Ben Braeden

Ben sat off to the side of the field, watching the other kids at T-Ball practice with their fathers, playing catch and practicing hitting the ball. The game was going to begin soon, and all he could do was play with the ties on his glove while he waited.

"Hey, kiddo. What's wrong?"

Ben looked up at his mother and shrugged a bit. "Nothin'. Just don't got anyone to warm up with."

Lisa smiled a bit, and went to kiss her son on the top of his head. Ben, however, shifted and got out of the way, looking at her. "Not in front of the team, Mom!"

"Ok... ok." She held her hands up. "Is there something I can do to help you warm up?"

"No. You're a mom. Moms aren't supposed to help. Dads help and Moms sit in the bleachers."

"Ben. We've been though this..."

"I know Mom." Ben rolled his eyes. "You're special because you get to be both. But you're a chick and chicks can't play ball."

"Oh really?" Lisa got up and took the baseball out of her son's glove. "Go stand out by third base."

Ben raised an eyebrow, then sighed and ran out to the base. Lisa watched him a moment, then tossed the ball to her son - overhand - so that it would reach him easily, but gentle enough not to hurt him. Ben caught the ball, then looked at his mother in shock.

"So? What you think about that?" Lisa asked him.

"That was awesome!" Ben threw the ball back, not making it all the way but it got there. "You really rock, Mom."

"I'm glad you think so," Lisa said with a smile. "So can I help now?"

Ben thought a moment, then nodded. "Sure. You're better than half the dads anyway. They only toss underhand."

ooc: response fic to this

9. “I am a great supporter of sex before marriage. Otherwise I wouldn't have had sex at all.”
| Vicar of Dibley


There were a few things in life that Ben hated hearing. But the top thing on that ultimate list of bad things was when his mother shouted his full name.

"BENJAMIN ISSAC BRAEDEN WINCHESTER!"


( . . . )

Inspired by this pic - stopsign in the snow

Ben had turned 16 in October, got his license on a cold day in late November, and the next day he had started to beg for the car keys. Lisa had managed to put him off for a week, but tonight was the night of the holiday dance and she had promised Ben that if he had his license by then, he could have the car.

She stood in the livingroom, looking out the window as the snow was starting to fall again. She knew he could drive on it. The boy had been teaching himself how to drive for almost a year now so she wasn't worried about his skill. It was the other millions of drivers she worried about.

( Mom, you ok? )

Snow days were the best days ever, in Ben's eight year old opinion. Well, that next to Christmas and his Birthday. And maybe Halloween. But still! No school, and getting to go sledding at the big hill at the end of the community. SCORE!

Plus, he gets to sleep in, which is good for him, and Lisa Braeden. It means that Lisa can take her time getting up in the morning, not rushing to make breakfast and lunch. And it means she can actually sit in the living room with a cup of tea and watch the morning talk shows.

As commercials come up, Lisa did what any person will do and flipped through the stations. She happened to pass by CNN as shots of a police building in Colorado come up. Curiosity kept her watching.

"As information continue to come in from local, we're learning more and more about the victims of yesterday's accident at the Monument police station..."

There was excited footsteps above her head as Ben jumped out of bed. He'd be wanting breakfast in a moment. Pancakes, like always.

"... identified casualties include FBI Deputy Director Steven Groves, FBI Agent Calvin Reidy, Monument local Nancy Fitzgerald, and Sheriff Melvin Dodd..."

Lisa stood up, holding out the clicker to turn the TV off. But then she stopped as an image came onto the screen. Two mugs shots, side by side.

Dean.

"... the FBI has released confirmation that the two captured felons that were also killed in the blast were Samuel and Dean Winchester, brothers from Lawrence, Kansas who were wanted in connection to a series of crimes including..."

"Mom?"

Lisa spun around and saw Ben standing behind the couch, his eyes staring at the TV. She quickly turned it off and made her way to him.

"Ben, sweetie..."

"Mom, what happened to Dean and Sam?" Brown eyes looked up at her, confused and hurting. Lisa knew her son. He was too intelligent for his age, and he knew exactly what he had heard. But he was also eight, and wanted her to tell him that it wasn't true.

Lisa couldn't lie to her son. "There was an accident, Ben."

"NO!" His scream made Lisa wince, and he ran at her, punching her stomach. "No, it's not true!"

Lisa fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around her son who stopped hitting her and started to cry into her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Ben." She held him close, closing her eyes and feeling her own tears well up. "I'm sorry..."