I'm finally packed and later today I will be on a plane to Cairo! I am so excited for this trip, even though I have that funny feeling in my tummy like I'm going to get sick (which I do every time I go to India, and pretty much whenever I travel anywhere that requires a plane journey).
Anyway, in between packing and rewatching Pushing Daisies and Soldier's Girl and The Fall - yes, I am in love with Lee Pace, why do you ask? - and plotting out the things I need to do later (dishes, watering plants, taking out trash, etc.), I managed to write a little something.
It's a double-drabble set in the Rapture 'verse, a little more implied Sam/Pete. Happy birthday, Sam!
"Haircut" + "Brink"
Dad finishes the trim he's giving to Dean's hair and brushes the stray hairs off him with the side of one hard hand. The slap he gives the back of Dean's neck, right over some scratches, sounds loud like a shotgun blast.
"Sonofabitch!" Dean yelps, rubbing the spot. "What, you're upset that I'm the handsomest devil around?"
"What I'm worried about," Dad says, dry as dust, "is that every last one of your girlfriends feels the need to take a chunk out of you."
"Everybody wants a keepsake," Dean says with a smirk, but Dad doesn't look appeased.
"You can't be anything less than a hundred percent, Dean. I'm not gonna say you can't have your fun, but I can't be wondering if you're going to be hobbled on our next hunt because of what you've gotten up to with your latest girl." He pushes Dean's shoulder and beckons Sam forward. "Sam here isn't running around black and blue even though he got his girl."
Sam swallows. How much does Dean know? Dean flicks a glance at him and nods. "Got it, Dad."
Sam sits in the chair.
Dad's hands are warm in his hair, but Sam can't help shivering.
As always, I'd love to hear what you think.