Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.

Sam gets an insight into his relationship with his brother. Set Sunday 15 March 2015 (Mothering Sunday in the UK. Mother's Day in the US is in May). Set season 10.

Mothering Sunday, Hunter Style

"Hey Sammy, whatcha up to?" called Dean, running his hand through sleep-mussed hair. He was surprised to find his, normally late-sleeping, brother awake so early.

"Oh, you know that case in West Virginia - er, Grafton, I think it was - we were going to look into next week?" said Sam, not bothering to look around as he squinted to make out the text against the harsh light of his laptop. "I'm working on the translation for that old prophecy we found."

Dean sighed, but it was more a tone of affection than irritation. "It's Sunday. We've had a tough time of it recently and even hunters deserve the occasional day of rest, dude. Besides, you don't wanna spend too long sitting all hunched over like that; it's bad for your back." He paused in considered thought for a moment before continuing. "Anyway, I thought you were gonna ask that British librarian guy you met online to help with that?

"Wesley? Yeah, but it turns out that it's a special day over there-"

"Boy, he's one odd fella, though," Dean interrupted. "Maybe email instead of Skype him next time? It always feels like he's watching me like I'm some kinda bug under a microscope," he added with an exaggerated shudder.

"Well, he is a demonologist and you were... you know," gestured Sam awkwardly. "But, I guess he is a little... intense."

Dean snorted. "Bet you twenty bucks the guy's never made it on his own and still lives with his mom... and he's what, in his early 30s? What a freak!"

Sam coughed and pushed his bangs behind his ears, feeling a sudden bout of extreme embarrassment as if he'd been placed under a spotlight.

Dean narrowed his eyes, detecting that something was wrong. He held an open palm up against Sam's forehead. "Hmm, you seem a little warm. You're not coming down with something, are you?" He raised an eyebrow, but appeared otherwise unperturbed when Sam shrugged him away with a muttered denial.

"Okay, so I'm gonna hit the shower, why don't you go out and get some fresh air or something?" Dean instructed as he disappeared into the motel room's tiny bathroom.

Sam sat for a moment and smiled, before gathering his wallet and keys. He decided he would definitely try to get Dean an apple pie from the 24-hour store on the corner. It might be being celebrated on a different date and in another country, but the sentiment's the same, he mused.

Besides, if I bought it on May 10, Dean would probably kick my ass.

(;,;)