(Disclaimer Characters remain the property of CW and Kripke. I am not, and do not, intend to do this for profit.)
A Little Car Ride
Fresh, muddy puddles overflowed from their potholes as they were disrupted by Little Sammy's large, clumsy feet as he made his way to the Impala.
"Hurry up Dean, we're gonna be late for school," he urged impatiently, in a voice not quite yet broken.
He swung the big door open with a struggle, scattering small water droplets onto the wet tarmac and his own pale brown pants and climbed in awkwardly, the ends of his pants slightly wet. He hauled his two massive rucksacks into the foot well and slammed the door shut. A few greasy cheeseburger wrappers littered the seat between him and the driver's side; he collected them up and shoved them in his large pockets. He'd hate for Dad to come back early and find the car messy, that'd get Dean into trouble and Dean had bought the burgers for them as a treat… well a 'treat' in Dean's world and the 'usual crap' in Sam's.
Reaching across the width of the car, he slammed the side of his small fist against the horn twice, making the crows on top of the dirty, yellow motel fly off, protesting.
"Come on Dean!" he whined, "I don't want to be late on the first day!"
Dean stumbled out of the door, trying to co-ordinate putting on one of his boots and getting his arm into his leather jacket, motel key dangling in-between his white teeth. He slammed the door shut and half ran across to the car.
"I said I was coming," he huffed as he climbed in, throwing the motel keys into the glove compartment. "Remind me where I put those later… y'hear me?"
Sam nodded his head, causing his floppy hair to fall into his big brown eyes.
"Good girl," Dean joked, as he reached across and ruffled little Sammy's mop of hair, causing them both to smile goofily.
"Where's your bag, Dean?" Sam frowned, suddenly serious.
"Oh no! It's in the motel room!" said Dean sarcastically as he started the engine. "I guess there's no time to get it now though, Sammy, especially seen as you've told me we're gonna be late so many times already this morning."
He winked and peeled out of the parking lot, speeding up the road almost as quickly as he was turning up the stereo. Sam rummaged anxiously in one of his rucksacks; he'd nearly emptied it when he finally emerged triumphantly with a bursting pencil case and pulled out a black pen. Dean was in the middle of recreating one of the best drum solos of all time on the steering wheel; he looked down, slightly confused, when Sam tapped his arm sharply with the pen, then grabbed it and began using it as a drumstick.
"No! It's for school!" Sam shouted over the blasting stereo, rolling his eyes and laughing. Dean cued Sam as the guitar riff kicked in, and relenting, Sam grabbed his pencil case and did a little air guitar.
The song finished, Dean laughing at his brother as he shoved the pen behind his ear and turned into the In 'N' Out burger joint.
"This isn't school, Dean!"
"Well I haven't had breakfast and I'm staaaaarving," Dean said dramatically. As they pulled up to the window Sam kindly offered him a slightly fluffy, green apple from the pile of rubbish he'd got out of his rucksack; Dean's whole body retracted at the sight of a piece of food that didn't come in-between two pieces of bread.
"Hi welcome to In 'N' Outs, can I help you?" droned a small black-haired girl, with heavy black eyeliner and several studs littered around her face.
"Two cheese burgers and two chocolate shakes." Dean gave her a cheesy grin, which was not reciprocated.
"That's $7," she muttered, as she admired her chipped black nail polish. Dean handed her some screwed-up, slightly ripped $1 dollar bills from his jeans' pocket.
"Thanks, have a… nice day," she unenthusiastically chanted as she reluctantly took the grubby dollar bills.
The food was already there as they drove to the next window, served to them by a very happy, plump woman with port red cheeks and a smile for a mile.
As Dean drove, he hoovered down the burger and shake as if his life depended on it.
"I'm going out again tonight," he said in between mouthfuls, spitting food everywhere. "I've got a date," he continued in a muffled way, this time slurping milkshake through the mushed-up burger in his mouth.
"Gross." Sam shuddered, picking slowly at his massive burger and shake. Dean turned to face him, smirking, rolling the food round and poking bits out on his tongue. Sam retreated towards his door, pulling his rucksack with him.
"Hey, did you hear what I said?" Dean punched Sam softly in the arm.
"Cindy, that waitress?" Sam asked.
"Nah, this cute little brunette who works at the gas station." Dean winked and grinned, giving Sam another unwanted view of his breakfast.
Sam had just finished half his burger and shake when they pulled up outside a big red-brick high school with a white roof, like the ones you see in all the movies. Students were already in class, apart from one small kid who was currently running as fast as he could to the white front doors, with a note, obviously from his parents, flapping wildly in his hand.
Sam messily re-packed his rucksack at speed; Dean reached into the glove box and grabbed two candy bars, tossing one to Sam, who barely caught it. He ripped the other one out of its packet and dipped it into his shake.
"Good luck today, Sammy."
Sam started climbing out of the car. "Aren't you coming?" he asked, disappointed.
"Nah, I don't start until next week," Dean lied. Sam was giving him puppy-dog eyes, so he added hastily, "Don't worry, I'll meet you for lunch in the cafeteria though."
"Well lunch is at 12.15." Sam said, trying to hide his grin behind his sleeve.
"Alright, go on then, otherwise you'll be late." Dean joked, knowing that his brother was already pretty late. Sam slammed the door shut with his hip, toppling slightly from the weight of his massive bags. Dean grinned widely, pressed his horn lightly twice and drove off with AC/DC blasting out of the window.
Sam turned round and faced the school with a sigh; you'd think he would be used to starting at a new school, he'd done it so many times before. He pulled his back pack on further, threw the rest of his burger and shake into a trash can and slowly made his way up the concrete steps to the white doors. Through the door glass he could see lime-green corridors with white and yellow stripes running down the centre. Hovering his hand over the handle for a second, he took a deep breath to settle his stomach and entered with caution.
Hi, hope you liked this little story. Sometimes my big brother acts like Dean, so I have sympathy for Sam. :) If you have time a review would be MUCH appreciated. Cheers.