TCD Snippet
A little snippet on the occasion of Sam's birthday.
The ache in his wrist spiked as Sam tried to get the door open-and then, in an echo, every other bruise he had decided to make itself known. He switched hands to get the key turned, tucking his right hand up against his chest. He didn't remember hurting it last night.
Then again....
The damn key wouldn't work. And he needed something for pain. Maybe an x-ray.
Jesus. If he'd broken his wrist, Dean was never going to let him live this down.
Sam gave up on the private door into his room. He'd figure it out later, when his hand didn't hurt. The kitchen door shouldn't be locked-and if it was, he could go to the front door and lean on the doorbell. The van was here, so Dean and the Trio were here; they wouldn't hear him pounding on the door to his room, but the other doors were a different story.
The door swung up easily and silently. Relief-and a severe longing for some Tylenol-washed over him. He'd go take some drugs, maybe take a nap-
"Sam!" Dean's voice bellowed from somewhere deeper in the house. "That you?"
Shit. So much for sneaking in. Now he'd have to go make nice for a few minutes. "Yeah, Dean," he yelled back, heading through the kitchen towards the stairs.
He stopped short. The Trio was there, lined up on the steps, dressed neatly-not their best clothes, but the good ones-and all looking fresh-scrubbed and positively angelic. "What the-"
"Happy birthday, Uncle Sammy!" they chorused.
"Um," he managed, intelligently. Was it May already? Wasn't there supposed to be an April in there?
"Yes," Dean said, off to his left. He was sitting in the hall, a smirk on his face. "It's May. The second, to be exact."
"How do they-"
"Marcy's big on birthdays. It's on the calendar. They've been planning this for a week."
Oh, God. He didn't know if he could handle a birthday celebration from the Trio. Not today. "Thank you," he said to the girls. "You guys look-" like you're not hellions for once "-very nice."
"This isn't the surprise, Uncle Sammy," Ananda said, and he managed not to flinch. "We're taking you to breakfast."
"I-um-that's nice, guys, but-"
It was Nyssa who figured it out. "Why are you holding your arm that way, Uncle Sammy?"
He felt Dean's gaze rake sharply over him. "You okay there, Sam?"
"I think I twisted it, is all. I was just going to take something and lie down. I don't think it's broken, I can still move it." Every move hurt, but he could still move it.
"Let me see that," Dean said. It was the Dad voice, the one that left no option but obedience, and Sam sighed inwardly, but held out his arm anyway. Dean examined it, tried to turn it gently. Pain shot up his arm, making Sam hiss and jerk away.
"Uh-huh," Dean said. "Okay, guys, slight change of plans. You're giving Uncle Sammy two presents."
"We are?"
"Go get your shoes. We're taking him to get x-rays to make sure his arm's not broken, and you're going to behave your best for him." Dad voice again. "Then we'll go get breakfast. Or lunch." They scurried upstairs. "What happened?" Dean demanded.
"Me and Hannah had a fight."
"And she broke your wrist?"
"Um. Not exactly. This happened in the-um- Fuck it, I don't know. We were fine, then there was an argument, then we were making up, and somehow my arm got twisted. I'm going to be black-and-blue tomorrow."
Dean's eyes narrowed a bit. "No violence until the fight was over?"
"Just yelling. And then- I don't know what the hell. I mean, it wasn't really violence, not like she attacked me or anything-"
"Mutual attacking?" The smirk was back.
"More or less. If I'd said something, she would have stopped-"
Dean made a strangled noise, something like a snort, that burst into a full-fledged guffaw.
"Why are you-"
Dean held up his hand-well, one of them; he was pressing the other arm against his gut for support while he laughed until tears started running down his face.
Sam should probably be patient. Fuck that; his arm hurt and there were three little girls upstairs wanting to drag him to breakfast. "Would you share the goddamn punch line already?"
"Trying. Really. Oh, God," Dean finally managed. "I'm sorry. I- Marcy didn't get that gene and I never thought about warning you."
"About what?"
"Third swears Anne gave him a black eye the night they made Jenn, and Andy came back from the honeymoon with three broken ribs, and you get a couple of beers in him and Nick will talk for hours about Courtney- It's not intentional, it's all been accidents, just- They just-um-get really enthusiastic. The fight came out of nowhere?"
"Yeah. I thought she was trying to get me to leave and just didn't want to say so-"
"That was Reynolds foreplay, Sammy."
"It was what?"
"The Reynolds mating ritual. Like I said, it skipped Marcy, thank God. Hannah, apparently not so much."
Sam just stared at his brother. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Would I make this shit up?" Dean asked. "About Marcy's sisters?"
He had a point.
"Just as a warning-mostly it's arguing, but every now and then, apparently, they feel the need to get a little physical. You might want to make sure you're in decent fighting trim. Especially with her being a hunter and all."
"Oh, God," Sam groaned. "I hate this family."
Dean grinned, and reached up and patted him on the good arm. "Welcome to the I Married A Reynolds Club," he said.
"I am not marrying-"
"And happy birthday." Shoes clattered down the upstairs hall. "And you better have a restaurant picked out by the time we get your x-rays done, because I am not explaining to them that you don't want your present. They saved their allowance and used the fancy shampoo and everything."
Sam whimpered.
The ache in his wrist spiked as Sam tried to get the door open-and then, in an echo, every other bruise he had decided to make itself known. He switched hands to get the key turned, tucking his right hand up against his chest. He didn't remember hurting it last night.
Then again....
The damn key wouldn't work. And he needed something for pain. Maybe an x-ray.
Jesus. If he'd broken his wrist, Dean was never going to let him live this down.
Sam gave up on the private door into his room. He'd figure it out later, when his hand didn't hurt. The kitchen door shouldn't be locked-and if it was, he could go to the front door and lean on the doorbell. The van was here, so Dean and the Trio were here; they wouldn't hear him pounding on the door to his room, but the other doors were a different story.
The door swung up easily and silently. Relief-and a severe longing for some Tylenol-washed over him. He'd go take some drugs, maybe take a nap-
"Sam!" Dean's voice bellowed from somewhere deeper in the house. "That you?"
Shit. So much for sneaking in. Now he'd have to go make nice for a few minutes. "Yeah, Dean," he yelled back, heading through the kitchen towards the stairs.
He stopped short. The Trio was there, lined up on the steps, dressed neatly-not their best clothes, but the good ones-and all looking fresh-scrubbed and positively angelic. "What the-"
"Happy birthday, Uncle Sammy!" they chorused.
"Um," he managed, intelligently. Was it May already? Wasn't there supposed to be an April in there?
"Yes," Dean said, off to his left. He was sitting in the hall, a smirk on his face. "It's May. The second, to be exact."
"How do they-"
"Marcy's big on birthdays. It's on the calendar. They've been planning this for a week."
Oh, God. He didn't know if he could handle a birthday celebration from the Trio. Not today. "Thank you," he said to the girls. "You guys look-" like you're not hellions for once "-very nice."
"This isn't the surprise, Uncle Sammy," Ananda said, and he managed not to flinch. "We're taking you to breakfast."
"I-um-that's nice, guys, but-"
It was Nyssa who figured it out. "Why are you holding your arm that way, Uncle Sammy?"
He felt Dean's gaze rake sharply over him. "You okay there, Sam?"
"I think I twisted it, is all. I was just going to take something and lie down. I don't think it's broken, I can still move it." Every move hurt, but he could still move it.
"Let me see that," Dean said. It was the Dad voice, the one that left no option but obedience, and Sam sighed inwardly, but held out his arm anyway. Dean examined it, tried to turn it gently. Pain shot up his arm, making Sam hiss and jerk away.
"Uh-huh," Dean said. "Okay, guys, slight change of plans. You're giving Uncle Sammy two presents."
"We are?"
"Go get your shoes. We're taking him to get x-rays to make sure his arm's not broken, and you're going to behave your best for him." Dad voice again. "Then we'll go get breakfast. Or lunch." They scurried upstairs. "What happened?" Dean demanded.
"Me and Hannah had a fight."
"And she broke your wrist?"
"Um. Not exactly. This happened in the-um- Fuck it, I don't know. We were fine, then there was an argument, then we were making up, and somehow my arm got twisted. I'm going to be black-and-blue tomorrow."
Dean's eyes narrowed a bit. "No violence until the fight was over?"
"Just yelling. And then- I don't know what the hell. I mean, it wasn't really violence, not like she attacked me or anything-"
"Mutual attacking?" The smirk was back.
"More or less. If I'd said something, she would have stopped-"
Dean made a strangled noise, something like a snort, that burst into a full-fledged guffaw.
"Why are you-"
Dean held up his hand-well, one of them; he was pressing the other arm against his gut for support while he laughed until tears started running down his face.
Sam should probably be patient. Fuck that; his arm hurt and there were three little girls upstairs wanting to drag him to breakfast. "Would you share the goddamn punch line already?"
"Trying. Really. Oh, God," Dean finally managed. "I'm sorry. I- Marcy didn't get that gene and I never thought about warning you."
"About what?"
"Third swears Anne gave him a black eye the night they made Jenn, and Andy came back from the honeymoon with three broken ribs, and you get a couple of beers in him and Nick will talk for hours about Courtney- It's not intentional, it's all been accidents, just- They just-um-get really enthusiastic. The fight came out of nowhere?"
"Yeah. I thought she was trying to get me to leave and just didn't want to say so-"
"That was Reynolds foreplay, Sammy."
"It was what?"
"The Reynolds mating ritual. Like I said, it skipped Marcy, thank God. Hannah, apparently not so much."
Sam just stared at his brother. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Would I make this shit up?" Dean asked. "About Marcy's sisters?"
He had a point.
"Just as a warning-mostly it's arguing, but every now and then, apparently, they feel the need to get a little physical. You might want to make sure you're in decent fighting trim. Especially with her being a hunter and all."
"Oh, God," Sam groaned. "I hate this family."
Dean grinned, and reached up and patted him on the good arm. "Welcome to the I Married A Reynolds Club," he said.
"I am not marrying-"
"And happy birthday." Shoes clattered down the upstairs hall. "And you better have a restaurant picked out by the time we get your x-rays done, because I am not explaining to them that you don't want your present. They saved their allowance and used the fancy shampoo and everything."
Sam whimpered.