Dean does his best to ignore the staring as best as he can, simply for Sam's sake. No need to go freakijng him out and undoing how far they'd come. However, he sends the room a silent glare that plainly asks 'What the hell are you lot looking at?' It's got enough subtle threat for most to turn away.
Of course, there's always some morons in a room.
He sits Sam in a booth away from the majority of the crowd, sitting himself the other side to watch the room in his peripheral. The waitress comes over, looking reluctant to serve the two. But it's her job, and she's doing it. She greets them with a too-sweet smile and a too-perky tone to her voice, trying to act like Sam's weird behaviour wasn't bothering her and failing. "Hi, what're you having?" and yet Dean heard Hurry and order so I can go. Mind you, he's currently in a state of suspicious hyper-awareness, which probably isn't helping.
Getting from the Impala to the diner is a struggle, but Sam tries. He keeps his hand on his brother, relying on him to keep him steady. His head down, Sam doesn’t appear to notice the stares or furitive whispers. ‘Silent Sam’ they called him. Once they slide into a booth far removed from the noise of the kitchen, he relaxes, letting go of Dean’s arm.
He gives the waitress a guilless smile, clearly the message of ‘oh hi, pleasegoaway’ not registering. The pictures on the menu capture his attention and Sam stares, forgetting everything around him. His fingers trace over the bright colors, entranced, even if he doesn’t exactly understand what it is he’s looking at.
A muttered comment from a nearby table about giving the mutie a coloring book is completely lost on him.
But it's not missed by Dean. He suppresses a frustrated growl, and scans his menu. "Coffee, water, salad, cheeseburger." He says sharply, handing the menu back. He's also partially wondering if this is such a good idea. Maybe he should have waited... but no. Sam taking th initiative on eating was another breakthrough, so it's still a fan-freaking-tastic idea.
It's not his fault if they're surrounded by assholes.
The waitress moves to take the menu from Sam, but Dean holds up a hand. "It's fine, leave it with him." He gives her the best charming smile he can manage in her direction. She's gone, and dean leans over towards Sam.
"What'cha looking at, Sammy?" Forget everyone else. Focus on Sam. That's all he's gotta do.
The colors and shapes are familiar, and Sam runs his fingers along them. Square waffle, round cup of coffee. He might not understand what they are, but something about the images is pleasing and his faint smile returns, his eyes moving around and alive. Ordinarily the excitement would prove to be too much and he’d withdraw, or they’d find him in one of the smaller rooms of the house, huddled in on himself, tears leaking down his face. But the ride in the Impala seemed to give him some sort of a boost, a vital energy he’d been missing for years.
Lunch is delivered quickly and Sam picks up his fork. He’s seen this before. In short, uncoordinated movements, he stabs a piece of lettuce and brings it to his mouth. “Eat,” he muttered. “Eat.”
Comments 19
Of course, there's always some morons in a room.
He sits Sam in a booth away from the majority of the crowd, sitting himself the other side to watch the room in his peripheral. The waitress comes over, looking reluctant to serve the two. But it's her job, and she's doing it. She greets them with a too-sweet smile and a too-perky tone to her voice, trying to act like Sam's weird behaviour wasn't bothering her and failing. "Hi, what're you having?" and yet Dean heard Hurry and order so I can go. Mind you, he's currently in a state of suspicious hyper-awareness, which probably isn't helping.
Reply
He gives the waitress a guilless smile, clearly the message of ‘oh hi, pleasegoaway’ not registering. The pictures on the menu capture his attention and Sam stares, forgetting everything around him. His fingers trace over the bright colors, entranced, even if he doesn’t exactly understand what it is he’s looking at.
A muttered comment from a nearby table about giving the mutie a coloring book is completely lost on him.
Reply
It's not his fault if they're surrounded by assholes.
The waitress moves to take the menu from Sam, but Dean holds up a hand. "It's fine, leave it with him." He gives her the best charming smile he can manage in her direction. She's gone, and dean leans over towards Sam.
"What'cha looking at, Sammy?" Forget everyone else. Focus on Sam. That's all he's gotta do.
Reply
Lunch is delivered quickly and Sam picks up his fork. He’s seen this before. In short, uncoordinated movements, he stabs a piece of lettuce and brings it to his mouth. “Eat,” he muttered. “Eat.”
“Dean?” He points at the untouched burger. “Eat.”
Reply
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