The Starving Art

Chapter Four

"Dad, you've got to do something; that kid is getting too skinny!" Dean whisper-shouted in the kitchen on a Saturday morning. Sam was in bed, but could hear the conversation clearly. Eavesdropping had always been his best trait growing up. He knew all of Dean's dirty little secrets.

"I already told you, Dean, he's been on a diet for a while, and I think it's doing him some good," their father responded. "He looks fine to me, and he's actually been taking his health seriously now."

"He's not taking his health seriously! Look, I've been doing some research and I think he might be anorexic," Dean said. "Just…plan a dinner. We'll all eat dinner together and see what happens. If there's a problem, we fix it. If there isn't, we don't."

"Fine, Dean; we'll have dinner tomorrow night, okay?" Their dad sighed. "If you think this is a good idea. But you're cooking."

"I'll take care of everything, just be home tomorrow night so we can sit down as a family," Dean said.

Sam groaned. He needed to talk to Ruby.

SaMiAm: I need help.

Sam wasn't even sure if she was online or not, but it was worth a shot. Like clockwork, though, her name highlighted and popped up in his chat.

RedGem: What's up?

SaMiAm: Dean wants to have a dinner tomorrow night.

RedGem: You can't, you're on your zero calorie diet right now.

SaMiAm: I know I am, I need a way to get out of it.

RedGem: Have you finished your college essays yet?

SaMiAm: Yeah.

RedGem: Lie. Say you have so much work to do and can't risk the break from it. When they're eating, do sit-ups in your room.

SaMiAm: Thanks.

RedGem: If it doesn't work, hide the food in your pockets, napkins; anyway you can.

SaMiAm: Oh, I'm at 125 now.

RedGem: Good. Keep pushing. You're almost there; just ten more pounds.

"So, what did you do at work today, dad?" Sam asked, trying to keep the conversation going. He needed to keep talking. Ruby mentioned that if he kept talking, people wouldn't notice how little he was eating.

"I fixed this car that the owner thought had no hope," John answered. "They wanted to sell it for scrap, but I managed to fix it for them instead."

"How'd you talk them into letting you fix it?" Sam scraped his food around, feeling the burn of Dean's gaze on him. Dean was fixated, and not planning on moving anytime soon.

"I just told them they would get a better deal if I could fix the car, and they dared me to fix it, so I did." John smirked. "They said they'd tell their friends."

"That's awesome!" Sam grinned wide. "Maybe one of these days you can show me how to maintain a car. You know, take me to work with you and show me the ropes."

"You'd really be interested in that?" John asked. Sam, his sweet baby boy who would rather pretend to be a dragon while naked and still wet from a bath than fix a car, was asking him if he'd show him how to fix a car.

"Yeah," Sam said. "It sounds cool to be able to fix something like that." Like how I'd fix my life if I could, Sam thought to himself. He would never say those thoughts aloud.

"Hey, Dean, you wanna go get me a beer from the fridge?" John asked. Dean never said no when their father asked for a beer. Dean nodded and went willingly, though kept his eyes on Sam until he could no longer do so.

Sam took advantage of the opportunity and shoved some of the food in the pocket of his hoodie. It wasn't fun because they were having spaghetti, but he didn't care. Anything to get rid of those calories.

When Dean returned, Sam still hadn't taken a bite of his food, but there was now a chunk of it missing. John hadn't paid attention, as he was too busy making sure Dean didn't get any of the beer himself.

"I'm done," Sam said, standing from the table and moving to leave the room.

"Why?" Dean asked, preventing his brother from leaving. All eyes were now on the youngest Winchester.

"I still need to finish revising my essay and I have a ton of homework," Sam fibbed.

"Then you should have done it earlier," Dean said. "We're eating dinner as a family for the first time in a long time and I want to make sure you get a good dinner in you."

"Dean, I'm really bus…"

"Sit down!" Dean shouted. "You haven't had a bite of your food."

"I'm not gonna eat it, Dean!" Sam shouted right back to his brother. "Fuck, you just don't get it!"

"I get it, Sam!" Dean stood from the table. "I get that you don't want to eat because of your manorexia or what the fuck ever!"

"Boys!" John shouted over both of them. "Dean, you don't need to freak out over Sam's little problem, okay?"

"I don't have a problem!"

"I just mean whatever's going on with you, okay?" John sighed. "Look, Dean, your brother is obviously fine, there's nothing to worry about."

"He's obviously not fine, dad! If you don't take him to the doctor, I'll throw him in the damn car and do it myself!" Dean shouted. He rarely shouted at their father. It was a sign that he was truly worried.

"Fine, pack up the food. Sam, get in the car," John ordered.

"No!" Sam defied.

"Samuel Winchester, this is an order. Get your ass in the damn car so we can prove to your brother that nothing is wrong!" John resorted to shouting at his youngest son.

"There's nothing wrong with me!" Sam practically screamed. "You guys are just jealous because I'm losing weight and you're not! I believe in being thin! I believe in being perfect!"

Next Update: February 24th, 2015.