“Where the hell’s your brother?”
“Supply run,” he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and stretched, “Did you forget something?”
“Forget something? Dean, I’ve been gone four days.”
“What?” He was definitely awake now.
Bobby flicked the light on, making Dean shield his eyes from the light, “I came back from the hunt to see the door unlocked, the Impala gone, you snoring on the couch and a lack of your mammoth of a brother.”
Fuck, he struggled to his feet, “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“I got back yesterday, figured he was out on a supply run and waited to see if he’d come back. Gave the kid fifteen minutes from when I got in, when he didn’t show? I’ve been trying to wake you since.”
He is so dead. He started toward the door.
“Do you know where he went?”
“No, but I’ll start with the store and work my way up,” he reached into his pocket for the keys.
Fuck, I let him take the car! He banged a fist against the wall, “Can we take your truck?”
Bobby nodded, catching up to Dean, before running out the door. They climbed into his truck – needing to physically pull Dean half way into it first, which shaved off another couple minutes of catch-up time – before speeding off toward the store.
“C’mon Sam, I know you want to vent. Who better to listen than me?” Lucifer stretched his feet up onto the dash as they sped down the road, the youngest Winchester looking ready to explode, his grip on the steering wheel getting increasingly tighter.
“Leave me alone.” Sam pushed the palm of his left hand as hard as he could into the wheel.
Why can’t I just get some time to myself? Usually, Lucifer disappeared after a few minutes or he just hung around in the background, not really talking. But lately things had started to change – Sam would walk into a room to find him waiting there, actively trying to get him to respond, he seemed more in tune with the situation and would interject whenever there was a pause, and, perhaps the most annoying – the scar on his hand was pretty much useless.
“Don’t be mean, Sammy, I’m only trying to help.”
“I don’t want your help.”
“Oh c’mon,” Lucifer bumped his arm, “Tell me what’s bothering you about Big Bro.”
“It’s just-” he huffed, knuckles going white around the steering wheel, “He’s acting like I’m five. Like I can’t take care of myself. All the shit we’ve been through? And he just assumes I’m not able to handle this. I mean,” he pulled into the parking lot, “No offence but seeing you isn’t exactly the worst thing that’s happened to one of us, y’know?”
Lucifer nodded, “He has gotten more… controlling lately.”
“I know,” Sam got out of the car and made his way toward the entrance of the store, “I think it might be tied to losing Cas, but still…” he picked up a basket as they entered, pausing as Lucifer hopped into one of the carts, “… what’re you doing?”
“I’ve never rode in one before.”
Sam shook his head, replacing the basket, before making his way over to the cart, “You know they don’t go very fast, right? If you think riding in a car is slow – this’ll be ten times worse.”
Lucifer waved a dismissive hand at him before pointing to the doors, “Onward!”
Sam complied, making his way into the store pushing the cart, unable to ignore the thousand-watt smile the devil gave him.
“Don’t forget the pie, Sam.”
“I’m not gonna forget the pie,” he mentally cursed himself as a lady gave him a quizzical look as they passed, shit.
“What?” Lucifer turned to look at the lady, before turning back to the hunter, confused, “What’s wrong?”
Nothing, he turned down the produce aisle, throwing things into the cart occasionally.
“Ooohhh,” Lucifer nodded, “You don’t want to look crazy, got it.”
They turned down another aisle, Sam moving through it quickly, trying to find pie.
Sam stopped abruptly, glad the aisle was empty, “What the hell?”
Lucifer picked a box of Pop-Tarts up off the shelf, holding them out to show the hunter, “Can we get these?”
Sams’ brows furrowed in confusion, “Since when do angels need to eat? And since when do you like Pop-Tarts?”
Lucifer pet the box, “These are the best thing your kind has invented.”
“…Sure,” Sam held back his chuckle as the devil reached for another box, cradling both against his chest.
They continued shopping in silence for a while, before Sam doubled back on some of the aisles, scanning the signs above with frustration, “Where the hell is the pie?”
Lucifer pointed toward the back of the store, “Probably where it says Bakery?”
He stopped dumbfounded before shaking his head, of course, starting toward the back of the store.
He ducked as he heard a gunshot, before turning to the front of the store, eyes widening as he saw another him, “What the hell?”
“This is a robbery!” Clone-Sam yelled, firing two more shots into the ceiling, “Everybody down!” He made his way over to the cash, shooting some of the people in line, before throwing the cashier a bag, “Money, in!”
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