Archive of Our Own (BETA rev. 2101)

“There, is that better?”

“Yes. Thanks, Unc' Sam.”

“Okay, champ. You keep hold of Mr Pooky this time. Teddy bears are pretty resilient little guys, but he's going to have a headache if you keep dropping him like this.”

“Unc' Sam, there's someone at the door.”

“No, there – oh. Hi.”

“...babysitting, Sammy? Really?”

“Look, John, it's Auntie Ruby!”

“Hi, Aun' Wooby!”

“Uh. Hi, John. Wow. You grow fast, kid.”

“I am nearly three.”

“Doesn't time fly? You're pretty big for your age, kiddo.”

“Ruby.”

“What? I'm just saying – kid looks like a four-year-old, and he talks like he ate a dictionary. He's a big boy, is all I'm saying....Guess he take after his Uncle Sammy that way.”

“Ruby! Not in front of...ahem.”

“Spoilsport.”

“You don't have to stay, you know.”

“Oh, don't start with me! I thought we could – I didn't know you'd be babysitting the Messiah. Which is just – I don't know where to begin. There are just so many levels of wrong.”

“We're reading a bedtime story, aren't we, John?”

“Yes. Want to hear a story, Aun' Wooby?”

“Is it X-rated?”

“RUBY.”

“Sheesh, okay, fine, good. I'll play nice. Okay, John-boy. Is it a good story?”

“It's the best story.”

“Oh, well, in that case, I'm all ears. Go for it, Hans Christian Anderson.”

“Hmph. Right. Are you comfortable, John?”

“ 'es.”

“Don't suck your thumb! You know what your Daddy says about that!”

“You don' got to tell Daddy.”

“Yeah, Uncle Sammy, stop picking on the kid! You suck your thumb, sweetie. Nothing wrong with a bit of an oral fixation. It'll take you far.”

“Ruby!”

“We're waiting for the story, aren't we, John?”

“ 'es.”

“Okay. Where were we? Right. Ahem... And he came to the place where the wild things are. They roared their terrible roars.”

“ROAR! Aun' Wooby, you have to roar.”

“Oh! Okay, sorry, kid. I'm kinda new to this. ROAR! That okay?”

“Yes. That was a very good roar.”

“Cool. Go me.”

“And showed their terrible teeth! And rolled their terrible eyes! And showed their terrible claws! Till Max said 'Be still!' And tamed them with the magic trick of staring into all their yellow eyes without blinking once, and they were frightened and called him the most wild thing of all! And made him king of all wild things. And now.....let the wild rumpus start!”

“RAAAAAAAAAAAR!”

“What the...?”

“C'mon, Aun' Wooby! Rumpus!”

“You guys are certifiable, you know that?”

“RAAAAAAAAAR! RAAAAAAAAAAR!!! RARARARARARARARAAAAAAR!!!”

“Go on, Ruby – you know you want to jump on the other bed. I promise not to tell anyone.”

“You...oh, what the hell.”

“...”

“...”

“RARARARARARARARAAAAAAAAAAR!”

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!”

“...Now stop!”

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!!"

“Psssst! Aun' Wooby! You got to stop!”

“Whoops. 'Kay. I'm good. Nothing to see here. Ahem. C'mon, kiddo, come sit here with me.”

“Kay. Can I bring Mr Pooky?”

“Sure.”

“And he sent the wild things off to bed without their supper. And Max, the king of all the wild things, said: I'm lonely. And he wanted to be where someone loved him best of all.”

“Mmph! Don' squeeze so tight, Aun' Wooby!”

“Sorry, kiddo.”

“Then all around, from far away across the world, he smelled good things to eat.”

“Pie! Daddy says it was pie!”

“Yeah, that sounds like Dean.”

“Sssh. So he said: I'll give up being king of where the wild things are. But the wild things cried: oh please don't go! We'll eat you up! We love you so! And Max said...”

“NO! Aun' Wooby!”

“Whoops, sorry – NO!”

“The wild things roared their terrible roars.”

“ROOOOOOAAAR!”

“ROOOOAAAAR! Better?”

“Much better! You make a kickass Wild Thing, Aun' Wooby!”

“John Gabriel Winchester! Language!”

“But Daddy says...”

“John!”

“Sorry.”

“Good boy. Um. ...And showed their terrible teeth. And rolled their terrible eyes. And showed their terrible claws. But Max stepped into his private boat, and waved goodbye. And sailed back almost over a year, and in and out of weeks, and through a day, and into the night of his own room, where he found his supper waiting for him...”

“And it was STILL HOT!”

“...”

“Sam, I can't believe you just read this kid that story.”

“It's the best story, Aun' Wooby.”

“Well – it's kind of nonfiction, when it comes to Winchesters. Er. Pretty much all the Winchesters, in fact. But, yeah – it's a good story, kiddo. Er. From the way Uncle Sammy's giving us the stink eye, I think you're supposed to be tucked up in bed right now.”

“You better believe it.”

“ 'nother story?”

“Not this time. C'mon. And don't you turn those big blue eyes on me, champ, 'cause it won't do you a lick of good. In you go.”

“Will Daddy and Papa be back soon?”

“When you wake up, champ. Promise.”

“'Kay. Kiss?”

“....”

“Kiss, Aun' Wooby?”

“Aw, what the hell.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...you're pretty good with kids, you know? For an unemployed AntiChrist.”

“You're not bad yourself. For a demon.”

“Yeah, well. He's a good kid. For, you know, one of the nephilim. With added Messiah sprinkles. But don't you go getting any ideas!”

“I've got quite a few ideas, actually. But they don't involve babies.”

“Now that's what I'm talking about!”

“...”

“...sssh, Sam! Don't wake the kid! But...holy crap, yeah, do that again!”