This little story takes place when Oscar is around 14 years old. It is canon to the Brothers Together AU.
Oscar hadn’t had a very successful day. He managed to scrape together enough crumbs and bits of food for one meal, but that was no progress. His pantry would merely remain at the abysmally low levels it had been when he set out.
He shuffled quietly towards home, cloth shoes pushing dust around. He felt worn out to the core. Climbing furniture could wear on someone after doing it all evening and into the night. Especially someone who didn’t eat as much as they should, but in order to avoid running out, Oscar had to cut corners.
He always had to cut corners.
While he walked, Oscar was drawn inevitably into memories. Years ago, when he was just a young kid and his mom had only been gone a year, Oscar had been happy again. A bright spot in his bleak outlook may well have saved his life.
He’d had food and water and a place he could go for more warmth when even his pile of blankets was too cold. Oscar had more than one meal a day, of all kinds of foods, the memory of which still made his mouth water and his stomach pine for more sometimes. He’d had a glow of health in his cheeks and a shy smile in his eyes.
Oscar had had friends.
Now he was back to having no one. Oscar had stupidly wished for that month to last longer. He’d even let himself imagine going with them when they left. But a note written in quick handwriting, punctuated with a hasty SORRY OZ had brought him back to reality.
That had to be nearly half his lifetime ago. Oscar remembered them every day. He often wondered if they remembered him. It didn’t seem likely. They’d gone on to meet new people and make new connections.
Oscar was still there, clinging to the frayed edges of what was left of his connection. Just like he’d started to forget things about his mom, he’d begun to forget things about Sam and Dean. Their voices were gone. Their faces had become a little vague.
But he still remembered how happy he’d been to spend time with them. He’d even gone outside safely.
A familiar swell of music echoed into his passages from the room adjacent. Oscar felt his heart tighten and drifted to the edge of the wall. He leaned his ear against it and planted his hands on it as well. He knew that music anywhere. Someone must have left the TV on when they went to bed.
The music of Jurassic Park threw Oscar back six years. The taste of popcorn and soda, the rise and fall of the surface beneath him, the brightness of the enormous screen were crystal clear in his head. He blinked rapidly as he thought about that day in the park. He and Sam had explored the grass, outside, with the open sky above and the fresh air all around. Oscar was free of worry even knowing there were birds that could carry him away out there.
He wasn’t alone.
The music and the sound of people talking and dinosaurs grumbling reached his hearing, and Oscar sighed. He saw this movie in a big theater with his friends, though he’d had to cover his eyes for a lot of it. He remembered how Dean had placed a protective hand over Sam and Oscar.
After listening for a while, Oscar opened his eyes. He was back in the walls. It was dim and dusty and chilly. He hadn’t had anything to eat yet that day, and he didn’t have a promise of safety or more food tomorrow.
Oscar sighed and stepped away from the edge of the wall, making his way home once more.
Writerly Things 