The “Better Place” Pt: 2
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
No matter how many times he said sorry or oops it wouldn’t change the fact that Dean had accidentally-on-purpose thrown out three consecutive fruit smoothies to make room for beer.
Sam was very, very done.
With the practiced silence of a trained killer, Sam reached over Dean’s sleeping form and into the cooler, grabbed his six-pack of beer and pulled it over the divider into the back seat.
Sam ever so slowly pulled the tabs of each of the aluminum cans and listened to the slow hiss of the carbonation. This was going to be the start of a very long and ugly prank war.
Deep Purple’s Smoke on the Water reverberated from the inside of Dean’s coat pocket and Sam relaxed into a sleeping position while his brother fumbled in his jacket.
“Mmmm…’ello?” The older Winchester grumbled. Sam recognized the chipper tone and Minnesotan accent almost immediately.
“Hey, Donna!” Sam whispered. Dean waved a hand in front of his brother’s face to keep him quiet.
“Mmmmhmm gotcha, Alexandria.” Dean nodded and then as Donna continued he suddenly went rigid. Sam noticed the change immediately and sat up as Dean pressed his ear tightly to the phone. “We’ll be right there.”
“What is it?”
“We’re going to Minnesota.”
“Yeah, I figured when I heard Donna on the phone, what’s she got?”
“Something is taking kids up there in three different counties. She’s got a couple of other hunters helping her for now, but it’s too big of an area for just them to cover.”
“So who else is there with her?” Sam pressed his brother further. It was clear that Dean was dancing around the question, he paused awkwardly.
“Y/N.” Her name stuttered out of his mouth and Dean tried to cover it, “It makes sense, she’s from the area, it’s only natural that Donna would call her first.”
“Wow.” Sam was at a loss for words, it had been at least five years since they had seen Y/N; to Dean, It felt like longer. Probably because he couldn’t tolerate hearing her name, much less the idea of running into her on a hunt.
Sam never did find out what happened. All he knew was that Dean had been on a streak of single women, single malt, and that the topic of Y/N was completely off limits.
“Dean?” Sam ventured, tentatively.
“Mmmm?” Dean’s jaw was clenched. Even though Sam could tell Dean was trying his best to seem unbothered by the situation, his brother wasn’t mentally with him in the Impala just now.
“Dean…I know this isn’t something that-”
“No.” Came the stern reply.
“Look, you can’t do this every time something’s eating at you. I know you and Y/N-”
“Sam,” this time his tone carried the threat of action, “don’t. Just don’t.” The younger Winchester watched his brother take a deep breath, his knuckles clenched and unclenched around the thin Chevy steering wheel, and Dean released a long breath.
“Sam…I know we talk, I know what you’re trying to do. I’m not saying never, but just not now. Okay? Just not now, please?”
Sam had never heard his brother concede to the idea that he needed to talk without blowing it off completely and reaching for the nearest thing bearing a warning from the surgeon general. This was a step in the right direction; he could live with that.