Family Don't End With Blood /Destiel//Sabriel//Michifer

Hospitals, Textbooks and Milkshakes

"Mind if I ask what that was about?"  Dean deposited the shopping on the kitchen table, ignoring a warning look from his brother; Jody had only just left.

"The Sheriff's a friend and she's going through a rough patch, s'all."  Bobby paused. "In fact, now you mention it, there might be something you three can do to help."

"Uh, we didn't—"

Sam kicked his brother under the table.

"The Sheriff's daughter isn't too well at the moment and, from what Jody says, she hasn't got many friends either.  Perhaps you three could pay her a visit?"

"We can do that."  Sam assured.

"Dude, we don't even know her—"

Another kick cut him off.

Bobby nodded appreciatively, stepping outside to leave Jody a voice message.

~~

"What was that?"  Sam snapped, following Dean up the stairs and into his room.

"What do you mean 'what was that.'  You just talked us into visiting some random stranger."

"So?"  Elsa stood in the doorway, her hands shoved into her jean pockets.  "Why shouldn't we go?"

"Look, I mean no disrespect to this girl, but is she honestly going to appreciate some strangers going over and giving her the sympathy vote?  What good will that actually do?"

"It could give her some company," Sam sighed in exasperation. 

"All I'm saying is, if it were me—"

"Well it's not."  Sam turned and left the room, going directly to his own and shutting the door firmly behind him.

"What's got his panties in a twist?"  As usual, Dean was trying to use humour to cover the fact that he seemed to think he'd said the wrong thing. 

Elsa shrugged. "I don't know.  But I really think we should visit Alex."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it, you're on 'team Sammy.'"

"Don't be ridiculous." She stretched in an almost cat-like manner and moved from the doorway.  "I'm on team 'I want a milkshake.'  I'll be downstairs if you need me."

Dean rolled his eyes and hid a smile; as soon as he heard his sister's footsteps on the stairs, he got up and closed his door.  He wandered back to his bed, removed a small knife from under his pillow and turned it slowly, methodically, in his hands.  The light from the window caught the blade's edge and reflected in broken patterns across the walls.

Emergencies only.

He placed the knife back in its hidden position and cursed. This was on John, for forcing him to live in paranoia of the paranormal, which probably didn't even exist, for the majority of his life. 

Quietly, he considered texting Cas.

He decided against it.

Instead, he kept thinking about Alex.  He hadn't meant to be rude or insensitive but, practically, what would a visit do? Magically cure her?  Of course not.  If he was being honest with himself, Dean knew the real reason why he didn't want to visit.