milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Sammy was right, Dean really needed to get out. He is especially glad he decided to get out when he nails another one of the bunnies with his Winchester shotgun. What can he say, it's a guy thing.

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"Real helpful."

"You never know."

"What's with you?" he asks. "You're all emo today."

"There's nothing with me."

"There's something wrong with me?"

"Did I say that?"

"You seemed to imply it."

"Not that I knew."

Sam shrugs again.

"Sorry."

"No really, Sam, what's with you? You okay?"

"I'm fine, Dean. Really."

"You need to work on your lying, Sammy." He loads new shells into the shotgun.

"Who said I was lying?"

"You're not acting like you," he says matter-of-factly.

"Who'm I acting like, then?"

"I don't know, but I don't like this new person."

He raises his eyebrows. It's definitely a question, albeit unspoken.

"You're acting like you're mad at me, or have a problem. So if you do, just say it already and stop being a chick."

Look, he's conceding!

Landmark occasion.

"I just ..."

He sighs, scowls at the ground. "I think whatever got to you's finally getting to me."

"Sick of sitting around her doing absolutely nothing?"

"Sick of just being here, stuck."

Traveling's in his blood. He just doesn't know it.

"Welcome to the club, Sammy."

He loads two more shells and closes the gun, taking aim and waiting.

"Only if I get a badge."

"All the badges are sitting in my car."

"Damn." Sam snaps his fingers.

"You'll just have to wait until we get out of he--" He stops talking, firing at a demonic bunny that has just leapt out.