Chapter 2 – The Pie, it Calls to Me.

Author's Note: My apologies for this chapter being so late. Somehow I lost my muse and didn't get it back until this came to me one night, thanks to Dean yelling "and bring me some PIE!" in All Hell Breaks Loose part 1

It sat there, on the dresser plain as day and bold as brass, mocking him. Mocking him in all it's apple glory. He wanted it, oh how he wanted it. It didn't matter that it was only painted ceramic; it looked oh-so-deliciously real and he wanted it so badly he was all but drooling over it.

"Dude, if you stare at that stupid ceramic pie any harder your eyes will fall out." Sam slammed the door to the motel room shut and glared around in distaste before setting the bag containing their lunch on the table.

"I can't help it. Did you bring me some pie?" Dean rasped hopefully, tearing his eyes away from the fake pie that sat so mockingly on the dresser and heaving himself up weakly to lean against the headboard.

"No, I got you chicken broth and ice cream. You can't eat pie right now and you know it. Even if you could swallow it you'd never keep it down," Sam replied as he bustled around, setting the kettle on to boil for tea and gathering Dean's medications.

Dean just groaned and sank down a bit on the bed. Stupid tonsils. After three weeks with a sore throat it had gotten so bad Sam had dragged him to a clinic to see a doctor. It had turned into a doctor's visit where he'd been diagnosed with a throat infection and tonsillitis, and had resulted in surgery to remove his grossly swollen and inflamed tonsils. Now, he was stuck in bed in a hotel room where he was being taunted by a ceramic pie, unable to eat anything besides soup, tea, jell-o and ice cream, and even those hurt.

" Stupid tonsils, stupid throat infection, STUPID TONSILS!" Dean exclaimed, his weak voice rising to a squeak that passed for shouting currently, sending shards of pain down his abused throat. His muscles seized up and sent him into a round of coughing that had Sam at his side in seconds, easing him forward and rubbing his back, then pressing a glass of water on him.

"Thanks," Dean whispered as soon as he could, sagging back into the pillows.

"Here, eat your soup and then you can have the ice cream. It's cherry cheesecake," Sam replied, crossing the room and returning with a cup of soup and a spoon. Dean took it with a grimace and sent a glare towards the ceramic pie on the dresser.

"Wanted Mint Chocolate Chip," he groused as he dipped his spoon into the soup.

Sam Snorted. "Yeah, well it has chocolate chunks in it. I doubt you want to try eating those."

The torture had started when they'd found themselves in a small town with only one motel. They'd considered themselves lucky; the place was reasonably priced, clean and well maintained, with free internet and a continental breakfast that was home cooked by the little old lady that ran the place. She'd even given them a discount when she'd found out they were stuck there until Dean was well enough to travel to Bobby's for the rest period that had been a condition of him signing out AMA the day after his surgery.

Their luck had stopped right about there, at least as far as Dean was concerned. The little old lady had promised them the room was "the best. My favourite. I decorated it myself, and you boys will love it."

When they had entered Dean had all but died and gone to heaven. Everything was pie. The walls were a creamy tan, just the colour of the perfect pie crust, with a border along the ceiling of pies sitting on a windowsill. The bedspreads were the exact red of cherry pie filling, with the same creamy tan pie-crust colour trim, and on the walls hung pictures of pies of all the flavours imaginable. The plates in the kitchenette were all painted like pies, and on the dresser was the most beautiful and delicious looking ceramic apple pie Dean had ever seen in his life.

Now though, Dean was in his own personal hell on earth. Pie, pie, everywhere, and he couldn't eat a piece. He could barely keep down the soup and ice cream and tea Sam fed him regularly, never mind pie. Between his more-than-tender throat and the damn antibiotics that made him sick to his stomach, food was pure torture.

And that damn perfect looking ceramic pie was driving him slowly mad.

Taking the food Dean sipped at it slowly, letting the hot liquid soothe his throat. When he was done he handed the empty bowl back to Sam and accepted the tea, sipping at it the same as he had his soup, then the ice cream, which he'd quickly figured out was a perfect counterpoint to the hot tea and soup.

The entire time he didn't take his eyes off the ceramic pie. He had to have pie. If he didn't have pie, he'd go insane. Or he could just smash the stupid thing and be done with it, only that wouldn't help. For one he didn't have the strength to get out of bed even if he wanted to, and for two he'd probably have to pay for damages if he did that. Even if it was taunting him.

"Dean, stop staring at the bloody pie and go to sleep."

Grumbling at his brother and coughing again, Dean slurped the last of his tea, handed off the mug and let Sam settle him under the covers. As his eyes slipped closed he smiled. If he couldn't actually eat pie maybe he'd dream about it.

~* ~~ ~*~ ~~ *~

When the end of the week of bed rest rolled around Dean hummed happily to himself, stepping gingerly around the shattered pieces of ceramic lying on the carpet and settling a fifty dollar bill under a shard of crust on the dresser, to pay for damages. Pulling on his coat he sank back down on the bed. Damn, he'd used up all his energy just with that little bit of movement.

The door opening and the quiet curse alerted him to Sam returning. "I can't believe you did it Dean. You know this isn't going to get you pie, right?"

"Yup, I know. But I feel better now," Dean whispered in reply. Sam just sighed and stepped around the pie, hauled him up and helped him out to the car, settling him in the passenger seat with the old army blanket wrapped around him.

Just as Sam was climbing into the driver's seat the motel owner came bustling out of her office, a box in her hand. "Oh, I caught you boys! Here, a gift for the road. You seemed to enjoy that room so much I thought I'd give you something to remember your stay by."

Handing the box through Sam's window she watched as the box was handed to Dean, who curiously opened it. If it wasn't for years of experience hiding his real reactions from people he might have cried in horror.

Inside the box sat a perfect, delicious looking ceramic apple pie.