“Hope it's good.” Sam replied as he locked the doors, remembering to throw the chain and the weird latch whose only real purpose was the hold the door open if you were loading or unloading your car. “Come on and eat, while it's still hot.” He took a large Styrofoam container from one of the bags and set it down, along with a spoon at one of the places at the table.
Dean made his way over to the table and sat, sniffling faintly. “What is it?”
“Trust me, you'll like it.” Sam said, sitting down opposite of him and pulling out his own container and spoon.
Not wanting to argue that the last time his brother had told him that, the food in question had been rhubarb pie – clearly something that didn't deserve the honor of being pie – he opened the container and looked down at the soup within. It was a distinct red color and in an instant, Dean knew what type it was. As he picked up his spoon and stirred the broth, he confirmed his suspicion. He knew Sam didn't know about their mom's tomato rice soup and how she used to make it for him when he was sick. He'd never mentioned it and kept the memory of the times his mom had made it for him tucked away in his mind for his own private viewing. He lifted the spoon to his lips and drank.
“Good?” Sam said from across the table, a spoonful of New England Clam Chowder halfway to his mouth.
“It's great, Sam.” He said with a tiny smile as he took another sip. “Tomato rice?” He said it in a manner that sounded surprised – as if the combination was almost absurd.
“Yeah, they were out of beef barley – that'd probably would have been better for you.”
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branchandroot
Re: Variation on Prompt #3 Part 3
Date: 2010-06-16 02:31 am (UTC)Dean made his way over to the table and sat, sniffling faintly. “What is it?”
“Trust me, you'll like it.” Sam said, sitting down opposite of him and pulling out his own container and spoon.
Not wanting to argue that the last time his brother had told him that, the food in question had been rhubarb pie – clearly something that didn't deserve the honor of being pie – he opened the container and looked down at the soup within. It was a distinct red color and in an instant, Dean knew what type it was. As he picked up his spoon and stirred the broth, he confirmed his suspicion. He knew Sam didn't know about their mom's tomato rice soup and how she used to make it for him when he was sick. He'd never mentioned it and kept the memory of the times his mom had made it for him tucked away in his mind for his own private viewing. He lifted the spoon to his lips and drank.
“Good?” Sam said from across the table, a spoonful of New England Clam Chowder halfway to his mouth.
“It's great, Sam.” He said with a tiny smile as he took another sip. “Tomato rice?” He said it in a manner that sounded surprised – as if the combination was almost absurd.
“Yeah, they were out of beef barley – that'd probably would have been better for you.”
“This is perfect Sammy.”
And it was.