content: When Dean voices a special request at his favorite pizza place, he doesn’t expect the outcome.
word count: 2910
“What do you wanna eat?”
“I dunno …”
“Oh c'mon, Dean! Stop being a sulky shit!”
Sam pouts like a toddler, eyeing his brother reproachfully. And Dean can’t help but return it because, yeah, he may be a little moody and even a bit of a handful for the last four weeks, but obviously Sam ran out of sympathy somewhere along the way. Admittedly, he didn’t have much of it to begin with – always teasing and making stupid jokes –, however, sometimes he played the devoted caretaker and pitied Dean like he’s actually supposed to do.
Since Dean’s current situation is absolutely crappy and he deserves all the compassion he can get, dammit!
“So I’m not allowed to be in a bad mood?” Dean snarls. “I’m trapped in this house for weeks, man. And I’m so fucking sick of it! I want to go out, have some fun, meet new people.”
Sam sighs. “I know, Dean. I get that it sucks. But it won’t be for long.”
Dean rolls his eyes because that doesn’t make it any better. His right foot is still in a freaking cast and still hurting like hell and he can’t even imagine that it’d ever be better at some point.
And only because he missed a step on the stairs and lost his balance.
Just one fucking second and everything changed.