Not much to say about this story yet other than I'm hoping to combine some of the snarky banter from 'Cutting Humor' with the heavier angst of 'Control'. Oh… and I use the word 'fuck' a lot.
Hope you like it! Let's see how it goes…
Energies and Ice Cream
Dean stood at the edge of the bed staring at his brother with an incredulous look.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked.
"What." Sam had just lied back on his bed, and was starting to get comfortable. "I'm eating an ice cream bar," he responded.
"Yeah, and where the fuck did you get it?"
"Um… when I went out."
"At the store," Sam says dryly.
"So you got yourself an ice cream bar, but nothing for me."
"Um.. if I remember correctly… the conversation went a little like… 'Hey Dean, I'm going to the store. Do you want anything?'… 'Quiet Sammy. There's breasts on television.'"
"And… I took that as a 'no'."
"You really are a dumb ass."
"You should have known I'd want one."
"Sorry, but I'm not fucking psychic," Sam said, his annoyance building. Dean just returned a raised eyebrow stare.
"About shit like that. If you wanted ice cream, you should have said so."
"Sammy. What goes better with breasts, than ice cream?" Dean smiled, slightly amused with himself, slightly warmed by the idea of breasts and ice cream. "In so many words… I did say so."
"Right. Ice cream and breasts go together?"
"How the hell are we related?" Dean shook his head in disgust.
"Here, take mine." Sam held out his ice cream. "Just leave me alone."
"No. You can't buy me off with a half eaten ice cream bar. Fuck you."
"So what do you want from me Dean? You want me to go back out and get you your own freakin' ice cream bar?"
"Chocolate," Dean demanded, and threw himself back onto his own bed, "I refuse to eat that girly strawberry shit you're suckin' on."
"Fuck." Sam sighed, and glanced at the clock. "It's ten after midnight, I don't even know if they're still open."
"Sam, it's a convenience store. If it were closed… it wouldn't be convenient." Sam stood up in defeat, stopping to stare at Dean briefly, waiting for him to change his mind, or say anything along the lines of 'I don't actually expect you to go'. Finally, Dean did say something. "Be careful…" For a quick second Sam was taken aback by his brother's words of caution. Then Dean finished his sentence. "Don't let any of that strawberry shit melt onto the seats!"
Now that that was off his mind, Dean returned his total focus to the breasts. Sam sighed, shoved his melting ice cream bar into his mouth, grabbed the keys, and went out the door.
As Sam walked to the car he pulled the ice cream out of his mouth, scrapping as much off the stick as he could before tossing the rest into the trash. He got into the impala, shoved the key in the ignition, and then, just the sat there.
"What are you doing? You should have told him to fuck off and get his own damn ice cream."
Sam's anger quickly got the better of him. "Fuck!" He yelled at himself squeezing the steering wheel and shaking it. "Go back in there! Tell him he's a jerk and you're sick of his shit." Sam exhaled hard as he glanced up and caught sight of himself in the rearview mirror. Looking straight into his eyes, he began to notice the hurt he felt, and the anger dropped away. He continued to hold his own gaze, and thought to himself. 'You need to stand up to him. You need to tell him what you think instead of holding it in.' Sam turned away from the mirror, disgusted by his lack of strength.
"So go in and tell him," Sam chided himself softly. He stared out at the motel briefly, then moved full into defeat. "Yeah right." Sam started the car, and pulled out of the lot.
As he drove the car along the dimly lit back road, his thoughts continued to churn, and his anger began to return. "Maybe I wanted to watch breasts," he mumbled to himself. "Jerk, why does he always have to be such a jerk?" Sam continued to stew as a single thought entered his mind and exited his lips.
"I wish Dean would regret bossing me around and treating me like crap. I don't care what it takes. I want him to realize, I want him to be sorry." Sam focused on that thought for the rest of the ride. It was a really great thought… in theory.
Sam entered the small convenience store and headed to the deep freezer chest near the front counter. The store was completely empty, even the guy behind the counter seemed to be missing. Sam slid the top of the freezer open and stared down into a mess of assorted ice cream bars. "Damn it," he complained, and began digging through in search of chocolate. 'What the hell am I doing here?' He thought to himself. 'Vanilla… vanilla… Why didn't I just tell him to go fuck himself? Vanilla… I fucking hate him sometimes… vanilla… and I fucking hate vanilla'… "Fuck."
Sam plunged his arm down into the freezer and blindly dug his hand around. 'Come on ya stupid psychic powers, kick the hell in!' He grabbed hold of a random bar at the absolute base of the chest. It was frozen fast to the bottom, but this didn't seem to deter him as he continued to claw and yank at it. Using all of his anger towards Dean, he finally ripped the bar free, pulled it up through the mess of other bars, and triumphantly held it out in front of him scanning the label for… "Mocha?"
Sam continued to stare at it. It was sort of mangled, there was almost a half inch of solid freezer burn coating its exterior, and the wrapper was faded and torn open at the bottom. Sam smiled deviously… "Perfect!"
Sam slammed the freezer door shut, and walked over to the checkout counter. Still no cashier. He waited for a minute, hanging back, looking around the store. It was totally empty. 'I should just leave,' he thought. 'Dean would leave. Dean's the damn reason I'm standing in an empty convenience store at 12:20 at night, with an ice cream bar frozen to my hand.' He sighed and glanced around again. "Where is this guy?"
Sam glanced behind the counter, and finally noticed something useful, a row of security monitors. He shoved the ice cream temporarily into his back pocket, then pushed himself up onto the counter to get a look. If he couldn't see the cashier in one of them, he was out of here. Sam leaned forward and strained his head to the left. He could see most of the monitors, and far as he could tell, he really was the only one in the store. He leaned further forward to get a look at the last one, it was a view of behind the counter. Sam looked into the monitor and saw himself teetering on the edge of the counter.
"I give up," Sam said with an exhausted sigh, and began to slide back down to the floor. As he shifted, he suddenly caught another image on the screen. It wasn't clear, but it looked like there was someone else behind the counter, someone else behind him.
Startled, Sam swung around quickly to find a guy sitting on the floor pointing a gun straight at him. Before he could react in any capacity, the gun abruptly went off.
As always, I really appreciate your reviews, so let me know your thoughts.
But either way, thanks for reading!