Fic: Fix the Little Things (Supernatural)
Fix The Little Things
By: M14Mouse
Summary: Dean didn’t notice it at first. It is only when Sam is sick did he pick up the little things that got fixed.
Disclaimer: Don’t own them.
A/N: This was suppose to be a drabble...uh...1000 words later...not a drabble. Opps? This fic is answer this prompt. Enjoy!
Looking back, Dean thought that it first happened with his bed at Bobby’s place or maybe it was sooner with something else. He might not have been attention back then. Now, he started to pay attention when it was the bed.
The bed was old and smelled from being trapped in a closet for too long. It was a step above an army cot if he was asked. It was squeaky every time that he laid down. It drove him up the wall numerous times. He didn’t bother to fix it. He was only going to use it when he was at Bobby’s. When he was reminded of it, he was already too tired to give a crap.
So, he tossed and turned in the bed until his exhaustion or his damn stubbornness made him go to sleep.
Then one day, it hit him. There was no noise…no squeaking.
Maybe, it was after dad died…or maybe it got fixed even later.
He just remembered lying in bed and realizing there was no noise.
He knew that Bobby didn’t fix it because like in hell was he going to tell him.
But he did tell Sam one night when he was tossing and turning in the damn thing.
Tomorrow, he will thank Sam for fixing it.
Tomorrow sounded good.
It is funny that tomorrow he forgot about it.
-SPNSPN-
Next thing that got fixed was the cassette player in the Impala.
It started in Memphis. It chewed up a couple of tapes here and there until they made it to Dallas. Not a big deal. Now, it kept eating his damn tapes every time he put one into the player. It was some of his favorites too!
Now, he was at some gas station trying to fix it. Sam was busy getting them food for the road.
“Damn it!” He said as he cursed at the tape player and hit at the panel.
“Dean? What is wrong?” Sam said as he popped his head into view.
“Damn, tape player eating the tapes. I got to replace it…again,” He said with a groan.
“Maybe, she finally had enough your Styx tape.”
He gave his brother a look. Sam just grinned.
“Before you tear out the dashboard…let me look at it. Be right back,” Sam said as he disappeared from view. A few minutes later, he returned with a small tool kit. He opened the door and slipped into the car. He pulled out two tiny flat nosed screwdrivers and popped open the little flap. Sam hummed for a moment as he did…whatever. A few moments later, Sam pulled back.
“Done.”
“What did you do?”
”Just try it.”
He turned the key and let the engine roar to life. He put in another tape and let the sound of Rolling Stone fill the car. Few minutes later, he popped it out. There was no mess and no fuss. He turned to his brother.
“I didn’t know that you loved my tapes so much.”
“I didn’t want you to complain about your music for the next 1000 miles.”
“Come on…you know that you will miss it.”
“You wish, jerk.”
“I know you will, bitch.”
-SPNSPN-
Normally, he preferred guns to knives but this one was special.
This one belonged to their dad. It was the first knife that dad trained him with. It was the first one that he killed with….a sort of swamp thing in Louisiana. Most of all, it survived a lot of shit.
It survived passing through numerous hands…his, Sam, their dad, and countless other hunters that hunted with them for a time. Sure, it had it nicks and broken off pieces of wood. But it survived like them.
It took a damn car crash to destroy it.
The blade was still good but the handle was totally destroyed.
It could be fixed but finding a person was a pain in the ass.
Most people had told them that it wasn’t worth the trouble. Just get a new one.
Not happening.
He remembered complaining to Sam about it. His brother just nodded his head.
Few weeks later, the knife was sitting on his bed. It looked brand new and everything.
He didn’t know how Sam fixed it or got it fixed.
Like the little things, he never asked
-SPNSPN-
Until now…
“Dean…” Sam said in a squeaky sort of voice. He looked up from his magazine and frowned. Sam was wrapped in a ton of blankets on his bed and watching some education crap that he wasn’t pay attention. Sam got the flu somewhere in Kansas and he sounded like crap. It didn’t help that it was in the middle of November and it was cold as hell outside.
So, they were holing up in some motel with a decent heater until Sammy is well enough to travel.
“Membe to fix it,” Sam said with a grumble.
He blinked…what? Sam was always acted loopy on cold medicine.
“Fix what?”
“’he make clunky…clunky noise.”
“What?”
“Clunky…clunky noise again. She ‘en doing it,” Sam said like it was the most important thing in the world.
His throat tightened slightly. Finally, he caught on what Sam was saying.
“What is wrong with her?”
“Oil Change…’ake her grumpy without one,” Sam grumbled.
He almost wanted to run outside and check. He was always better making sure that she was alright. Somehow, between Purgatory and here…he forgot to take care of his girl. Perhaps, his baby brother too. Even if he dropped the ball, Sam has picked it up.
“Don’t worry, Sammy. I got it.”
“Not Sammy…Sam!”
He laughed softly.
“I got it.”
He watched his brother nodded his head and curl back into the blankets. While he was so busy with fixing the big things…like the end of world crap. His brother has been fixing the little things and he hasn’t notice.
Now, he has…and he never been so graceful.
End
By: M14Mouse
Summary: Dean didn’t notice it at first. It is only when Sam is sick did he pick up the little things that got fixed.
Disclaimer: Don’t own them.
A/N: This was suppose to be a drabble...uh...1000 words later...not a drabble. Opps? This fic is answer this prompt. Enjoy!
Looking back, Dean thought that it first happened with his bed at Bobby’s place or maybe it was sooner with something else. He might not have been attention back then. Now, he started to pay attention when it was the bed.
The bed was old and smelled from being trapped in a closet for too long. It was a step above an army cot if he was asked. It was squeaky every time that he laid down. It drove him up the wall numerous times. He didn’t bother to fix it. He was only going to use it when he was at Bobby’s. When he was reminded of it, he was already too tired to give a crap.
So, he tossed and turned in the bed until his exhaustion or his damn stubbornness made him go to sleep.
Then one day, it hit him. There was no noise…no squeaking.
Maybe, it was after dad died…or maybe it got fixed even later.
He just remembered lying in bed and realizing there was no noise.
He knew that Bobby didn’t fix it because like in hell was he going to tell him.
But he did tell Sam one night when he was tossing and turning in the damn thing.
Tomorrow, he will thank Sam for fixing it.
Tomorrow sounded good.
It is funny that tomorrow he forgot about it.
-SPNSPN-
Next thing that got fixed was the cassette player in the Impala.
It started in Memphis. It chewed up a couple of tapes here and there until they made it to Dallas. Not a big deal. Now, it kept eating his damn tapes every time he put one into the player. It was some of his favorites too!
Now, he was at some gas station trying to fix it. Sam was busy getting them food for the road.
“Damn it!” He said as he cursed at the tape player and hit at the panel.
“Dean? What is wrong?” Sam said as he popped his head into view.
“Damn, tape player eating the tapes. I got to replace it…again,” He said with a groan.
“Maybe, she finally had enough your Styx tape.”
He gave his brother a look. Sam just grinned.
“Before you tear out the dashboard…let me look at it. Be right back,” Sam said as he disappeared from view. A few minutes later, he returned with a small tool kit. He opened the door and slipped into the car. He pulled out two tiny flat nosed screwdrivers and popped open the little flap. Sam hummed for a moment as he did…whatever. A few moments later, Sam pulled back.
“Done.”
“What did you do?”
”Just try it.”
He turned the key and let the engine roar to life. He put in another tape and let the sound of Rolling Stone fill the car. Few minutes later, he popped it out. There was no mess and no fuss. He turned to his brother.
“I didn’t know that you loved my tapes so much.”
“I didn’t want you to complain about your music for the next 1000 miles.”
“Come on…you know that you will miss it.”
“You wish, jerk.”
“I know you will, bitch.”
-SPNSPN-
Normally, he preferred guns to knives but this one was special.
This one belonged to their dad. It was the first knife that dad trained him with. It was the first one that he killed with….a sort of swamp thing in Louisiana. Most of all, it survived a lot of shit.
It survived passing through numerous hands…his, Sam, their dad, and countless other hunters that hunted with them for a time. Sure, it had it nicks and broken off pieces of wood. But it survived like them.
It took a damn car crash to destroy it.
The blade was still good but the handle was totally destroyed.
It could be fixed but finding a person was a pain in the ass.
Most people had told them that it wasn’t worth the trouble. Just get a new one.
Not happening.
He remembered complaining to Sam about it. His brother just nodded his head.
Few weeks later, the knife was sitting on his bed. It looked brand new and everything.
He didn’t know how Sam fixed it or got it fixed.
Like the little things, he never asked
-SPNSPN-
Until now…
“Dean…” Sam said in a squeaky sort of voice. He looked up from his magazine and frowned. Sam was wrapped in a ton of blankets on his bed and watching some education crap that he wasn’t pay attention. Sam got the flu somewhere in Kansas and he sounded like crap. It didn’t help that it was in the middle of November and it was cold as hell outside.
So, they were holing up in some motel with a decent heater until Sammy is well enough to travel.
“Membe to fix it,” Sam said with a grumble.
He blinked…what? Sam was always acted loopy on cold medicine.
“Fix what?”
“’he make clunky…clunky noise.”
“What?”
“Clunky…clunky noise again. She ‘en doing it,” Sam said like it was the most important thing in the world.
His throat tightened slightly. Finally, he caught on what Sam was saying.
“What is wrong with her?”
“Oil Change…’ake her grumpy without one,” Sam grumbled.
He almost wanted to run outside and check. He was always better making sure that she was alright. Somehow, between Purgatory and here…he forgot to take care of his girl. Perhaps, his baby brother too. Even if he dropped the ball, Sam has picked it up.
“Don’t worry, Sammy. I got it.”
“Not Sammy…Sam!”
He laughed softly.
“I got it.”
He watched his brother nodded his head and curl back into the blankets. While he was so busy with fixing the big things…like the end of world crap. His brother has been fixing the little things and he hasn’t notice.
Now, he has…and he never been so graceful.
End