Happy Mother's Day
Sam and Dean shuffled wearily down the main street of the small town in the morning light. The shops along the street were slowly opening up, unlocking doors and placing displays out on the sidewalk. The brothers were exhausted. They had been up for two days straight – it had been a long hunt. They finally killed the monster moments ago, buried its body, and were heading for the motel to catch up on some rest.
An elderly shopkeeper suddenly opened the door to her yarn shop and walked out, bumping into Dean.
"So sorry!" she exclaimed, setting down her display board adorned with balloons.
"That's okay," Dean reassured the woman, and glanced at the sign. "Mother's Day, hm?"
The woman smiled at Dean and nodded, returning to her store.
"Mother's Day," Sam repeated, continuing to walk. The brothers were quiet, lost in their own thoughts, but they knew what each other was thinking.
"Dean - ,"
"Don't," interrupted the older brother. "Sammy, please don't. I'm tired, and I don't want to talk. About anything. Especially Mom."
"I – I just never knew, her, Dean. She never cut off my crusts, dude. She never watched a soccer game, never dropped me off at a friend's house. I'm sorry, I just can't help but think about it."
"Sammy," Dean stopped and turned towards Sam. "I know what you are thinking. Yeah, okay, our lives would have been different. All those things that you wanted when you were a kid would have happened. I'm sorry for both of us – and it sucks that Mother's Day isn't something we can celebrate. Or Fathers Day, or hell, Halloween. God knows, Christmas rots. I'm sorry, Sammy." Dean looked at his younger brother with sadness in his eyes.
Sam nodded wordlessly, and they turned and began walking again. Sam coughed to hide a sudden sob and kept his eyes averted.
Dean glanced at his brother. Sam had his head down, shoulders hunched, soft hair covering his eyes, hand down deep into his jean pockets. He knew Sam was trying to keep his emotions in check, especially from him, but that was what Dean loved about his brother. Sam carried the burden of caring too much. Dean just wished Sam wasn't so punished by it.
Dean clasped his hand on Sam's shoulder, squeezing it and giving his brother a shake. "How about some breakfast, Sammy? I'm starved."
"When are you not starved?" muttered his brother.
"Come on, Sammy, the sun is shining, there is one less monster in the world, and we are two free, young men. Besides, I think the special at the diner back there was pig in a poke."
Dean glimpsed a ghost of a smile on his brother's face. "Do you even know what that is?" he asked, revisiting an old joke. The brothers grinned at each other, then turned and made their way to the diner for breakfast. Together.