'Think you can fix these up? ' Dean laid the pair of red and white sneakers down on the counter of the shoe repair shop. 'I've told my brother to trash them, but he's got an unhealthy attachment to these shoes.'
'Huh,' the proprietor replied, picking up one of the scuffed, worn sneakers, tutting at the sight of the soles hanging on to the uppers by a thread. 'I'm guessing they're a souvenir of his teen years.'
'Kind of,' Dean grinned 'He had an incident wearing them that sticks in his memory. Not that he uses them much now but when he's brooding he likes to slip them on. Kinda like an old teddy bear.
'Guess your brother broods a lot, going by the state of the shoes. You're the Campbell brothers, that right? Dean…Sam? Seen you about town. '
'That's us. We live a few miles out.'
'You guys got jobs here?'
'Na. We travel around. Salesmen. Hunting equipment.'
Well, Gimmie a couple of days and I'll see what I can do.'
:
'Did the guy say he'd be able to fix them?'
Sam gazed up at his sibling as he came down the stairs into the bunker.
:
'He's gonna try though he agrees it's time you trashed them too.'
'No way,' Sam shot back. 'They're a memento of all that can go wrong in a single day.'
'Dude. You were cursed! The shoes have nothing to do with the rabbit's foot. Plus, the next time they need fixed you can take them in yourself. And no puppy-eyed stare is gonna make me!
Sam lowered his eyes and smiled to himself. Dean was as influenceable now as he'd been when Sam was a kid.
Mountains may crumble, oceans evaporate, but the puppies were eternal.