(no subject)
“You’re a jerk,” Sam slurs, tears blurring with the traces of alcohol, and he sways. “And not the good kind. The bad kind.”
“There’s a good kind?” Dean attempts to joke, but the words stick heavy in his throat and Sam rolls his eyes, the movement sending him careening off the stool, smashing into the floor with a sickening crack that has Dean instantly by his side.
“Go away!” Sam yells, and the eyes of the bar are on them, Sam staggering to his feet and out the door, Dean at his elbow. “That’s what you want to do anyway, isn’t it?”
“Huh?” is all Dean can muster, his exhausted brain racing to keep up with Sam’s anger.
“You threw away my present!” Sam cries, voice cracking as he suddenly crouches in the mud, hands over his head as if ready for the next blow. And Dean is there, hands on Sam’s face, urgently forcing their eyes to meet.
“You mean this?” Dean says softly, eyes glistening as he pulls the amulet from under his shirt, the metal shining with fresh polish and rain. Sam stares, and Dean cannot help laughing at the wide-eyed wonder in his eyes. “I scared the crap out of the cleaning lady, rushed her and her pile of trash bags. Ended up dumpster diving, but I found it. When I got back to the room, you were gone.”
“Sorry,” Sam whispers, and Dean sighs, wiping Sam’s eyes with the one corner of dry sleeve he has left, catching him as the alcohol and exhaustion hit and he sags towards the ground. Dean slings one of Sam’s arms around his shoulders and heads for the car, then hears Sam’s voice in his ear. “Can we stop and get some fireworks?”
“When it stops raining, Sammy,” Dean whispers back, grinning as he slings Sam into the passenger side. “I promise.”
She views him as if through thick, dark smoke, the back of his head peeking from an open locker, his long fingers gripping Watership Down as if it is the only thing keeping him afloat. His shadow tastes like saltwater and blood, trailing fine sand in its wake, and she follows him like a trailblazer, but she knows she has walked this path before.
Dr. Linus calls him Karl in attendance, firmly places his seat on the opposite side of the room from hers, and when she is near enough to brush by his sunburned skin it is enough to make her want to sail away with him.
“There’s a good kind?” Dean attempts to joke, but the words stick heavy in his throat and Sam rolls his eyes, the movement sending him careening off the stool, smashing into the floor with a sickening crack that has Dean instantly by his side.
“Go away!” Sam yells, and the eyes of the bar are on them, Sam staggering to his feet and out the door, Dean at his elbow. “That’s what you want to do anyway, isn’t it?”
“Huh?” is all Dean can muster, his exhausted brain racing to keep up with Sam’s anger.
“You threw away my present!” Sam cries, voice cracking as he suddenly crouches in the mud, hands over his head as if ready for the next blow. And Dean is there, hands on Sam’s face, urgently forcing their eyes to meet.
“You mean this?” Dean says softly, eyes glistening as he pulls the amulet from under his shirt, the metal shining with fresh polish and rain. Sam stares, and Dean cannot help laughing at the wide-eyed wonder in his eyes. “I scared the crap out of the cleaning lady, rushed her and her pile of trash bags. Ended up dumpster diving, but I found it. When I got back to the room, you were gone.”
“Sorry,” Sam whispers, and Dean sighs, wiping Sam’s eyes with the one corner of dry sleeve he has left, catching him as the alcohol and exhaustion hit and he sags towards the ground. Dean slings one of Sam’s arms around his shoulders and heads for the car, then hears Sam’s voice in his ear. “Can we stop and get some fireworks?”
“When it stops raining, Sammy,” Dean whispers back, grinning as he slings Sam into the passenger side. “I promise.”
She views him as if through thick, dark smoke, the back of his head peeking from an open locker, his long fingers gripping Watership Down as if it is the only thing keeping him afloat. His shadow tastes like saltwater and blood, trailing fine sand in its wake, and she follows him like a trailblazer, but she knows she has walked this path before.
Dr. Linus calls him Karl in attendance, firmly places his seat on the opposite side of the room from hers, and when she is near enough to brush by his sunburned skin it is enough to make her want to sail away with him.