Expiration Dates
Dean wandered idly through the motel parking lot, fingering the Impala's key with one hand and his bag of greasy diner food in the other. His rough boots heavily hit the pavement with each step, and he could feel his feet sing for freedom through his dirty socks.
What Dean wanted more than anything was some peace and fucking quiet. For the past two weeks he had been holed up in this motel with Sammy and his constant tapping of his laptop, that furrowed brow telling Dean that there was work to be done, and sleep could wait.
The vacancy light from the motel burned the pavement with it's red glare, flashing at random intervals and giving Dean this unwavering feeling that he had to watch his back.
Who was he kidding, he felt that all the damn time.
Pushing the motel key into the door, he shouldered in, grumpily throwing the keys into the dish on the counter. Dropping the bag of food on the table, he pushed it towards Sam, who continued to type wildly into this laptop.
Sam looked up, eyed the bag of food, and looked across the room at Dean.
"Really man? This is the fourth night this week. There aren't any other diners in town?"
"Nope."
Sam rolled his eyes and pushed the bag away.
"How's the research coming? Any leads?"
"I've been searching through some lore, not much else. Bobby should have that translation back soon."
"Right. And we're supposed to just sit on our asses and wait." The venom on Dean's tongue might've overwhelmed some. Frightened even. But Sammy was used to his aggressive voice, tight shoulders, and antisocial body language. Behind all that, Sam could tell that his brother was just tired, plain and simple.
"Hey, why don't I take over tonight, sweep over a few things?"
"Great idea. Let's have the kid coughing up blood take over for the night."
Dean was not about to have his little brother go tramping around at night, sleepless no doubt, in lieu of him. No freaking way.
"Come on, Dean, You need some sleep. It's no big deal-"
Dean turned suddenly on Sam, his eyebrows raised and his head bent down in that characteristic way that Dean had, which meant he was more than serious.
"You gonna pretend like I don't know what's going on here? Sammy these trials have done things to you. We don't even, Cas doesn't even know what's wrong. And I'm just supposed to let you go on like it's not a big deal? No way."
"Dean-"
"No. Eat your burger. I'm going out."
"Dean!-"
The front door slammed shut, and Sam watched his brother angrily stomp across the parking lot to the impala, whose rain spatter glowed red from the vacancy sign up above. It flickered and moaned in the wind, the trees spraying drops of rain onto his brother's thick brown leather jacket.
Sam caught Dean idling by the car door, his fingers wrapping around the keys just a fraction longer than he ought to of. And with the weight of the world on his shoulders, Dean slid into his Baby, roaring her to life, driving off into the inky night.