#uuuugh stanford!era

[dickbaggins]

A clue brings us all good memories..

this is already so feelsy and I have no idea why???

I thought about Dean working a case on his own. Sam’s at college. It’s been nine months since they’ve talked. Dean works faster now, misses things sometimes, blows through monsters like tissue paper. This time he’s at a high school, not too old yet to pose as a transfer student. Someone was gutted like a fish in the library and libraries always just do it for him. He can’t not think about Sam, various Sam’s in various libraries all over the country. Little baby Sam fat cheeked smiling grabbing colourful kids books off low shelves, begging Dean to read them to him and even though Dean’s supposed to be helping research, he takes a few minutes to do it anyway. Then there’s shy adolescent Sam poking around the backs of shelves, breaking the case open with some dusty tome or other. It changes more than a little once Sam’s older, teenage brooding but not too much to look at Dean /that/ way, doe eyes and fluttery lashes and the first time Dean blows him is under a desk in a library. He can’t remember which one, which city, can’t remember anything but the dusty smell of books and the deathgrip on his hair and how every time after that, libraries hit him like pavlov’s dog, even when there’s a blood and brains splattered on the books. 

After the case (it’s a ghost, it’s an old librarian buried under the floorboards), Dean calls Sam and they talk themselves hoarse. 

send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it