They’ve innovated a few different types of weapons for him, including his hook, but this hasn’t occurred to them. Normally they stick to stuff that’s more useful against the monsters they hunt– Silver, iron, salt and such. This kind of thing would be more useful against rodents and people, and Sam’s grown used to his knife for defense.
(Legos are a form of torture implement)
I don’t know what’s going on with this😂 I guess I lied about posting less, apparently drawing them actually helps when I’m sad ;D
December 2nd excerpt:
“Mornin,’ doc!” Dean called gamely, keeping his eyes trained on Sam. “Learned it all from my dad!”
During Dean’s brief distraction, Sam took advantage of his only chance to get out of the pin, knowing Dean could keep him in place. Sam kicked out, tossing Dean off balance, and then aimed his kick at Dean’s side, smoothly knocking his older brother to the ground and reversing their positions.
“You were saying?” Sam grinned, one hand around Dean’s throat to keep him from trying to get up.
BA Canon: No || AU
Timeline: 1993 (Dean is 14; Sam is 10)
(Part 3 of 4)
Dean tried to ignore the argument as he sullenly got ready for school, shoving an extra notebook into his backpack. It wasn’t like he was going to be in the school long enough to actually learn anything. What the hell was the point?
John glared down at his younger son, who was doing his best to stand his ground on the table. At only two and a half inches tall, a glare like that wasn’t easy to look into without flinching.
“Dad, it’s just school,” Sam protested. “How can I keep up if I stay in the motel all day?”
“It’s not safe,” John said grimly. “What if someone sees you? It’s not a risk you’re taking. You’ll be safer back here with me. When Dean gets back he can fill you in on what he learned.”
Sam rolled his eyes, knowing as well as Dean did that his older brother rarely paid attention long enough in class to soak up the lessons. John’s eyes narrowed. “Sam…”
“Fine,” Sam snapped. He kicked the pen that was left near him on the table. “I’ll stay,” he finished in a mumble.
John nodded sharply. He spotted Dean, still standing in the shadow of the bathroom. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he snapped. The recent reveal of his younger son’s curse had left his patience thin. Dean and Sam were both treading on thin ice constantly.
Dean didn’t say a word, just swung his backpack onto his shoulders. He tried to give Sam a reassuring glance, I’ll be back soon, but Sam refused to meet his gaze. Great, Dean thought. Bad enough he had to leave the two of them alone. Worse that neither of them was happy with him.
John grabbed a set of clothing, stomping into the bathroom. “Make sure the door is locked behind you!” he shouted at Dean, paying no mind to the way Sam flinched at the loud noise.
Dean shuffled his way out of the room, trying to draw out the time until he left.
He was so withdrawn into himself that he never noticed the weight that slipped into his pocket when he passed by the table.
Brothers Apart 