Written By: Mello McQueen

Summary: Marshmallows have feelings too. Blind!Dean fic.

Pairing(s): None

Authoress Note(s): So, when I was home last I told my cousin to say the first thing that came to mind, and I would do my best to write for it. She said, Marshmallows have feelings too. Technically, this is my 3rd blind!Dean fic, but it's the second one I've finished in this batch. More to come, however, I've hit a slight snag. See my profile for more information. After you read and review of course. Thanks.

What Is Soft And Squishy

"Marshmallows have feelings too." This is Dean's response to their highly intelligent conversation, which is only happening because Sam decided to walk in just in time to find Dean sprawled out on the hotel couch with a half-full bag of marshmallows in his lap, and the other half in his mouth.

When Sam walks in, he makes a sound which the younger Winchester brother has to assume is a greeting of some kind, by the way Dean's face splits into a lumpy looking grin, marshmallows pushing at the insides of his cheek. "That's disgusting." Sam says as one accidently slides out of his mouth, and Dean starts to shake softly with silent laughter. "Dude, you're going to choke."

Another unintelligible sound. "Seriously, dude, swallow some of...what the hell are those things anyway?"

"moshmewohs"

Sam rolls his eyes, even though Dean can't see him, and he moves forward, grabbing the bag and reading the label. "Marshmallows? Where the hell did you get these?"

"'ound dem."

"Dude, they're pink, yellow, and green and they're shaped like little bunnies."

"...so futs'orpoint?"

"They're from Easter, Dean! It's almost the middle of August."

"...so?"

"So? Were they OPEN when you "found" them?"

Dean hesitates, chewing on the mouthful of marshmallows, he thinks for a moment. "'es."

Sam groans. I'm never leaving you alone by yourself again, he thinks. "I'm throwing these away." He says.

"what 'or, they're good." Dean protests, and Sam shudders, holding the bag tightly in his hands as he moves away from the couch, rapidly, incase Dean makes a dive at him.

Dean doesn't though, and Sam stops looking at the bag then back at his brother. "They're shriveled, and probably diseased." He states, even though they're not, as he stands holding them over the open trashcan.

Dean lowers his eyes at that, and makes a face. It's halfway between dejected and stubborn.

"You'll thank me for it later." Sam responds at the look, but he doesn't let go of the bag as Dean sits up and stuffs his hands in between crossed legs, pushing his fists into the bed. It's something Sam hasn't seen him do since they were kids.

"Fine, whatever." Dean says, with a huff of air, and his tone is the kind Sam associates with small, somewhat spoiled, petulant children.

Dean isn't, of course, but that doesn't stop Sam from feeling sorry for him as he looks at his older brother, sitting there with his shoulders slumped like that and he hates himself as he lets the lid of the trashcan slide shut again, and chunks the bag at Dean's head.

It misses, of course, landing on the floor beside him with a soft plop and Sam is already stomping towards the bedroom by the time Dean's hand finishes groping around for the bag.

"If you get sick, you'd better not come crying to me about it!" He says, pausing as Dean finally pulls the bag to him and opens it up, pulling out a pink bunny-shaped sweet, squishing it between his fingers before popping the thing into his mouth. "Those things are disgusting." He says again, almost involuntarily, and the next thing he hears is more of Dean's laughter and the words:

"Heeeeeeeey, watch it Sammy! Marshmallows have feelings too!" coming out of Dean's mouth all high pitched and squeaky before a handful of the brightly coloured candies come soaring at him from the front room.

Most of them miss, but one hits him square in the back of the head. Sam sighs at that, turning around and wanting to tell Dean to grow up, like he used to whenever Dean got like this but he doesn't as Dean grins another lumpy grin -- mouth already full of a dozen more of the sugary sweets -- and looks at him with sightless eyes.

Instead, he says: "Cute, Dean. Real cute." And he tries not to let his heart break too much.

End

Authoress Note(s): Sam is, apparently. I feel so sad for him though...

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