fic: reality check (spn)
Oct. 2nd, 2009 06:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jukeboxhound_backupReality Check
Characters: Sam, Dean
“You know what I hate about these Small America towns?”
Dean smoothly leaned to one side to avoid Sam’s flailing. “Not enough nail salons for your prissy giant self?”
“You’re a fuckin’ jerk.” He glared at his older brother over the rim of his fourth beer glass.
“Whiny bitch.”
“No, ‘m serious, Dean. Deeean. Dean-o.”
“Say that again and you’ll be drinkin’ my fist.”
“Dean, s’riously, I’m s’rious. These dives, man, s’like being stuck in the fuckin’ Dark Ages.”
Dean eyed the pretty thing wiping down a few tables on the other side of the bar. “Oh, I dunno, Sammy, I don’t think it’s as bad as all get-out.”
“You hear about this shit going down in
“…How drunk are you, and how can you still say words like that?”
Unsurprisingly, Sam went on as though Dean hadn’t said a word. “Science has got to be tested, y’know? With em – empili – empirical ev-i-dence. But the whole point of religion’s to have faith, innit? So what the fuck these rednecks doin’, trying to confuse totally different things?”
“Coming from you, Jesus Boy, that’s a riot.”
“S’not the same,” Sam stressed with the kind of whine that only six-year-olds and drunken younger brothers could manage. “Faith’s there when science can’t be. Science ain’t telling why, only how. God’s like – like spackle. To fill the cracks, not be a whole foundation for – for founding things.”
Dean snorted beer up his nose. When he got his coughing under control, he rasped, “If that’s the kind of deep thinking they teach at that school of yours, I might could’ve gotten behind the whole college thing.”
Sam prosaically flipped him off. If he was a few degrees off in the wrong direction, well, the sentiment was clear enough.
