winchesters

ficbit: Respite (2) [spn]

Sam would take the kayak out, but can’t manage to fold his legs so they fit into the molded plastic cockpit. So he drags Dean out of bed early, while the lake is still in shadow, and they paddle the canoe along the shore, picking small sweet blueberries from the overhanging bushes, almost getting stuck when they try to investigate one of the waterlily-filled coves. Going back they have to fight the wind, which slows them enough for Dean to start going pink and freckly in the morning sun, so he rolls himself overboard just before they arrive back at shore, nearly capsizing the canoe and leaving Sam frantically backpaddling to avoid running aground on submerged boulders.

“Pancakes,” Dean announces when he emerges dripping from the lake. “With sausage and bacon and home fries. Man can’t live off berries along, Sam. Don’t talk crap to me about American Indians or whatever.” He runs a hand through his hair, spiking it up like when he was 26 and merely Sam’s big brother. For a moment it’s like time has rolled backward a decade or more, except when Sam looks at him and thinks *how could I ever live without you?* it’s with the bone-deep knowledge that he couldn’t.

“What? Is there something in my hair?” Dean demands, and Sam realizes he’s been staring, covers it up with the lie, “A very fetching lily pad,” and five minutes later he’s covered in mud and trying to prevent Dean from grinding lakeweed into his hair—finds himself nearly laughing for joy at the same thought.

Posts from This Journal by “supernatural” Tag

(Anonymous)
happy sigh

sounds as if you had a good vacation!