Supernatural Shorts

A Day Off in the Life of a Winchester

"Three hundred and sixty-five!" Sam exclaimed, with a surprising amount of enthusiasm for 6 AM, as he appeared in the kitchen, Dean was sitting finishing a leftover burger. "Sam; I'm eating and it's too early for math." After rolling his eyes Sam shook his head and replied, "No, Dean okay look all year we work cases back to back and barely have any actual downtime. Yes, we sleep for two or three days at a time sometimes but I'm talking real vacation here." Dean who was in mid-bite stopped put the half-eaten burger down and looked at Sam again. "Sammy, I love this whole vibe you got going lately but seriously man someone could choke on a piece of sausage or eat a bad taco." "That's not funny Dean," Sam said, he tried not to be upset by his brother's joke but by Dean's amusement over the endless Tuesday incident with the Trickster where Sam was forced to watch his brother die on an endless loop over and over.

Dean was somehow always able to find a way to bring up what happened as a joke knowing how much Sam hated it. "I'm sorry okay, look my point is that people don't know about what we do so it's not like we can just call in sick and have them handle it." "I get that but we have three hundred and sixty-five days in a year and we don't ever really have time to stop, working sometimes thirty-six hours straight-" "What did I just say about math?" Dean groaned, "Dude what's up with you? It's not like you've never wanted a day off before I don't get it." Frustrated Sam pulled a glass from the cabinet and poured himself a glass of milk waiting impatiently for his brother to respond "I just know that the second we let our guard down we're going right back to work." "We can just get Garth or someone else to handle it," Sam whined, Dean's expression quickly went from absent to quizzical but he said nothing, silence filled the kitchen before Sam spoke up. "Hey, is that my burger?" Like a deer headlights, mouth full of bread and meat Dean sheepishly replied, "Maybe..." then the phone rang and Dean jumped at the chance to answer. "Hey Garth, what's up?" Rolling his eyes Sam retreated to his room.

Later that day after the subject of a vacation had long been dropped, Sam knocked lightly on Dean's bedroom door before opening it, "Dean have you seen my laptop?" slamming the laptop shut Dean looked up, "What is it? What's up?" "Uh... There's a case. Everything's already loaded up. I was just looking for my computer." Dean still seemed jumpy when he replied "Okay, just give me a minute."

The boys hadn't been on the road all of ten minutes before Sam fell asleep. After waking up he noticed that the sky had turned dark. "How long was I out?" He asked his brother while wiping his eyes. "Four hours, you were drooling, it was adorable." Dean teased, smirking "Shut up." Sam laughed, stretching to wake up before noticing the turn. "Wait... I think you just missed the exit." "Uhh" Dean barely flinched as he continued driving "Dean, the case!" "Calm down Sammy, we're just taking a short detour."

Less than five minutes later Dean swiftly parks Baby at the closest stop to the entrance. "What are we doing here?" As the engine died Dean stayed silent. "Do you remember the ball and glove Dad surprised us with when he came back from a hunt when you were little?" Dean finally said. "Oh yeah! Didn't I break a window of something?" "You sure did, we're both lucky you missed your actual target." Dean chuckled sounding amused and kind of proud. "Yeah.." Sam agreed as he looked across the street at the Hoglund Stadium. "Why were you so mad?" Dean asked, Sam thought for a minute trying to remember what happened, but finally the memory surfaced. "You broke my favorite batman's arm off," Sam told him, it had surprised him his memory went that far back. "And you played with him for the next four years." Dean smirked "You know you probably deserved it right?" "Dean, I was five." Sam sounded annoyed but Dean knew better when he saw him crack a smile, they did that a lot, the banter back and forth with each other was something they always engaged in, it was something so natural that neither of them ever really ever took it the wrong way, because in the end if they did ever actually offend one another(which only rarely happened) it didn't matter, they'd get over it.

"Okay, let's go." Dean said suddenly exiting the impala, Sam followed him watching him as he opened the trunk and looked back at him, "Sam, can you hold this?" Nodding Sam caught the old baseball Dean tossed to him. "Dude... No way! You kept it." Dean grinned, "Sure did, and look..." he lifted his hand revealing the glove, "Fits like a glove." He said as he put it on, remembering how big the glove was on him when he had first gotten it at age eight. "Terrible joke." Shutting the trunk back Dean hit the inside of the glove with his other hand and held his hands out ready to catch the ball when Sam threw it back, "I got a lot of those." Once the boys got to the gates Dean started the climb, "Dean, what are you doing?" "Looking back down at him Dean looked almost shocked." "You didn't think I brought you out here just so we could toss a ball around in the parking lot did you?" Dean hopped down and was now on the opposite side of the fence. "Come on Sammy, live a little." "Whose taking care of the case?" Sam questioned still nervous about the job they were slacking off from. "Garth has it all under control, now..." Dean ran into the dugout, and when he came back he was swinging a baseball bat; "Let's play ball!"

{~}

"Hey, better batter! Hey, better, batter swing!" Dean teased from the pitcher's mound "Dean, just pitch it will ya?!" Sam shot back, "Oh woah, seems I've hit a nerve... Come on college boy, show me whatcha got." After waiting a second Dean pulled his arm back and hurdled the ball forward. Sam waited patiently as the ball got closer and then swung. He hadn't hit a baseball in years but the sound was something he wouldn't forget. The ball smacked against the bat as he drove it through sending it flying into the stands. "Home Run! And the crowd goes wild!" Sam heard Dean yelling as he took a victory lap around each base pumping his fists in the air while barely able to catch his breath, his sides growing sore.

After hours of playing the boys finally made the drive back to the bunker. Sam made his way down the hall past the bedroom before stopping when he spotted Dean leaving his room. "Well I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted and I could probably sleep for the next week." "What were you doing in my room?" Completely ignoring him Dean suddenly turned serious, "I'm sorry about Batman..." stunned and slightly confused as to what he was referring to Sam shook his head "oh, it's okay Dean we were kids, it was stupid." "I know and I don't even really remember what happened but whatever went down I never apologized for it." When he realized Dean meant it Sam gave a half smile. "Well thanks, Dean, I forgive you." Sam said reassuringly "I'm sorry for almost taking you out with a baseball." "It's all good. Don't sweat it." Now go get some rest we have a long day tomorrow." Dean ordered, "Sure thing coach." Before he could turn into his bedroom Dean stopped him, "If we ever decide to play hooky again and someone slips in the shower, it's on you, Pal." This being the third reference to what happened with the trickster Sam just smirked, nodding in agreement, "You're ridiculous."

Once in his room, Sam shut the door behind him, as he headed to the bed he noticed that a box that usually stayed on a shelf was now on his bed.
Laughing to himself he went over and opened the wooden box inside there was a smaller locked box that had once lived forgotten in the basement of their old house after the night of November 2, 1983, the night Sam and Dean's mom was tragically killed. Flipping the latch up he quickly discovered what Dean had been doing. "No way..." Inside in the middle surrounded by old photos of the boys as kids, a deck of playing cards, a toy soldier, and other memories laying next to the baseball that Sammy used at five to shatter a motel window, and Batman, his right arm bent up as if he were waving... Where had Dean been keeping him all these years?