The boys on a plane; that's right, a plane. Dean is not happy about this.
Disclaimer: I don't own the boys, I wouldn't have to write cruel stories about them if I did.
"… trust I seek and I f-find in you, everyday for us s-something new …"
Knuckles white around the armrest, eyes tightly shut, Dean hummed breathlessly; feeling, rather than seeing Sam's sympathetic but amused glances toward him.
"… open m-mind for a different view an' nothing else matters …"
He'd ignored the stewardess when she came by offering fish or beef; whatever he'd chosen would only have ended up in the sick bag, so best go without.
"never cared for the things they saa… AAAM - wha's that?"
A loud grinding clunk jerked through the plane.
"Only the landing gear bro', we're almost there."