SpN: And Run
3/22/10 12:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyTitle: And Run
Author:roxy
Characters:Dean, Sam
Rating:PG
Word Count:534
Spoilers:vague ones for Jus In Bello
Summary:"The prison hasn't been built that can hold me. I'll get out of this one if it means spending my entire life here." Woody Allen, Take The Money And Run
The chains dragged against the floor, chiming in an oddly cheerful sort of way against the concrete as they shuffled across the floor and into the cell. Sam turned to the bars, and Dean pulled the chain up short trying to sit on the cot attached to the cell wall—Sam fell face-first against the bars—"Dean!"
"Oh, okay. Um…sit?"
"Yeah…." They twisted and shuffled and slid against one another until they dropped together to the bench.
"Hey, you know what this reminds me of?" Dean asked with the goofy little grin that warned Sam he was about to get very annoyed with his brother.
"What in the hell could this possibly remind you of?" Sam huffed, because he couldn't recall having been *chained* and tossed into a cell before.
"Take The Money And Run—you know, that old Woody Allen flick…where he's on the chain gang, and they escape and they all have to shuffle together like—" Dean moved like he was going to get up and demonstrate—Sam yanked hard on the chain cuffing their hands together.
Dean dropped back to the bench and looked affronted. "And ow."
Sam growled at him. "TV, Dean? We're about to be…I don’t know…probably locked up *under* the jail and you're babbling about a movie that wasn't even remotely funny and doesn’t have any bearing on this situation and—and—"
"Come on—we loved watching those old movies when we were kids…besides, it *was* funny. Or maybe you'd think so if you weren’t always all, oh boo-hoo, my life sucks, it's all full of suck, whah…" He made a weepy face and Sam kicked his ankle, making the chains ring out against the cement floor.
"Are you insane? Do you ever listen to yourself?" Sam hissed.
Dean took a deep breath and patiently explained, "See, dude, it's the way you look at things. You're always looking at the glass as half empty instead of—" He made a pouring, and then a measuring motion with his hands, cocked an eyebrow at Sam and it only made him glare harder.
"I'm going to fucking…*kill* you."
Dean leaned away, his mouth partly open and eyes wide…"Kill me?"
Sam glanced down and away. "Shit…I'm--I'm sorry—I'm upset, taking the situation out on you. You know I didn't—that was just. Stupid."
"No, it's okay…it's kind of…" He leaned over and put his lips on Sam's ear "…sexy. Makes me hot."
Sam slapped Dean's head, hard. "Are you crazy? We're shackled together in a tiny cell with iffy sanitation and hell at the end of it and you're making sick jokes! What the hell—again, *are* you completely insane?"
Dean grinned and rubbed the back of his head. "…yeah?" and finally Sam laughed a little. "There you go, sunshine," Dean said, having won again. For a second, it was as it should be-- just the two of them; they leaned against each other, together, and for a second, just for a second…it was okay.
There was a cough at the front of the cell.
Henriksen. The avenging angel of death, smiling at them, his face creased with a smile of triumph, of a job well done.
"Well, well Dean. And Sam…you know what I'm tryin' to decide?"
3-24-2008
Author:roxy
Characters:Dean, Sam
Rating:PG
Word Count:534
Spoilers:vague ones for Jus In Bello
Summary:"The prison hasn't been built that can hold me. I'll get out of this one if it means spending my entire life here." Woody Allen, Take The Money And Run
The chains dragged against the floor, chiming in an oddly cheerful sort of way against the concrete as they shuffled across the floor and into the cell. Sam turned to the bars, and Dean pulled the chain up short trying to sit on the cot attached to the cell wall—Sam fell face-first against the bars—"Dean!"
"Oh, okay. Um…sit?"
"Yeah…." They twisted and shuffled and slid against one another until they dropped together to the bench.
"Hey, you know what this reminds me of?" Dean asked with the goofy little grin that warned Sam he was about to get very annoyed with his brother.
"What in the hell could this possibly remind you of?" Sam huffed, because he couldn't recall having been *chained* and tossed into a cell before.
"Take The Money And Run—you know, that old Woody Allen flick…where he's on the chain gang, and they escape and they all have to shuffle together like—" Dean moved like he was going to get up and demonstrate—Sam yanked hard on the chain cuffing their hands together.
Dean dropped back to the bench and looked affronted. "And ow."
Sam growled at him. "TV, Dean? We're about to be…I don’t know…probably locked up *under* the jail and you're babbling about a movie that wasn't even remotely funny and doesn’t have any bearing on this situation and—and—"
"Come on—we loved watching those old movies when we were kids…besides, it *was* funny. Or maybe you'd think so if you weren’t always all, oh boo-hoo, my life sucks, it's all full of suck, whah…" He made a weepy face and Sam kicked his ankle, making the chains ring out against the cement floor.
"Are you insane? Do you ever listen to yourself?" Sam hissed.
Dean took a deep breath and patiently explained, "See, dude, it's the way you look at things. You're always looking at the glass as half empty instead of—" He made a pouring, and then a measuring motion with his hands, cocked an eyebrow at Sam and it only made him glare harder.
"I'm going to fucking…*kill* you."
Dean leaned away, his mouth partly open and eyes wide…"Kill me?"
Sam glanced down and away. "Shit…I'm--I'm sorry—I'm upset, taking the situation out on you. You know I didn't—that was just. Stupid."
"No, it's okay…it's kind of…" He leaned over and put his lips on Sam's ear "…sexy. Makes me hot."
Sam slapped Dean's head, hard. "Are you crazy? We're shackled together in a tiny cell with iffy sanitation and hell at the end of it and you're making sick jokes! What the hell—again, *are* you completely insane?"
Dean grinned and rubbed the back of his head. "…yeah?" and finally Sam laughed a little. "There you go, sunshine," Dean said, having won again. For a second, it was as it should be-- just the two of them; they leaned against each other, together, and for a second, just for a second…it was okay.
There was a cough at the front of the cell.
Henriksen. The avenging angel of death, smiling at them, his face creased with a smile of triumph, of a job well done.
"Well, well Dean. And Sam…you know what I'm tryin' to decide?"
3-24-2008
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