<< Part I
Five minutes into their journey back to the Impala Dean snickers.
“Nothing, just...” he smirks as he glances at his brother. “It’s a bit fitting don’t you think?”
Sam knows Dean’s setting him up for something; something he’s not going to like if the smirk is any indication. He sighs. “What?”
“The sasquatch is named Sam.”
“A-ha,” Sam replies. He speeds up his pace, hoping to outrun the first of what’s sure to be many jokes on the subject.
“Oh, like you can jus-huah!”
Sam stops in his tracks and retraces his steps to find his brother sprawled on the ground. He waits until Dean looks up at him before he raises an eyebrow.
“Shuddup.” Dean drawls, brushing stray leaves and twigs off his person. When he’s done he starts looking around for something.
“Yeah, the thing that friggin’ tripped me.”
Sam really wants to make a crack about Dean’s lack of co-ordination, or his paranoid tendencies. He doesn’t though, unless the comments spark a petty insult war which he’s feeling a little too relaxed and preoccupied (mentally) to get into at the moment. So instead he just stands there with his hands in his pockets as Dean kicks up bark and disturbs the ground in search of... whatever he’s looking for.
He eventually finds it a few minutes later, and Sam will be honest, he wasn’t expecting it to be a tennis ball.
Dean rubs it against his jeans to clean the dirt off before showing it to Sam. “Think it’s the kid’s?”
“I can’t think of anyone else that would want a ball.” Sam replies.
Dean eyes it for a second before shrugging. “His loss.”
They resume walking, with Dean tossing the ball up in the air every few seconds.
When they final...