[ Sam kind of swore off meat after one too many bloody kills; and besides, it was healthier to keep a mostly vegetarian diet. (#KaleIsLife) Not that his admonishment has any bite to it, of course, because if Dean did serve up a plate of eggs and bacon (like old times), he's pretty sure he'd just scarf the whole plate down. Physical and mental healing takes a lot of energy, and a lot of food when you decide to swear off the other two necessary aspects keeping you present and 'existing' in this world. ]
But actually, eggs do sound really good right about now.
( dean, of course, ignores sam's insistence that he's sworn off bacon (he's heard it a thousand times anyway), mostly because he knows it's half-hearted and because dean is in charge of breakfast and what he makes goes.
he takes another sip of coffee, turning to get a pan ready on the stove. )
Uh huh. Well, looks like we're fresh out of birthday kale, Sammy, so you're getting the next best thing.
( he throws some butter into the pan and lets it melt a little before cracking two eggs into it and tossing a couple slices of bacon in for extra flavor. it doesn't take long for everything to fry (god bless cast iron), so it's only a couple minutes before he's serving sam a smiley face on a plate like when they were kids (only, this time, nothing's burnt like when they were kids). he pats sam's shoulder again. )
Eat up, champ. I'll be right back. I got a surprise for you.
[ There's a gentle eye-roll at the kale comment, even if he has to admit that he kind of misses the taste of it. Or salads. Or just ... anything green. Beacon isn't exactly rife with the kind of vegetation that won't somehow kill them eventually, so his diet's been lacking.
The sound and smell of eggs and bacon is enticing, filling the cabin with warm smells and memories of when Dean used to be in charge of making his meals and Sam only wanted stupid shit like cereal or McDonalds. Sometimes there would be fights over what he could and couldn't eat, but most of the time Sam knows Dean was only doing his best — and at twelve, sometimes that meant overcooked beans and burnt toast.
The plate placed in front of him quirks a smile on his lips, and he picks up his fork to dig in before Dean makes a comment about a surprise. ]
You know I don't like surprises — [ He starts to say, raising his voice when Dean disappears into his room, but he'll stay here anyway, too hungry and too tired to move from his seat.
And now he's got a mix of anticipation and anxiety for whatever Dean's got up his sleeve added to everything else he's feeling now. Can't be bad though, right? It's his birthday, after all ... ]
( oh, it's definitely bad, but in, like, a hilarious kind of way. also, despite how much dean loves making fun of his little brother, he wouldn't go all out without getting him a real present, too, to make up for being an asshole with the biggest joke gift of their nebulous afterlife.
when he returns to the kitchen, he's got something under each of his arms — one significantly larger than the other. )
Alright, Sammy, here you go. You ain't gotta thank me.
( he's already trying to suppress a laugh as he straightens a cardboard cutout of celine dion (bathed in the warm glow of lantern light) next to the kitchen table, eagerly awaiting sam's reaction. )
Oh, no, no — [ Sam practically twists around in his seat with increasing horror as the cardboard cutout (too large to be anything good) comes into view and shows herself in all of her talented, beautiful glory.
His face is slightly flushed with embarrassment, and mostly he's praying that no one in their household sees this before he can stash it away and pretend it never existed. ] Where the hell did you get that?
( he loves you, sam, really. he just has a jackassy way of showing it most of the time. a bark of laughter escapes his throat at the horror on sam's face; the red flush of embarrassment on sam's cheeks is something dean takes a particularly tremendous pride in. hell yeah, mission accomplished.
he shrugs off the question, an obnoxious grin spreading across his face. )
Night Market. They really put out for scraps, you know? ( wait, that came out weirdly sexual. whatever. ) Amazing the kind of shit they can get their hands on. Almost cashed in for the afterlifetime supply of Busty Asian Beauties, but, I, in my infinite wisdom, thought it'd be more appropriate to embarrass you directly.
( yeah, he's fully (full-frontally?) aware sam finds his taste in porn embarrassing. but that's not the point. he's getting there. )
Anyway, got you something else, too. I know you ain't gonna jerk it to Celine, so.
( he sets the other gift on the table, where it lands with a dull thud. it's book-shaped, heavy, and sam will soon uncover what is an extremely exhaustive encylopedia of serial killers. see? dean can be thoughtful when he wants to be, even when he's also insinuating that his brother gets off to serial killers. )
[ There's an audible augh sound that escapes Sam's lips the moment Dean mentions his skin-mag of choice, having seen more than enough of those issues randomly lying around over the years. But that's totally not the point. ]
Dean, what exactly did you have to trade to — [ Sam doesn't have a chance to finish his question when his big brother pulls out another smaller, heavier package and sets it down before him. Curious, Sam reaches forward and slides it closer towards him, scanning the cover for a title. His eyebrows go up, clearly impressed with the find.
Sure, he's going to be ignoring that last comment, because uh — gross. But Sam appreciates the sentiment behind the gift. He idly flips through the pages, eager to dig into it even when none of this is likely to matter for the next ... ever. Maybe.
(It's still fascinating though.) ]
Thanks, Dean. This is — [ For the breakfast, for the gifts (dumb prank ones and all), for making this as normal as possible despite the fact that this was anything but normal for them. Sam would have sooner forgotten what day it was if he could, but he's quietly grateful Dean pulled this all together anyway. That he'd thought about it. Even traded whatever he did for it. ] — thanks.
[ There's a pause before Sam clears his throat, slightly awkward (because what are emotional moments, really), and closes the book shut. ]
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Date: 2020-05-03 10:30 pm (UTC)[ Sam kind of swore off meat after one too many bloody kills; and besides, it was healthier to keep a mostly vegetarian diet. (#KaleIsLife) Not that his admonishment has any bite to it, of course, because if Dean did serve up a plate of eggs and bacon (like old times), he's pretty sure he'd just scarf the whole plate down. Physical and mental healing takes a lot of energy, and a lot of food when you decide to swear off the other two necessary aspects keeping you present and 'existing' in this world. ]
But actually, eggs do sound really good right about now.
no subject
Date: 2020-05-09 07:48 pm (UTC)he takes another sip of coffee, turning to get a pan ready on the stove. )
Uh huh. Well, looks like we're fresh out of birthday kale, Sammy, so you're getting the next best thing.
( he throws some butter into the pan and lets it melt a little before cracking two eggs into it and tossing a couple slices of bacon in for extra flavor. it doesn't take long for everything to fry (god bless cast iron), so it's only a couple minutes before he's serving sam a smiley face on a plate like when they were kids (only, this time, nothing's burnt like when they were kids). he pats sam's shoulder again. )
Eat up, champ. I'll be right back. I got a surprise for you.
( brb he's gotta go get ur bday presents )
no subject
Date: 2020-05-24 03:09 am (UTC)The sound and smell of eggs and bacon is enticing, filling the cabin with warm smells and memories of when Dean used to be in charge of making his meals and Sam only wanted stupid shit like cereal or McDonalds. Sometimes there would be fights over what he could and couldn't eat, but most of the time Sam knows Dean was only doing his best — and at twelve, sometimes that meant overcooked beans and burnt toast.
The plate placed in front of him quirks a smile on his lips, and he picks up his fork to dig in before Dean makes a comment about a surprise. ]
You know I don't like surprises — [ He starts to say, raising his voice when Dean disappears into his room, but he'll stay here anyway, too hungry and too tired to move from his seat.
And now he's got a mix of anticipation and anxiety for whatever Dean's got up his sleeve added to everything else he's feeling now. Can't be bad though, right? It's his birthday, after all ... ]
no subject
Date: 2020-05-30 05:29 am (UTC)when he returns to the kitchen, he's got something under each of his arms — one significantly larger than the other. )
Alright, Sammy, here you go. You ain't gotta thank me.
( he's already trying to suppress a laugh as he straightens a cardboard cutout of celine dion (bathed in the warm glow of lantern light) next to the kitchen table, eagerly awaiting sam's reaction. )
no subject
Date: 2020-08-08 04:29 am (UTC)His face is slightly flushed with embarrassment, and mostly he's praying that no one in their household sees this before he can stash it away and pretend it never existed. ] Where the hell did you get that?
[ Dean, you're an asshole. ]
no subject
Date: 2020-08-09 03:40 am (UTC)he shrugs off the question, an obnoxious grin spreading across his face. )
Night Market. They really put out for scraps, you know? ( wait, that came out weirdly sexual. whatever. ) Amazing the kind of shit they can get their hands on. Almost cashed in for the afterlifetime supply of Busty Asian Beauties, but, I, in my infinite wisdom, thought it'd be more appropriate to embarrass you directly.
( yeah, he's fully (full-frontally?) aware sam finds his taste in porn embarrassing. but that's not the point. he's getting there. )
Anyway, got you something else, too. I know you ain't gonna jerk it to Celine, so.
( he sets the other gift on the table, where it lands with a dull thud. it's book-shaped, heavy, and sam will soon uncover what is an extremely exhaustive encylopedia of serial killers. see? dean can be thoughtful when he wants to be, even when he's also insinuating that his brother gets off to serial killers. )
no subject
Date: 2020-08-09 05:03 am (UTC)Dean, what exactly did you have to trade to — [ Sam doesn't have a chance to finish his question when his big brother pulls out another smaller, heavier package and sets it down before him. Curious, Sam reaches forward and slides it closer towards him, scanning the cover for a title. His eyebrows go up, clearly impressed with the find.
Sure, he's going to be ignoring that last comment, because uh — gross. But Sam appreciates the sentiment behind the gift. He idly flips through the pages, eager to dig into it even when none of this is likely to matter for the next ... ever. Maybe.
(It's still fascinating though.) ]
Thanks, Dean. This is — [ For the breakfast, for the gifts (dumb prank ones and all), for making this as normal as possible despite the fact that this was anything but normal for them. Sam would have sooner forgotten what day it was if he could, but he's quietly grateful Dean pulled this all together anyway. That he'd thought about it. Even traded whatever he did for it. ] — thanks.
[ There's a pause before Sam clears his throat, slightly awkward (because what are emotional moments, really), and closes the book shut. ]
No parties or anything though, all right?