Fic: To Bring Them Home
Title: To Bring Them Home
Fandom: Supernatural FPS
Characters: Sam, Dean
Rating: G
Summary: He just had to bring them home. For Dean.
Warning: Angst
Sam covered his ears but it didn’t work. He still could hear dad’s yelling at Dean, telling him that he had given him some money two days ago and if it was all gone now and they had nothing left to buy some food, it was all Dean’s problem. Because Dad was about to go on hunting again and he had no time for this. He didn’t want to know that Sam had needed some money for his excursion on Monday.
Quietly Sam left the room. Today was the day he began his work at a diner nearby. Not as a waiter, the owners didn’t want a twelve-year-old to be a waiter, of course, but they had agreed to have him do the dishes after he told them how badly he and his family needed the money.
It was almost eleven and Sam had been working non-stop since five or six, he wasn’t sure. His back was killing him. Sam rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand as he finished putting the last of the dishes to the rack. His eyes strayed around the kitchen, and stopped at the sight of a stack of limp French toasts and hash browns. His eyes widened. He didn’t remember removing them from the plates he’d been about to wash so… it wasn’t some leftovers - was it? Sam wiped his hands on his apron. He wondered - could they possibly let him bring them home? He should ask first, but the kitchen was empty.
Glancing over at the food again, Sam’s mind was resolved.
~~~
Dad wasn’t around when Sam was back to the motel - he must have long gone. Dean was back to sprawl on the tattered couch in front of the TV after he opened the door for Sam, and only huffed when Sam called him, so Sam called him again.
“What?” Dean asked, annoyed, turning to face Sam.
“Here. For you.” Sam handed over the brown bag he was carrying.
“What’s this?” Dean asked as he opened the bag. His head creased as he took out what was in it, gaping at Sam. “Sam?”
“Uh, that’s for you, Dean. Have you had dinner?” Sam tried to sound calm but he couldn’t stop his stammer.
“Sam. Did you steal it?” Dean’s eyes steeled and Sam got terrified at his cold voice.
“N-no! Of course not.”
“Where did you get it?”
“From the diner. I worked tonight, remember?”
There was a look of suspicion in Dean’s eyes. “Are these leftovers?”
“No, they’re not. Trust me, Dean. I didn’t steal and I will never bring home leftovers.” Though he didn’t tell anyone that he brought them either.
Dean stared at the bag as if a snake would jump out of it anytime. “How about you? You ate?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t lie this time. They gave him a plate of sandwiches before he started working.
Dean nodded. “Okay.” He calmed down and Sam drew a breath in relief. He sat down next to his brother as Dean helped himself with a slice of French toast. He munched slowly as his eyes met Sam’s.
Sam’s breath caught when he noticed the glimmer on Dean’s eyes. He’d never seen his brother cry, at least not that he knew of. Dean smiled but he looked a bit sad.
“Next time let me do the job, alright?” Dean said, his voice cracking. “You stay home and do your homework.”
“But Dean-” Sam halted at Dean’s raised hand.
“Did I ask your opinion on this?”
Sam hung his head. “No, Dean.”
“That’s right. I didn’t.”
~~~
AN: These are not about the story. I just miss them.
caps from homeofthenutty
Fandom: Supernatural FPS
Characters: Sam, Dean
Rating: G
Summary: He just had to bring them home. For Dean.
Warning: Angst
Sam covered his ears but it didn’t work. He still could hear dad’s yelling at Dean, telling him that he had given him some money two days ago and if it was all gone now and they had nothing left to buy some food, it was all Dean’s problem. Because Dad was about to go on hunting again and he had no time for this. He didn’t want to know that Sam had needed some money for his excursion on Monday.
Quietly Sam left the room. Today was the day he began his work at a diner nearby. Not as a waiter, the owners didn’t want a twelve-year-old to be a waiter, of course, but they had agreed to have him do the dishes after he told them how badly he and his family needed the money.
It was almost eleven and Sam had been working non-stop since five or six, he wasn’t sure. His back was killing him. Sam rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand as he finished putting the last of the dishes to the rack. His eyes strayed around the kitchen, and stopped at the sight of a stack of limp French toasts and hash browns. His eyes widened. He didn’t remember removing them from the plates he’d been about to wash so… it wasn’t some leftovers - was it? Sam wiped his hands on his apron. He wondered - could they possibly let him bring them home? He should ask first, but the kitchen was empty.
Glancing over at the food again, Sam’s mind was resolved.
~~~
Dad wasn’t around when Sam was back to the motel - he must have long gone. Dean was back to sprawl on the tattered couch in front of the TV after he opened the door for Sam, and only huffed when Sam called him, so Sam called him again.
“What?” Dean asked, annoyed, turning to face Sam.
“Here. For you.” Sam handed over the brown bag he was carrying.
“What’s this?” Dean asked as he opened the bag. His head creased as he took out what was in it, gaping at Sam. “Sam?”
“Uh, that’s for you, Dean. Have you had dinner?” Sam tried to sound calm but he couldn’t stop his stammer.
“Sam. Did you steal it?” Dean’s eyes steeled and Sam got terrified at his cold voice.
“N-no! Of course not.”
“Where did you get it?”
“From the diner. I worked tonight, remember?”
There was a look of suspicion in Dean’s eyes. “Are these leftovers?”
“No, they’re not. Trust me, Dean. I didn’t steal and I will never bring home leftovers.” Though he didn’t tell anyone that he brought them either.
Dean stared at the bag as if a snake would jump out of it anytime. “How about you? You ate?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t lie this time. They gave him a plate of sandwiches before he started working.
Dean nodded. “Okay.” He calmed down and Sam drew a breath in relief. He sat down next to his brother as Dean helped himself with a slice of French toast. He munched slowly as his eyes met Sam’s.
Sam’s breath caught when he noticed the glimmer on Dean’s eyes. He’d never seen his brother cry, at least not that he knew of. Dean smiled but he looked a bit sad.
“Next time let me do the job, alright?” Dean said, his voice cracking. “You stay home and do your homework.”
“But Dean-” Sam halted at Dean’s raised hand.
“Did I ask your opinion on this?”
Sam hung his head. “No, Dean.”
“That’s right. I didn’t.”
~~~
AN: These are not about the story. I just miss them.
caps from homeofthenutty