Author: [ profile] blue_white_red 
Title: For Mary: Part One
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG
Word count: 544
Warning: Spoilers through Season 1 Episode 9.  Haha.  Yes, it takes place between Season 1's episodes Home and Asylum.  This is the first time I have written a fic that does not take place in my "Latin-verse," so this could totally suck.  Sorry.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, Dean, Sammy, Missouri, or Mary.
A/N: This is the beginning of what may be a long series for my godsister ([ profile] evenstar1994).  I don't know if this is what she wanted (she asked for chocolate milkshake and confused thinking . . . so yeah), but whatever.  It'll continue.

He wasn’t ready to move on yet.  He had only just met his mother for the first time, and all his big brother wanted to do was get to the next hunt.  But Sammy didn’t want to leave yet.  He wanted to stay in Lawrence a little longer, try to feel her a little more, try to make contact. 

He knew Missouri had said that she was gone for good, that she had destroyed herself to save them, but he wasn’t ready to accept that either.  He could still feel her, and he worried that moving on would mean that he would lose her forever. . . .  Well, what he felt didn’t feel exactly like his mother had, but it definitely felt similar.

So, when Dean tried to convince Sam to move on, and the younger brother refused, the older brother decided to treat Sammy to a milkshake. “Dude, what are we, four?” Sam responded when Dean suggested it.  But his big brother dragged him to the diner anyway.  “Dean, this is ridiculous,” Sammy protested.  His big brother sat him down at the counter and ordered him a large chocolate milkshake, asked for another for himself, and sat down next to him.

They didn’t speak until the milkshakes arrived, Dean beaming at the prospect of chocolate, Sam brooding about the prospect of leaving.  When the waitress placed their shakes before them, she slipped a napkin with numbers written on it under Dean’s.  Yet another hook-up for him.  Maybe we’ll stay a little longer, at least.  The waitress smirked, winked, and casually went back to work.  Dean played with the straw for a while, staring into the glass, obviously thinking about something very important.  Sam didn’t touch his milkshake at all, deciding that it would be better to boycott than to give in to his brother’s demands.

“Sammy,” Dean said as he roused himself from his contemplative state.  “I get that you never met mom while she was alive, so seeing her now as been strange and exciting.  But she’s gone now.  And I can’t stand to stay here any longer than we all ready have.  It hurts to be in this town again, to see that house, to walk inside it.  It hurts to know that mom’s spirit was trapped her for so long, and that she sacrificed herself for us yet again. . . .  I just don’t think I can stay here any longer, Sam.”  He took a sip of the milkshake, crumpling the napkin the waitress had slipped him.  “Please, let’s just finish these and go,” he added, begging.

“Dean, I get that seeing mom again hurt you, really.  But this isn’t over.  There is something else; I can feel it.  It feels like mom did, only a little stronger.  And I can’t leave until I understand it.  Please, Dean,” Sam shot him a puppy-dog look.  “I just can’t go yet.”

“And I can’t stay, Sam,” Dean responded forcefully. 

“Then leave without me,” Sammy answered, staring at the untouched milkshake and wishing that he hadn’t said anything.

Dean stood, placed a ten on the counter, and walked out.  Sam didn’t turn to watch him go; he just listened as the Impala roared to life and sped off down the road.

To be continued. . . .



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