(no subject)

[elinorwise]

The smell of cigarette smoke drew his attention to a man sitting outside the hotel, on a bench, in the dark. He cringed. “Sorry about the commotion,” he called as he headed for the sidewalk to wait for Sam. “Didn’t know we had an audience.”
The man nodded. The newly lit cigarette trembled very slightly when it was lifted to his mouth. “Didn’t mean to listen,” the man countered.
Dean wondered if he and his brother had somehow intimidated this guy. He hoped not. “Hard not to, I guess,” he murmured as he got closer. “Listen. I’ll pay you twenty bucks for whatever you got left in your pack.”
He laughed. He reached into his coat pocket and produced a crinkled pack of cigarettes, and shook it to show that it was empty. “Sorry, my friend,” he said in a very deep voice. “Here. You need it more than I do.”
Dean took hold of the offer and indulged in a long drag. He breathed it out slowly. “I don’t smoke,” he muttered, almost to himself.
“Neither do I,” the man chuckled.
He closed his eyes and drew in another long drag. “God, that’s good.”
“Quit long?”
“Over two years. Some days...some days are harder than others. Glad you didn’t have any more. I might’ve just chain smoked whatever you had.” He sighed, and stared at the cigarette a moment before handing it back. “Thanks. You’re a good guy.”
“Your friend. Will he be okay?”
Dean swallowed hard. “He always is. I don’t know what brought it on this time. But we always get it straightened out in the end.”
“He nearly hit you. He’s a big guy.”
“He ain’t heavy,” Dean murmured. “He’s my brother.”
At last, the man turned striking blue eyes on him. His elbows rested on his knees, and he was letting the cigarette burn to its filter. “He’s a good guy too. I can tell.”

Они пока не знакомы, но Сэм снес обоим мозги за один вечер. Двумя разными способами)
Пожалуй, мне нравится этот фик.
Оригинал записи на Дыбре