[FIC] lost for words. pg. spn gen. 770 words.
Title: Lost For Words
Fandom: Supernatural
Genre/Pairing: gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 770 words
Summary: "This car lasts forever pointing at 'empty'. Don't worry about it, dude. We'll make it to the next town."
Notes: For popcornleader, who needed a pick-me-up.
--
"Don't you think we should stop for gas, Dean? The fuel gauge is pointing kinda towards the 'empty' mark..."
"This car lasts forever pointing at 'empty'. Don't worry about it, dude. We'll make it to the next town."
They didn't.
It wasn't instant karma, but that made it worse. Instead of breaking down on the outskirts of a town that at least had a gas station, the car had held on for another fifty miles or so until they were firmly in the middle of nowhere, and then - clank, sputter, there was nothing left, and they drifted to a stop in the middle of a deserted highway.
Sam looked over at the dickhead in the driver's seat.
"I am going to kill you."
The sheepish look on Dean's face didn't really do much to ease Sam's desire to punch him in the face, even if it had worked a million other times. This, however, was a little different to "forgetting" which bed was his in the middle of the night.
"Come on, man. You think I don't keep a backup in the trunk?"
Sam didn't stop glaring.
"I think you've forgotten we used that the last time you let the gas get too low and we never filled it up again."
Dean sort of frowned for a moment, and Sam could see the cogs of his brain working to figure out the next excuse or snappy comeback, which usually would have been funny. If they hadn't been stranded in the middle of nowhere.
"Well, look. There are only a few options, here, and they're not all that bad. I mean, this is a road, right? Someone's gotta pass sooner or later, and we can ask for help - spare gas, a lift to the next town... it'll be fine, Sammy."
Sam's mouth was set in a thin line, and didn't really look like he could handle being called 'Sammy', let alone being told that they would have to hitchhike to get out of there.
"Dean..."
"What do you want, man? It's not like we can just call up our insurance company. So we're stuck."
"Well, I'm not standing on the side of the road waiting for someone to miraculously turn up."
"Dude. You're being a little melodramatic about this, don't you think?"
"Melodramatic! Dean, you completely ignored the fact the fuel gauge said the tank was empty, and now you're surprised and not taking any responsibility for the fact we are now stranded, without any fucking hope of getting out of here until someone just happens to drive down a fucking highway we haven't seen more than a stray dog on for three hours, and you're saying I'm being melodramatic?"
"That's what I'm saying."
Sam looked like he was about to explode. Dean was just annoyed that the music had stopped, and he glared at the tape deck instead of paying any attention to the fact that Sam was visibly trying not to strangle him.
"Dean," Sam's voice was level, but that was the part that made Dean look over at him. Dean could see the rest of the sentence in Sam's eyes - "I'm going to fucking kill you" - but Sam blinked once, very slowly, and let out a breath through his nose. "How far is it to the next town?"
"I don't know, man, aren't you the navigator, here?" It was a knee-jerk reaction, and Dean caught himself as soon as he saw Sam's nostrils flare. "Sorry, I mean... uh, I think we're not too far off. From the next small one, anyway. Fifteen, twenty miles?"
"Right." Sam looked outside, surveying the sky as it turned a dusty brown in the late twilight. "I'm going to sleep. Tomorrow morning, I'm walking. You are not going to sleep a wink in case someone happens to drive past."
"Walking? You can't walk twenty miles!"
"I'd rather walk and actually get somewhere than sit here, running out of what you dubiously call our food supplies, waiting for someone to maybe pass us and maybe be nice enough to help us out. Don't worry, I'll call you if I can't handle it."
The dry tone left a bad taste in Dean's mouth and he frowned at Sam, finally taking his hands off the steering wheel and folding them across his shoulder. Sam just rolled his eyes at Dean's sour expression and relocated to the back seat, which wasn't really any more comfortable than sitting in the front seat but it was at least he could pretend he was stretching out.
"Fine, but you'd better not make friends with any hell spawn this time."
fin
originally posted at littlealex 18 june 2008
Fandom: Supernatural
Genre/Pairing: gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 770 words
Summary: "This car lasts forever pointing at 'empty'. Don't worry about it, dude. We'll make it to the next town."
Notes: For popcornleader, who needed a pick-me-up.
--
"Don't you think we should stop for gas, Dean? The fuel gauge is pointing kinda towards the 'empty' mark..."
"This car lasts forever pointing at 'empty'. Don't worry about it, dude. We'll make it to the next town."
They didn't.
It wasn't instant karma, but that made it worse. Instead of breaking down on the outskirts of a town that at least had a gas station, the car had held on for another fifty miles or so until they were firmly in the middle of nowhere, and then - clank, sputter, there was nothing left, and they drifted to a stop in the middle of a deserted highway.
Sam looked over at the dickhead in the driver's seat.
"I am going to kill you."
The sheepish look on Dean's face didn't really do much to ease Sam's desire to punch him in the face, even if it had worked a million other times. This, however, was a little different to "forgetting" which bed was his in the middle of the night.
"Come on, man. You think I don't keep a backup in the trunk?"
Sam didn't stop glaring.
"I think you've forgotten we used that the last time you let the gas get too low and we never filled it up again."
Dean sort of frowned for a moment, and Sam could see the cogs of his brain working to figure out the next excuse or snappy comeback, which usually would have been funny. If they hadn't been stranded in the middle of nowhere.
"Well, look. There are only a few options, here, and they're not all that bad. I mean, this is a road, right? Someone's gotta pass sooner or later, and we can ask for help - spare gas, a lift to the next town... it'll be fine, Sammy."
Sam's mouth was set in a thin line, and didn't really look like he could handle being called 'Sammy', let alone being told that they would have to hitchhike to get out of there.
"Dean..."
"What do you want, man? It's not like we can just call up our insurance company. So we're stuck."
"Well, I'm not standing on the side of the road waiting for someone to miraculously turn up."
"Dude. You're being a little melodramatic about this, don't you think?"
"Melodramatic! Dean, you completely ignored the fact the fuel gauge said the tank was empty, and now you're surprised and not taking any responsibility for the fact we are now stranded, without any fucking hope of getting out of here until someone just happens to drive down a fucking highway we haven't seen more than a stray dog on for three hours, and you're saying I'm being melodramatic?"
"That's what I'm saying."
Sam looked like he was about to explode. Dean was just annoyed that the music had stopped, and he glared at the tape deck instead of paying any attention to the fact that Sam was visibly trying not to strangle him.
"Dean," Sam's voice was level, but that was the part that made Dean look over at him. Dean could see the rest of the sentence in Sam's eyes - "I'm going to fucking kill you" - but Sam blinked once, very slowly, and let out a breath through his nose. "How far is it to the next town?"
"I don't know, man, aren't you the navigator, here?" It was a knee-jerk reaction, and Dean caught himself as soon as he saw Sam's nostrils flare. "Sorry, I mean... uh, I think we're not too far off. From the next small one, anyway. Fifteen, twenty miles?"
"Right." Sam looked outside, surveying the sky as it turned a dusty brown in the late twilight. "I'm going to sleep. Tomorrow morning, I'm walking. You are not going to sleep a wink in case someone happens to drive past."
"Walking? You can't walk twenty miles!"
"I'd rather walk and actually get somewhere than sit here, running out of what you dubiously call our food supplies, waiting for someone to maybe pass us and maybe be nice enough to help us out. Don't worry, I'll call you if I can't handle it."
The dry tone left a bad taste in Dean's mouth and he frowned at Sam, finally taking his hands off the steering wheel and folding them across his shoulder. Sam just rolled his eyes at Dean's sour expression and relocated to the back seat, which wasn't really any more comfortable than sitting in the front seat but it was at least he could pretend he was stretching out.
"Fine, but you'd better not make friends with any hell spawn this time."
fin
originally posted at littlealex 18 june 2008