Dean looked heartbroken. How was he going to explain to JC that he couldn’t keep his promise? This was going to suck. Just as he thought he’d figured it out, JC came in. Dean panicked.
“Hi, Dean,” he said cheerily
“I didn’t do it! I was dead at the time!” he yelled hysterically.
“What?”
Dean hung his head. “I can’t bring your stick back.”
“Why not?” JC asked, his mood sinking.
“The fin fell off…But it wasn’t my fault!”
“What happened, Dean?”
“I, uh, tripped over the rug and fell on it…It was the rug’s fault!”
“Oh, Dean…”
© Draickin und Phoenix
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