“I’ve always been curious about computers…” Sam said, always truthful with John. “If I’m not interrupting. I watched you work on it a few times during the last year, but I could never see what you were doing.” His eyes drifted to the yellow smiley face across the room from their seats. It was distant enough from John’s armchair to make it hard to read the laptop.
“Not interrupting me at all,” John assured. “I’m just finishing up, but… well here, have a look.”
The doctor shifted his weight to lean a little more toward the bookshelf, rotating his computer so that he and Sam could both have a good view of it.
Sam grinned broadly as he found the perfect spot to sit.
Dangling his legs off the edge, Sam patiently waited for Dean to reappear. Dean was off searching for signs of a spirit while Sam checked the walls for a hexbag, their usual routine on the job. With the family gone, they didn’t even have to worry about anyone spotting Sam, a bonus.
It wasn’t long before the rhythmic footsteps could be felt echoing up the solid supports of the bookshelf. Dean entered the study, his EMF meter slowly panning from side to side.
“Hey!” Sam called out, smugly settled in his spot, above Dean’s head. He estimated about a good half foot between him and the spike of dirty blond hair that Dean was so proud of.
Dean looked up, his eyebrows climbing his face as he saw how high Sam was.
“What you doing up there?” he asked gruffly, jabbing the EMF meter in Sam’s direction. The buzzer blipped for a moment, then went back down to zero.
Sam shrugged and hooked his hands together behind his head. “Taking it all in,” he said.
Dean cocked his head to the side, confusion on his face.
Sam took pity. “Y’know, looking down at you. Just like I’m supposed to.”
Ever since the Spirit dream with Bowman, the brothers’ had discovered that Sam’s true height outstripped Dean’s by several inches. The younger brother might look smaller than Dean because of his curse, but he was, in fact, the tallest in the family.
Dean rolled his eyes dramatically. “Look who’s talkin,’ shorty,” he snarked back, holding a hand up for Sam to step into.
Sam did, casually sauntering to the center of Dean’s palm.
Brothers Apart 