SPN FIC - You Didn't Kill Any Butterflies, Did You?
Just a little bit of silliness - boys and pranks, and the fallout of a trip to the past.
CHARACTERS: Dean and Sam
GENRE: Gen
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: Nothing current
LENGTH: 376 words
YOU DIDN'T KILL ANY BUTTERFLIES, DID YOU?
By Carol Davis
Simple question, right?
"You want Subway?"
Over the years, Sam's gotten some really bizarre answers to the most ordinary of questions, particularly when Dean's sick, or drunk, or recovering from a head injury. Right now, none of those things is in play, so there's no good explanation for Dean's completely bewildered look, or his "Dude. We have a car."
"What does having a car have to do with anything?"
"Public transportation?" Dean says. Then: "They have a subway in this town? Like…in New York?"
"Seriously, man. What are you talking about?"
"What are you talking about?"
Frowning, Sam points to a big sign at the far end of the strip mall. "Subway? Lunch? Five-dollar foot-long?"
And Dean still looks confused.
Yeah, that's not good. "How many fingers am I holding up?" Sam demands, waving a hand close to his brother's face, mildly relieved when Dean swats it away, because that's something. Not much, but something, and these days, every little bit counts. "You honestly don't know what I'm talking about? Subway? The sandwich shop, man. They're nationwide. We've gotten food there like eight thousand times."
"I don't -" Dean murmurs.
It makes sense, suddenly. No good kind of sense, but ass-backwards-and-upside-down is pretty much the norm in their world.
Dean took a trip to 1944 a few days ago.
"Dean," Sam says slowly. "Did you - while you were in the past…did you change anything?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"How am I supposed to be sure?"
"You have no memory of a giant nationwide sandwich chain called Subway."
"Quiznos. I know Quiznos."
"My God. Oh my God, man. If this is different - what else did you change?"
Moving bit by bit, as if he's scared of what might lie outside the car, Dean pushes the door open and climbs out. When Sam joins him, he's staring across the parking lot at the store in question, shoulders bunched, his entire face a mask of worry.
Then he turns, and there's a grin in his eyes. "Gotcha," he chuckles.
For a minute, Sam's so furious he can't form words. The first ones he can manage to string together are "You ASS."
"Yeah," Dean says, "but I'm cute."
Then he sprints off toward the store with Sam in hot pursuit.
* * * * *
CHARACTERS: Dean and Sam
GENRE: Gen
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: Nothing current
LENGTH: 376 words
YOU DIDN'T KILL ANY BUTTERFLIES, DID YOU?
By Carol Davis
Simple question, right?
"You want Subway?"
Over the years, Sam's gotten some really bizarre answers to the most ordinary of questions, particularly when Dean's sick, or drunk, or recovering from a head injury. Right now, none of those things is in play, so there's no good explanation for Dean's completely bewildered look, or his "Dude. We have a car."
"What does having a car have to do with anything?"
"Public transportation?" Dean says. Then: "They have a subway in this town? Like…in New York?"
"Seriously, man. What are you talking about?"
"What are you talking about?"
Frowning, Sam points to a big sign at the far end of the strip mall. "Subway? Lunch? Five-dollar foot-long?"
And Dean still looks confused.
Yeah, that's not good. "How many fingers am I holding up?" Sam demands, waving a hand close to his brother's face, mildly relieved when Dean swats it away, because that's something. Not much, but something, and these days, every little bit counts. "You honestly don't know what I'm talking about? Subway? The sandwich shop, man. They're nationwide. We've gotten food there like eight thousand times."
"I don't -" Dean murmurs.
It makes sense, suddenly. No good kind of sense, but ass-backwards-and-upside-down is pretty much the norm in their world.
Dean took a trip to 1944 a few days ago.
"Dean," Sam says slowly. "Did you - while you were in the past…did you change anything?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"How am I supposed to be sure?"
"You have no memory of a giant nationwide sandwich chain called Subway."
"Quiznos. I know Quiznos."
"My God. Oh my God, man. If this is different - what else did you change?"
Moving bit by bit, as if he's scared of what might lie outside the car, Dean pushes the door open and climbs out. When Sam joins him, he's staring across the parking lot at the store in question, shoulders bunched, his entire face a mask of worry.
Then he turns, and there's a grin in his eyes. "Gotcha," he chuckles.
For a minute, Sam's so furious he can't form words. The first ones he can manage to string together are "You ASS."
"Yeah," Dean says, "but I'm cute."
Then he sprints off toward the store with Sam in hot pursuit.
* * * * *