The Injured Kitten Would Like an Attorney, Please

______________________

The grass is wet. That's why it happens. That's why he falls.

It's not because Alec's graceless or clumsy or anything but the perfect genetic specimen, it's because the grass is wet and there are too many damn kids on the playground and he was trying to avoid that little one with the pigtails and the lollypop and the sticky fingers. She just looks at him with huge hazel eyes as he barrels forward, laughing, trying to get the hell away from Ben who is chasing after him with an outstretched hand. Tag. Sam called it tag. Sam said to go play tag. Sam warned them to run slow.

The other kids are running for all they're worth around him when he topples into the wooden fort tower in an attempt to avoid this paralyzed female child and he hisses and rants in his head not about how he just crashed, but about how he had to go slow.

Ben skids to a stop. His hand drops to his side.

"Alec, you okay?"

Alec's not okay. Alec's elbow scraped across one of the structural beams in his fall and now it's bleeding. And there are splinters sticking out of it.

"No. They're going to be hearing from my lawyer," he says, because he heard that on TV the other day and it sounded like something he really should say out loud just once. Or maybe a million times. "How do they expect children to play in this kind of squalor?"

"Does it hurt? You shouldn't have put your sleeves up."

The sleeves of Alec's hoodie are bunched up around his upper arms. He's kind of surprised they've stayed there. "It'll be gone soon."

But Ben's looking at the wound with obvious distaste and Alec knows what's coming next. "Let's go get the kit from the car. It should be disinfected. There're splinters n'stuff."

"It's fine, Jo Frost."

Ben's brows scrunch together. He doesn't get the reference. That's cool, Alec doesn't really get it either, but whenever Sam's being completely overbearing, Dean's taken to calling him Jo Frost. And Alec's taken to imitating everything Dean does.

"M'gonna go get Dea-Dad."

"Don't. M'fine. M'dandy, even."

Ben's going to argue some more. He's got his mouth open and he's going to argue some more but then a little voice comes from beside them.

"Did you get a boo boo?"

And Ben's mouth shuts closed and the transgenic twins turn and cock their heads, consider the sticky hands and ridiculous hairdo of the little villain who caused all of this.

"Did I get a what?" Alec asks. He's confused. She's so small and she covers her mouth with her hands as she giggles and turns away, all stupid and semi-bashful.

"Boo boo. Did you get a boo boo?" she inquires again, this time from under her hands.

Alec wonders briefly if engaging further with this creature could somehow prove even more disastrous than it's already been. She points at his elbow. He looks down at his trickling scrape.

"This?" He blinks. "This is an injury."

"Boo boo," she repeats.

"No." Alec says the word like Dean says the word. "Injury. Say injury."

She doesn't say injury. Her bottom lip sticks out and starts moving, though, and her eyes well up with tears and suddenly there's a terrific wail all around them, flooding the playground in its magnificence. Ben and Alec are quick to cover their ears.

A woman comes running.

"Holly? Holly, baby, what did the mean boys do to you?"

"Mean boys?" Ben sounds offended. Alec snickers because Ben sounds offended. But this lady's got a death glare on her and both transgenics unthinkingly back up one large step when her nostrils flare in their direction.

And then Dean comes running.

"Benny? Kitten?"

The girl stops crying almost instantly, looks around with wide eyes. "Kitten? Where's a kitten?"

And much to Alec's horror, Dean puts a hand on top of his head and says in tones of great joviality, "Right here, sweetheart."

"That's not a kitten," she disagrees. "That's a boy."

"Well, he's my kitten."

"Holly, why were you crying?" The woman's trying to regain control of the situation, her expression a muddled painting of confusion and irritation and perpetual worry. Alec recognizes this look because Sam's constantly wearing it.

The little evildoer jabs a finger at Alec. "The kitten got a boo boo."

"What do you mean the kitten got a boo boo?" Dean demands and Alec is amazed how the guy doesn't even flinch while saying the words. And Ben's trying his best not to giggle as he backs away from the scene, the bastard. "Alec? Do you have a boo boo?"

That's the last straw. Alec stomps his foot. "Injury! It's called an injury. I've been injured."

Dean catches sight of the scraped elbow during the mild fit, gingerly grabs Alec's arm and inspects it before hollering across the playground at Sam, who is sitting on a bench, chatting up a knitting housewife. "Hey, gigantor! First aid kit! Stat!"

It seems like mere seconds before Sam's coming at them running, all wind-blown hair and long limbs and frazzled face, asking "Who's injured?" and "Where is it?" even though Ben's already managed to sneak away. The tall Winchester proceeds to kneel on the ground with the open kit, fishes around for the needed supplies.

Sam's hands are universes around Alec's tiny elbow.

"He's really big," says the enemy as she sticks her gross fingers in her mouth. "Like the man on the cans."

"The man on the cans?" Dean asks in a lilting tone, and Alec is disgusted because he's pretty sure Dean finds this atrocious child cute, for chrissakes. "What man on the cans?"

"On the corn cans."

Dean snickers, so Alec snickers. Sam pretends to ignore them as he applies disinfectant to Alec's wound. It stings a little. Alec hisses. Dean's appalled.

"Jesus, Sammy. Careful! He's hurt."

"M'fi-"

"Did it sting?" Sam's giant forehead is creased in effeminate worry. "M'sorry, buddy. D'ya want a plain band-aid or a Batman band-aid?"

Alec wants to smack a bitch. He really does. Here he is being treated like he's three years old on a playground while the devil's sticky-fingered incarnate watches and his twin, his Ben, has successfully snuck off to the monkey bars where he's now observing from afar, every so often directing a mocking face at Alec's situation.

Alec would make faces back but unfortunately, and through no fault of his own, he's at the center of everyone's attention.

"Batman," he mumbles, because they won't let him not answer and Batman is clearly the superior choice, the choice that makes Dean beam and smack at Sam's shoulder with the back of a ringed hand.

"Ow, Dean-"

"I told you they'd like the Batman band-aids. And you called 'em a waste of money..."

Sam's hands are gentle hands as they smooth the band-aid onto Alec's already healing scrape. Alec breathes through his indignation, focuses on the act, watching intently as Sam applies the utmost care to the menial task.

"All done," the tall man says. "Better?"

Alec nods and doesn't jerk away when Sam smiles and messes up Alec's hair a little. Maybe he even leans into the man's hand. Maybe.

Dean steps in afterwards and delicately takes up Alec's wounded arm again, plants a noisy kiss on top of the yellow and black bat-stamped bandage.

Alec groans.

The tiny demon claps her grimy hands and chirps, "The kitten's daddy kissed it better!" while her oblivious creator coos behind splayed fingers.

"Why are you still here?" Alec asks, but she's already coming at him like a starfish and she's got this wild and scary look in her rapscallion eyes that kind of makes Alec want to scream a little and call his lawyer again. Her body is heavy in its impact and he topples to the ground, breathes heavily as she leans over him.

"I wanna kiss it better, too!"

And she jerks his arm in a position of supreme discomfort before planting a kiss over Dean's kiss and Alec wants some more disinfectant, goddamnit. A lot more.

"Get off," he grouses. She does, her eyes sparkling with depravity as she gives him one last look before running away, giggling, her mother hot on her feet. Alec gets to his own feet and dusts off his clothes, glaring at his two amused parental figures with absolutely no love. "That wasn't funny. You're supposed to get rid of things like her."

"Chicks dig you," Dean replies. "You get that from me." He slings an arm over Alec's shoulder. "It's not her fault she found you irresistible."

"I'm not going to a playground again unless you give me a gun," Alec retorts. And then, after some thought, "And an attorney. A gun and an attorney. I need protection from these sorts of situations."

Sam collects Ben from the monkey bars. The kid's still laughing when he trots up to walk by Alec's empty side.

"I'm pretty sure she was a demon," he says. "A really tiny demon."

"Her hands were disgusting," Alec agrees. "Demons have disgusting hands. It's common knowledge."

Sam and Dean don't deny it, so it must be true. The four of them walk back to the car as Alec's wound heals at the speed of light beneath his heroic band-aid, and Sam and Dean make promises of ice cream with chocolate sauce so maybe, just maybe, Alec won't have nightmares of pigtailed demon children tonight.