SPN FIC - Chain of Custody (7.08)
Show likes to end with those conversations alongside the car. I like to take it one step further -- to the conversations that happen a little while later. In this case, two a.m. During a commercial break in Return of the Living Dead: Rave to the Grave.
"Shit," he barks, and sits bolt upright in bed. "Knew I forgot something."
CHARACTERS: Dean and Sam
GENRE: Gen
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: 7.08
LENGTH: 500 words
CHAIN OF CUSTODY
By Carol Davis
Return of the Living Dead: Rave to the Grave pauses for what ought to be its final commercial break a few minutes before two a.m. That's middle-of-the-night enough, and the muted commercials are lame enough, that Dean's mind wanders readily toward the checklist that's always made a lot more sense to him than counting sheep.
Car gassed up? Check.
Weapons cleaned and stowed? Check.
Sam back on board?
Check.
The Annual Pilgrimage to Vegas (of which this was the first) got cut short, but if you ignore all the miles he had to cover to retrieve Sam, it went reasonably okay. He had a lucky run at blackjack, and ended up with a nice little wad of dough in his pocket.
That he had to spend on gas, so he could drive to freaking Delaware.
"Shit," he barks, and sits bolt upright in bed.
Sam, TV remote in hand, glances over at him and frowns. "What?"
"Knew I forgot something."
Sam hikes a brow.
"Thing's worth money. Should've gotten it back. Dammit."
It's the middle of the night. That introductory expletive jogged Sam into being fully awake, but it's obvious he was figuring on needing to fight something. Or run from something. Or at the very least, research something.
Not…this.
"Twenty questions?" he sighs. "Really?"
"Becky," Dean says.
Sam sighs.
"She's got my frigging waffle iron. It ain't right."
"Your -"
"Thing's worth money, goddammit."
"Then…you paid for it?"
"No," Dean sputters. "Not exactly. But that ain't the point. She's supposed to get rewarded for that whole escapade? How is that appropriate?"
Sam scowls into the flickering light of the TV, no doubt working up a good solid bitch about being the one who got kidnapped. The one who was held prisoner by Chuck Shurley's nutball castoff girlfriend.
And was beaned over the head by something he says might have been the waffle iron.
The commercial break's ending when Sam's bitchface starts to morph into a smile.
"Dude," he says.
He doesn't sound angry.
"What?" Dean complains.
"You bought me a waffle iron."
There's not a whole lot Dean can say in response to that, because the person who told him that a waffle iron was an appropriate wedding gift doesn't get mentioned any more. Nor does the fact that he felt kind of warm and fuzzy the day he picked out his first waffle iron, in the housewares section at Sears, after said unmentionable person told him he'd done a good job.
"I was tryin' -" is all he manages to say, and he lets it trail off.
Over in the other bed, Sam's still smiling, but it looks a little wistful now. A little nostalgic.
Maybe Sam's thinking of somebody else who almost never gets mentioned any more.
"I appreciate it, man," Sam says quietly.
The movie's back on.
"Should've gotten it back," Dean grouses. "The thing's worth money."
"Duly noted," Sam replies, and he presses the button on the remote to take the TV back off Mute.
* * * * *
"Shit," he barks, and sits bolt upright in bed. "Knew I forgot something."
CHARACTERS: Dean and Sam
GENRE: Gen
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: 7.08
LENGTH: 500 words
CHAIN OF CUSTODY
By Carol Davis
Return of the Living Dead: Rave to the Grave pauses for what ought to be its final commercial break a few minutes before two a.m. That's middle-of-the-night enough, and the muted commercials are lame enough, that Dean's mind wanders readily toward the checklist that's always made a lot more sense to him than counting sheep.
Car gassed up? Check.
Weapons cleaned and stowed? Check.
Sam back on board?
Check.
The Annual Pilgrimage to Vegas (of which this was the first) got cut short, but if you ignore all the miles he had to cover to retrieve Sam, it went reasonably okay. He had a lucky run at blackjack, and ended up with a nice little wad of dough in his pocket.
That he had to spend on gas, so he could drive to freaking Delaware.
"Shit," he barks, and sits bolt upright in bed.
Sam, TV remote in hand, glances over at him and frowns. "What?"
"Knew I forgot something."
Sam hikes a brow.
"Thing's worth money. Should've gotten it back. Dammit."
It's the middle of the night. That introductory expletive jogged Sam into being fully awake, but it's obvious he was figuring on needing to fight something. Or run from something. Or at the very least, research something.
Not…this.
"Twenty questions?" he sighs. "Really?"
"Becky," Dean says.
Sam sighs.
"She's got my frigging waffle iron. It ain't right."
"Your -"
"Thing's worth money, goddammit."
"Then…you paid for it?"
"No," Dean sputters. "Not exactly. But that ain't the point. She's supposed to get rewarded for that whole escapade? How is that appropriate?"
Sam scowls into the flickering light of the TV, no doubt working up a good solid bitch about being the one who got kidnapped. The one who was held prisoner by Chuck Shurley's nutball castoff girlfriend.
And was beaned over the head by something he says might have been the waffle iron.
The commercial break's ending when Sam's bitchface starts to morph into a smile.
"Dude," he says.
He doesn't sound angry.
"What?" Dean complains.
"You bought me a waffle iron."
There's not a whole lot Dean can say in response to that, because the person who told him that a waffle iron was an appropriate wedding gift doesn't get mentioned any more. Nor does the fact that he felt kind of warm and fuzzy the day he picked out his first waffle iron, in the housewares section at Sears, after said unmentionable person told him he'd done a good job.
"I was tryin' -" is all he manages to say, and he lets it trail off.
Over in the other bed, Sam's still smiling, but it looks a little wistful now. A little nostalgic.
Maybe Sam's thinking of somebody else who almost never gets mentioned any more.
"I appreciate it, man," Sam says quietly.
The movie's back on.
"Should've gotten it back," Dean grouses. "The thing's worth money."
"Duly noted," Sam replies, and he presses the button on the remote to take the TV back off Mute.
* * * * *