EAT YOURSELF WELL

Chapter 2

xxxxx

Sam stared as Dean wiped his streaming nose on his cuff. "Dean, why …" He gestured toward the pile of crumb-strewn plates, candy wrappers and empty chip packets littering the table.

"Doin' a bit of self-bedicating," Dean grinned; a riot of cookie crumbs decorating his teeth; "feed a cold, that's whad they say, ain't id?"

Sam glanced between Kevin's diminutive form, their paltry bag of pharmacy supplies and the empty pantry.

"Kevin, I know we're just back and everything," he sighed, reaching for his wallet; "but could you …"

Kevin snatched up the Impala's keys.

"I'm going," he snorted.

xxxxx

end