spn s1, millieverse; or: the pain of readjusting to having siblings again
“If the ghost only shows up-“ Flick. “Only shows up the week-“ Flick. “The week she was murdered-“ Flick. “Then we don’t have a lot of time to- Would you quit that?”
Flick. Millie pushes her chopstick under a piece of carrot and launches it out of the pile of rice to land on the open lid of the takeout container amid its fallen brethren. She glances up at Sam neutrally. “What?”
“Picking the vegetables out of your fried rice. You should eat them.” It’s like talking to a- Sam stops that thought a little too late, but before he can linger on the uncomfortable friction of it—hunting and his kid sister, Millie speaks up again.
“Rice is a vegetable,” she says. She stabs her chopstick into a piece of celery and deposits it on the other side of the takeout container. Another battle won. Or lost, in Sam’s view.
“No, it isn’t.” Millie looks at him like he’s stupid. He gets that too much from her. Not that he thinks he’s owed her respect, but he is older, and a few years out of the game doesn’t make him half as useless as she and Dean sometimes snicker about.
“It comes out of the ground,” she says, with a jab towards the motel carpet for emphasis. She dislodges a bit of chicken out of the rice, eyes gleaming. Sam watches the wood spear right through the heart of it and bring her its quarry.
She knows how to hold those things right. She’s doing that on purpose, too. Sam rolls his eyes.
“It’s a grain,” he tells her. “Like wheat. You don’t think wheat is a vegetable.” Millie stares right into him. A few seconds, a few more, unblinking dark eyes. That’s where she got Dad the most, in her eyes. Some old instinct makes Sam want to scowl; an older one makes him sit up straighter in his chair.
“Comes out of the ground, don’t it?” she says, her expression unchanged.
“Why are you even arguing with me? It’s a fact!”
“Fact that rice is a vegetable. Says so in the dictionary.”
“The dictionary doesn’t tell you what’s a vegetable or not.”
“Does when it’s rice.” Sam fumes. This is so stupid. She’s wrong. Where’s his laptop? He can prove it if he-
That’s when Dean comes back from what he said was a snack run and Sam measures was long enough to be a smoke break. Millie looks Sam in the eye and picks up some of the rice with her fingers to eat. There are no vegetables present in the clump she chooses. Because they’re all lying dead on the other end of the box.
“Head’s up,” is the only warning Dean gives him. Sam still catches the water bottle before it knocks him over the head. “See, those reflexes are coming back just like I said they would.”
“Out,” Dean answers. She looks utterly heartbroken. Sam holds no pity for her. He hopes every machine from here to wherever they leave for after they clear up this case- This was supposed to be about the case!
“The ghost-“ he starts up again for Dean. Dean catches sight of his face and does a double take.
“Jesus, who pissed in your cereal?” Sam clamps down on the scowl he hadn’t realized had gotten onto his lip eventually.
“Sam doesn’t think rice is a vegetable,” Millie says over him.
Sam glares at her. Millie picks broccoli out of the rice right in front of him and discards it. And then she eats some more of the chicken that she finds underneath, just to rub it in. He looks over at Dean, desperate for some measure of understanding here. Dean’s been stuck with her these past few years. He’s got to be as annoyed with her shit as Sam is from just this stretch of traveling.
Dean looks between the two of them, first confused, then exasperated, and finally, with a glance that lingers for a very long time on Millie—long enough that Sam also looks at her, but she’s back to her poker face and just blinks at him—he clicks his tongue. “Yeah, that’s a stupid argument.”
“See?” Sam says to their sister. Thank God.
“Rice is a vegetable, Sammy. Grows out of the ground, right?”
Sam is going to kill both of them.
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