The One Who Sees in Black And White

Chapter 22

"What was that about?" Sam asked Dean when they were in the car alone. Dean was already on the road driving for the last five minutes. "Don't know, don't care now. I might ask Cas later." He answered him. Sam grew perplexed at Dean's slight contradiction in his sentence.

"Dean, do you—" Sam started to say before Dean interrupted him. Sam couldn't help but to feel a sort of confusion at his brother's words; it was always a yes or no answer with him, simple as that. No if and buts about it. Dean was simply like that.

"—What? Hear myself? I know, I sound like I'm a goof. Must be the fact that we get actual breakfast for the last two days and not fast food." Dean replied. Sam gave him a look, it was a mixture of confusion and awe and slight surprise. He thinks he knows what is happening.

He was growing to want to know what was going on with Bree more so than the mission. He knows Dean's head is in the game but he does seem...distracted lately. Is it possible Dean's slight crush on her those years back had grown? "Dean..." Sam said, uncertain on how to proceed.

"Yeah?" Dean had stopped real quick; they were at a fast food place. He had opened his car door and was looking back on his little brother. "Uh... if you gotta piss, bring me something to eat. Wash your hands." Sam said, trying to make a joke. Dean smirked. "No." He said, already knowing he'd bring his brother a snack...after he washed his hands.

Sam sat in the car, his head on the passenger side window. He wondered how did this happen. Was it pure hormones or was he like starting to like her more as time passed? Because they were already on day two and feelings were getting revisited. Not just them but also him.

Every time he saw Bree do something that was small and reminded him of Melanie, he couldn't help but feel a sort of pang in his heart for her. He missed Mel when he stared at females—trying to find her in them. Sure, they were soft and small and fierce like her—but not exactly like her.

It was hard to describe—what he felt. Sam let out a sigh. It's been two minutes already and he's already fantasizing about Melly being alive. He could see her... the shape of her walking down the road to the car, reaching over the window and poking it to tap on the glass, a soft smile on her lips.

Sam's mood began to brighten a little at that, it would be nice to hug her again. Well, frankly do more than just hug. He has missed that and the simple long talks they would have. It was inevitable that he'll have to find another person soon to fill that itch.

He wondered if it would fill that complete hole he had or make it worse; people always died or was left alone. Particularly the women he was with or had to leave behind. He missed being a pair with someone. Her, particularly. He had his chances multiple times and now she was like the others.

Snapping out of his head, Sam blinked a few times and focused on his surroundings; Dean has been in the stop for the last five minutes. Surely it doesn't take that long to get the stuff? Dean never stocked up on snacks much.

Getting out of the car, Sam traced the outline of his gun before running in the store. Surely Dean might be ambushed by something they dealt with. It's been done before and Sam knows he'll save him. It's the way they always done it. If not, Dean will be brought back to life. It is inevitable.