Diggin' It (Domestic Drabble)
Summary: Sam’s suspicious Dean is hunting again, so he follows him.
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Domestic Nonsense
WC: 623
A/N: I love these silly little drabbles, though this one was pretty angsty.
Domestic Drabbles
Sam watched from the shadows, keeping enough distance to go undetected as he followed Dean through the woods surrounding the Bunker. Dean had been sneaking out the past few days, making lame excuses that Sam saw right through. He suspected maybe Dean was hunting again, and he really hoped he was wrong. They had sworn to leave it behind, to live the normal, basic life that they earned after so long.
His heart sank a little further as his eyes settled on a large tarp-wrapped object that Dean dragged behind him, dropping it with a huff as he stopped at his chosen spot. His brother leaned over the tarp, loosening it enough to withdraw a shovel. Turning his back to the tarp, and Sam’s hiding spot, Dean drove the spade into the earth, beginning to remove heaps into a pile.
Dean grunted as he forced the shovel into the ground, loosening another chunk of dirt. He paused, leaning on the handle of the shovel with one arm as he wiped his other forearm across his brow, removing the sweat and smearing dirt. A crunching sound behind him alerted him to the fact he was no longer alone.
Dean spun on his heels, shovel held in both hands as he readied himself to fight. He immediately relaxed his stance, letting out a breath and standing straight as he leaned against the shovel with one hand.
“Heya, Sammy. What are you-”
“What are you burying?”
“I’m not burying anything,” Dean countered with an eye roll, returning to his digging efforts. “Why do you automatically assume that?”
Sam’s eyes trailed over Dean, in jeans and a t-shirt, both smeared and dusted in dirt from his efforts. The tarp lay a few feet away, wrapped in rope to hold it secured. Sam pinched his eyes shut and took a breath, trying to calm his nerves.
“Cause that’s the only time you dig,” Sam responded as if it should have been obvious, still trying to hold back his anger from Dean lying. “You’ve been sneaking around, acting suspicious. Now you’re out here digging and you’ve got a tarp,” Sam marched over to the tarp, tugging harshly at the ropes that bound it and flinging the fabric open to reveal its contents.
Sam stood frozen and confused. Hearing the sigh from behind him he turned to his brother with a questioning gaze. Dean pursed his lips and huffed a breath before turning his attention back to the shovel and soil. “I’m making a garden,” he mumbled.
Sam looked back to the tarp, filled with soil, seeds, boards and various tools. He turned back to Dean, utterly surprised but still confused.
“Did you say a garden?” Sam shook his head, still not believing his brother would make a garden of all things.
“For vegetables!” Dean defended, making Sam chuckle, his shoulders drooping and shaking with his laughter and relief. “It’s ridiculous how much you pay at those markets,” Dean continued, shaking his head. “I can grow a damn zucchini,” he muttered.
Sam nodded in understanding. They’d both been going a little stir crazy now that their expertise was no longer necessary. He suddenly felt awful for assuming the worst. He wanted to apologize, but Dean seemed over it, quite content focusing on his task.
“Can I help?”
Dean smiled and nodded, handing Sam the shovel as he went back to the tarp to pull over the bags of soil. Sam continued where Dean left off, shoving the spade into the ground and adding the piles of dirt to the mound.
“It’s nice to be digging to bring life,” Dean said to Sam, his focus on the boards for the garden bed, “Instead of hiding death.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “It is.”
FOREVERS:
@lyarr24
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DEAN WINCHESTER:
@slamminmine
@deandreamernp
@awkward-and-indecisive
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SAM WINCHESTER:
@b3autyfuldisast3r
