'You want some?'
Dean glared at the carton of orange juice as if it was about to morph into a demon. 'I don't eat -or drink- orange coloured stuff. You should know that by now Sammy.'
Sam tilted back his head and let out an incredulous huff. 'Dude, I've seen you slug down drinks that were all the colours of the rainbow. Though I have to say the Purple Nurples really stick out in my memory.'
Dean grinned. 'Never did get around to tasting them again. Good times, dude.'
'Yeah,' Sam agreed, pouring himself a generous glass of juice. 'They were. A lot of water has passed under the bridge since.'
:
'The question is, were we better off back then or are things easier now?' Dean mused, sipping at his coffee.
'We were younger,' Sam remarked, 'so I suppose there's that, but there was plenty of crap raining down on us early on too.'
:
'Maybe, but at least we didn't know angels existed and that on its own is enough to bring on an attack of nostalgia.'
'Amen to that,' Sam seconded, reaching over to clink his glass against Dean's coffee mug, in perfect concordance.