"Hey, guess what 'Day Of' it is," Dean said, appearing in Sam's bedroom doorway. He was hiding something behind his back. Sam was at his dresser, putting away his laundry. He didn't even glance back.

"No."

"C'mon, Sammy. You know you enjoy celebrating. I guarantee this is going to cheer you up."

"No, Dean. No. Go away. I'm not in the mood."

"No, you need cheering up. You need this. C'mon."

"Need what?" Sam was pissed. "What've you got behind your back? A National Geographic magazine with its – its –" He gestured toward Dean, irritated. "Its educationally dirty pictures? Something to 'celebrate' Thomas Crapper inventing the toilet? I'm not in the mood. I'm not in the mood for any of it."

Dean's expression fell and he brought his hands from behind his back. "Chocolate cake and bubble wrap appreciation day," he said, quietly, showing Sam what he was holding. Sam closed his eyes and sighed and fell to sitting on his bed. Dean set the plate of cake and roll of bubble wrap on the desk "I knew you needed cheering up. I didn't know it was this bad."

"I just – I just –" Sam let out a deep, deep breath. "I was looking to see if there was a National Day of Hope, you know?"

"And?"

"And there is one. There's a National Day of Hope."

"And.." Dean asked again, obviously understanding that there was more to the story.

"And…this year it falls on April Fools Day. And I just – I just – " Sam stopped talking.

"Yeah, and maybe this is the year that Chuck is the fool," Dean said.

"What are the chances of that? We're not the heroes of the story, anymore. Remember? We're – we're – I don't even know what we are."

"We're the Winchesters," Dean said, fast and determined. Then he said, "No, you know what? We're more than the Winchesters. We're us. Chuck has maybe written story after story about Sam and Dean Winchester, all kinds of Sam and Dean Winchesters, but it seems like all those other brothers are the ones who followed the script. We don't. If we did, we'd already be dead, years ago. We mess up, we screw up, we fight, we forgive, but we don't give up. And we don't follow the script, especially now that we know there is a script. We'll beat him. We will."

Clearly exhausted, Sam nodded. "Okay. Yeah. We'll beat him. Okay."

Clearly not believing Sam's agreement, Dean nodded, too. "Okay, so – in the meantime, bubble wrap and chocolate cake." He pushed the roll of bubble wrap into Sam's hands. "C'mon, find something on Netflix and I'll get more cake and coffee, all right?"

"Yeah, yeah, all right."

Dean nodded and tapped the doorframe on his way out. "I want all that bubble wrap popped by the time I get back ," he called as he walked down the hallway. Sam answered him with a long, loud bubble wrap devastation.

The End (of this chapter.)