lizadork

"Dude, you've been sitting there brooding like a teenage zombie for the last seventy-two hours. Armageddon's over, rejoice!" Dean glances at him sidelong. "Man, c'mon. We just KO'd the biggest jihad in the history of mankind, let loose a little. What's going on with you?" Sam shrugs and he frowns, feels the knot in his stomach tighten and he's not sure where he's going anymore, not sure what he meant to say or wants to ask or needs to hear. For the first time since he was nine and a co-pilot, Dean feels the near-irrepressible urge to unfold a map and trace sure lines with a finger, just to make certain. He waits but Sam doesn't say anything (big fucking surprise - it's been shrugs and two-word replies and vacant expressions for miles now) and so he shrugs. "I was thinking we should go somewhere to celebrate. We've earned some serious vacation days, might as well use 'em. Whaddaya think?"

Nothing. Maybe Sam didn't hear him. Maybe Sam doesn't care. Dean bites down and his teeth press at each other and yank his jaw tight. "Anywhere you want Sammy. We can go anywhere. Where do you wanna go?"

His answer is a burst of wind in his face as Sam rolls his window down further, the air currents buffering loudly in the open space. It's hot out.

"Yeah, okay. Just think about it."

lizadork