Today we got two more fish to keep our one remaining fish company. I don't know about anyone else, but I do not like the smell in pet shops. I hope that you enjoy this! Please R and R and thank you for the reviews!
"So," I begin, flopping across the bed before Dean. He glances up from the comic book. "I think we need a pet."
"Y/N, we are constantly on the road and any animal we got would just die," he responds bluntly.
"Way to sugarcoat it, Sunshine," I pout, "but seriously, I want to get an animal."
My elder brother rolls his eyes and returns to the book. "Take it up with Dad."
Dad is out interviewing witnesses right now. He won't be back for another few hours. I perk up and race to propose my idea to Sam, who of course loves it. For the next couple hours we anxiously await the return of our father. When the engine of the Impala can be heard pulling to a stop we both race outside.
"Daddy, can we get a pet? Please, we'll take care of it and feed it and it won't die. Dean says it will but we won't let it," we nearly shout. He is a bit taken aback by our greeting.
"Say it again, one at a time please."
Sam speaks up first. "Sir, can we please get a pet? Y/N and I promise to take care of it. You won't have to worry at all about it."
"Please, Daddy," I add. Sam turns on his puppy dog eyes and I my daddy's little princess look. He rubs a hand over his face and heads to the room.
"No animals; forget about it, kids."
But we do not forget about it. For the next two weeks Sam and I are leaving hints. We draw pictures and place them in his duffle bag, on the driver seat of the Impala; we casually dance around the topic during meals; we watch Animal Planet while he is in the room. His defenses remain unwavering and our efforts seem fruitless.
One day John loads us three kids into the black car he loves nearly more than us (sometimes I think he does). He ignores all questions of where we are going. We stop in the parking lot of a strip mall and walk to the door reading Baca Brothers' Pets.
My face turns up. John nods at my radiant smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. "We can get something small that the three of you agree on," he clarifies.
There are so many creatures of all colors here it will be impossible to agree. Dean doesn't like snakes, Sam wants a lizard, I like the birds but am vetoed because they will be "too noisy and wake everyone up in the middle of the night"; Dean is allergic to cats; dogs are too much work.
When we reach the wall with blue aquariums our faces are pressed against the glass. "Look at that one," Dean points to an angelfish. Sam motions us over to the beta fish. I am mesmerized by the tetras of multiple colors that look as though they should glow in the dark.
Over an hour after we went in we come out carrying a bag of tetras and an angelfish, a portable fish tank loaded with rainbow gravel, plastic plants, filters, and fish food.
"Thank you," we chirp.
"You're welcome. Now will you stop pestering me about getting a pet?" John closes the trunk.
Sam and I nod in unison.
"Hey, Dad," Dean speaks up. "Can we go to that ice cream parlor?" Dad groans and drags a hand through his hair. "Or not," Dean says quickly, shrinking into a corner.