[Two-Ply PG, Dean, Sam -The End spoiler
(being edited, don't mind this post)
Title: Two-Ply
Rating: PG
Characters: Sam, Dean (gen)
Notes: Spoilers for The End. Just a short Drabble.
Disclaimer:The brothers don't belong to me. They just keep me company while the country I'm in dissolves away in floods.
Summary It's the small things. Like having two-ply handy.
First there was just one roll. It showed up next to the holy water, and Sam thought nothing of it. They were caught often enough, just them and the wilderness, and having a little toilet paper on hand wasn’t a bad idea.
The second roll was tucked into the duffle bag, next to a lucky Buddha and a set of Tibetan prayer beads. Sam mentally made note of it, but figured it was just part of Dean’s back up, because Dean had become pretty careful recently about redundancy in his plans.
By the third roll, found while Sam was hunting under the seat for his favorite switchblade, Sam started to think that maybe something was up.
The forth and fifth rolls confirmed it, and Sam wondered if his brother was sick. He was pretty sure he would have noticed if his brother suddenly had IBS. And even then, the toilet paper would probably come out about even, not continually building upon itself.
He decided to mention Dean’s sudden obsession when a twelve pack of super soft two-ply showed up in the trunk. Dean hadn’t even bothered to hide it. (But then, how could he?) He brought a roll into the motel where Dean was bent over an old tome.
“Seriously, Dean? What’s with the toilet paper? Do you know something about killing Lucifer that I don’t? Death by two-ply?” Sam tossed the roll to Dean, who instinctively caught it. Sam expected his brother to look embarrassed or come back with a smart comment. Dean held the roll; looking at it way more thoughtfully than Sam ever felt was due to toilet paper. And did Dean look sad? But then the expression was gone, and Dean threw the roll back.
“Just advice from an old friend. Don’t worry about it.”
Title: Two-Ply
Rating: PG
Characters: Sam, Dean (gen)
Notes: Spoilers for The End. Just a short Drabble.
Disclaimer:The brothers don't belong to me. They just keep me company while the country I'm in dissolves away in floods.
Summary It's the small things. Like having two-ply handy.
First there was just one roll. It showed up next to the holy water, and Sam thought nothing of it. They were caught often enough, just them and the wilderness, and having a little toilet paper on hand wasn’t a bad idea.
The second roll was tucked into the duffle bag, next to a lucky Buddha and a set of Tibetan prayer beads. Sam mentally made note of it, but figured it was just part of Dean’s back up, because Dean had become pretty careful recently about redundancy in his plans.
By the third roll, found while Sam was hunting under the seat for his favorite switchblade, Sam started to think that maybe something was up.
The forth and fifth rolls confirmed it, and Sam wondered if his brother was sick. He was pretty sure he would have noticed if his brother suddenly had IBS. And even then, the toilet paper would probably come out about even, not continually building upon itself.
He decided to mention Dean’s sudden obsession when a twelve pack of super soft two-ply showed up in the trunk. Dean hadn’t even bothered to hide it. (But then, how could he?) He brought a roll into the motel where Dean was bent over an old tome.
“Seriously, Dean? What’s with the toilet paper? Do you know something about killing Lucifer that I don’t? Death by two-ply?” Sam tossed the roll to Dean, who instinctively caught it. Sam expected his brother to look embarrassed or come back with a smart comment. Dean held the roll; looking at it way more thoughtfully than Sam ever felt was due to toilet paper. And did Dean look sad? But then the expression was gone, and Dean threw the roll back.
“Just advice from an old friend. Don’t worry about it.”