Hi, all! I freaked loved this week's episode so much that I wrote not only one, but two drabbles for it-both 100 words each. Who couldn't love pretty boys with babys, two Deans, two Sams, kick-ass new monsters and shadiness abounds! I don't like how Sam seems so dark and bad, so I wanted to redeem him a little with these companion drabbles. Please let me know what you think!
Sam wouldn't hold the baby. He'd barely looked at him.
Dean patted Bobby-John's bottom and tried to hand him off. "Here."
Sam's shoulders tightened. "No."
It was delivered without the post-hell coldness, but rough with desolation.
"He won't break, Lenny. C'mon! My arms are dead."
Sam buried his nose into the police reports, blocking him out. Dean hated not knowing how to read this version of brother. Sammy 2.0 was detached, lethal and mechanical.
"Sammy, why not?"
Emotion bled through the expressionless mask Sam always wore now. "Babies are special, pure."
Sam's gaze loaded with misery. "And I'm not."
Bobby-John fussed for hours. Dean finally abandoned him on the rough bedspread to shower.
Bobby-John pushed up, whined, and scooted about. Sam darted forward when the baby wobbled near the bed's edge. "Back up, kid," he gruffed.
The baby offered him a toothless, enthusiastic grin. Bobby-John wasn't scared of him, didn't see the scars of what he'd endured. He was just entranced by Sam's belt-buckle.
Sam chanced scooping him up, expecting screams, but getting giggles. Forgotten humanity felt a little closer as Bobby-John played in his lap.
Dean smiled, snagged a magazine and closed the door.