“Good,” Dean said and this time it wasn’t too much of a lie. He was doing better, even if parts of him still thought it was a damn shame home had gone up in flames. His head felt clearer then it had in a long time - he wasn’t sure exactly how long he’d been on that table - and it was easier then yesterday to walk.
So yeah, things were kinda good, relatively speaking.
He came the rest of the way into the room, the proto-demon walking with barely any wobbling. Hours of practice meant while he might still suck at running, walking wasn’t going to be a problem anymore and he was almost pleased, even if his corpse’s face couldn’t show it. Sam, on the other hand, looked beat to all hell. At least, Dean thought he looked tired. It wasn’t like he had the best read on humans these days. But if he’d been tired dragging his own corpse up and down that goddamn forest, then Sam had to be beat when he had to drag the both of ‘em all the way here. Wracking the less fuzzy patches in his memory, Dean suddenly had an ah-ha moment when it dawned on him. Sam didn’t run on the same steam he did. He needed… - okay, Dean’s mind blanked there but it just came back after the two second brain fart. He needed food, right? Food and water. Humans need food and water. He remembered needing it too.
“You look hungry,” Dean added, testing the grounds, black eyes on his brother. He finally blinked, a lazy motion like he wasn’t much used to doing it, “I don’t remember seeing you get anything in you yesterday, Sam.”
Or the day before, but they’d spent most of it running and taking shelter in the forest, so he figured that was a pretty good excuse to forget. Still, he was at a loss of what to get Sam to eat. Right now he just remembered eating, not what he actually ate.
Remembering even that much was a big leap over two days ago.
Actually, it would’ve been convenient if Sam was powered on the same stuff he was, but they didn’t have the tools or the experience for that and he wasn’t ready to suggest to his brother that there was really a way to fix all his problems, even if Dean wasn’t the man for the job. Dean didn’t trust himself to sit down on that bed without getting spilled right off - what was it with humans and not using hard surfaces like sane people would? - and instead he opted to check out the window, lifting the curtain away with one hand. More pillars of smoke outside. Farther away there was a house that was on fire. He didn’t think it’d been on fire a few hours ago, but he couldn’t say for sure.
No birds in the sky yet. He’d looked, real keen on his chances of seeing one eat a whole human and not just a measly leg. Maybe they hadn’t figured out there was a whole load of humans trying to hide here. Not yet, anyway.
So yeah, things were kinda good, relatively speaking.
He came the rest of the way into the room, the proto-demon walking with barely any wobbling. Hours of practice meant while he might still suck at running, walking wasn’t going to be a problem anymore and he was almost pleased, even if his corpse’s face couldn’t show it. Sam, on the other hand, looked beat to all hell. At least, Dean thought he looked tired. It wasn’t like he had the best read on humans these days. But if he’d been tired dragging his own corpse up and down that goddamn forest, then Sam had to be beat when he had to drag the both of ‘em all the way here. Wracking the less fuzzy patches in his memory, Dean suddenly had an ah-ha moment when it dawned on him. Sam didn’t run on the same steam he did. He needed… - okay, Dean’s mind blanked there but it just came back after the two second brain fart. He needed food, right? Food and water. Humans need food and water. He remembered needing it too.
“You look hungry,” Dean added, testing the grounds, black eyes on his brother. He finally blinked, a lazy motion like he wasn’t much used to doing it, “I don’t remember seeing you get anything in you yesterday, Sam.”
Or the day before, but they’d spent most of it running and taking shelter in the forest, so he figured that was a pretty good excuse to forget. Still, he was at a loss of what to get Sam to eat. Right now he just remembered eating, not what he actually ate.
Remembering even that much was a big leap over two days ago.
Actually, it would’ve been convenient if Sam was powered on the same stuff he was, but they didn’t have the tools or the experience for that and he wasn’t ready to suggest to his brother that there was really a way to fix all his problems, even if Dean wasn’t the man for the job. Dean didn’t trust himself to sit down on that bed without getting spilled right off - what was it with humans and not using hard surfaces like sane people would? - and instead he opted to check out the window, lifting the curtain away with one hand. More pillars of smoke outside. Farther away there was a house that was on fire. He didn’t think it’d been on fire a few hours ago, but he couldn’t say for sure.
No birds in the sky yet. He’d looked, real keen on his chances of seeing one eat a whole human and not just a measly leg. Maybe they hadn’t figured out there was a whole load of humans trying to hide here. Not yet, anyway.
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