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Sam and Dean were grocery shopping for the bunker together when he saw it. Sitting there on the shelf—small, soft, and perfect: a stuffed moose. He unconsciously stilled upon seeing it.
Dean noticed a half-second later and stopped too. “That’s cute,” he said, approving in his own simple way.
Sam nodded and reached out for it. It was cute enough now, but he knew his regressed self would absolutely love it, and he knew he deserved it too. He never had anything like it growing up the first time. He wordlessly put it in the basket and kept walking.