October 29th
"Sam?"
"No."
"C'mon."
"No."
Dean stood outside Sam's closed and locked bedroom door, trying to get him to come out.
"I made oatmeal…" Dean tried again, wheedling like Sam was three and not thirty. "It's National Oatmeal Day, you know…"
"And it's National Hermit Day; I'm hermiting."
Dean hmpf'd a breath in aggravation.
"You have to come out of your room eventually."
There was no answer to that from behind Sam's door. Probably because to a man who had suffered 180 years of hell, 'eventually' didn't even have to come along this decade.
"Fine." Dean finally gave in on a sigh. "I'm sorry, all right? I don't know why you're pissed at me."
That got Sam to rip open his bedroom door.
"An angel, Dean? While I was sleeping?"
"It wasn't like I had much time to get it done." Dean complained. "And I wouldn't call that sleeping, Sammy. You were dead to the world."
Sam glared at Dean and then was shoving a life-sized fuzzy stuffed angel out of his room and into Dean's arms.
"I was dead to the world because I was exhausted, Dean. And waking up to this thing lying next to me didn't do me any favors." He went back into his room and slammed the door. He shouted back, "And October 28th was 'plush toy day', not today."
Dean shrugged and considered his stuffed, silent companion.
"C'mon, let's see what National Day tomorrow is…"
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