My thanks to MarbleWolf, celinenaville, and Al for your comments on the previous chapter. Not sure where I'm headed with this, but I think it's going to take me at least two more chapters to get there.
Not mine, don't own. I don't have a beta yet, so if you see an error, please let me know. Thanks for reading!
Cross-posted at Archive of Our Own.
"So, what do you think? Two pairs of glasses and some prescription sunglasses?" Sam stood next to Dean with a clipboard, neat in his suit and tie, watching as his older brother fidgeted in front of a mirror with heavy black frames on his face. The hipster glasses actually worked well with the plaid flannel, jeans, and work boots, but Dean still felt like an imposter.
He looked at himself from all angles. It was hard to picture looking like this day in and day out. Will glasses even stay on during a hunt? Contacts seemed like a better option, but they cost even more than the glasses did. He sighed.
Dean removed the frames awkwardly with his left hand, careful not to jar his right arm. "It's too much." He handed the glasses back to Sam.
"You'll get used to them. With dark polycarbonate lenses in, they'll look just like regular sunglasses. You'll want the anti-glare and the scratch-resistant coating -"
Dean grabbed the pen from his brother's grip. "It's too much money, Sam. I only need one pair."
Sam's expression contorted into a classic bitch face. "Dean -" he began, stilling as his eyes flicked across the room. At the sight of his boss, Sam's voice lost the impassioned plea and took on a practical edge. "With your line of work, Mr. Winters, I'd recommend at least two pairs of glasses. You need a backup pair. And with the amount of driving you do for your job, I think prescription sunglasses are essential." He huffed slightly at his brother when Myers' back was turned. Sam widened his eyes at Dean and tipped his head. Dean had seen this look often from his bitchy little brother: Stop arguing with me and agree already!
Dean gave the younger man a forced smile. "How much did you say this was going to set me back?"
Sam blinked. In his quest to make the sale, he'd apparently forgotten that adding in two extra pairs of glasses might throw them over budget. He squinted at his clipboard and twisted his lips while doing the math. Shaking his head at the price, he calculated and recalculated the figures. "With your budget, Mr. Winters, I believe we could get you in the titanium frames. They have a lifetime warranty. And the dark plastic sunglasses will have to serve as your backup pair for now." He looked up from the clipboard and gave his brother an apologetic look.
Dean shrugged. "How long's it gonna take to get these made?"
Sam released a breath with a genuine smile. Dean wondered if he was merely happy about the sale or if he was relieved to know that Dean was actually filling the prescription.
"We should have them ready in three days. I hope you can wait that long." There was a pleading in Sam's eyes that Dean wasn't quite sure how to interpret. Does Sam just want me to stay off the hunt until my specs come in or does he actually want to see me?
"Yeah, uh," Dean cleared his throat. "My partner wants to head out tonight. Got a job down in New Mexico. We'll have to swing back here after."
Sam's eyes narrowed. "You're driving with your arm like that?" Dean heard the undercurrent of judgmental worry: You're hunting when you can't see and your arm's busted? Are you outta your mind?
Dean ground his teeth. "I gotta keep my job." He stared at Sam. You know Dad. Not like I have anywhere else to be. You left.
Sam swallowed hard as Mr. Myers came forward and took Dean's purchase order to ring it into the antiquated cash register. He gave Sam a pat on the back.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Winters," the older man said to Dean. "We'll call you when these come in."
As Dean nodded to the owner, Sam fixed his brother with a glare. You're an idiot. Why do you always do whatever Dad wants?
Dean sighed. He'd thought he missed the way he and Sam could communicate without words, but this back and forth was exhausting and Dean was still sore from the Wendigo attack. He needed to take another pain pill and that meant he needed food. Soon.
"Uh, Sam," he hesitated. "Could you, uh, point me toward the nearest diner?"
Sam blinked uncertainly. He looked at Mr. Myers.
The older man nodded, humming happily as he counted the cash in his till. "Go on, Sam. It's nearly five anyway." He smiled at the tall young man. "Good work today."
Sam shook his head. "I still need to restock -"
"You'll take care of it tomorrow," Myers said. "Go take care of our newest customer."
And he ushered both men out the door.
Once on the sidewalk, Dean gave Sam an appraising look and smiled. "Lookin' sharp there, Sammy. Life must be treating you well."
Sam stared at the tips of his shiny black shoes. "The diner is this way," he said in a strained voice, awkwardly waving goodbye to his boss, who was watching them closely through the glass.
Dean's smile faltered. He waited until they were further down the street before asking, "Not the easiest guy to please, I guess?" The pair kept pace with each other; even after three years apart their steps fell right into sync.
Sam huffed. "He's still better to work for than Dad." His little brother crossed his arms protectively. "How ... how is Dad, anyway?" Sam bit his lip.
"Fine." Dean shook his head. "He's gonna to be so surprised when I tell him I saw you today -"
"Dean!" At his brother's insistence, Dean's head snapped up. "I don't want you to tell him. I don't want to see him."
"Sam -"
"No, Dean, I get it, I do. You want us to make peace but there's nothing left there to salvage. Dad threw me out." Sam studied his shoes.
Dean stopped walking and lowered his eyebrows. "You left."
Sam tipped his head up and looked intently at his brother. "I wanted to go to college, Dean! I got a full ride to Stanford. What would you do?" Before Dean could answer, Sam snapped, "Oh, sure. You'd just give up your entire life and follow the man blindly."
Dean shook his head slightly and raised his eyebrows at the brother who had just sold him two pairs of glasses. "Right. Blind idiot. Got it." He wrapped his left arm carefully around his right and resumed walking.
"Shit, Dean, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way."
Dean sighed. Dusk had fallen and fingers of fog were creeping in from the side streets. The chill aggravated the pain in his wrist and Dean began to rub his arm methodically. "How far is this diner of yours?"
Sam pointed at a white sign several blocks away. "Larry's Deli and Grub." At Dean's raised eyebrow, Sam shrugged. "I hear they've got good cheeseburgers."
Dean squinted down the main drag of this tiny town. The fog wasn't doing his vision any favors. But if Sam said the restaurant was up ahead, that was good enough for him.
"Dean, did you drive here?" Sam's worried bitch face was studying Dean's closely, and Dean felt entirely too self-conscious about his waning eyesight. "I didn't see the Impala parked on Main Street."
He nodded, not meeting his brother's eyes. "Second Street, I think."
"Dean, you can't drive like this." Sam waved a hand to encompass Dean's eyes and arm.
He glared at his Sasquatch of a brother. "I've been drivin' since you were sucking your thumb."
"I was twelve, Dean! It was one time!" Sam stopped, folded his arms, and glared at his brother. "Please take a few days off. You know you're in no condition to hunt, no matter what Dad says. Tell him to go on without you. You can meet back up with him later."
Dean swallowed hard, weighing his choices. Sam or Dad? But Sam had walked away from the Winchester way of life and Dean didn't think he could stand it if Sammy left him again. It was easier not to open himself up.
Sam, sensing Dean's indecision, grasped the older man's good shoulder and squeezed. "At least wait until your glasses come in. They're gonna make your life so much easier." He dropped his hand. "And I - I want to see you. We haven't talked in a long time." Sam swallowed hard as his face twitched. "I miss you."
"I've missed you, too, Sammy. But Dad -"
"You need to get going, I know." Sam shook his head sadly. "Let's at least eat dinner together, okay?"