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The Prophet

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Disclaimer: I don't own Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Rating: K

Warnings: None

Summary: A nightmare or prophetic dream?

The Prophet

The peaceful calm of the pre-dawn was shattered by the sound of terrified screams, jolting the McFadden family to alarming wakefulness. Five men and one woman stumbled from bedrooms, none bothering with robes in their hurry to reach the lower floor. Sounding like a heard of buffalo they ran down the stairs almost as one to find the second oldest holding the sobbing form of their youngest.

For a moment nobody moved, shocked at the sight of Guthrie sobbing in Brian's arms. Guthrie was a tough kid, he'd had to be growing up as the youngest of seven rough and tumble brothers, only once before had they ever heard this boy sobbing so brokenly. Adam's eyes met Brian's silently asking what had happened but all Brian could do was shrug.

Breaking the spell Hannah hurried over to the foldout, reaching to take Guthrie from Brian's arms. "Hey Guth," she softly spoke as her fingers played with his hair, "you want to talk about it?"

Guthrie shook his head, he couldn't talk about it, not yet.

"It might help," Hannah quietly encouraged the boy.

Adam sat down next to Hannah as Brian shifted over to make room. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about Guthrie, everybody has bad dreams." Adam remembered a few nightmares he'd had as a kid and how embarrassed he'd always been afterwards. He sure hadn't wanted to tell his parents about them, ashamed that he had let a stupid dream scare him.

"You don't," Guthrie mumbled.

"Sure I do, ask Hannah."

Guthrie looked up at his sister-in-law the question lighting his eyes. He was surprised when Hannah smiled softly and nodded in confirmation.

"Come on Guthrie, tell us about your dream," Brian added his encouragement. The rest of the brothers quickly echoed the encouragement, but the youngest only shook his head.

"Come on Guthrie you can't wake a guy up screaming and not tell him why," Daniel teased, earning a giggle.

Hannah moved her hand to the child's back, rubbing soothing circles. "Come on Guth tell us about it."

Guthrie took a shuddering breath. "It was awful. It started out like a normal day and then the newspaper came and we saw a horrible article on the front page." He took another breath, bracing himself. "It said that Hostess was going out of business and there would never be anymore Twinkies or Ding Dongs."

The others gasped, "Ho-Ho's?" Ford asked in a small voice.

Guthrie shook his head, "Not even them. We all went to town to see if we could get at least one last box of Twinkies or something. Everybody in town was at the store it seemed. People were walking through the store like, like...zombies or something. We were already too late, all of the shelves where the Hostess stuff was at were empty and folks were just standing there, staring at them, some of them were crying."

Guthrie would have stopped talking if he had seen the others smiling over his head. Only a twelve year old boy could imagine something like that and turn it into a nightmare. But still having his face pressed against Hannah he didn't see.

"We started to leave and then all of a sudden I saw a box of Twinkies under the shelf. I grabbed them and ran to you guys to tell you what I'd found." Guthrie sniffled, "But before I could get to you old man Wheeler saw me and he jerked them out of my hands. That was when I woke up." Now that he'd told them he was feeling pretty silly, his face reddening in embarrassment.

Adam took several deep breathes in an effort to stifle the laughter that threatened to erupt. He didn't look at anybody but Guthrie, knowing if he dared he would lose the battle. The rest of the family were no better off, each keeping their eyes firmly on the floor. Finally Adam managed to gain control.

"Well I guess that would be pretty scary but you know that could never happen don't you Guthrie?"

Guthrie shrugged, "I guess."

"First of all Hostess is a big company and they've been in business for a long time, heck they're as big a part of America as Thanksgiving and turkeys are. There is no way they'd ever go out of business but if they did people wouldn't go crazy like that over it. No matter how good they are they're still just snack cakes and breads."

"Guess it is pretty silly," Guthrie quietly admitted. "But Adam what if..."

Adam ruffled his hair, "Not gonna happen Guthrie, but if it'll make you feel better I'll buy you a box of Twinkies while I'm in town today."

Guthrie grinned, "Thanks Adam."

Hannah glanced at the clock, "Well now that the crisis has been averted how about I start breakfast while you cowboys go take care of chores."

"You heard the lady boys," Adam stood up. "We got work to do."

November 16th, 2012

Guthrie stepped into the storage building he'd built only a few months before, flicking the switch for the light. He gazed at the rows of boxes stacked on shelves throughout the building. He'd started collecting, some would say hoarding, right after having the storage unit built. It had been a relatively small article in the paper that spoke of a strike and the nightmare of years before returned to his conscious mind. He told himself he was being silly but maybe it had been a warning not a nightmare and so Guthrie had begun to plan for the end.

Stepping into the building he ran his hand in a loving caress over boxes of Twinkies, Ding Dongs, Cupcakes and many other snack cakes, a smile on his face. Satisfied that his supply was secure he turned back to the door. Flipping off the light he stepped into the cold November sunshine, shutting and locking the door behind him. "And Adam said it could never happen."

The End.

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A/N: I haven't forgotten about Prodigal Son but this story simply begged to be written.