what is and should never be (mary)
Jun 19, 2013 21:29:16 GMT -5
Post by klada on Jun 19, 2013 21:29:16 GMT -5
Sam practically threw the pie at Dean's lap when he got back from the grocery store for a short supply run for the night. Mary had insisted on getting a nice hotel room for once, and Sam and Dean had caved. Of course, it wasn't like the fridge came stocked with food, and Sam had lost rock paper scissors and therefore had to buy the pie and the food, although that was if you could call a couple of hamburgers food. But the two Winchester boys didn't have very refined taste buds, after all.
"Yes, its pie, it isn't cake," He grumbled when he saw Dean open his mouth.
He wasn't entirely sure how he was supposed to explain his entire, tragic life story to his mother who had been dead until recently over hamburgers and gas station pie. Besides, there was several aspects of it all that he was nervous to talk about in front of his brother, concerning his father, and he didn't want to bring up the demon blood addiction and the apocalypse. To be frank, it was embarrassing and Sam felt like a child, with butterflies in his stomach, desperate to impress a parent that he didn't need to impress. But all he had was a horrible drawing of a dog and a house that didn't look like what they were supposed to look like.
Sam fished his food out of the plastic bag before handing it to Mary and sitting down on the bed he had claimed as his own. Discreetly, he allowed himself a moment to run his fingers over the cotton sheets and marvel in the fact, that for once, the sheets didn't feel like the back of a porcupine and there wasn't any mystery stains that made him want to flip the sheets over.
After taking another moment to open his burger as delicately as possible,(which Dean hadn't tried to do at all) he finally figured he might as well break into the conversation.
"Where are we supposed to start?"
"Yes, its pie, it isn't cake," He grumbled when he saw Dean open his mouth.
He wasn't entirely sure how he was supposed to explain his entire, tragic life story to his mother who had been dead until recently over hamburgers and gas station pie. Besides, there was several aspects of it all that he was nervous to talk about in front of his brother, concerning his father, and he didn't want to bring up the demon blood addiction and the apocalypse. To be frank, it was embarrassing and Sam felt like a child, with butterflies in his stomach, desperate to impress a parent that he didn't need to impress. But all he had was a horrible drawing of a dog and a house that didn't look like what they were supposed to look like.
Sam fished his food out of the plastic bag before handing it to Mary and sitting down on the bed he had claimed as his own. Discreetly, he allowed himself a moment to run his fingers over the cotton sheets and marvel in the fact, that for once, the sheets didn't feel like the back of a porcupine and there wasn't any mystery stains that made him want to flip the sheets over.
After taking another moment to open his burger as delicately as possible,(which Dean hadn't tried to do at all) he finally figured he might as well break into the conversation.
"Where are we supposed to start?"