A/N: Last night I dreamed I baked a wedding cake for one of the Olsen twins and the mascot of my university. This confused me, as my mascot was not an easily identifiable species. When I woke up, I wrote this.
Sad Times and Helpful Brothers
by Deanie McQueen
Dean was sad.
Sam racked his brain, thinking of ways to make Dean happy. He not-so-discreetly turned the TV to porn (Kandy and Krystal in Breast Side Story, specifically, and Sam privately thought Kandy could do with a haircut better suited to her bone structure, and that Krystal could do with better nutrition and a perhaps a seaweed wrap. He worried about such things, and always wished these aspiring actresses the best) and when Dean barely batted a long eyelash, Sam succumbed to brotherly worry and ordered a pizza with far too much meat.
"No, thank you," Dean said politely, and hugged the closest pillow to his middle.
Such politeness worried Sam even more. He made a show of fanning the pizza box near Dean's nose, hoping the smell of cooked cow and pig would entice a smile. "You like pizza," he finally said, frustrated. "Why won't you eat?"
"Because I am sad," Dean said.
This confirmed Sam's fear. Clearly, he would have to step up his game.
He used one of their fraudulent credit cards to buy a Playstation 3 and several violent games he didn't approve of. He frowned at the unnecessary blood and violence and narrowed his eyes at the young mother willing to buy one for her son. Children should not be exposed to pixilated guns, Sam thought.
Dean perked up long enough to kick Sam's ass in Dead Rising 2, but he tossed the controller to the side when Sam suggested a rematch.
"Tired, Sammy," he said, and flopped back down on the bed.
Sam did not approve of this. Sam did not approve of this at all, but he had run out of ideas. He'd just have to hope that this sadness would pass on its own, hopefully in a speedy and quick manner.
The next morning, Sam woke up to a smiling Dean. "What happened?" Sam asked, rubbing at his eyes. "Why are you so happy?"
"Part came in!" Dean shouted, obviously pleased. "Now I can fix my baby up and we can move on out!" He was nearly bouncing on his heels, wrench in hand and rag in his pocket. With a small wave, he rushed out of the room, ready to fix the Impala.
Sam sighed and went back to sleep, glad that he wouldn't have to eat any more pizza.