Superwholock- Broken Wings

The Date pt. 2

"Well, you were right about the food," Jay threw down her fork, patting her belly contentedly. "That was some good pork." San laughed.

"Yup," he agreed. "My rolls were pretty good."

"Yeah, I've got a few of those," Jay patted her belly again, nodding. "But at least that means I'm not a skeleton in a skinsuit." Sam choked on his water, hunching over as he shook, short barks of laughter escaping between them. Jay grinned, thumping him on the back.

People were starting to stare so, sensing the other man was uncomfortable, Jay signalled for the bill. It came quickly, the waiter bringing a glass of water to help quell Sam's hacking coughs.

"Thanks," he wheezed, reaching across the table for the bill. Jay held it high- though not sure had that would stop Sam, giraffe that he was- and shook her head.

"You got the arcade, I get dinner," she proclaimed, whipping out a wallet and a handful of cash that would've made Dean proud.

"But..." Sam spluttered. "But I'm supposed to-"

"Don't be so old fashioned. Maybe I want to treat you." She nodded to the waiter, adding a generous tip before grabbing her khaki jacket and slinging it on. Sam looked thrown, eyes wise as he grabbed his jacket.

The air was crisp and cool, little puffs of mist curling in the air when they breathed. The Impala was parked a little ways away, allowing for a comfortable silence to fall between the two. The moon shone high, wispy clouds catching the light and turning the sky a watercolour painting of blue and silver.

Sam cleated his throat. "I had a really nice time tonight."

"Yeah," Jay nodded. "It was pretty cool."

"Yeah."

The car was where he'd left it, untouched, thank Chuck- God- Sam corrected himself, horrified. Thank God. If anything happened to the Impala, Dean would literally kill him. Well, maybe not literally, but there would definitely be some misery.

The air inside was cool, slightly less so than outside. The car tumbled to life with the ignition, warm air winding through the car and curling around them. Jay yawned and stretched, her lids heavy as the long night finally caught up to her. Sam smiles to himself, flicking the headlights on and heading out onto the open road.

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He wasn't waiting up for them, no matter what anyone said. If he happened to be awake still- well, he's never had the best sleeping pattern anyway. He was watching the TV, thought, admittedly, wasn't really paying attention to it. Some show was playing, one of those real life cop ones where they drive around answering 911 calls. Interesting.

The door clicked open, Sam ambling through with a limp Jay cradled in his arms. Dean sucked in a breath, leaping to his feet, but Sam's calm expression quickly quieted his nerves. Asleep, then.

A lazy grin slowly crawled across his face. "Boy, you really wore her out."

Sam rolled his eyes, looking appropriately disgusted as he carried Jay towards her room. Dean followed him, waiting outside as Sam settled Jay in and left, closing the door softly behind him. Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Well? Don't leave me in suspense. How'd it go?"

Sam shrugged. "It went okay."

"Are you gonna go out again, or what?"

Sam shrugged again.

"Gee, thanks. So helpful. Oh, er. The Impala... is she...? She's good, yeah?" Dean couldn't contain the nervousness in his voice. He never let anyone else use his car and, though he trusted Sam with his life, he wasn't sure he trusted Sam with his baby. Sam froze, eyes wide, and Dean felt a sickening fear curl his stomach.

"Um... about that. We had an... incident... on the drive up. But it's fine!" Sam added quickly, hands raised defensively. "I'll just get her a new coat of paint and-"

"A new coat of paint?" Dean's fear quickly turned to rage as horrific images flashed through his mind, of his poor, precious baby, scraped and battered. "What did you do?"

Sam began to look nervous, as he should. He backed off a little, his raised hands never dropping. "It was a joke, Dean, a joke. It's okay. She's okay. She's fine." Dean growled, slowly advancing, like a predator stalking his prey. "Dean..."

"I swear, Sam. If she's hurt-"

"She's not, okay? I promise. I promise, Dean. I-"

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John woke with a start as loud shouts echoed down the hallways. He reached for the small knife he keeps hidden under his pillow- he was in the army once, after all- and crept into the corridor. He edged to the end, peered round the corner, and-

leapt back as Sam tore down the corridor, screaming. John's heart sputtered. What could scare the hunter that bad? He took a breath, steeled his nerves and peeked back round the corner to see-

Dean sprinting back down the corridor, roaring in anger. A spanner was clenched in one hand, a can of whipped cream in the other. He was covered in- were they pencil shavings- and he looked like he was out for blood.  The thought to intervene flitted through John's mind, but he dismissed it quickly. There was no way he was getting in the middle of that.

It just proves what he's thought all along. Those Winchesters... they're  insane.

A/N: so I finally finished it. Huzzah!

How's everyone doing this quarantine? I must admit, I'm going a bit stir crazy, hence why I've started writing again. But how's you?

How'd  we like the chapter? Anything you think could be improved?

Anyone got any requests for any chapters? Any characters, situations etc? Remember- requests are always welcome.

Whew, that was a lotta questions. I'll let you get back to life. Just know that I'd love to here from you guys sometime- if not, no problem!

I have lost all sense. Quarantine sucks.

Apologies for my randomness. I'm gonna go before I humiliate myself. Stay frosty 🤟🏻