Word Count: 777 +/-
Summary Written for the Pre-series comment fic meme (Summer writing survival edition!)
Prompt: Dean's first time in prison, aka juvie, because he was way too comfortable with being in one, in Folsom Prison Blues
Juvenile Delinquent For Life
He guesses it’s easier for him than other kids.
He doesn’t miss his family, he goes days without seeing Dad anyway and he knows Sam's okay for the moment. He’s not afraid of anyone bigger than he is, because while he may not look like the toughest 10 year old to grace the Redwood Juvenile Correctional Facility, he’s pretty sure he’s one of the best trained in hand to hand, and he’s got his knife on him. It wasn’t easy, palming it from one hand to the other, into his boot leg and back, but they’re not allowed to strip kids naked, so he’s good.
The kids are complaining about the food. He doesn’t know what the issue is. Tastes like school food, salty, tasteless, but when you’re done, you’re not hungry. He finishes the tray of the kid across from him too.
A couple of the bigger kids are making threats and he honestly doesn’t have the fucking time for this. Dad’ll send a signal soon, and he’ll bolt, they’ll grab Sammy and fuck if he’s ever coming back to this county again, at least not with the names they’ve got now. He tries to ignore them. He does but he knows it’s not gonna work for long. If dad doesn’t show up in the next twelve hours, he’s either gonna have to take them on or be their bitch.
Yeah, he’s taking them on.
They mock him all through the crap-ass Disney movie that even Sammy's outgrown. He manages to slip away from them twice and by the third time, it’s on.
There’re three of them, they back him into a corner, which is where he led them. He’s not a fan of being surprised by someone coming in from behind.
They swing, and kick and they’re all knees and elbows, anger and fear, but no training. The first one falls hard and fast when Dean kicks out his knee. The other two start to look a little cowed but they keep fighting while Dean continues to taunt them with what faggot little pussies they are, he throws every schoolyard curse he can think of at them, and a few that he learned from Dad and Bobby and nowhere near the schoolyard. The kids get angrier, and more scared which makes their moves even less coordinated. He’d feel bad for them if they weren’t trying to break his ribs and maybe his head.
The guards, (attendants), pull him off of them. They know the code as well as he does. They don’t squeal and the next morning when he hears the Impala rev three times and then turn around and do it again, they cover for him as he jumps the fence.
Dad’s moving before he shuts the door. He takes Dean's face in one hand angling it to see the damage. “Anything broken?”
“On me? Nah, where’s Sammy?”
“Gotta move fast, he’s one county over.”
“Watch that language, kiddo. And it wasn’t up to me where Sammy went, once they took me, and then you, they checked the motel room. Found Sam in the closet. Said he pretended to be deaf and have amnesia.”
Dean laughed. “Tough little fuc…bugger.”
“Yeah, so’re you.”
“Not so little anymore.”
“You got a record now Dean. This… we’ve gotta…”
“Yeah, okay, I know, I messed up.”
“Dean, you didn’t mess up but what the hell did you think you were doing?”
“Drawing fire from you. If the cops came after me, you could go get Sammy.”
“And then what?”
Dean shrugged. “You’d come get me eventually, right?”
John laughed as he revved the engine.
“This the place?”
“Yeah, he’s on the second floor.”
Dean was out of the car and shimmying up the porch post and across the roof. Sam clung to him as he dropped down; Dad caught them and carried them both to the car. Dean refused to remember dad doing that before, when the house was on fire.
They drove, Dean and Sam wrapped together in the back seat. Dad stony faced at the wheel.
A week later they were over 1000 miles away, settled into a cheap rental and Sam was enrolled in first grade.
“Give it another couple of days for those bruises to disappear and we’ll get you set up in school too Dean.”
“Do we have to?”
John nodded and ruffled Dean's hair. “Sorry kiddo, the plan was never for you to say a juvenile delinquent for life.”
Dean nodded and offered his dad a peanut M&M.
John took a yellow one. As they both got to work cleaning the weapons.