I own nothing. No Sam, Dean or Impala. I just borrow them now and then.
Thanks to everyone who has read, favoured and reviewed my past stories.
Waiting On A Sasquatch. (Takes place towards the end of season six.)
Dean hated waiting, perhaps because waiting usually entailed the arrival of something painful or life threatening, like a pissed ghost, an out for blood in the very literal sense vampire, or some weird claw-appendaged beast.
This time however terror had no part in it.
Sam had simply gone for jeans, three pairs to be exact; as yesterday after their last hunt, his gangly brother's last pair had been ripped to shreds and he had been reduced to wearing an old pair of Dean's.
He had had to stifle a laugh when his over-large little brother had exited the bathroom, with the afore-said jeans ending half-way up his calves.
"Wow, Sammy. Anticipating next year's fashion are we, the "half-mast" look?"
"Shut up Dean, if I hadn't been busy saving your ass I wouldn't have ruined my last pair," Sam bitched, unamused.
"Thanks, Sammy. It's nice to know that you put my well-being right up there with your jeans."
The unexpected weight of a pillow had caught him right in the face as Sam had sent the high–speed projectile at him, taking Dean completely by surprise. His brother was usually the one to try and soothe-over fights not start them, but Dean was up for the challenge.
"I lend you one of my last pairs of jeans to cover your maidenly embarrassments and this is what I get in return, a pillow to the face. You have just declared war, my brother," Dean had announced solemnly, as he had picked up his own "weapon" and proceeded to give his uppity little brother the lesson he deserved.
It had ended up with Dean straddling his prey on the creaky motel bed, as it bravely endeavoured to support the weight of the two tall men while they playfully wrestled on it.
"Do you surrender to my superior force, Sammy?" Dean panted, as he struggled to hold down his brother, but the sight of Dean brandishing his pillow over him like Excalibur had already reduced Sam to manly giggles; any energy he had left to fight off his brother had dissipated into thin air, and he could do nothing else but break into all-out laughter.
"You win, Dean, " Sam stuttered through his chortles.
"You bet," Dean preened as he took his weight off him.
"Let this be a lesson to you, Sammy-boy! Big brothers always win and they deserve continuous respect," he finished off, grinning wickedly as he watched his brother holding his stomach, trying to staunch the laughing fit that had taken hold of him.
Dean had experienced a warm feeling in his heart at the sight of his little brother's unbridled laughter, all the more precious because of its rarity. Sam had had terrible things done to him, Azazel, Ruby, Lucifer, the Cage, yet Dean had managed by his silliness to make him laugh.
He felt good. It was his job to look out for Sammy.
Yeah, his father had repeated the words to infinity but Dean knew that even if John had never uttered them once, he would still have done everything in his power to watch over and tend to his little brother.
Dean's own life had been if not Hell, then Purgatory since he was four years old and baby Sammy had been the only shining light in that dark world, just as his Sasquatch Sammy still was in the current one.
He felt a rush of protectiveness wash over him. If anyone hurt Sammy, they would never escape the vengeance that Dean would take out on them, be they human, demon, angel, monster or God himself.
He roused himself from his meanderings as he heard the familiar squeak of the passenger door opening but he must still have had a phased out look about him for Sam glanced over at him concernedly.
"You okay, man?" he asked as he studied his sibling.
"I'm fine, Sammy," Dean answered, his expressive face hastily taking on a bewildered look. "Why would you say that?"
"I dunno, you just had this weird, zoned out expression on your face," Sam answered uncertainly.
"I'm fine, dumb ass. There isn't really much else to do but think while waiting for hours on a prissy Sasquatch to pick out some jeans," he snarked, successfully glossing over the thoughtful expression that Sam had effectively seen.
"Yeah! Well you know I always have trouble finding them long enough in the leg. I had to sift through dozens of them before finding the right ones," Sam answered almost apologetically, knowing how Dean hated waiting.
His "You could have come in with me," only elicited a scathing glance from his brother, causing Sam to roll his eyes at the disgusted expression on Dean's face.
"Right, well. I got you a pair too, seeing I was there anyway," he added throwing his purchases on to the back seat.
"Thanks Sammy" Dean acknowledged as he glanced over at his brother, his meaning going much deeper than simple gratitude for the jeans.
Sam just stared back flummoxed, sensing that Dean was expressing much more behind the two simple words that had passed his lips, but not knowing exactly how to interpret it.
Dean just smiled, more enigmatically than the Mona Lisa herself, and drove the Impala out of the parking lot.
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