Title: Stuck in the Middle
with You
Author: luvspnl
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam
Minx Prompt #34: shopping,
arguing, urban legend
Implement: hand
Summary: Sam gets
whiny. Dean can’t block him out any more.
Author's Notes/Warnings: Song title from Steve Miller Band.
Disclaimer: Don’t own.
Sam was whining nonstop now for close to three hours. It was driving Dean mad.
Dean was trying to block him out, but he just couldn’t anymore.
It had all started when they’d been at a local Target. Dean was getting the things they needed to replenish their stocks and Sam was getting them new clothes to replace their bloodied and torn ones.
That’s how they usually did it, because Dean didn’t have the patience to go looking for deals and sizes and colors. He just liked things plain and simple, but stores weren’t geared towards that, so Sammy did it.
It was when they’d met up with each other, and Dean had suggested grabbing some snacks for the road figuring they could save some time if they didn’t have to stop to eat, that they started arguing.
Apparently, Sam didn’t see how chips and candy were substitutes for a meal.
“Dude, who cares? It’s food.”
“It’s junk food. Which is barely food, Dean.”
“It’s on that pyramid thing,” Dean pointed out with a smile.
He tossed another bag of chips into the cart and started heading for some cookies.
“Yeah, for the things to avoid or eating sparsely. Not to make a whole meal out of it!”
“Oo, looky there. Fig Newton’s! Fruit! There, quit your bitching.”
Sam sighed.
“Not fruit! Cookies. Those are still cookies Dean!”
“We got some fruit roll ups, man I haven’t had these in years! Hey, look at these gummies, they’re shaped like burgers. Sweet!”
Sam crossed his arms over his chest and tried to ignore all the crap Dean was tossing into the cart.
“You can’t buy all that!”
“And why not? I’m actually going to pay for it. You know, cash.”
“You’re willing to pay cash for early diabetes!”
Dean just gave him a look, hoping his brother would get the point to shut with the crap.
Sam ignored it.
“I shouldn’t have to eat all that stuff, just because you want it.”
“Well, I’m the one paying, so-
“That’s not fair. You take all the money.”
“Hey! I give you some.”
“Barely.”
“Well, it’s not like you need it. Sam, you grew up on Doritos and you turned out fine. Trust me, you’ll live.”
They walked away from the cookie isle and headed into the beverage aisle.
“I’m fine, because for the past six years I’ve been looking after what I eat. And you can’t possibly drink that much Pepsi! Do you know how much sugar that has?”
“It’s like caffeine on the go, Sammy. And if you want to grab some mineral water or whatever, go ahead.”
Sam grabbed some Brisk ice tea instead.
“At least put back the Cool Ranch, you know I hate that smell.”
Dean glanced over at his brother and sighed. This trip was an awful lot like when they were younger. Sam was always picky and John would be on his last strand of patience, trying not to smack the kid one. Sometimes though, Sammy did earn it.
When they had finally left the store, Dean was thankful, thinking that that was all done and behind them.
After about thirty minutes on the road, however, Sam started complaining again.
It started like it always did, with Dean’s music. Why couldn’t he listen to something after, say 1980? Why did he have to hear it so loud? Why couldn’t he just upgrade to CDs already?
Dean ignored him, because that argument was never new.
An hour after those complaints, Sam started saying how he needed to stretch his legs. He started cursing out the Impala for not being designed for his needs.
He wanted Dean to pull over so that he could stretch some, but Dean figured he’d stretched enough in the forty five minutes that they had been in the store.
That made Sam angry.
Walking around a store wasn’t the same as stretching, he said. He needed to get the kinks out of his neck and his knees were stiffing up. Why couldn’t Dean just stop for like two minutes?
“Because, that’s two minutes we don’t have, Sam. I’m trying to make up time, not waste it.”
“So my being able to move later is wasting your time. Sorry.”
Sam didn’t sound sorry. He sounded very pissed. And when Sam was pissed, his favorite pastime was to make others miserable.
So two hours after leaving Target, Sam started to do the one thing that he knew drove Dean the most crazy while they were in the car, his baby, and he was driving. Sam took the nail clipper from his key change and started clipping his nails.
See, Dean called him a girl for more than just his touchy-feeliness.
Dean ignored Sam, for the most part. He kept glaring at his brother, but he wasn’t going to say anything. Not one damn thing, because that was what Sammy wanted.
And Dean wasn’t about to lose this one. Oh no.
Sam was about done his third finger and Dean was certain that he was developing a tick from the click clickity noise. He hated that noise! And then, to make matters really really bad, his little brother’s fingernails were falling all over his car. His baby!
But that was okay, because Dean planned on making his brother vacuum, wash and wax the car for the next month! How you like them apples?!
By the time that Sam was getting started on his second hand, with his left hand no less!, Dean had had it.
“So help me Sam, if you don’t stop with that thing right now, I’m going to kick your ass!”
Sam didn’t even bother to hide his satisfied smile.
“But Dean, I’m not done yet. It’ll all look weird if I just stop now!”
“You’re a big boy, you can handle it.”
“But it might get dangerous, you know. These are kind of sharp.”
Dean’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. It was rare that he drove with both of his hands on it, but oh man he needed to.
“I’m warning you Sam.”
“Please,” Sam scoffed.
“You’re going to be sorry, Sammy. You better knock it off!”
“I’m almost done,” Sam tried one more time, but he held the clipper still.
“I will end you if you continue. I will shove you out of my car and run you over! So help me!”
Sam laughed slightly and Dean turned to give him the full power of his glare.
“Alright, alright! Wouldn’t want your precious rolling metal to get its rims bent all out of shape.”
Sam was so lucky Dean decided to ignore him again.
So, there they were, three hours in and Sam started to whine about how bored he was. He wanted Dean to stop so that he could grab a book he’d stuffed into his bag. Bobby had mentioned it to him and he had finally found it. It was apparently really cool, filled with all these kinds of urban legends and folklores from not just all over the country, but from all over the world.
“Sorry, Sammy,” Dean said, though he wasn’t really. “We’re about half an hour out and we’re not going to stop now.”
“Well, I’ve got to piss anyway. So you have to stop. Might as well let me grab the book.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have had four cans of Brisk, now should you?”
“Fine then, I’ll piss all over the car. Not the first time I’ve done it.”
“If you dare piss in this car again, I will end you!”
“Yeah, heard that already.”
“I mean it! I’ll kick your ass!”
“Then stop the car, I’ll piss, grab my book, and I won’t bother you for the rest of the drive. I think it’s a win-win.”
“We just had to stop to fill her up, Sammy. I asked you if you needed anything else, but you said no. So if you could hold it then, you can hold it now.”
“I didn’t have to go then.”
“That didn’t work on Dad, and it sure as hell isn’t going to work on me!”
“I’m not just saying, Dean! I really need to go!”
“Well, you’re twenty five; you know how to hold it! Cross your damn legs or something!”
“I can barely move them in this piece of crap!”
“You know what, I’m so close to stopping right now, ugh!”
“Then do it!”
“You know what! I will!”
Sam however, wasn’t going to get what he had wanted. No, because Dean was close to stopping because he was going to beat his brother’s ass!
Dean pulled over to the side of the road and stopped the car.
“About damn time!”
“Shut up!” Dean said, leaping out of the car.
Sam opened the door and slowly started to get out. His legs really did hurt.
“Come on, out!”
“I’m coming. Damn! First you don’t want to stop, now you won’t give me two seconds to get up!”
As soon as Sam got his lazy butt out of the car, Dean grabbed his arm and tugged him to the back of the car.
“Dean? Hey, let go of me. Hey!”
“Stay there!” Dean said, shoving Sam face down over the trunk.
“What are you doing?!”
Dean started smacking Sam instantly. He tried to land the most amounts of smacks with the greatest amount of power he could.
Now he knew why Dad had to keep stopping on the side of the road for all those years. Between him and Sam, John was going mad!
“You freaking brat! I told you to can it! You know I can’t drive like this! You know all that shit drives me crazy!”
“Ow, okay Dean!”
“If you start up again, I’m going to take my belt to your ass, so help you!” Dean said, landing a furry of swats to Sam’s sit spots.
“Ow OW! Okay! Dean, OKAY! I won’t! I promise! I’m done!”
“Good then!” Dean said, landing two more swats and backing up.
He felt a lot better.
“Ow,” Sam said again. Standing up, he looked over at his brother and then back to his feet.
Dean stepped forward and hugged his brother.
“Alright, we’re good. I’m not mad. Just, don’t try and piss me off anymore, okay?”
Sam nodded.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Good. Now, go piss and grab your book.”
Sam shuffled in place. Dean released him.
“You didn’t have to piss, did you?”
Sam shook his head no.
Dean groaned, looking up to the heavens and hoping his father wasn’t laughing at the hilarity of it all.
“Grab your damn book and get your bratty ass back in that car.”
“I can still get it?”
“Sure,” Dean smiled. “You’re the one that’s going to have to sit on that sore bottom of yours until you finish that book. And then, you’re vacuuming my car.”
END.