Author's note: If you stick with this story, you will get to the importance of the chicken at the end and it makes even me cry. Its cute emo. Special thanks to Squee who make me have this idea when she said she wanted Chicken and Potatoes for dinner. This just popped in my scary little head.
Fascinated eyes inspected as ladle after ladle of thick, intoxicating goodness swirled in Mr. Miller's pot.
"Land sakes, have you never seen anyone cook like this before?"
"No, ma'am. Except Bobby, he makes beans and onions. Ewgh!"
"Nothing wrong with a good onion, it'll pull hair on your chest," Hardy groused.
"I thought I told you to hush!"
"I plucked your damn chicken for you. Don't hush me in my own house, woman."
At this point, the Miller's bickering instilled amusement in Sam. He had never met anyone like them and would dare say he would never find a pair like them again. He smiled broadly, wondering if this was what it meant to have a real home.
"Baby, you okay?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Now stop that! You call me Gina or Ginny if you like."
"Uh..."
"No arguing... You can see I have lots of practice at it."
Again his face lit up with a smile and his empty stomach rumbled. "Sorry, ma'a...Ginny."
"In some circles that is a compliment. When was the last time you ate?"
"Dunno."
"Honey child, you should always eat three square meals."
"That's what Dean's says, but he said its better to have 4."
"He may be right. Judging from the height of you, I'd say you both are bustling out like bean sprouts."
He wasn't sure what Gina meant with the beans but he imagined she meant they were growing boys. What did a hunter know about beans, other than he disliked Bobby's bean and onions. "I'm almost as tall as Dean. Dad says I take after my uncle on Mom's size. One day, I will be bigger than Dean. Just don't tell him."
"It's our secret."
"Ah fiddlesticks and poppycock! Never heard such nonsense in MY house in all MY born days." Hardy offered.
Exchanging a smile, Gina and Sam both chuckled.
"Never you mind with your fiddlesticks or you will be fiddling on your own."
With a huff, Hardy promptly snapped his mouth shut and gave her the evil eye.
"And don't you sass me with a look either." She said with a chuckle and a wink to Sam.
"Here, you eat some of this while it's hot."
"No, ma'am…"
"AHEM!"
"Ginny," Sam corrected. "I have to wait for Dean. It's for him."
"I don't think your brother would want you to starve, especially over my world famous chicken and dumplings."
"I have to wait for Dean. It's special. Remember?"
"I know, sweet boy, I know. Anyway, you grab hold of one of my homemade biscuits in any case. That's not part of the deal is it?"
"No," Sam reasoned as she handed him a large, warm, buttered biscuits about the size of a grapefruit. As he began to scarf down the rich, homemade goodness, Gina busied herself by dipping large scoops full of chicken and dumplings in an old covered casserole dish. In his grocery bag, she carefully placed several more overly wrapped biscuits in shiny tinfoil in Sam's grocery bag.
"I have some wrapping paper around here; we could decorate those gifts if you want." She offered, noticing the comics and wallet.
"Yes, please." Sam's cheeks puff up full of biscuit. Practically brimming with excitement and satisfaction, Sam watched as the last ladle full poured into the dish. No matter how many birthdays that had passed before this one, this year would be different.
"There! All done! My we have worked really hard on his. Now, I have my own surprise." As she spoke, she leaned over, bending low to the bottom of her oven and pulled out a small cake. "Every birthday boy needs a cake, don't you think."
"Wow!" Sam muttered, giving her a hug and then shying away. "This is going to be the best birthday ever."
"I don't have any icing or anything."
"No, it's great! Dean will love it. This year, he'll tell me the story and I'll surprise him."
"I dare say, he will be touched," Gina wiped a bit of sentimentality away from the corner of her eye. "How old will he be?"
"16"
"Almost a man."
"He's still my big brother."
"Yes, he is, sweetness. And I bet you'll always be close. I would have been proud to have a boy like you." She blushed. "You want Hardy to drive you back to town?"
With Hardy's grumble, Sam knew the man was less enthused about the prospect. "No ma'am. If Dad sees me with a stranger, he'll have my hide."
I like the father!" Hardy mentioned, but shut up again when Gina gave him her best don't you dare look.
"You get off that kiester and drive this boy home!"
--
As soon as Hardy pulled onto the main drag of the town, Sam thought it best to get out before the man tossed him out. Plus the threat of John seeing him with strangers added that extra incentive to be found on his own. He might get in trouble for being out, but since it was for Dean, his dad would soften the punishment. Even as forgetful, angry, and as cold as John could be, even he couldn't deny Dean on his birthday, not when it was out there on the table. To hell with Dad's orders- today was going to be a Winchester first in a long time.
"You sure this is where you want out?" Hardy asked, even sounding a bit concerned.
"Yeah, I have to get a candle at the store. I forgot earlier. Thanks."
The man eye-balled him wondering about the truth of the statement. "I can drive you all the way."
"No thanks, I'll be fine. The street is well lit and it's only a few feet from the store. Thanks again and thank Mrs. Gina for me." Sam smiled, hopped out, carefully slung his grocery bag, containing the cake, biscuits, wrapped presents, over his arm, and then held onto the casserole dish with both hands. The smell was intoxicating even through the glass lid. Finally, he felt balanced enough to kick the car door shut and nod his chin as a way to say goodbye.
"You take care now and keep in touch." Hardy gave Sam a soft look, almost wishful, before he even thought of driving off.
"I got it from here. Thanks, sir."
As the grizzly old man drove onward, Sam couldn't help noticing that Hardy glanced out his old car window a few times. Whatever reason, Sam was better for knowing the Millers. He had seen too much ugly in the world and to find a small bit of kindness in the most unlikely of places warmed him. Sam smiled widely, thinking that Hardy was a lot like Bobby. Hard on the outside, but soft inside. Different men, but still deep within them they really did care.
"Oh GOD! It's chicken Boy!"
Sam knew the voice all too well from the general sense of apathy that even clung to those words.
"I just need a candle." Sam informed Janet, who stood outside the general store's entrance, smoking the longest and thinnest cigarette possible like it was oh so fashionable. Next to her were three men, that he could only imagine being equal to three trolls who hide under bridges.
"Hangin' around those cluckin' freaks."
"Cluking freaks!" One of the Neanderthals mocked while the other one started to crow like a rooster.
"Whatcha doing, chicken boy?" The tallest one grumbled and Janet grabbed his arm in a way that said "look at my strong man."
"Nothing to concern you."
"You like playing with the farm animals, huh?"
With more important things on his mind, Sam turned away, rolling his eyes. He would forgo the candle to avoid this pack of idiots. These were the ones that Dean would call bottom feeders.
"What's wrong Colonel Sanders? You got some chicken choking to do."
"Yank yank!" The fatter of the friends muttered.
"Jerk! Jerk!" Chimed in the other, pimplier faced, boy.
"That little punk drove me nuts during my shift, Eddie. You tell him what for." Janet commanded.
It took all the patience within him not to put it Eddie, Janet, and the two chucklers in their proper place.
"You like to play with the chicken." Eddie smarted.
"No, he was looking for his chicken." Janet countered.
"Ahh... that's sad," said the pimple teen. "Missing his tiny chicken."
"Maybe he lost it in the sheep." Eddie screamed out a laugh, poking his moron friend's in the side. "Hey, I'm talkin' to you!" Eddie yelled, slamming into Sam's back.
After the impact, Sam managed to keep his footing, but now his blood boiled. "Listen, you slack-jawed, missing chromosome, sheep molesting asshole! If I wanted to learn about your local past times of humpin' sheep and circle jerkin', I would have rented the porn with your girlfriend." Sam said in his best Dean impersonation.
"You little puke!" Eddie hollered, jumping squarely towards Sam. The other two buddies weren't far behind. In short work, the sound of a dish breaking echoed off the sidewalk and Sam was lying in a thick pile of gravy and glass.
"No...No," Sam said seeing the broken lid of the casserole dish from the flat position on his back while punches and kicks landed in any exposed place he couldn't protect. He lashed out landing blows of his own before two of them held him down for the third.