Reckless [Dean Winchester]

9. Grocery Run

9. Grocery Run

"Did you even sleep, Sam?" I ask the next morning as I drag myself into the library of the bunker-"Bat Cave" got annoying overnight. I see him at the table with books spread all around. I swear he looks as though he's trying to read two at the same time.

"Probably a few hours."

"'Probably'?" I yawn. "That sounds convincing." My stomach yells at me. "Ugh, I think we'll have to make that run today."

"Morning," comes Dean's happy response. Holy shit, he sounds content. How's that possible? All I've ever heard in his voice is malice and anger.

"Morning," Sam and I respond.

"Nice robe," I snicker as I take in Dean's gray robe and his slippers.

"The, uh, water pressure in the Letters' shower room is marvelous," Dean says in awe. "Looks like you haven't tried it yet, Tasha."

I frown. "Thank you."

"I still can't figure out how we even have water," Sam admits. "Or electricity." I'm tempted to close some of the books and reshelf them as Sam gets up and goes to a shelf for another book.

"Yep, well, I am putting that under 'ain't broke' column," Dean says dismissively. "Listen, little brother, let's not go all geek on this stuff, okay?"

"'Geek'?"

"Says the guy in the robe and slippers," I retort.

"Yeah. Yeah, I mean, don't-don't get me wrong." Dean lifts a curved sword off its display stand. "This stuff is awesome, and it looks like they ran a real tight outfit here, but I'm just saying, you know, don't, uh, don't think that they knew some big secrets that we don't know."

I watch Dean with little amusement as he strikes poses with the sword behind Sam's back. Too bad I don't have one, I'd love to kick his ass. Though I'm skilled in fencing (I took up the practice when I was a pre-teen), the skills could pass on to sword play. Sure, there would be a heightened danger risk, since we wouldn't be in protective gear and we'd be messing with swords.

"All we need is an eyepatch and a ridiculous getup for you," I tell Dean. "Maybe a peg leg, maybe not a parrot."

I bite my lip as Sam turns and Dean stops his fooling around with the sword.

"Dean," Sam says, "they were a secret society."

"Which means they made crap up and wore fezzes and sashes and swung around scimitars." He begins to run his finger along the blade. "They probably didn't even sharp-" I'm holding back a laugh. "That's very sharp."

"Now you know better than to touch sharp objects," I say as he places the scimitar back onto the display. "Did your parents not teach you anything? I wouldn't put it past you to be attracted to shiny objects next."

My eyes bug a little after I realize what I've just said. Their parents are both gone, both taken by demons. But neither seem to be offended, they take it in stride. If anything, I expected Dean to get a little hostile with me. That shower is a blessing. It's put him in a better mood.

"Dean, look," says Sam, "I think we might have something here-something that could help us, help humanity. Henry certainly thought so. I mean, you know damn well we could use a break. What if we finally got one?" The brothers exchange a look. "Are you gonna take off the dead-guy robe?"