|Sam Winchester (bitch____) wrote,|
@ 2008-05-29 17:39:00
|Entry tags:||dean winchester, sam winchester|
Part 3 ( conclusion/final chapter )
[ Surprise, surprise. Another fic containing a stolen idea from Miko. What can I say?!? She's full of brilliance, and that sparks something in my brain - something that otherwise you wouldn't know existed. - cough - Cheesy conclusion, but the one I'd had in mind all along. I warned you, didn't I? Quite obviously, somewhere in between writing parts 2 and 3, I took an unintended break because ... because well, my focus isn't anywhere near what it used to be. But I just had to get this done before I skipped town, or it would've bothered me: leaving it unfinished. So to fill the void of not being able to conclude the Dean/Sam make-up thread with Miko, I substituted this as a temporary replacement .. one that won't bring me half the satisfaction the real one will ( and by 'real one,' I mean the one where Miko's so masterfully writing as Dean ), but it'll do for now. Okay! So at least I finished it ... at 8 AM this morning, so typos galore. Watch out. I might not have time to proofread before I have to go pack and stuff.
Oh and uh, I realize that Dean went from spitting mad to relatively calm pretty darn quickly, but keep in mind that there was a scene prior to this, one where Sam talked and talked until he was blue in the face, and he got across a lot - even though Dean wanted to pretend it had no effect on him. - glare - Deep down, it really did, and that's why they were so quickly and easily able to come to turns with what had happened in this fic. Let's just say Sam broke through Dean's 'i just don't care anymore' facade more than he wanted to admit, but he continued to be all stubborn about it based on principle: cue mystery woman to give him that nudge he needed ... and possibly even wanted, though you wouldn't catch him saying that. Hence why it wasn't all that difficult to get him to open up now. He'd had some time to think things through. To rant. To rave. To kick and scream and mope. Not much else left to do but let it go now, right? Let's hope that's somewhat plausible. After all, Sammy. How long could he really stay away? ]
So the closest place he could find had been a diner. What were the odds? If he hadn't been so bummed out about this whole situation with Sammy, he might've slowed down long enough to acknowledge how hungry he was and quiet the occasional rumbling that resulted from the big gaping hole that was right around where his stomach should be - or more like smack dab in the middle of it. Never mind all that. He wasn't even studying eating right now. That just went to show you how twisted up inside he was about what all had gone down the day before between him and his brother. Speaking of, that guy seated at a booth towards the back looked a little like him. No, take that back: a lot like him. Then when the dude stood up while very obviously staring directly at him, he realized it was Sam - but not until after he'd cast a not-so-subtle glance over his shoulder to make sure nobody was standing behind him. Nope. He was definitely the one.
In that sudden moment of realization, he felt his heart sink deeper down into his chest. Scratch that. It kept going, and probably ended up landing right around where the food his gut was screeching for should be. Sammy. He was here. How they'd just 'happened' to cross paths ... it was like getting a second shot, but all he could do was stand there. His body unwillingly froze, and not because he was angry, not anymore. But because of the look on Sam's face. Yeah. That one. The one that screamed at him without any words having to be said. The truth of the matter was that he'd refused to hear his brother out the day before, and instead of continuing to stand there and keep his emotions hidden - in check - he'd decided to walk out and leave Sam bolted up in that place. Anything could've happened to him, and it would've been all his fault. This whole, ridiculous thing was all his fault. Yet despite this sudden new wave of guilt that struck him like a tidal wave, there was a minimal sense of relief that swept over him once seeing that little Sammy appeared to be okay, but as for the rest ... he could barely make eye contact he felt so bad.
He would've continued standing there, perfectly content with not making a single, solitary move - not forward, but not back either ( all right, so maybe he wasn't perfectly content, but he could've pulled it off ) - if it hadn't been for the hand that was gently placed on his shoulder, followed by the encouraging words of ...? Oh yeah. Her. A slight head turn would bring the supposedly helpful hitchhiker ( he was sure she thought she was doing him some big favor, anyway ) into his line of sight. Right. People were starting to stare. What people? The old timers seated near the front, or the honeymooner type couple cozied up in the back? Nobody was looking ... Although maybe he was selectively overlooking a few people to make his theory accurate and discredit hers.
With a little more nudging, and knowing that it'd just kill Sam if he walked away from him not once, but twice ... or would this make three times? Regardless, it was beginning to become a habit, and he didn't like it. It's not like he could slip out unnoticed. It was time for him to suck it up and talk to his brother, but he really wasn't looking forward to doing it with an audience. No offense to little miss 'touched by an angel' here, but this was something he kinda needed to do on his own. How to ditch her though was the problem. He could just tell her to get lost. It's not like he'd been all that nice to her so far, anyway. So it shouldn't come as a huge shock that he'd suddenly decided he didn't want her around anymore. The hard part being that she'd grown on him ( a little bit ), and she was so dang pathetic looking sometimes, whether she intended it to be that that way or not. That aspect of her reminded him of Sammy. Maybe that's why he'd taken to her; all this time, deep down he'd been wishing he'd look over and see his baby brother sitting there instead of her. Needless to say, if there was an easier way ... then again, when was anything easy these days?
He couldn't skillfully juggle this all around and spare everyone's feelings, especially when his own were still so topsy turvy, he didn't know up from down. So first things first: Sam's opinion was the most important. Always had been; always would be. And by now, his better half was standing just a couple feet away from him, waiting for something to be said or done - some kind of indication that Dean wasn't going to turn around and head straight back out the door to avoid another 'heart-to-heart' - so the time to make his move was now. A deep clearing of the throat was made, but nothing followed it: not the sentence he'd intended to get out immediately after the action was complete. 'We need to talk.' Why was that so hard to say?
Sam had just been sitting there, watching the clock, waiting for his 'date' to show. While there were so many other things that needed his immediate attention right now, to be quite honest, it was a much-needed relief ( as temporary as it was ) to just hang out for awhile - have someone to talk to: someone that wasn't the person he really wanted to talk to, but at least she listened to what he had to say. That was something he didn't have right now, and unlike Dean, he didn't handle being completely alone very well. He always needed - no. Forget that. What he needed was his brother back, but it didn't look like that was going to happen anytime soon. So instead he'd settled for having dinner with a practical stranger in some random eating establishment on a dark and stormy night.
Then, just as he was beginning to think she wasn't coming, she arrived. He was already working on trying to build up a somewhat convincing smile so he wouldn't appear to be in this constant state of depression ... although that wasn't too far from the truth. He did have a tendency to get real down about things - though most of the time, how could he not? Still, there was no reason to rattle on and on about his problems, because ... well, because he'd already done that.
... And then his gaze had shifted to the person directly behind her: Dean. At first, he didn't believe it. He thought maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him. They seemed to be together, and there was just no way ... There was no way she could've known where to find his brother, much less lured them to the same location at the exact same time. But no matter whether this was an illusion or real, he never took his eyes off Dean. He'd stood and slowly proceeded forward until they were in much closer proximity. Then he'd been absolutely sure it was all real. Dean looked just as confused as he was - and he also caught a glimpse of fear, despite Dean's best efforts to hide it from him. But how ... ? Eyes drifted to Laura momentarily, and in return to his questioning glance, she gave a knowing smile - one that ordinarily would've sparked a ton load of questions -- if he could've gotten his attention on anything other than his brother. He was getting another chance. Maybe he would have better luck this time. Maybe if he presented it differently ... if he did it just right, he could still fix this.
"I'm going to go dry off." Her hair was still wet from when it'd rained earlier, though fortunately her clothes had dried, for the most part. However, she was looking for an excuse to leave the two alone, so that's the one she chose. Then she fell out of sight, disappearing into the women's restroom.
It was like round two. Here they were, again. Just them - well, and a diner full of customers who weren't paying that much attention. And, just like before, Sam would be the one to start talking first. "Dean, I-"
"Shut up, Sam." Dean's tone left no room for argument, though as harsh as the command came out, it wasn't meant to be cruel. Instead of jumping right in to what he was trying to get out, he made a gesture towards the nearest vacant booth. Translation: this was one of those conversations where you needed to sit down before having it or you might buckle in the middle of it, and that would most definitely not be good. Though incase there was any confusion left over, Dean would take the initiative and slide into the side closest to him. There. Now then. They'd both taken a step in the same direction. That was progress. Now all he had to do was quit letting his brother think that he was still furious about what he'd done and get down to the nitty gritty. The same brother who was making getting a word in edge-wise virtually impossible, because he was already starting to say something else. Dean shot up a hand and made a gesture instructing Sam to 'zip it' without actually having to tell him to be quiet ... again.
Already, Sam had noticed his hand was hurt and was inquiring about how it happened. Out of everything that was going on right now, he was worried about a few bruised and bloody knuckles? Oh, but don't think that meant he hadn't noticed the side of Sammy's hand that was also bruised ... and he had a pretty good idea of how that'd happened. There was no telling how long Sam had beaten on the cabin door, trying in vain to get him to come back. Talk about your guilt - as if he didn't have enough of that pesky feeling crawling around inside of him already.
"I don't want to fight anymore." He figured that was as good a place to start as any, and it got his point across: loud and clear. But obviously, he had to say more than that. It just took him a few minutes to find the right words ... and build up the courage to say them. -- Though finally, he managed to pull it together. ( Although in all fairness, his definition of 'holding it together' was a lot better than Sam's. ) "I don't hate you." It had gotten brought up in the heat of the moment, and he felt like that needed to be addressed, first and foremost. "How could I? You're the most important person in my life. Maybe I don't tell you that enough, and maybe sometimes it's hard to tell ... but you are." There was no doubt that the words being said were anything but one hundred percent true - if anything, because of the way he wriggled around uncomfortably in his seat, or because he was forced to stop mid-stream to rub his hand roughly across his face. Sincerity was etched in every spoken syllable, but there was also a fair amount of discouragement there too: amongst other things.
"Damn it Sam, it wasn't supposed to be this way. No matter what happened, I was fine as long as I knew that I was doing my job: that I was keeping you safe. And now ... now I don't know how to do that, anymore. Everything's just been screwed all to hell. Bottom line is I failed. But more importantly, I failed you." He glanced up to gauge his brother's reaction, before adding in a rare moment of defeat, "I didn't know what to say. I couldn't look you in the eye, and tell you that I didn't know what to do this time." It was his only excuse for letting Sam go on thinking he was just too full of hate to stand the sight of him. Maybe it'd been wrong. Maybe it had done more harm than good, but he wasn't claiming to have done the noble thing, here. But it was high time he tried to make his brother understand why he'd acted the way he did - and it had nothing to do with being mad about the deal.
It actually made a lot of sense: why he'd tried to keep Sam at arm's length - get him to stay away. Dean had always felt responsible for him, even when it never should've been his job to begin with. But they weren't kids anymore. He wasn't this naive little boy that needed to be protected from the cruelties of life. He knew what was out there; he also knew that the only way he'd be able to constantly face all the demons ( figuratively and literally ), he needed his brother by his side. Not necessarily for the physical back-up, but for the emotional support: just to know that he was there. But Sam got it. He understood why Dean felt like he'd failed, but truth was, Dean wouldn't have been in this mess at all if it weren't for him. None of them would. Their whole family could've been just fine if it hadn't been for the Yellow-Eyed Demon: the YED that'd had plans for him. Yeah. They could go 'round and 'round in circles all day long about this. It was just easier to say that neither of them could live without the other. And even if it was possible, the one that would be left behind didn't want to.
A heavy sigh fell from his lips as his shoulders sank a little, lowering himself so that he would be more at eye level. "You didn't fail me, Dean. You never have. But you're just one person. You can't always fix everything, not by yourself. This time it's my turn to help you: to help us. That doesn't mean I need you any less. It just means that sometimes we have to try something different to get the job done, but we can still survive this. We can beat this together, but that's the only way we're going to get through it. Because if we don't, we lose big either way." As scared as he was about this whole Challenge thing Ruby had proposed - not to mention skeptical considering the source - he was adamant about doing it, because really ... the only things they would regret were the risks they didn't take. 'Cause if they tried and failed, they wouldn't live long enough to regret it - or anything for that matter. But if they won, they were off the hook; they'd get a clean slate. They could go back to hunting and focus their attention on saving other people instead of themselves. But he had to get Dean on-board, or this level of optimism he was trying so desperately to maintain was nothing but a complete waste of time and energy.
"I'm not willing to give up. I'm not willing to let you give up, either. Now I'm going to tell you what you've told me over and over again. You taught me that if there's even the slightest chance of success, to go for it - and you were right to say it. The only way you could fail me now is by choosing not to fight for yourself ... and for me." That was ultimately what it all came down to. The greatest disappointment Sam had ever faced because of something Dean had done was the knowledge that his brother didn't care enough about himself to even try to save his own life. 'Cause whether Dean wanted to acknowledge it or not, his self-worth was based on more than just taking care of his kid brother or carrying on his father's legacy. Dean was so much more complex than that. He had a gazillion good qualities, but those easily got overlooked because of all the bad stuff that happened. Perceptions got skewed, and will was slowly chipped away, until they were both on the verge of being completely jaded: beaten down by life's merciless blows. They just couldn't give in now. Not now. Not after all this. Not after Dad had sacrificed himself so that Dean could live. Not after they'd finally killed the Yellow-Eyed Demon. Not after they'd become the inseparable duo that understood and depended on one another, no matter what. All these years ... all these years they'd spent getting to really know each other, just to go down without a fight? No. No. That wasn't how they did things. That's not how he and his brother were raised. Just this once, he had to be the strong one: put his foot down and say, 'look, this is how it is, and this is what we need to do about it.'
Now whether he actually believed all this hope he was shoveling out was a slightly different matter, although he was trying not to dwell on that too much. Positive thoughts. He was trying to stick to thinking positive thoughts.
You know, it was funny how they traded off their moments of weakness and strength. Here he'd always felt the need to be the tough one: the stoic big brother who always had the answers and could make any situation better. He was the eldest; that was his responsibility, and he'd done a fairly decent job of pulling it off up until now. Now it's like everything he'd strived so hard to achieve had gone right down the drain. Then in marched Sammy ... the walking, talking, picture perfect example of all things pure and good and simple assuring him that they could do this: that he'd actually found a way, and that as long as Dean agreed to do whatever it is they were supposed to do, they stood a hell of a good chance. Hope. There it was. Or maybe it was that faith Dean undeniably lacked. Whichever was the case, Sam seemed to have enough for the both of them - and he was willing to continue to carry that as far as he needed to to get them saved.
Well hooray for Sammy. Cue the violins! This was quickly turning into one of those dreaded chick flick moments of spreading love and good feeling around the table: the kind that made you all warm and tingly inside. It was clear that arguing his point wasn't going to do anything but get Sam to crank in with more remarks about how great of a person he was or how awesome their chances were thanks to this sudden new discovery of how to save their asses from the Pit. Yeah. That was going to be fun to hear. He could only imagine where his brother had gotten his information from ... or maybe he didn't even want to know. But no matter what, there only seemed to be one solution here. "Since when did you get all into this fighting till the bitter end crap?"
"Since our lives depended on it." A partial smile slowly started to work its way across his face since he was finally able to shove aside a lot of the anxiety and dread he'd initially felt when seeing Dean. His brother's tone had changed - if only a little bit. "You gotta admit, we've faced some pretty steep odds and come out the other side okay. Who says we can't do it again?" Certainly couldn't hurt. At this point, there was no harm in trying.
It was clear that Dean still didn't like this whole role reversal thing and that he wasn't putting all that much stock in this solution that'd seemingly popped out of nowhere. But who could argue with a face like that? So reluctantly, he caved. "If this was coming from anyone else, I'd say not a chance." A brief pause was taken. He wasn't good at these feel-good, Hallmark-type moments after all, so a person could only expect so much from him - especially under the circumstances. But not too long after, he managed to cough up the rest of what he wanted to say. "But it's not coming from anyone else, and I believe in you, so if you think that we can pull this off ... I guess it's worth a shot."
"Well, I believe in us." A tiny correction he felt needed to be made. "And I'm telling you that we can do this. We just gotta trust each other." He wanted to make sure that all was really forgiven between the two of them, because if there was still any tension or hard feelings left over from the fall-out, it might get in the way. All animosity needed to be set aside or let go entirely.
"What, are you kidding me?" Did Sam really have to ask? Huh. Always in need of constant reassurance. It was a little pathetic actually, and not for the reasons you might think. It was sad, because he wasn't always in the mood to say 'smile sammy! put on your happy face now, because dean loves you!' In fact, he was more likely to feed off that insecurity and use it as a form of manipulation to get Sam to do what he wanted him to do - or just for entertainment purposes. Sometimes the very thing he needed most was to make his brother a little uncomfortable, 'cause c'mon, it was fun! Besides, we were just talking enough to make him squirm around a little. Oh, the hilarity. Yep, things were already transitioning back into how they should be. Though the one and only genuine response to Sam's question was ..."Of course I trust you." And just incase there was still any doubt in his annoyingly persistent younger brother's mind, he cracked a smile for the first time since ... well, since everything had fallen all to pieces.
Almost as if she'd been standing by waiting for the two brothers to bridge the gap between them, Laura approached, wearing that same soft smile that never strayed from her face for very long. A silence had temporarily settled between the Winchesters. A silence that wasn't brought about by words left unsaid or painful accusations and cold stares, but because they were content - content with being able to sit across from each other and just enjoy the other's company without fear of a fight. That was the opportune moment for her to reappear and exchange parting words with each. She needed to be on her way now. "Are those smiles I'm seeing?" She was only joking, of course. It was obvious that progress had been made. "I knew you two would work it out."
"Yeah, about that ... how did you know where to find Dean? I mean, you set this whole thing up, right? It can't be coincidence that you chose this place, and he just happened to show up here too." It wasn't that he didn't appreciate it, even if she had orchestrated this all somehow. He was just baffled at how it'd all so effortlessly fallen into place.
"We just ran into each other. Once I got to talking to him ... I don't know. It all sounded incredibly familiar, so I took a guess and hoped I was right."
"Good guess." Good answer, too - and he had absolutely no reason not to believe her. Look what all she'd done for them. But why did it still feel like there was more to it than that?
"Wait, you two know each other?" Dean glanced back and forth between them, one brow lifting questioningly.
"Your brother was kind enough to help me move some stuff around earlier today. He told me ..." A quick glance was shot to Sam, unsure of how much of their conversation he really wanted repeated. "He told me that you guys had had a fight, that he missed you, and that he would do anything if it meant you'd forgive him for what he'd done." That was the bulk of it, anyway.
Sounded like Sam. "Uh huh." Eyes cut over to his brother to give him the once-over, wondering how much else she'd been told. Surely, not everything. If so, she wouldn't still be hanging around them - and Sam would be looking far more uncomfortable than he was looking right now. "Well, as you can see, we're good now. So whatever role you played in that, kudos to you. Thanks a bunch. It's been an ... educational experience. I would say hope we could do it again sometime, but that would be a lie." He was hoping things never got this out of control again - although the likelihood of being able to prevent it ... he chose not to think about that right now, because it could easily screw up this whole confidence kick they were supposed to be on.
"Yeah, thanks." It didn't seem like enough, but he didn't know what else to say. However, the levity of those two simple words: the latter especially ... he meant with every fiber of his being.
She smiled proudly down at the boys before somewhat unexpectantly reaching out to gently caress Sam's cheek, her way of saying 'you're welcome.' Then she turned to Dean and let the back of her hand trail down the side of his face affectionately, before it dropped down to his arm. The action was followed by a light squeeze of the shoulder. "You guys take care." A seemingly final glance was shot over her shoulder after she'd started for the door, but she suddenly stopped and turned part-way back in their direction. "Hang in there. I think you two are going to be just fine." And with one last reassuring smile, she'd disappear - assumedly once the cab she was supposed to have called as soon as she got there so the eldest Winchester wouldn't have to baby-sit her any longer had pulled up out front. Little did they know that she'd never even used the phone.
Any sign of affection caught Dean off-guard; this was in no way an exception. He barely knew the girl, though apparently her name was Laura - and she knew Sam, which could explain a lot. But she seemed to genuinely care about their well-being. Whatever for, he'd never know. It's not like he'd welcomed her into the warmth and safety of his vehicle with open arms. Just went to show you that people were unpredictable ... and sometimes that wasn't such a bad thing - not that he'd be admitting this aloud. "Where did you find this girl?" The question had been meant mostly as a joke, but once she'd put on that little display ... he had to admit, his curiosity was peaked. "I swear, I can't leave you alone for a second." Though this was by far the best girl Sam had picked up on his own in a while, hands down.
"In a church. She just appeared." Yes, he'd heard that last remark. He was just choosing to ignore it.
Dean frowned. Now that was slightly disturbing. Not only the fact that Sam was in a church, but that other thing. "Out of nowhere?"
Sam's shoulders rose and fell in a light shrug. When he put it that way, it sounded a little crazy. "I don't know."
"Whatever, dude." Some mysteries were best left unsolved. He was making this one of them ... and he would've been totally cool with that had Sam not suddenly chimed in with 'i remember now!' and jumped to his feet. Geez. Give a guy a heart attack, why don't ya? "Remember what?" Soon after his brother made his sudden leap out of the booth, Dean stood as well, although he firmly believed at this point that Sam had officially lost his mind. Whatever had happened to him in the few days that they'd been separated, he'd gone completely bonkers. Case in point: beautiful girl. Obviously sweet, caring, and one who loved to ramble on and on about the goodness of life, and yet Sam had let her walk away. Then again, that was Sammy for ya. He never had been too smooth with the ladies.
Seems as if getting an answer was going to have to wait, because his brother was already one foot out the door. Dean trailed after him, briskly catching up. He glanced this way and that once they were both outside and discovered they were looking at ... nothing. There was nothing. "Looky there. She gave you the slip. You gotta be more direct with letting women know what you want: more forceful. You should practice. A girl could be waitin' on you forever." Oh man, how he'd missed this: the little things. Like the ever-so-priceless unamused looks he got from Sammy every time he made a quip that wasn't taken humorously. He'd missed stuff like this so much so that he couldn't keep from chuckling at his own cleverness - and at his brother's expense, in general.
"The necklace. She was wearing a necklace."
A skeptical brow raised before he took an obvious step back. "Okay, now I'm seriously worried about you. Her necklace? You noticed her necklace?" Out of all the things to notice ... jewelry? A little peculiar.
"I'd seen it before, but I couldn't remember where - until just now."
Oh boy. This was bound to be good. He needn't ask the question that had already rolled off the tip of his tongue, 'cause he knew Sam would tell him anyway ( though apparently he did ask ). "So, where?"
"In a photograph ... of Mom," Sam stated matter of factly.
"Okay. So she and Mom have the same necklace." Dean's expression remained blank for a minute or so, trying to figure out what, exactly, Sam was trying to suggest. Sometimes trying to get inside his brother's head wasn't such an easy thing. And then, finally it hit him ... "Oh no. No, no, no. Don't you start up with that angel crap again."
"I'm just saying ... she appeared to me in a church, out of nowhere? I realize I was out of it, but I still would've heard her come into the room - or at least noticed someone else was there. And what about you? She just happened to stumble across you someplace and convince you to come to where she knew I'd be waiting? I mean, who else would do that sort of thing, Dean?"
"I don't know, Sam. Okay? I don't know. Maybe it was all coincidence." He didn't have all the answers. He didn't know how this had all come together exactly, but he knew what hadn't happened. There were no angels. They'd had this discussion before, and they had yet to see anything that proved otherwise. So until then, this theory was off the table.
"Coincidence?" He scoffed lightly at the suggestion. "That's an awfully big coincidence, don't you think? And what about what she said: 'Hang in there. You two are going to be just fine.' What about that?"
"She's been listening to us bitch about each other all day. Of course she's going to say that." Seemed logical to him ... But he could tell his brother was disappointed, so he wouldn't end it there. "Look, I know you want to believe that angels are real. And hey, if it makes you feel better ..." Oh God. Just shoot me now. Was he actually even considering saying that maybe .... nah. Couldn't have been. It just wasn't possible. And yet it was like when she'd touched him, this sudden sense of peace swept over him momentarily. He felt silly even thinking it, much less saying it, so he wasn't going to. But ... "Who am I to tell you they aren't?" That was a big thing for him to say, primarily because he still didn't put a whole lot of stock into all this miracle stuff. Although if ( and that was a huge, resounding if ) they had, in fact, had an angel appear to them and help push them towards a reconciliation, maybe they would be okay. It was really too early to tell.
While they were on the subject of salvation ( or somewhere close to it ) ... "So you said you have a plan?" He was sure he'd regret asking, but they needed to start discussing business - not all this happy, riding off into the sunset, make-believe crap. Time was running out.
So Dean had felt it too ... when Laura touched him. That was the only thing that could explain his brother's sudden change of heart, as subtle as the admittance had been. Whatever. It was enough for Sam to cling to. To even consider the possibility that the other side ( the good side ) had sent someone to make sure that they worked things out ... That gave him a whole new burst of confidence; it also renewed his faith. It'd been a sign from above he desperately needed, because sooner or later Dean was bound to notice how unsure he was about this wonderful 'master plan' that'd conveniently fallen into their laps. One that he was now asking about ... "What do you say we grab a bite to eat first?" Because food would not only put off this conversation a little longer, but Dean was ordinarily a happier guy when he was stuffing his face - or had just chowed down on the meal of his choice. Plus, they were at a diner. Seemed like a waste not to take advantage of that.
At the moment, Dean didn't care about Sam's ulterior motives. He was starving. "I thought you'd never ask." Didn't have to ask him twice. He'd trade in angel talk for a plate of potato skins and a cheeseburger any day of the week. In fact, he was already on his way back inside the quaint little place. Atmosphere? Who cares! Food was cool: didn't matter where you served it.
Sam couldn't help but shake his head and laugh at his brother's eagerness to go eat. It's as if the guy hadn't seen food in weeks ... Glad to see none of this had affected Dean's appetite. -- After casting one final glance around the surrounding area and finding it empty, he'd shuffle back inside.