[Slash] What We Always Are - And So It Is - 03
Title: What We Always Are
Author anyothergirl415
Character(s)/Pairing:
Theme: Theme 06 - 365. And So It Is
Prompt(s): 03. Past
Words: ~980
Rating: R for language
Disclaimer: I wish I controlled what happened but well, let’s be honest, who could really top Kripke?
Summary: They are what they always are, whatever the hell that means.
Warnings/Author Notes: The stories are all linked together in the same verse, I would recommend reading from the first prompt chronologically.
“Alright Sam, we’re gonna go on a ride okay?” The bags were packed, resting beside the door and Dean was somehow resisting the urge to bang his head against a wall.
“Ride?” Sam repeated, perked up and stumbled away from the place he was currently spinning in small circles, head tilted up to the cottage cheese ceiling. “We ride often. Dean. Dean? You make me pure?”
“Uh… sure Sam,” Dean nodded and stepped forward to cup Sam’s elbow. “C’mon now, I’ve got you.”
“Yup yup yuppers,” Sam bounced forward and promptly smacked into the door. “How rude,” he huffed and smacked the door with his palm, shaking his head before backing up and trying again. Once more the door smacked him back and Sam was beginning to get upset.
Dean’s sigh was near the edge of long and suffering, fingers rubbing into his brow with a frustrated irritation that could only belong to someone who’s brother had just lost his fucking mind. “Why me?” He mumbled before adding, “Gotta open the door Sam. Can’t walk through it.”
“Open it?” Sam asked curiously and turned to Dean who seemed much wiser then Sam at this particular moment in time. Which was alright, Sam didn’t mind letting someone else do something. Besides, the curtains across the room were now swaying in the blow of air coming from the machine beneath the window and Sam wanted to join them in their gentle sway.
Dean’s eyes shifted to Sam’s form for a moment before his head dipped in a slight shake and he turned back to pull the door open. Ten minutes later everything was packed up and Dean returned to the room to find Sam pulling at the buttons on his shirt. “Sam? What are you doing?”
“Hot hot hot,” Sam muttered and pulled at the fabric.
“Uh… okay, let’s leave your shirt on and get on the road,” Dean’s lips twitched slightly into a smile as he stepped forward and snagged Sam’s sleeve, tugging him toward the door, moving with his free hand to work at the buttons. “Sam, lift your feet, don’t drag them.”
Sam enjoyed the way the ground rolled along under his boots, the quick little scuff, scuff, scuff but Dean didn’t sound very pleased with him so he lifted his leg high up in the air and stomped it down, repeating the action with each step. “Boom, boom, the giant knocks down all the trees and the little people scream, scream.”
“Oh god,” Dean’s eyes lifted in a roll, features tight with restrained amusement. “Sam, listen to me, does any of what I’m saying make sense to you?”
“Sam, listen to me, does any of what I’m saying make sense to you,” Sam repeated easily, voice taking on an overly dramatic deep tone as he mimicked his brother word for word.
Dean stopped in his steps and watched Sam continue to do his odd stomp forward toward the car, adding stiff arm gestured to make him look a bit like an Egyptian painting in motion. And yeah, he was worried and freaked out and probably in over his head but Jesus Christ that was too fucking funny not to laugh at. Whatever it was affecting Sam didn’t seem to be harmful and Sam was still moving around and talking, albeit a little on the bizarre side.
So it was with a renewed hope that Dean half jogged to catch up to his brother, chuckle still falling from his lips. “You know Sammy, I think we’re gonna make a stop at Walmart. Seems like a good time to finally buy a video camera.” Oh, the blackmail material would be worth Sam doing the laundry, getting the food, and cleaning the car for years.
Sam stopped suddenly in front of the car and pointed at the windshield, covering his eyes with his free hand. “It burns, it burns. Broken, broken, broken.”
Dean’s face fell as he stared at his windshield, swearing low under his breath. The current Sam issue had made him forget about his poor damaged car. “Back inside,” he grumbled and tugged on Sam until his brother stopped pointed and followed him at a half skip.
-=-=-=-
“Sam? Do you remember that summer we tried to catch frogs in the swamp behind our house?” Dean asked quietly, legs folded together in front of him, resting against the pavement. They sat on the curb, watching two men carefully pull the shattered windshield from the car. In a rare stroke of luck Dean had located an antique auto parts store in town that had the appropriate windshield in stock and could install it that morning.
It was going to cost a small fortune but that’s what the credit cards were for.
“We were what we were but we are what we always are,” Sam pointed out and fell against Dean’s side, nuzzling into his neck and stroking fingers through the short hair along the base of his neck. “I am are you?”
“Huh?” Dean muttered, reeling back slightly from the touch. Talk about too much and too close and all those other too things that existed between them. “God you’re like a fucking rubik’s cube. And I really fucking suck at those.”
“My head hurts,” Sam groaned and laid his palm against his temple, rocking forward, sliding down Dean’s shoulder and onto his lap as his body curled together as much as someone of his height could. “The voices. The voices. Too many. Stop, stop, stop.”
That previous panic from before surged up in Dean and he rested a hand low on Sam’s back to rub in small circles, looking up at the men working on his car, silently pleading them to be done already. “It’s okay Sammy, it’s all gonna be okay.”
And Dean sincerely hoped that was true because hilarious or not, something was clearly not right.
These Miles Roll On - And So It Is 04