Mink (minkmix) wrote,
Mink
minkmix

SPN Fic: TMI

Title: TMI
Author: Mink
Rating: PG - wee!&teen!chesters – Gen - Humor
Spoilers: General (for all aired episodes)
Disclaimers: SPN & characters are owned by their various creators.
Summary: John (and the young Winchesters) are exposed to the horrors wonders of womanhood.



John put the car into park and glanced up in the rear view mirror.

“Come on, ladies,” he said. “Time to wake up.”

The slumbering pile of his kids in the backseat didn’t so much as twitch. John took a moment to check out the parking lot for any cops stopping for a coffee at the only all-night diner in town. But besides a few trailers and a Fed-ex van, the place looked clean.

“I said get up.”

He turned around this time to see if anyone was conscious and just ignoring him. It was a sorry sight but his boys hadn’t quite figured out yet that they’d gotten too tall to sleep back there at the same time. Half of Dean was flowing into the front seat and Sam was jammed under him and a duffel bag that wouldn’t fit in the trunk.

John laid on the horn until hands started to fumble blindly for the passenger doors.

It was a real nice night, all crisp and painfully cold with the coming dawn. He stretched and took a few deep breaths of the frigid air before climbing up the concrete steps two at a time. He waited at the top and held the door open as his sons filed in one behind the other. Neither one of them had their eyes open but they managed to remain upright long enough to locate a spacious corner booth and resume collapse.

“Morning,” the waitress yawned. “Coffee?”

John flipped up his mug. “Just for me thanks.”

She managed a smile in the direction of his snoring spawn. “Up early for a family trip to the falls, huh? Supposed to be a beautiful day for it.”

Niagara was just a few miles north and John hadn’t thought of playing the tourist card until she helpfully gave him the idea.

“You bet,” he gave a grin in return. “My boys have been beggin’ to go all year.”

Her smile faltered slightly and John silently cursed at himself. A panorama of delightful waterfalls wasn’t exactly a teenaged boy’s vacation dream come true. But as she wandered off he told himself to calm the hell down. This woman wasn’t anyone important. There was no one here looking too close or paying them any attention whatsoever—

“Hey!” a voice demanded. “Hey beard guy! Help us out would ya?”

John had noticed the two girls sitting behind them but beyond their presence he hadn’t given them any more thought. Now that he was face to face with the blond leaning over into their booth he was forced to acknowledge that she was pretty young and extremely pretty.

“O-Our salt thingie is all empty,” Biting her lower lip, she blinked big blue eyes and smiled a white smile. “And that dumb waitress only gave us fuckin’ Tabasco sauce for our fries.”

And extremely drunk.

John handed over the ketchup and shaker without comment.

“Shanks man,” her makeup was faded from a night of who knows what. “Yer the bestest beard guy ever.”

“Don’t mention it.”

She slid inelegantly back into her seat and her identically blond friend gave out a small cheer in happiness at the arrival of condiments. John was ready to attempt to shake the boys awake when the girl’s cheerful voice rang out again behind him.

“I can’t believe I got my period!”

She was no longer talking to John but every shrill word was as clear as a bell.

“My vag feels like it’s turning inside out,” she slurred to her friend. “And oh my god, my boobs are about to fall off.”

He stared hard at his mug as the waitress filled it with steaming black coffee.

“I mean I got it bad,” she said. “I was dancing right? And then just BLAM, it was like I wet my pants or something. But you know, just blood and more blood.”

Her quiet pal, mouth stuffed with French fries, commiserated with a few sympathy grunts.

“So I went to the bathroom and that it had soaked through my thong, my jeans, everything!”

Mozzarella sticks. Buffalo wings. And looky here, this dump even had lobster tail listed on their overnight menu. John started to read all the vegetarian entrées one by one in his head like Latin prayer.

“It was like I got stabbed in the cooch or something!”

John squeezed his eyes shut.

Dean and Sam both began to stir from the sound of her piercing voice.

“G-Go back to sleep!” John nearly knocked his coffee over in an effort to push them back under the table. “Everything’s fine!”

They both untangled themselves from their pile and graduated to the stage of sleeping sitting up. When neither of them bothered wiping the drool off of their faces, John nervously hoped the gynecological update would be concluded before the smell of a deep fryer brought them the rest of the way out of their stupors.

“SO then I was like, oh my god, I totally need one hundred tampons,” she exclaimed. “But that was so NOT going to staunch the Crimson Wave. Oh no, what I needed was a cork if you know what I mean.”

Sam blinked around in confusion. “W-Where are we?“

“No where,” John said too loudly. “We’re just gettin’ some toast and gettin’ out of here.“

Dean caught on to John’s panic and decided to open his eyes to see what was going on. But instead of trouble all he saw were halter-tops and no tan lines to speak of. The kid quickly ran a hand through his sleep misshapen buzz and lounged in a posture of receptiveness to whatever their plight happened to be.

The girl started laughing and snorting at the same time.

“So there was blood all over the toilet and I swear on Justin Timberlake that it looked EXACTLY like Hellraiser in there. I said oh my god, does anyone in here have a fucking mop!”

Dean’s easy smile faded into something else and John couldn’t help but feel sorry for the boy. He knew his son was fairly unflappable but this time his eldest wasn’t going to walk away without a new scars. Dismantling the mystery of a woman never quite left a man totally intact.

“Then I was like, waitaminute, a mop? I need a wet-vac!”

Dean’s future women’s issues were quickly forgotten when Sam let out a strained squeak of horror. The coffee mug shook in John’s grip.

He wanted grandchildren one day damn it.

Just as another chapter starring explosive uteri was about to begin, John swung around and adjusted his voice to barely courteous. He tried out one of his better smiles and hoped for everyone’s sake that it worked.

“Do you think you could… would you mind if… I was just wondering if you could keep it down over there?”

He flinched when Dean piped in with his two cents.

“Yeah, could ya?” the kid gave up on aloof cool in favor of getting through breakfast alive. “We’d sure like to eat again sometime in our lifetimes.”

A shocked and affronted silence descended over their tables like a black storm cloud. The girl’s wicked glares and vicious snarls made all three Winchesters involuntarily back up in their seats. The physical transfiguration from harmless to malevolent almost made John reach for the .45 inside his jacket.

Almost.

Her delicate features had contorted into an alarming kittenish scowl. “What’s exactly your collective damage?” she clicked her tongue in disgust. “This is the United States of AMERICA and we’re having a private conversation about private business if you don’t mind.”

“Dad?” Sam asked quietly. “Can we go now?”

“Men suck!” she cried out. “I’d like to see how you felt if you had to bleed every month and make babies and be the heart and soul of the world!”

John watched the uneasy waitress pause behind the counter near a phone. “Okay everybody, that’s enough, let’s just settle down—“

Dean stood up and pointed a finger right in her livid face. “I bleed all the time but I don’t go around tellin’ people!” he jerked a thumb at Sam who was now huddled in the corner. “And-And you can’t go talkin’ about your… your feminine hygiene in front of minors!“

“Dean—“

“And another thing!” Dean yelled. “Where do you get off saying men suck? Men do all the work around here! And without men, they’d be NO women so how do you like THAT?”

His son’s outrage on behalf of all male-kind was impressive but it was no match for two estrogen charged girls. These two dainty libbers were going to rip his boy to shreds and leave nothing behind to tell the tale. But to John’s distraction the girls in the booth next door were suddenly wearing preciously coy smiles once again.

Sam sunk eye level to the table and watched them suspiciously.

“We’re seventeen,” they performed a shy wave in unison. “Don’t you go to Susquehannock High School? You’re really assertive.”

Dean’s fury evaporated when the enchanting power of their smiles were aimed right at him. “Uh, thanks?”

This shit was giving John a headache. He wanted grandchildren but not within the next 24 hours.

“I-I’m eighteen actually.” It Dean took a few bewildered moments to switch gears, but he was back in the game. “And I’ll be nineteen in a few weeks.”

“Whatever,” Sam mumbled. “Yer not even sixteen yet!”

“Shut yer hole, Sammy.”

“You shut your hol--ahgh!

“Forget the food,” John got to his feet. “We’re leaving now.”

“What’s the rush?” Dean tried to sit up straighter to get a smile past his father’s shoulder block. “I’m starvin’.”

Sam responded by disappearing under the table to get back to the business of sleep.

John grabbed them both by the back of their coats and hauled their asses across worn vinyl. Goddamnit, they were getting heavy. There was only a brief struggle as they made their way out the door and to the parking lot. The door swished shut to the sound of dual sighs of disappointment from the girls and Dean’s last desperate wave in their direction.

“Front and center,” he tossed the keys to Dean. “Yer turn.”

“But I got cramps!”

“Life sure is unfair, ain't it?”

John got himself into the passenger seat and dug a few granola bars out of the glove box so Sam wouldn’t start chewing up the upholstery. They weren’t stopping for anything for a while.

Drive thru only and at a minimum of 10mph.












Tags: gen, john pov, spn humor, spn one shot, wee & teen!chesters
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