The Whats It
Summary: There aren't enough rooftop confessions to go around, but god, Dean, would you just let it go?
Category: Generic character story. Oneshot.
Timeline: Coda for Croatoan (2.09)
Characters: Sam & Dean
Wordcount: 245
Rating: PG
Written: Sep. 18th, 2007
Prompt: from
15_minute_fic: 'Call' It must be written within 15 minutes and posted after checking for grammar, spelling and punctuation only, no editing.
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He was not sure when Sam started in with this silent brooding thing, but it sure was getting really old. Really, really quick.
The headlights on the highway were passing like trailing starbursts and Dean wiped his face with one long hand. It paused over his mouth before he let go and turned the radio down. Sam changed the station back, interrupting that awesome riff in Smoke On The Water without even offering a cursory glance. Then he had the nerve to turn it back up.
Dean turned it back down. And waited.
"Dude, I'm not gonna talk about it anymore."
Fine, Dean thought, but said nothing. There was only silence and the small notes of some random mellow song wafting out the windows.
"She made a pretty deep cut," Dean finally reflected.
Sam looked up with for crying out loud written all over his face and grabbed onto the window sill with the tips of his fingers.
"What do you call that?" Dean said.
"I don't know, OK? I don't know," Sam was finally looking at him, at least. "Seriously, it's like you think I'm keeping something from you."
Dammit Sammy would you quit freakin out. I'm right here. We'll figure this out. Just talk to me.
"Why would you even think that I would do that? Keep something from you?"
"I didn't say that Sammy..."
"No. But we're both thinking it."
Dean glanced back, looked away and kept driving through the hazy light.
Category: Generic character story. Oneshot.
Timeline: Coda for Croatoan (2.09)
Characters: Sam & Dean
Wordcount: 245
Rating: PG
Written: Sep. 18th, 2007
Prompt: from
15_minute_fic: 'Call' It must be written within 15 minutes and posted after checking for grammar, spelling and punctuation only, no editing.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
He was not sure when Sam started in with this silent brooding thing, but it sure was getting really old. Really, really quick.
The headlights on the highway were passing like trailing starbursts and Dean wiped his face with one long hand. It paused over his mouth before he let go and turned the radio down. Sam changed the station back, interrupting that awesome riff in Smoke On The Water without even offering a cursory glance. Then he had the nerve to turn it back up.
Dean turned it back down. And waited.
"Dude, I'm not gonna talk about it anymore."
Fine, Dean thought, but said nothing. There was only silence and the small notes of some random mellow song wafting out the windows.
"She made a pretty deep cut," Dean finally reflected.
Sam looked up with for crying out loud written all over his face and grabbed onto the window sill with the tips of his fingers.
"What do you call that?" Dean said.
"I don't know, OK? I don't know," Sam was finally looking at him, at least. "Seriously, it's like you think I'm keeping something from you."
Dammit Sammy would you quit freakin out. I'm right here. We'll figure this out. Just talk to me.
"Why would you even think that I would do that? Keep something from you?"
"I didn't say that Sammy..."
"No. But we're both thinking it."
Dean glanced back, looked away and kept driving through the hazy light.