"You want to do what?"
The look that accompanied the question made it seem as if Sam had just suggested they run naked round the parking lot.
"Come on, Dean, we haven't done it for years and who knows? We might find out something interesting. We do have a couple of missing years we never really caught up on properly." he said.
Dean rolled his eyes, something he could now do without feeling like he was going to pass out.
"It might be fun when you're a kid but don't you think it's a bit lame at our age? And besides, I know everything I need to know about you, Sammy." he said with a smirk.
Sam raised an eyebrow.
"Don't tell me you're frightened about what I might ask? I know how much you hate revealing anything, but it's only us in the room, Dean. Your secrets will be safe with me."
"Dude, do you really think that still works on me? I grew out of 'I dare you cos you're scared' years ago you know."
"Well, what do you suggest then, genius? We can't hunt, we can't go for a walk, you can't read – not that you ever want to anyway. We can't play cards since we don't have any. I'm running out of ideas here." said Sam.
Dean sighed. Sam had a point. It was only the second day in the Motel room and already they were both bored.
They'd surprised themselves by sleeping straight through till morning after their ridiculously early night but now they were awake, they'd had breakfast, and they were struggling to think of something to pass the time. Sam's idea of 'Twenty Questions' was the first thing either of them had come up with in an hour.
He was fairly certain Sam wouldn't ask anything too awkward, but then knowing his brother he could decide this was a good excuse to try and weed out some really deep stuff, which would of course result in possible bloodshed.
Vertigo or no vertigo.
Sam knew Dean too well of course and so could tell exactly what he was thinking.
"Look we'll keep it to the simple stuff ok? Nothing you're not happy sharing. Although with you that's a really small list but I'm not sure we have enough time to sort out that skewed psyche of yours.."
He was cut off by a pillow that suddenly appeared out of nowhere and almost hit him in the face.
He grinned. "Not bad – your vision must be getting better."
Dean glared.
"Wise ass. Alright then, if that's honestly the best we can do I guess we might as well get on with it. Although I gotta say I'm disappointed – all that time at College and you never learnt any fun stuff to pass the time?" he said with a sigh.
Sam shook his head.
"I learnt plenty of fun stuff, but we're kinda limited since pretty much everything requires the ability to stand up straight. Which you still can't do, remember?"
Dean huffed. "Oh fine, kick a guy when he's down. Go on then Francis – I know you're dying to go first." he said, adopting a long suffering expression.
Sam gave the impression of being deep in thought. He actually did intend to go easy on his brother, figuring he was suffering enough already.
Of course there was no need to let him know that just yet, since he was making such a fuss about the whole thing.
"Alright – favourite colour?" he said after a moment.
Dean raised his eyebrows. "Are you kidding me?" he said and Sam held out his hands.
"Hey – you wanted to keep it simple."
"Yeah, simple not stupid!"
"You know what? This is gonna go so well if you object to every question I come up with." said Sam dryly and Dean grimaced but answered, albeit through gritted teeth.
"This so lame. Fine – it's still black." he said.
Sam shook his head. "I'm certain there's a really interesting revelation in there somewhere but I'm not sure I even wanna go there. Ok, your turn." he said.
Dean thought then grinned.
"Ok. Favourite..."
He didn't get to finish as Sam held up a finger warningly.
"Keep it clean, Dean – I mean it."
Dean sighed. "You are such a killjoy, you know that? Fine – favourite song?"
Sam smiled softly. "Aerosmith – Don't Want To Miss A Thing. It was the first slow dance Jess and I had."
Dean looked sympathetic for a second before attempting to lighten the mood.
"I suppose at least it's a decent band, although you had to go with a sappy ballad didn't you?" he said.
Sam rolled his eyes but his lips twitched at the typical Dean response.
"Not everything has to be screamed out at 80 decibels and accompanied by deafening guitar."
"It does to be half decent." said Dean and Sam gave up, knowing there was no point wasting his breath on debating the merits of mullet rock yet again with his brother.
"Favourite food?" he said next and Dean smiled.
"Apple pie. Mom used to let me help her make it. It reminds me of her every time I eat it."
Sam looked at him in surprise.
"I didn't know that." he said quietly and Dean flushed as he realised he'd just revealed more than he intended.
He cleared his throat. "Yeah, well – it's no big deal. Ok, favourite place?" he said, keen to shift attention away from what he'd just blurted out.
Sam shifted awkwardly. He knew what he wanted to answer to this one but he also knew he was risking ridicule and months worth of teasing.
Dean noticed and grinned. "Don't tell me, it's somewhere embarrassing. It's ok, Sammy, just between you and me – I swear I'll take it to the grave." he said.
Sam's lips thinned. "You really have to put it like that?" he said, not finding any idea of Dean being near a grave remotely amusing.
"Gee, lighten up would you? And I'm still waiting." said Dean.
Sam sighed. Might as well get it over with.
"If you laugh I am not picking you up off the floor next time you fall over." he warned.
Dean looked impatient. "Whatever – just spit it out would you?"
"Mhughtimalpa." he mumbled.
Dean frowned. "Dude, either you just spoke in another language or now my hearing has gone too. What the hell did you just say?"
Sam closed his eyes and repeated himself a little louder, grudgingly.
"The Impala."
Dean blinked and looked at him.
"The Impala is your favourite place?" he said and Sam nodded, feeling himself go red from the neck up.
Dean wasn't laughing yet though, he just looked confused.
"Why?"
Sam glowed even redder.
Who's idea was this stupid game?
"It's the first place I can really remember, being in the back with you while Dad drove us all over the place. And then later on with you up front, listening to you and Dad talk about the hunt or other stuff. And since Jess died it's been just the two of us – it's kind of the closest thing we have to a home, I guess. And when I'm in it I get reminded of all those all those memories and it just feels. You know." he tailed off, mentally throwing down the shovel and attempting to jump out of the hole he'd just dug himself.
Dean's eyes were suspiciously bright as he looked at Sam, and Sam swore he saw him swallow before he answered.
"Ok." he said and Sam stared at him incredulously.
"That's it? Ok? You're not gonna tell me how lame that is?"
Dean shrugged. "I don't think it is lame. Actually I agree with you." he said simply and now Sam really was speechless.
"Oh." was about all he could manage.
Moving on as if they hadn't just strayed into a 'moment', Dean prompted Sam.
"Your turn."
Sam tried to kick his brain back into gear and think of the next question.
"Favourite sport?"
"Shooting." said Dean without hesitation.
"Dude, that's not what most people would consider a sport." said Sam but Dean shrugged.
"They have competitions in it. You need hand/eye coordination, you have to train for it, you have to take care of your equipment. It's a sport, Sam." he said adamantly and Sam shook his head.
"Ok, it's a sport. To some people anyway. Your go."
Dean glared at the implication he was on his own on that one, then grinned evilly as his next question popped into his head.
Sam looked apprehensive. That look so did not bode well for what he was gonna get asked next.
"Favourite film?" he said, certain Sam was gonna pick something girly that he could then tease him about for the rest of the day.
Sam let out a silent sigh of relief. He knew what Dean was assuming his answer would be and he also knew his brother was gonna be surprised.
"The Shining." he said smugly, chuckling at the look on Dean's face.
"Oh come on! No way you're not gonna pick some chick-flick with an inspirational meaning or some crap like that! Since when did you like horror films?" he said indignantly.
"You don't know everything about me, Dean. I never said I don't like horror films, I said I don't like bad horror films. That one was pretty good. And it was the first grown up film you let me watch, remember?" he said.
Dean's face softened as he did remember. Curled up on the sofa in a house they were renting somewhere in Washington State, Sam leaning closer and closer as the film progressed even though by that stage he was shying away from physical affection now he was the grand age of 11. By the time it came to the finale Sam had been unashamedly leaning against Dean, and Dean had dropped his arm casually round Sam's shoulders watching with amusement every time his little brother jumped. Sam had enjoyed the film despite being terrified, Dean recalled now, although John had been less impressed with the nightmares that had followed for a week afterwards.
Sam had vocally defended Dean's decision to let him watch the film though, and he'd pointed out that Dean had been no older when he'd first watched it. Presented with Sam's staunch defence and not really able to argue that point, John had let it go. Dean remembered he had felt guilty abut the nightmares, but Sam had been insistent that he'd enjoyed the film and, he'd been so pleased that Dean had treated him as 'grown up' enough to watch it that Dean had felt ok about it in the end.
Looking at the soft smile on Sam's face he knew his brother was probably remembering all that too, and that it may have something to do with why it was his favourite film.
He shook his head. He'd been right about this whole thing – somehow every answer they were both giving was dragging them far closer to a Dr Phil moment than he was comfortable with.
He should have known.
As if aware they were nearing Dean's limit the next question Sam asked was innocuous enough and didn't involve a trip down memory lane. The following topics ranged from favourite actors and bands to favourite books, although there had been a slightly heated debate on that one when Sam disputed a graphic novel being an actual book. Dean had been adamant though and in the end it was quicker – and safer – to give in.
Before they knew it they realised they'd been playing the game for three hours. The time had flown by and they'd both enjoyed finding out interesting, and sometimes surprising, information about each other. It felt to Sam like it closed some of the gaps that were still left after his time at Stanford. And it had been fun.
Not that he was gonna be able to get Dean to admit that of course.
Having talked their way through lunch they decided to go for an early dinner. Sam made his now regular trip to the Diner and came back with the burger Dean had insisted his stomach was up to now.
There was minor grumbling about lack of extra onions, but Sam was not to be persuaded on that one. They had however compromised on the coffee and Dean's appreciation of caffeine distracted him from his onion free meal.
They ate in pleasant silence and when Sam once again produced two pieces of apple pie when they'd finished there was an added warmth to the gesture, now they were both aware of the memories Dean associated with it.
Dean rolled his eyes at Sam's sappy look but he couldn't stop the smile that broke out on his own face when he saw it, and he decided he might as well give up and go with it.
Although it was never leaving the room that they'd had this 'Waltons' moment.
As they both tucked in it felt to Sam almost like he was sharing some of Dean's memory of Mary, and he vowed silently to try and make sure they encountered apple pie more often. It certainly explained why Dean was always so excited whenever somewhere they were eating had it on the menu.
He smiled to himself. Perhaps there was finally some good coming from their enforced break. He still wished Dean wasn't having to suffer like this, but he had to admit that lack of escape meant his brother finally revealed a little more of himself than usual.
Even if it was still peppered with enough Dean-isms to stop things getting too mushy.
Taking another bite of pie he reflected he was actually going to be a little sorry when things were back to normal.
"Hey, Sam? Maybe later we can move on to the really interesting questions." said Dean suddenly.
Ok. Maybe not that sorry.