Dean’s fingers tap the bottom of his plate as his eyes roam over the display of food.
“Bobby’s really outdone himself this year, eh?”
Ellen’s voice startles Dean out of his head and he let’s out a nervous chuckle, “Huh, yeah…”
There wasn’t an empty square of counter in the whole kitchen. Food was everywhere. He knew Thanksgiving was the food holiday, but this… he did not remember this much food last year.
Maybe there was and I just never noticed?
Ellen drops the serving spoon back into the green beans before spinning away from the display to grab some cutlery off the table, “I’m almost out of your way, don’t you worry.”
Dean lets out another half-hearted chuckle, fingers tapping against the bottom of the empty plate that was clutched to his chest more rapidly as he watched her disappear behind the swinging kitchen door.
As soon as it swings closed, he lets out a deflating breath and eyes all the food, game time.
He licks his lips as he lowers the plate from his chest and reaches for the first set of serving utensils. 3 pieces of turkey, 142 calories. He pauses in front of the bird, come on Winchester. You can do better than that.
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Dean paused, hand resting on the knob of the motel door. He hung his head and let out a sigh, “I know.”
“But then… why?”
The confusion in the question got him to turn back around. He hadn’t quite steeled himself against the huge puppy dog eyes his younger brother was beaming at him. He forced himself to take in a breath and walked the few steps back toward the bed, “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“But Dad’s gonna be so mad.” Sammy couldn’t help but twist his fist into the blanket he was clutching to his chest at the thought, his giant eyes not leaving his brother’s face, “If you take the blame…”
“It’ll be okay, Sammy.” Dean forced the corner of his mouth to turn up into a smile as he reached out, ruffling his brother’s hair, “I can take it. Besides, Dad’ll be so tired from work, he probably won’t even notice.”
“But I-” The younger brother cut himself off as the motel door opened.
Dean didn’t miss the way he tried to back himself up, despite already being pressed against the headboard, and stood from the bed, turning his attention to their father.
John took a few shuffled steps into the room – just far enough for the door to swing closed behind him – before he pitched forward, looking ready to collapse into the carpet.
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“Wow,” She let’s out a breathy sigh as she watches the sunset. In the next moment, she’s pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, eyes sparkling with awe as she looks out over the water, “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”
“Not even close.” He can’t help but smile – his eyes have been on her since they sat down. Watching her every move, trying to memorize every curve of her body, and every tangle of still-dripping hair.
He had been with many people in the past, but none of them ever affected him like she did. He’d do anything for her, just for the promise of getting to see that gorgeous smile of hers. Blow off work because she’s sick? He’s dialing while rushing down to the kitchen to make her soup. Go for an impromptu beach trip to watch the sunset? He grabbed a blanket, the keys and her hand before she’d even finished asking.
It was just so… effortless to care about her.
“I love you.”
She blinked in surprise, peeling her eyes off the sun for the first time since they’d got there. Her mouth was open in a little, wordless, oh shape. The oranges and reds of the setting sun were reflecting off her skin, but he could still tell she was blushing.
He found himself suddenly wishing he was smart enough to remember his camera.
He felt his back hit the sand, arms instinctively wrapping around her back in the next moment. There was a sudden flurry of kisses up and down his face and excited squeals as she attacked him.
After not nearly long enough, she propped herself up on her arms, breathlessly smiling down at him, “I love you, too.”
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Sam forced himself to turn his gaze to the floor, off his brother’s face. He knew he wouldn’t understand, that he was sick of dealing with this – hell, Sam was sick of seeing him – but not talking about his hallucination wasn’t working anymore. He had to tell someone he trusted.
And there was no one he trusted more than his brother.
He couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine. He had been standing on the precipice of going off the deep end for months, and he just… couldn’t do it anymore. Not alone.
So yes, even though he knew it hurt, he had to say something.
But he wasn’t prepared for the look on his brother’s face.
It was a look he’d become all too familiar with. The same look he gave him when he left for Stanford, the same one he got when he chose Ruby… that heartbreaking mix of shock, sadness and utter disappointment.
The ‘I don’t even know who you are anymore’ look.
No matter how old he got, or how much shit they’d gone through, that look always managed to whither the giant. It was like he was suddenly five years old again, getting caught stealing the last cookie.
“I…”
Sam closed his eyes, not daring to look up from the floor. The trailed off sigh hit him right in the heart, “D-don’t…” Sam took in a shuddering breath and held up one of his hands, “you don’t need to say anything. I just thought you should know.”
An incredulous chuckle escaped the blonde then, and he heard the rustling of his sweater fabric as he ran a hand through his hair, “Oh gee, you think? Jesus, Sam…”
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Request #17 (From Holister262 [DA]): Can I have a SamxGabriel? Sad Gabe in need of a big, deep cry and hug, but he doesn’t know he needs it. But Sam does, so he finds him and forces a hug/cry session.
Requested: 15.03.08
Originally Started: 15.03.08
Rewrite Started: 24.02.09
Finished: 24.08.06
Words: 533
Sabriel (Implied), Dark-ish, Request #17
Gabriel watched as the coffee cup slipped out of his hands, almost as if in slow motion. The cup shattered once it touched the ground, shards of glass and boiling hot liquid exploding out across the floor. He could do nothing but watch – almost as if frozen to the spot – as the liquid quickly soaked into his socks.
He let out a defeated sigh before scanning the room for the broom. It was nowhere in sight.
Of course.
He felt tears prick at the edges of his eyes as he bent down to start picking up the broken pieces. He didn’t know what his problem was, but he’d been doing dumb stuff like this for the last couple weeks. Locking his keys in his car, burning dinner because he forgot it was in the oven, accidentally wearing his pants inside out, dropping spoons… if he didn’t know any better, he’d think he had been cursed.
Unfortunately, he did know better – he wasn’t cursed in the traditional sense – he’d been bitten by the love bug, and now seemed he was paying the price.
Being human was hard.
How Sam and Dean managed to not only not kill themselves daily, but also actually manage to fight evil and save people? Seemed like an impossible task for the newly initiated to the Human Club.
Most days Gabriel forgot to breathe.
There’s just too many things to remember about being human. Food, defecating, being too hot, being too cold, sleep… it never ends!
“Hey, Ga-”
The sound of Sam’s cut off greeting made the newly ex-angel look up, not bothering to hide the tears that were tracing their way down his face.
Sam blinked slowly for a moment and took a cautious step forward, concern etching itself across his face, “What happened?”
Gabriel let out a loud sniff and held up the bits of broken glass he had gathered, “I dropped another one!”
The giant nodded his head slowly before leaving the room. He reappeared in the doorway holding the broom and a couple towels. He wasted no time inching his way toward his lover, using the towels as stepping stones so he wouldn’t burn his feet. Gabriel watched in absentminded awe, I never would’ve thought of that.
Sam had reached him in the next minute and gently took the broken glass out of his hands, “Here.” He placed them down onto the counter before stretching over, ripping a few paper towels off and offering them to him. At the confused look he was given, Sam nodded to his hands, “You’re bleeding.”
Gabriel looked down, surprised to see red liquid running down his palms, “Oh.” He pressed the paper towels into the wounds, hissing at the contact, “Ow!” Gabriel felt fresh tears prick his eyes and he shook his head, “Why does everything about being human hurt?”
Sam frowned at that before closing the distance, wrapping his lover up in a giant bear hug. He squished his face into his hair, feeling Gabriel’s body collapse into him and tears start to soak into his shirt. Sam pressed a kiss to the top of his head and squeezed him harder, “It just takes time.”
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Peter hesitated as the door creaked open with the force of his knock. He frowned and brought his watch up to his face, he should be home by now.
He waited only another moment before gently pushing the door open wider and peering inside. Neal was one to keep things to himself, of course, but not even he would have enough energy to undertake extra curriculars after that 14-hour stakeout.
Peter walked a few steps into his CI’s loft, brows staying pulled down in puzzlement as he spotted the man sitting at the dining room table, arms stained with charcoal up to the elbows, gently cradling a giant sketchbook.
“Didn’t you hear me knock?” Peter closed the distance quickly, craning his neck around the back of the chair to catch a glimpse of the sketchbook. Peter couldn’t help himself from shaking his head as he spotted the work, it was a portrait of Caffrey’s face, done up in swirls of different blues and purples.
Flawless as far as Peter could tell.
“I thought you didn’t have any original works?” Peter raised an eyebrow as he came around the side of the table, tossing his jacket onto the back of the closest empty chair.
Only then did Neal jump, and attempt to close the sketchbook. His semi-wild eyes found Peter, and once his brain registered what was happening, his shoulders slumped in relief and his hands relaxed. He swallowed hard, eyes moving back to the masterpiece in his hands, “I-It isn’t mine.”
Peter eased himself down onto the corner of the table, being sure to keep his tone careful, “Okay… who’s is it?”
“Kate’s.”
The word hung in the air between them for a long minute.
Peter did his best to keep the surprise he felt off his face. It’d been… what? Two or three years since the plane explosion. He glanced down to his CI – who wasn’t doing as good of a job at blinking back his tears as he thought – and cleared his throat, “How?”
Neal let out an exasperated sigh and gave a half-shrug, slightly lifting the book off the table, thumb tapping the signature and date in the bottom corner, “I was just digging through some of my old sketchbooks, trying to find one I could use and…” He slightly shook his head, fingers subconsciously tightening around the edges of the work, “It’s dated two weeks after I went to prison.”
Peter nodded thoughtfully – despite being out of Caffrey’s eyeline. “Your visitation rights were still getting ironed out, then.” He leaned in, taking a closer look at the art, “She’d called the prison every day at 9am like clockwork. Must’ve finally assumed she wouldn’t get to see you in person.”
Neal’s thumb gently swiped over her signature, eyes roaming over the image, “The yellowing of the page indicates it was left open in the sun.”
“I bet she had it open facing the bed, so you’d be the first thing she saw every morning.” At the look, Peter shrugged, “It’s what I do when El goes out of town.”
Neal turned semi-hopeful eyes back to the masterpiece, “Kate loved the classics.”
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Dean’s yell instinctively made the giant duck, which was the right call as a shotgun blast exploded over the space his head just was.
His wild eyes were scanning the room for his brother before the shrapnel finished falling. He spotted the blonde running toward him from the hallway, brows furrowed with concentration and anger as he hastily refilled his gun.
“Aw, see? Told you he’d come.”
Lucifer’s voice brought the giant’s attention to the back wall once again, brain scrambling to make sense of the monster brains that were splattered across the floor.
Sam straightened up cautiously, “I-it was real?”
Lucifer cocked his head to one side and raised an eyebrow, “You thought I’d sick an imaginary monster on you?”
“Hey!”
His brother’s hand clasping his shoulder made him jump, but he didn’t dare let his eyes off the devil.
If it was real, that means that he… Sam swallowed thickly and started shaking his head, “Y-you can’t be-”
“Are you deaf?” The rough tug on his chin finally got his eyes on his older brother, “We need to go, now!”
Sam opened his mouth to rebuttal, or ask a question – something – but no sound came out. Watching his brother start back toward the door was all the incentive the giant needed to follow suit.
It took all the strength he had not to look back over his shoulder.
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Sam rolled his eyes as he handed the steaks off to his brother, “I’m only 5 minutes late, Dean.”
“Yeah, well, it might as well be an hour,” The blonde shook his head, fiddling with the barbeque dial, “You know how old this thing is. It doesn’t hold heat correctly.”
The giant shook his head, grabbing a beer from the cooler, “Why didn’t one of us get him a new one for his wedding, again?”
“Because Bobby wouldn’t use it.” He kicked the side of the grill, holding one hand above the grill to check the temperature, “Not until this one finally dies.”
The youngest leaned in, peering over his brother’s shoulder at the dark grill, “…You sure it’s not already dead?”
“Don’t think so.” The blonde turned the dial again, practically willing the grill to heat up, “Maybe we could just order steaks.”
Sam scoffed, “How are we supposed to do that without Bobby noticing?”
Dean’s eyes flicked up to where his kids and father figure were playing – chasing each other around one of the junk cars a few feet away. He slapped one of the steaks onto the grill, shoulders deflating in disappointment as it made no noise.
He brought his eyes back to his brother, lowering his voice, “Make the call on the front porch. Don’t let anyone see you.”
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Taylor’s whole face lit up with that, eyes crinkling as a giant smile overtook her, “It was so fun!” She pulled a face and quickly reset against the back of the chair as the movement highlighted her pain, “… until I fell asleep.” She frowned down at her red arms and legs, brows pulling together, “Will I look like this forever?”
“What? No!” Dean couldn’t help but chuckle as he started applying lotion to one of her arms, “You’ll only stay red for a few weeks, then you’ll be back to your normal pale self.”
“Weeks?” She sat up straight, jaw dropping at the information, “B-but… what about school?”
Dean pretended to think as he gave her a once over, “I don’t know, it’s a pretty bad burn…”
“I’ll have to go back looking like this?” At his reluctant nod, she collapsed back against the chair, “Aw, man!”
“It could be worse.”
“How?”
“Well…” Dean switched arms, “if you get a super bad burn, your skin won’t just get all red, it’ll start to peel, too.”
“Peel?” Taylor’s eyes widened in fascination, “Like a snake?”
“Yep.”
“Wow…” She thoughtfully looked down to her arms, tilting her head slightly, “I don’t think I’d look good as a zombie.”
Last night started out like any other: hitting a bar to blow off some steam, chatting up the redhead – nothing out of the ordinary. At least, not until she mentioned something about ‘living a little’ and ordering a round of Jell-O shots.
And then another.
And another.
And another.
Dean didn’t know what the hell the bar used – it tasted like straight gasoline mixed with that obviously fake strawberry flavour – but he got buzzed fast and reached hammered not too long after.
The rest of the night was a nauseating blurry flash of laughs, spilled drinks, a shared cab ride and then some R rated fun.
The blonde had awoke to a dark room, his pants dangling off the ceiling fan and his companion was nowhere in sight. The perfect time to sneak out without having to have that awkward morning-after talk.
The elevator bumped then, causing a new wave of nausea to hit the blonde, oh no… He caught himself with one hand against the wall and instinctively leaned over, don’t barf in the elevator…don’t barf in the elevator…
He barely heard the ding of the doors opening over the sound of his dry-heave.
Ugh.
“Um,” A man’s voice got his watery eyes off the floor. The short man looked as dishevelled as he felt, and flashed a fake polite smile, “Maybe I’ll wait for the next one.”
“No, no,” Dean straightened up and cleared his throat, moving to stand closer to the wall, “I’m not gonna puke.”
The stranger gave him a once over before hesitantly stepping into the car, “You’re lucky I’m too hungover for more stairs.”
Dean chuckled and backed up as the guy leaned over to hit the button, “Rough night?”
“Fun night. The guy I was with…”
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