Fic: On the Road
Title: There's a Car
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~500
Summary: Sometimes the simplest things are the most fun. A snippet of the boys on the road. Using every prompt in table 1: On the Road for the 1 Year Partay.
“It’s no fun if you don’t play, Sam,” Dean whined. “There’s a car.” He pointed to the battered blue car rushing towards them on the other side of the road, the first change in scenery for at least five minutes.
“It’s the stupidest game ever, Dean,” Sam sniped back. They’d been in the car for hours. His legs were cramped, the land they were driving through was flat and dull, and his brother kept trying to force him to play ridiculous children’s games. He moved his legs, trying to find a comfortable position. It didn’t help. He crossed his arms and glared out at the empty landscape.
“Oh, come on. You used to love this game. There’s a car.” A grey sedan swooped past in the opposite direction.
“When I was six, Dean. I think I can handle something a bit more complex, now.”
“When you were six, huh?” Dean snorted, “I’m pretty sure you were at least fifteen that time we ran out of gas in Nebraska and you made me play it for six hours straight while Dad ran to the gas station.”
“The gas station ‘just ahead’ on the highway?” Sam made speech marks with his fingers. “That billboard was a load of crap. Last time I checked, just ahead didn’t mean three hours walk. Why didn’t Dad have a can of gas in the car?”
“We used it on the grave the night before. Stop changing the subject. There’s a car. You love this game. There’s a car. Six hours, and you wouldn’t even let me change it to ‘guess the colour’ or ‘my car your car’.”
“I was nine, Dean.”
“You were at least twelve.”
“Nine.”
“Things don’t stop being awesome just because you’re a ‘grown up’ now. This is timeless entertainment, Sammy. Play with me. There’sacarthere’sacarthere’sacarthere’sacarthere’sacar there’sacarthere’sacarthere’sacarthere’sacarthere’sacarthere’sacarthere’sacar.” A line of traffic passed, stuck behind an ancient, banged up red hatchback that was belching black smoke.
“Can’t we listen to the radio or something? I’ll listen to Metallica and not even mention how loud and tuneless it is.”
“We’re having quality family time, Sam. And I am not going to - there’s a car - rise to your bait.”
Sam flicked the radio on anyway. Four stations of static later, a burst of music came through clearly, drowning out Dean’s “There’s a car” as another grey car sped past.
“What the hell is this crap?” Dean turned the radio off.
Sam turned it back on. “It’s a contest,” he said.
“What the hell kind of radio station has a yodelling contest?” Dean turned it off again. “There’s a car.”
“I was listening to that.”
“You were not! Not even you could want to hear that.”
“Was too.”
“Were not.”
“Was too.”
“Were not. There’s a car.”
Sam switched the radio back on and held his hand over the button so Dean couldn’t get to it. “Am too.”
“Fine, keep it on. But if I have to listen to yodelling with you, you have to play ‘There’s a Car’ with me. There’s a car.”
Sam turned the radio off. Truth be told, there was only so much amateur yodelling he could take, and it was no fun if it didn’t annoy Dean. “Fine,” he sighed. “There’s a rabbit.”
“You’re doing it wrong, Sam! It’s called ‘There’s a Car’ for a reason. There’s a car.”
The End.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~500
Summary: Sometimes the simplest things are the most fun. A snippet of the boys on the road. Using every prompt in table 1: On the Road for the 1 Year Partay.
“It’s no fun if you don’t play, Sam,” Dean whined. “There’s a car.” He pointed to the battered blue car rushing towards them on the other side of the road, the first change in scenery for at least five minutes.
“It’s the stupidest game ever, Dean,” Sam sniped back. They’d been in the car for hours. His legs were cramped, the land they were driving through was flat and dull, and his brother kept trying to force him to play ridiculous children’s games. He moved his legs, trying to find a comfortable position. It didn’t help. He crossed his arms and glared out at the empty landscape.
“Oh, come on. You used to love this game. There’s a car.” A grey sedan swooped past in the opposite direction.
“When I was six, Dean. I think I can handle something a bit more complex, now.”
“When you were six, huh?” Dean snorted, “I’m pretty sure you were at least fifteen that time we ran out of gas in Nebraska and you made me play it for six hours straight while Dad ran to the gas station.”
“The gas station ‘just ahead’ on the highway?” Sam made speech marks with his fingers. “That billboard was a load of crap. Last time I checked, just ahead didn’t mean three hours walk. Why didn’t Dad have a can of gas in the car?”
“We used it on the grave the night before. Stop changing the subject. There’s a car. You love this game. There’s a car. Six hours, and you wouldn’t even let me change it to ‘guess the colour’ or ‘my car your car’.”
“I was nine, Dean.”
“You were at least twelve.”
“Nine.”
“Things don’t stop being awesome just because you’re a ‘grown up’ now. This is timeless entertainment, Sammy. Play with me. There’sacarthere’sacarthere’sacarthere’sacarthere’sacar there’sacarthere’sacarthere’sacarthere’sacarthere’sacarthere’sacarthere’sacar.” A line of traffic passed, stuck behind an ancient, banged up red hatchback that was belching black smoke.
“Can’t we listen to the radio or something? I’ll listen to Metallica and not even mention how loud and tuneless it is.”
“We’re having quality family time, Sam. And I am not going to - there’s a car - rise to your bait.”
Sam flicked the radio on anyway. Four stations of static later, a burst of music came through clearly, drowning out Dean’s “There’s a car” as another grey car sped past.
“What the hell is this crap?” Dean turned the radio off.
Sam turned it back on. “It’s a contest,” he said.
“What the hell kind of radio station has a yodelling contest?” Dean turned it off again. “There’s a car.”
“I was listening to that.”
“You were not! Not even you could want to hear that.”
“Was too.”
“Were not.”
“Was too.”
“Were not. There’s a car.”
Sam switched the radio back on and held his hand over the button so Dean couldn’t get to it. “Am too.”
“Fine, keep it on. But if I have to listen to yodelling with you, you have to play ‘There’s a Car’ with me. There’s a car.”
Sam turned the radio off. Truth be told, there was only so much amateur yodelling he could take, and it was no fun if it didn’t annoy Dean. “Fine,” he sighed. “There’s a rabbit.”
“You’re doing it wrong, Sam! It’s called ‘There’s a Car’ for a reason. There’s a car.”
The End.