Standard Conversations
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Standard Conversations
Author: Maychorian
Characters: Sam, Dean
Category: Um...black humor?
Rating: PG13/T
Spoilers: Through 4.11
Summary: Dean is surprised by Sam's lack of surprise.
Word Count: 414
Disclaimer: Pretty sure they’re not mine.
Author’s Note: I'm sorry about this, but...I can't help it.
Standard Conversations
"Sammy, you never look shocked anymore."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I mean, you were the first time, and that was great. But ever since then, no joy. You just look kinda constipated. Is your burger okay?"
"My burger's fine. What were you talking about? I kinda lost track."
"You know, it was the standard post-hunt talk. We stand and stare at nothing for awhile, and I think about the parallels with my situation, and then I give you a tiny bit more information, and you look all sad and sorry for me and I get upset and then I don't talk about it anymore. That talk?"
"Oh. OH! Yes. That. Sorry, Dean. I was paying attention, I promise."
"Really? I'm not feeling it."
"Yeah, last week, when you said you named your favorite whip Marcie? I was totally with you on that one."
"Right, yeah. That was a good one. You looked like you were going to be sick."
"I was! I threw up a little bit in my mouth. And the Sunday before that, what was it you told me...?"
"Um, the hellpuppy?"
"Yes, the hellpuppy! The hellpuppy that slept in the pile of organs you cut out of victims' bodies."
"Yeah. It was cute. Little weeny nose peeking over the kidneys, twitching as it slept."
"I was totally grossed out that time, cross my heart."
"I thought you were."
"And the time about how you won some sort of award for 'Hellish Creativity.' Big golden star thing with dripping red letters, hung on your wall for the rest of the decade? That was bad. Really, really awful."
"Oh, yeah! That thing was cool. In a, um, really awful, terrible, nasty way, that is."
"Of course. Completely sickened me. I had nightmares. Well, not actually, since you're the one who has all the nightmares now. Figuratively, though. That was a really hard confession. I was very shocked."
"But not today? I just told you that I enjoyed it, man. That doesn't bother you?"
"Well, yeah, of course. A little. But I was already kind of getting that idea. It's okay, Dean, really. You know you can tell me anything, right?"
"Yeah, I know. I appreciate it, baby brother."
"Anytime. Eat your burger."
"Okay. Thanks for remembering the extra onions."
"No problem, man. I'd do anything for you. I'll even promise to be a little more shocked next time, if it'll make you feel better."
"Yeah, that would be nice."
"Consider it done."
(End)
Title: Standard Conversations
Author: Maychorian
Characters: Sam, Dean
Category: Um...black humor?
Rating: PG13/T
Spoilers: Through 4.11
Summary: Dean is surprised by Sam's lack of surprise.
Word Count: 414
Disclaimer: Pretty sure they’re not mine.
Author’s Note: I'm sorry about this, but...I can't help it.
Standard Conversations
"Sammy, you never look shocked anymore."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I mean, you were the first time, and that was great. But ever since then, no joy. You just look kinda constipated. Is your burger okay?"
"My burger's fine. What were you talking about? I kinda lost track."
"You know, it was the standard post-hunt talk. We stand and stare at nothing for awhile, and I think about the parallels with my situation, and then I give you a tiny bit more information, and you look all sad and sorry for me and I get upset and then I don't talk about it anymore. That talk?"
"Oh. OH! Yes. That. Sorry, Dean. I was paying attention, I promise."
"Really? I'm not feeling it."
"Yeah, last week, when you said you named your favorite whip Marcie? I was totally with you on that one."
"Right, yeah. That was a good one. You looked like you were going to be sick."
"I was! I threw up a little bit in my mouth. And the Sunday before that, what was it you told me...?"
"Um, the hellpuppy?"
"Yes, the hellpuppy! The hellpuppy that slept in the pile of organs you cut out of victims' bodies."
"Yeah. It was cute. Little weeny nose peeking over the kidneys, twitching as it slept."
"I was totally grossed out that time, cross my heart."
"I thought you were."
"And the time about how you won some sort of award for 'Hellish Creativity.' Big golden star thing with dripping red letters, hung on your wall for the rest of the decade? That was bad. Really, really awful."
"Oh, yeah! That thing was cool. In a, um, really awful, terrible, nasty way, that is."
"Of course. Completely sickened me. I had nightmares. Well, not actually, since you're the one who has all the nightmares now. Figuratively, though. That was a really hard confession. I was very shocked."
"But not today? I just told you that I enjoyed it, man. That doesn't bother you?"
"Well, yeah, of course. A little. But I was already kind of getting that idea. It's okay, Dean, really. You know you can tell me anything, right?"
"Yeah, I know. I appreciate it, baby brother."
"Anytime. Eat your burger."
"Okay. Thanks for remembering the extra onions."
"No problem, man. I'd do anything for you. I'll even promise to be a little more shocked next time, if it'll make you feel better."
"Yeah, that would be nice."
"Consider it done."
(End)