glass
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam x Reader
Summary: you break a plate on accident, your daddy and uncle Dean come to the rescue.
Warnings: age regression, broken plate, triggered reader, hints at abuse, blood, cut, anxiety/panic attack, I could've missed some so please babies, read at your own risk
Word Count: 2.2k
A/N: really like this oneeeee, thanks for reading lovelies <3
You're walking through the kitchen, minding your own business, and you collide with the sharp corner of the table. The plate resting in your hand hit the floor, shattering. In a split second you're panicking, the sound of broken glass reminding you too much of your bad days.
Memories flooding through your head, voices booming all around you. You're looking at your hands, the slippery culprits now shaking like a leaf. Your vision is spotty, lungs burning, air barely coming in, face losing feeling soon. Your eyes move to the shattered ceramic, overflowing with tears now. You realize the 'mistake' you've made and start clumsily shuffling around. You're picking up the biggest pieces, placing them as soft as you can in your hand.
Sam instantly heard the plate break, immediately jumping up from his chair in the library. He was rushing to you, and when he arrived in the doorway, he takes in your rattling body. Your breaths are choked, whole body racking as you're picking up pieces of glass? Sam instantly rushed over to you, kneeling in front of you, "You with me baby?" A hand coming up inches away from the hand holding the pieces of glass, his other coming around to your shoulder.
As you're picking up a piece Sam places a hand on your shoulder and under your hand holding the glass as gently as possible, but it still scares you. You let out a loud gasp, clenching your hands together, another sob coming out of you, "I-I'm sorry-" He lifts you from your squatting position, pulling your legs around his waist. He's rubbing your back, whispering in your ear as he carried you, "Shhh, my little baby, nothing to be sorry about, you're okay, it's okay." You're sobbing, shaking, mumbling ''m sorry' over and over, you can't open your eyes, you're just stuck gripping onto him and struggling to breathe between broken sobs.
He sits you on the counter next to the sink, your legs and arms still around him. "Hey, baby," he's trying to reach you in your thoughts, "baby, can you look at me?" He's rubbing your back, feeling the wetness grow on his back, knowing he needed to check it. After about fifteen seconds, he decided he had to check your hand. He brought his hands to your ears, taking a deep breath and turning his head as far away from you as possible, "Dean!" His voice was dripping with fear and concern. Your body jolted when he did so, and he felt it, instantly consoling you, "Oh I know, daddy was so loud and it was scary. I know baby."
Dean does into the room, hearing your cries echoing through the room as he sees the back of Sam's shirt covered in blood that's coming from your hand? He's rushing over to you, softly speaking to you, his hand hovering over your wrist, "Hey, little one, wanna let Uncle Dean see your hand for a minute?" He gently grabs your wrist, slowly leading your away from Sam's neck.
You're starting to calm down, Sam's scent engulfing you, his words bringing you back to him. "It's okay bug, I now it's scary but daddy's here. Take a deep breath for me, come on." You're trying to follow along to him, Dean pulling your arm away from him bringing some feeling back into your arm. Your breathing is still scattered, but doesn't burn as bad, Sam's voice coming in clearer as you hear the water coming on. "You feel my hand on your back sweetness?" He makes big circles on your back, applying the slightest amount of pressure. You enjoy it for a moment, trying to take good breaths for your daddy, then nod to him. "You think you can tell me what letter I'm making?" You nod again, "Okay, remember to keep focusing on what I'm writing yeah?" Another nod, and as he starts drawing lines on your back water hits your hand causing you to let out a small cry and jerk your hand away from Dean.
"Hey, baby, you gotta let Dean make sure you're okay," his other hand is enclosing your face, kisses planting on top of your head, trying and succeeding in wrapping you in his love. He continues, "Focus on my hand baby, what letter is daddy drawing?" Dean's hand touching your wrist barely registers as you focus on the letter. You hiss at the water rushing over your hand again, shaking your head at Sam, letting him know you don't know the letter. "Okay, let me do it again," he traces two exaggerated lines on your back, forming a L. "What letter baby?" He is wiping away some stray tears as you choke out, "L."
Sam hums happily, "Such a good, smart girl, it was L!" His voice is soft and soothing, Deans movements on your hand becoming a little more noticeable as you start to breathe better. "Ready for the next one?" You nod keeping your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. He traces a circle on your back, then a line, you shrug not sure, a little too distract by the thump thump thump of his heart. "Circle," he traces a circle, "and a line," he traces the line, repeating the letter once more. Your voice is wavering, not confident in yourself, "a?"
He rubs your back gently, delivering kisses where he can reach, "So smart! Let's see if we can get another, yeah?" You nod, Sam sensing the small amount of eagerness and feeling relieved that you're starting to get back to being his happy little girl. He starts a point at the top of your back, drawing straight down and circling back. I know that one, you thought happily. Your heart skips a beat, excited to show your daddy how smart you are. "That one's d!"
Sam smiles even though you can't see him, knowing that you're gonna be okay. He's been watching Dean, wanting to make sure you were okay. It was a long cut but not deep, spreading across the inside of your fingers. Fingers bleed bad, and look scarier than they are. "Okay, okay, you're too good at this!" A small nuzzle into his chest from you, the praise pleasing your tiny headspace. He traces a v with a tail on your back, causing you to giggle, "I know the word!" He chuckled, "There's more!" He see's your brows furrow in consideration before speaking solemnly, "Okay, papa, write it."
His heart swelled, his perfect baby makes him feel magic running through his veins. He traced, another vertical like and circle, opposite from the d, and you bounced on the counter. "Yes, daddy! I know it!" He glances at Dean, who is putting small gauze and tape over the slices on your fingers, Dean focused on his task, but smiling at you and Sam. Sam speaks softly, but with admiration, "Ya hear that Uncle Dean? My girls got it!" Dean's voice dripping excitement, "Well I don't know what it is! Tell me what it is sweet pea!"
"Issa ladybug right?" Sam quickly litters kisses all over your face and shoulders. Your arm moved around his waist, face burying into him as he makes you blush with his words, "Genius baby! So smart and perfect, did so good!" You're giggling at him, Dean letting go of your hand, "All patched up sweetheart. You wanna come with me and watch some toons while daddy cleans up?" You squeeze to Sam, not wanting to let go, causing his heart to break a little. "Baby, Daddy's got some blood-" you try to raise your head but he stops you, "Little girls are too small to see things like that, right angel?" You blush, nodding, "Yes, daddy."
"Good girl, now I need you to keep your eyes closed while Dean grabs you, real tight 'til he says okay?" You nod, placing tiny kisses on his chest. Dean reaches for you, your eyes close real, real tight. Dean takes Sam's place, moving you to the other side of the sink. Sam's hand didn't come off your back, gliding with Dean. "Good girl," he butterfly kisses your nose consistently, letting you return it with a giggle. "He's gonna clean your hand, and I'm gonna go clean up." He kisses your forehead and you whine when you feel him leave.
Dean is quickly rinsing off the dried blood on your other arm that transferred from your other hand as he shushes you, "I know bug, just a second." After he finishes, he prepares to lift you, speaking softly, "Keep those eyes shut darlin'." When you nod, he lifts you, carrying you out of the kitchen, careful to avoid the plate and blood in the floor. You feel him lean, but keep your eyes closed, clinging to him tightly. He straightens back up and walks you to the tv room, sitting on the couch softly.
"Alright baby," he tapped your shoulder twice with a feather tap, "open up." You lift your head, greeted with Deans wide smile and a lavender beaded pacifier in his hand. You hummed excitedly, bouncing up and whining slightly when he didn't give it to you. He puts it against your lips, your mouth happily taking it in and sucking on it, laying back down on him.
After no more than ten minutes, you're squirming. You want your daddy, not uncle Dean. "Peanut," Dean sighs, "daddy's coming, give him a minute, yeah?" You whine, fussing a bit, Dean stands with you, pushing your head into his neck. He starts pacing the room with you, bouncing you slightly. You're still squirming a little, trying to escape his grasp. "Wan' papa," you whisper, Dean feels a tear slip onto his shoulder and he's shushing you. "He's coming baby, he's gotta get real clean! You don't like when daddy's stinky do you?" You giggle a little, shaking your head, "No stinky papa." Dean coos at you, "That's right little girl, daddy needs to get to smelling good again, doesn't he?" That elicits a heavier laugh from you, tucking yourself back into his neck.
Around ten minutes after that, Sam walks in, holding a pair of rainbow leggings and one of his t-shirts. His hand comes to your back, nodding you out of your sleepy state, and you're instantly reaching for his arms. "Papa," your hands find his shoulders to support yourself while you transfer arms. "I know baby," he's holding you now, but it's short lived when he gently sets you on the couch. You're whining and whimpering, reaching out to him, being careful not to squeeze your sore little fingers. He shakes his head, "No baby, don't you wanna get these uncomfy clothes off of you?" When he says that you realize how tight the clothes you're wearing are, how rough they feel against your skin. You're suddenly squirming, pulling at your clothes messily.
"Oh little girl, arms up now." He's speaking softly but sternly, causing you to stop moving and lift your arms. He picks up your shirt, lifting it up over your face and back down, making silly faces at you repetitively, "Where my baby?" the shirt is covering your face, "There she is!" He moves the shirt out of the way again, only stopping when your giggles die down. He slides his shirt on you, it was a little oversized on him, it swallows you. You're bunching it in your hands, whining when he pulls down your rough blue jeans. He slides the leggings on, the soft, stretchy material making you kick your legs playfully.
Once the leggings are all the way up, Sam grabs your ankles, laughing at you, "Oh! Daddy's got you now little ladybug, what you gonna do?" You giggle at him, a blessed sound to Sam and Dean, twisting your body in unnatural ways to try and escape the mean ankle monster. "Papaaaa," you kick your legs a little seriously, causing Sam to raise his eyebrows, a test telling you that you know better than to hit your daddy. "Pease papa, jus' wan' you hol' me." You reach your arms up and Sam's heart melts.
He tickles up your legs, grazing your sides, causing you to twist and turn again, before he's lifting you by your underarms, putting you around his waist. Dean comes in, you're not sure when he left, but he's got your favorite spaceship sippy cup and your reaching for it. He laughs, handing it to you as Sam sits with you. "I thought we could watch Tink, you wanna watch Tink peanut?" You nod at Dean, he presses a kiss to your cheek and plays the movie, Sam letting you adjust so you can watch the television.
Despite your sore hand, it was going to be a good day with your daddy and uncle Dean. They know when you need extra attention, know when you're gonna be their little baby and they wouldn't change it for the world. They just wish that you wouldn't have regressed this way, forced by a trigger violently. They know you're hurting so they're gonna be by your side all day long.
