Ficlet
So, here’s a ficlet in honour of the amazing meus_venator's birthday...
(was meant to be fluff, but then it took on a life of its own and became angsty.*shrugs helplessly*)
[SPN, Stanford Era]
“Get the pineapple flavour, would you Sam? It’s Brady’s favourite.” Jessica’s voice called from the next isle of the supermarket.
Sam blinked.
Its Brady’s favourite.
He had never realized how nice...how important- it was for someone to care enough about you to know your favourites. And for a brief moment, he allowed himself to be jealous of Brady. The only man who had known all his favourites didn’t want anything to do with him.
Was just... gone from his life.
∞‡∞
“Dude, there was no grape?” Dean asked as he glanced at the apple juice in his brother’s hand as Sam pulled out the groceries and began putting them away.
Sam looked down at the bottle in his hands in confusion, “We always get apple.”
“Yeah...”
It took a second for Sam to connect the bread-crumb trail of his brother’s aborted thoughts, “You prefer grape.”
Dean raised a silent eyebrow that said ‘duh’ more eloquently than anything he could have said.
“I-...I didn’t know.”
The elder Winchester shrugged. “It’s cool, don’t worry about it. We can always pick up some grape juice for me the next time we head into town.”
Sam nodded, but he was busy trying to remember an instance from their childhood when they had purchased grape juice instead of apple. His mind came up blank.
“Dean?”
“Yeah, Sammy?”
“Why did we never get grape juice as kids?”
“You’re still a kid, Sammy,”
“Dean.” He grumbled, unhappy with the evasion.
“Apple was your favourite flavour...and Dad’s.” Dean answered after a moment, eyes carefully concealed as he focussed on the guns he had been cleaning.
“But- but you liked-...like grape.”
This time Dean did look up- his expressive eyes filled with confusion, “You got a point in there somewhere?”
“You like grape.” Sam found himself repeating.
“I know. I just told you.”
He bit his lip, “You knew my favourite flavour.”
“Yeah, ‘cause I’m awesome like that!” His brother crowed before sobering; “What are you trying to say, kiddo?”
“I didn’t- don’t know any of your favourites.”
Dean frowned. “Sam, don’t make this into something it ain’t.”
“But-”
“Sammy.”
∞‡∞
“Sam?”
He glanced up.
“Never seen someone getting so contemplative over juice,” Jess snarked, smiling up at him as she came round the aisle to find him staring at the rows of juice bottles blankly.
“Sorry.”
“So, what were you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
∞‡∞
The end.
∞‡∞∞‡∞