"Hey, it's National Sweater Day, that's one we should tell Donatello about," Dean said as he walked into the kitchen. He was reading from a folded newspaper in his hand. "Oh, it's also National Pay A Compliment Day. I don't think Pay a Compliment Day should be on the same day as National Sweater Day. Then again, that's probably the only way a sweater could get a compliment, you know?"
He looked up from the newspaper. Sam was vigorously scrubbing one of the counters with a sponge and a spray bottle of extra strength multipurpose cleanser.
"Worried about the corona virus?" Dean asked.
"What? No, no of course not," Sam answered, in his 'who, me, trying to hide something?' voice. "Just – I just wanted to clean the kitchen. You know, I just, you know…"
"Uh hunh…" Dean looked around the kitchen. The floor was swept, the sink was empty, and the tables and other counters already gleamed. "You making sure everything is 'Sammy-approved' for Jack?"
"I – no – you know -" Sam stammered and kept scrubbing. "I just – I – I – uh – yeah, yeah. I guess, yeah, maybe I am."
"It's not like he can get sick or anything, you know."
"I know, I know he can't. And I know, you know, I know it's not the first time he's come back, but I just wanted – needed – to do something. You know?"
He seemed embarassed but Dean smiled.
"The day Mom and Dad were bringing you home from the hospital, when you were just a couple days old, I spent the morning, and I mean all morning, cleaning my room, cleaning your room, cleaning everything. Every toy, every book, every surface, every little thing, I had my little paper towel and I wiped it all down. Everything was going to be nice and clean for my little brother."
Sam looked puzzled and embarassed and pleased and bent his head down to finish his task.
"C'mon," Dean said. He tossed the paper down and walked to the fridge. "Finish up there. It's Frozen Yogurt Day, too. I stocked up. Let's bring some out to Jack and Cas."
The End (of this chapter.)