Blueberry popovers.
Something nagged at the back of Dean's mind when he saw the box of blueberry popovers sitting next to the coffee maker. Sure, his first thought was- when did Sam get them? It was barely six o'clock in the morning. But something more troublesome than Sam haunting bakeries in the middle of the night picked at Dean's brain.
Blueberry popovers.
Figuring it would come to him when it came to him, Dean poured himself some coffee, grabbed one of the popovers and headed to the library. Sam hadn't been there when he walked through before and he wasn't there now but midnight bakery runs were undoubtedly tiring, even for Sasquatches.
Especially - Dean eyed the scatter-storm of books, books and more books at Sam's place at the table - especially when the Sasquatch in question was on a twenty-six hour a day, nine day a week quest to pull his brother out of the way of the inescapable.
It was probably just national blueberry popover day, that's probably what was bothering Dean; celebrating when he didn't feel like celebrating. Not that Sam was making a big-deal-in-your-face-can't-miss-it show of it, it was just a plain white bakery box full of -
Blueberry popovers.
Dean remembered. It'd been popover day last year, too. They'd been neck deep or deeper in the rancor of misunderstanding and hurt feelings and guilt after Gadreel and Kevin and a thousand other points of contention. Sam had gotten popovers as a peace offering and Dean had ignored him. Cas had even winged in and specifically dropped the box in Dean's hands, and he'd still rejected it.
All of it.
He'd rejected Cas and the popovers. He'd rejected Sam and Sam's attempt to celebrate the day.
Not Blueberry Popover Day; Sam had wanted to - been trying to - acknowledge National Day Of Awesomeness. He'd been trying to let Dean know that despite everything, he still thought 'awesomeness' was Dean's day.
And Dean had rejected it.
He looked at his arm, where the Mark lay hidden under the sleeve of his gray Henley. Yeah, he'd had the Mark by this time last year, but Winchesters never needed outside influences to fight like pissed pit bulls with each other. But as soon as Dean was in trouble because of the Mark, Sam was 'pull out all the stops, no holds barred' to find him, protect him, save him. He didn't move Heaven and hell to get it done - Sam shoved Heaven and hell out of his way to get it done.
And smack in the middle of that battle, with defeat after defeat raining down on them and Dean even right this minute more than ready to call defeat for the final time, Sam went out in the middle of the night so that there'd be blueberry popovers next to the coffee maker when Dean got up early.
"Hey," Sam greeted Dean as he walked into the library.
"Hey. You were up early." Dean gestured with the popover. "Or are these from last year?"
Sam laughed, an honest laugh, and just like that Dean knew that the bitter tenor of last year was gone and forgotten.
"Those - I don't even know where those went." Sam said. "I got these a little while ago, when you were taking a shower."
"So, are we only celebrating Blueberry Popover Day?" Dean asked.
Sam shrugged, "Celebrating a couple of days," he said. He didn't elaborate but Dean didn't need him to. "You know, those are better hot. I'll heat some up." He headed for the kitchen.
Dean looked at his arm again and figured he could fight the Mark at least one more day.
##
