Maybe It's Not So Bad - Plus Sized Reader

Two

"And that's it? Nothing else seemed off?"

I looked at Sam, lowering my next forkful of pancakes and shaking my head.

"If there had been anything amiss, you bet your ass I would have immediately messaged you but everything seemed pretty average."

Sam nodded slowly, his brows furrowing in thought as he stared at the table sitting between us, his own pancakes left forgotten in the styrofoam takeaway container.

"So," I start once my next mouthful is finished, setting the fork down beside my now empty container, "what do we do from here?"

He lifted his eyes to meet mine, pulled from his thinking and looking as if he had momentarily forgot I was even there in the first place.

Eventually, he shrugged.

"I guess we continue on as normal."

"Normal?" My voice came out shriller than I intended, my eyes widening. "How can we go on as 'normal'? What about any of this is normal?"

"None of it, but it's also not the weirdest thing we've encountered, we'll fix it."

I stared at him, my face a painting of embarrassed mortification.

"How can you be so calm about this?"

"Because you're freaking out enough for the both of us and at least of us need to be level-headed about things."

Leaning back in my seat, I crossed my arms over my chest, narrowed my eyes and pursed my lips, glaring at him.

"I begrudgingly concede your point."

Sam let out a huffed laugh and shook his head with a smile.

"I just thought you might."

I rolled my eyes and began to drum my fingers against my arm, pulling my lips to one side as my leg begins to bounce under the table.

"So what's our next move? We find the witch, make her break this curse and then fry her ass?"

"Or, alternatively, we get you some decent fitting clothes, then find the witch before she can hurt anyone else."

"As long as I get to fry the bitch for what she's done, I'm happy."

Sam smiled wryly then sat up straighter in his seat, reaching to pull his phone out of his jacket pocket.

"What are you doing?"

"Telling Dean to come over."

"What? No! Sam, I'm not ready."

He gives me a look over his phone, his eyebrow quirked just a little.

"It's only a matter of time until he comes to check on us anyway, he can probably hear us through the wall."

"If he isn't too busy sawing logs."

"If he is, then we'll head into town for when the stores open and catch him up when we get back."

I nodded slowly and Sam continued writing his message.

As I watched, I tried to calm the growing nerves in my stomach and swallow that lump that was rising into my throat once again.

My leg continued to bounce rapidly and I found myself chewing the sleeve of my jacket, not a common habit but one that I found myself doing subconsciously. I'd zipped up the jacket further once Sam had entered the room and the collar was now pulled up to my bottom lip, my mind wanting to hide everything from my nose below.

Even as a teen, I had found that I could deal with seeing myself from the lips up, I liked my eyes, my lips, my hair and, weirdly enough, my eyebrows. Sure, my nose could do with some work but for the most part I was okay with my face, but the fear of people seeing my chin double when I looked down always sparked a bout of self-consciousness.

So, it became a habit to pull my collar up to shield myself.

Old habits apparently died hard.

Every so often, Sam's eyes would flicker to me and he would give me something of a reassuring smile, the kindness in his eyes making my heart jolt and stomach flutter every time and I prayed that it didn't show on my face.

How he managed to stay such a sweetheart over the years of shit they'd had to deal with was both surprising and admirable, not that he couldn't be ruthless when he had to be, but his default seemed to be the comforter between the two brothers.

I must had drifted off for a moment while staring at Sam's phone as I was pulled out of my reverie when I felt a warm hand gently pull my sleeve away from my face and squeeze it comfortingly.

When I looked up at him, I see that same sympathetic and comforting expression he would give to the victim's families when he was talking to them, hoping to pry out information without making them too upset.

"Hey, you'll be okay," he said, giving me a gentle look.

I give a scoffed laugh and a wavering smile as I shook my head.

"That's okay for you to say, you don't look like this."

"No, but it could be worse, at least you're not being forced into a gameshow that wants to stop you from having kids."

The pained grimace he gave at the memory made me laugh and roll my eyes a little.

"If the life didn't stop you, that certainly would."

"Exactly and you still have your lungs, so all in all, it's not that bad."

Sighing through my nose, I twist my hand to grasp onto his fingers and start gently running my fingertips up and down them.

"Oddly enough, that isn't very comforting, but thank you all the same."

Letting go of his hand, I pushed the chair back and stood up, picking up my empty container.

Sam finally picked up his fork and started to eat while I threw my trash away and washed the fork in the small kitchenette in the corner of the room.

"How long do we have until the shops open?"

I glanced over my shoulder as Sam checked the time on his phone.

"About forty-five minutes."

"Great, I'll be back in about twenty."

"Where are you going?"

Setting the cutlery to once side, I wiped my hands off on my jacket then headed to the bathroom.

"To take the best shower I can with my eyes closed."