Wednesday
Title: Wednesday
Author: youaredriving aka Scarletsptember
Originally posted at this thread in comment_fic
Rating: G
Warning: One-shot
Word Count: 449
Fandom/ Characters: Supernatural, Sam, Dean, Castiel
Summary: It's Wednesday, and they're alive. That's all that really matters.
At first it started out as a joke. Whenever there weren’t any angels around Dean would lean over and nudge Sam with a grin, “It’s Wednesday.”
Sam would take a moment, as if he had to recount the days that had gone by and nod to him self before smiling over at Dean, “Let’s get a beer.”
“Yeah?” Sam always managed to surprise Dean whenever he suggested they go out, but within seconds the keys to the Impala would be in his hand and they’d be out the door of whatever ragtag motel they found and on their way to a bar.
Then when everything got hard to handle, when the end was to close to ignore, it was Sam nudging Dean with a bruised shoulder and a busted grin, “It’s Wednesday.”
“We should drink,” Dean would suggest and they would. Nursing cold brews and in between sips the cold glass of the bottle soothed bruised jaws and busted knuckles.
It had gotten to the point if the Winchesters could make it to Wednesday, they’d find some way to celebrate. If it wasn’t beer, it’d be pie.
Castiel started showing up more often than not so they skipped a few Wednesdays, but after a run in with a demon that had Dean banged up and stuck in a bed Sam didn’t want to skip anymore Wednesdays. If this was the end then he was going to take every damn Wednesday he got with his brother.
So with grocery bags filled with pie, birthday cake candles, beer and ice, Sam headed back to the ruffled filled motel room and set the pie on the nightstand between the beds and stuck a candle in the pie. Trying to stay as quiet as possible Sam filled the bathroom sink with the ice and placed the beer in it to stay cool when swift change of pressure and the reflection of Castiel startled him.
“If I did not know the current state of the world or understand the two of you, I would fear for the state of your personal lives with the way you celebrate one week anniversaries of being alive.”
Sam stood staring at Castiel wondering how long he knew about Wednesdays before Sam pulled a book of matches out of his pocket, “Want to light the candle?”
“I believe that is Dean’s job,” Castiel stepped back just enough for Sam to scoot by to see Dean sitting up on the bed sleepily staring at the lone candle in the pie.
“It’s Wednesday?” Dean asked scratching at the back of his neck.
“It’s Wednesday,” Sam nodded with a grin before he tossed the matches over to Dean, “And we’re still alive.”