𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙷𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛[𝙳.𝚆]

068

"My mom's resting. She's pretty wrecked."

"Understandable." I hum.

"All these people kept coming with, like, casseroles. I finally had to tell them all to go away. You know, 'cause nothing says 'I'm sorry' like a tuna casserole." Max jokes lightly. I chuckle with a nod. He awkwardly gestures for us to sit as he moves to sit on the chair across from the sofa. I squeeze myself between Sam and Dean on the sofa and pull at the tunic with a small huff.

I missed my street clothes.

"How you holding up?" Sam asks Max after clearing his throat.

"I'm okay." Max weakly answers.

"Were your dad and uncle close?" I ask.

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, they were brothers. They used to hang out all the time when I was little."

"When you were little?" I repeat questionably.

"Yeah, we used to be neighbors when I was a kid. We lived across town in this house, and Uncle Roger lived next door, so he was over all the time." Max explains, forcing a small wobbly smile onto his face.

"I see."

"So, how was it in that house when you were a kid?" Sam asks. I notice a tiny twitch in Max's right eye when Sam asks the question. Max shrugs.

"Fine." He says shortly. His eyes flicker between the three of us. "Why?"

"All good memories? You remember anything...unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle maybe?" Dean speaks up. Max presses his lips into a flat line, shaking his head the slightest bit.

"Why do you—why do you ask?" He asks almost nervously. I furrow my brows, tilting my head a little. It seemed like he was...scared.

"Just a question." Dean replies.

"No, there was nothing. We were totally normal...happy." Max clearly lies. My lips tilt downwards as I watch Max try to collect himself right in front of my eyes.

"Good." Dean glances at Sam and I. "That's good." He says again. I clear my throat in an attempt to clear the tense air.

"Well, I'm sure you're very tired. We should probably get going, Fathers. Let him rest."

"Right." Sam says immediately. He smiles at Max. "Thanks."

As soon as we walk down the patio of the Miller house, I yank the coif off my head and scratch my hair with a relieved sigh.

"Gosh, this thing is killer."

"You only wore it for five minutes." Sam chuckles.

"Yeah, and it was awful. I have respect for nuns, having to wear these for so many hours." I lift up the coif, scoffing.

"Hey, you're still the cutest nun I've ever seen." Dean flirts, throwing an arm over my shoulders. I laugh, pushing his side.

"You don't look too bad yourself, Father."

"You're having way too much fun with that word." Sam scrunches his nose in discomfort. I smile.

"Anyway, can we talk about the way Max was practically lying out of his ass in there?"

"Yeah, nobody's family is totally normal and happy. You see when he was talking about his old house?" Dean asks.

"He sounded scared." Sam states, rounding the Impala.