Chapter Text
“you’re so perfect Dean, the way you say my name means more than you’d ever know.”
Dean woke up with a throbbing headache. Dean has woken up to headaches a lot, to many times to actually count, perks of being an alcoholic. but this morning, for some reason, this was the worst he'd ever felt. from the way he stood up and fell back to his bed because he couldn't actually stand with a clear head, to the way when he stood up a second time, he needed to throw up.
rushing to his tiny bathroom in his cheap apartment, knocking down his temporary roommate, he throws up everything he had consumed last night. and it felt like it was never ending.
by the time he finished throwing up, having had gone back to the toilet seat three times, sweat swirled its way down his forehead, few tiny strands of hair being pinned by the moisture, his throat felt raspy and his mouth tasted like wet, soggy garbage from an unemployed, thirty-one year old, streamer who lives in his moms basement and takes a shower on rare occasions. points added that the guy has a strange addiction towards underaged anime girls.
but Dean would say a strip clubs dance floor after hours of having people throw up on it, stomp on it, kiss on it, and whatever else they do. strip clubs aren't for Dean. at least, not anymore. maybe when he was still sixteen, seventeen, playing hooky at school and going to bars, trying to get in. for the most part, he was able to, only on rare occasions did he get caught, even less reported.
but he's moved around to much to keep a name for himself, so his records are clean, save for stuff he stole to keep him and his little brother alive.
it's how he was able to become a teacher. and that the principal is a pervert and wanted to see Dean around more often.
Dean's now pressed against the short wall of his white, maybe yellow, bathtub, his chest heaving as he stares at the white ceiling. his green eyes slowly danced, blanketing over the crevices and lines that was forged into the ceiling tiles. he couldn't hear much, save for the buzzing of the fan in the bathroom, the silent twitch of electricity in his bathroom light, and his temporary roommates footsteps leading somewhere towards the kitchen, living area.
when his head finally stopped moving so fast and his eyes finally stopped dancing around, he pushed himself to lean over, slowly standing up with the help of the bath tub, the wall. he grunted in pain as he held his forehead gently with one big, calloused hand, his other gripping the edge of the sink.
he smacked his mouth, the taste of literal death stinging at his tongue making him internally gag. instantly he knew he was skipping breakfast to washing his mouth and teeth first.
Dean as a routine. wake up, grunt around in his bed, sulk cause he knows he has to get up, finally gets up, slips his shirt and pants on, makes breakfast, eat while watching whatever cartoons are on in the morning, brush his teeth, take a shower, and then his day is set.
he's decided to move breakfast after brushing his teeth, but the with way his stomach is churning and twisting in disgust and sickness, he doesn't think he'll be eating anytime soon.
he's slow moving, by now you'd think the young alcoholic would be used to these kinds of mornings and be able to make quick with his movements, yet here he is, proving any sober baby wrong.
as he brushes his teeth, he lets his eyes travel around his face, he looks like a mess. his eyes are almost sunken, his eye bags look progressively worse (that could just be the insomnia doing its job though), his hair, despite being short, is messy and pointing in plenty of ways, and the worst of all? bruises.
he lets his free hand trail his thick neck, fingers dancing along the bruises, most likely hickey's, that are painted on his skin in a way he's never seen before. the purple and red mixing together, it makes him look like a victim of a fight, but that couldn't be it. Dean can fight, and he can fight well, whether black out drunk, or as sober as when he came out of the womb.
his uneven nails, each bitten the same amount, tread on the hickey's, he's concluded, his fingers land on the darkest of them. he knew that spot. his weak spot.
"shhhit," he slowly says as snaps out of it, meeting his eyes and letting the palm of his hand smooth out the skin that dresses his neck.
he quirks a brow as he steps back and looks down, just as he suspected.
here Dean Winchester is, standing with nothing but his black boxers on. at least the person had the dignity to pull his boxers back on, or maybe he did, because he can't remember a single moment.
but with how the dark purple bruises stare up at him, each one as pretty as the next, dressed messily on his thighs, tell Dean he had a fun night. he almost sulks he can't remember the chick that went that messy on him.
he wonders for a second what she looked like, what she looked like with her mouth dressing his co- and then he stops and shakes his head. he had a day in front of him, he knew that last night yet still went bar jumping with Benny.
not that he regrets though, just a month before his new school year starts, and tomorrow he has to actually check in to work to set up for his kids for that year. today, he was busy with checking in early. sure, tomorrow he was supposed to turn in, but that doesn’t mean he should. he has to prep for Junior year world History and his basketball team. of course, he’s gonna start early. then again, she should’ve started early two weeks ago, when Gabriel, the Kansas history teacher and girls volleyball coach, started prepping.
but that doesn’t mean anything, Dean’s not exactly the early type. sleeping in on Sunday’s was engraved in his weekly schedule.
and he had to prep his apartment. again, something he should’ve done weeks ago, but he pushed it off till
last minute. and now, he has to stock his cabinets, stock his fridge, clear up space, actually clean his office that had become an at-home gym for summer, cause who can pay for a gym membership with his paycheck? i mean come on, his temporary roommate sleeps on his couch, it’s a good thing Benny’s an early riser, because he would get zero sleep as Dean blasts his music while making breakfast.
Dean spits his mouth wash out, huffing a breath and significantly satisfied with himself for having a non-death smell-filled mouth. he sighs as he leans over the sink once more, hesitating at first but then ducking his head down, drinking in the cold water of the slightly dirty sink, but that doesn’t scare Dean, he grew up with used condoms spilling over the trashcan and cigarette buds dirtying drinking water.
he leans up again, his headache thudding but not as bad as before. he makes eye contact with himself, but looks away before any dark thoughts could over take his mind.
he turns his back and walks out the door, he hadn’t bothered shutting it, knowing his gagging and sobbing sounds wouldn’t be blocked by the thin white door. and he was more worried about getting his yesterday’s dinner and alcohol intake from last night into the toilet rather than let it seep into his creaky wood floors.
he only used the wall a few times as he walked to the kitchen, Benny’s broad shoulders turned to Dean. Dean doesn’t bother saying anything, choosing to just sit at one of the creaky chairs at the old table Dean had pawned off of a couple moving to New York when he first moved into this rental and had nothing but the backpack hung by his shoulders and duffel bag in a harsh grip of his hand.
he sighed and hung his head low, his hands hugging his forehead and rubbing harshly on his temples, trying to calm the throbbing just a little more.
“you,” Benny starts and turns around, sliding a cup of water over to Dean, “look like shit, my friend.”
Dean huffed a laugh, looking up at his best friend. Benny’s always been able to grow a beard, and for the longest time, Dean found himself jealous. but, we all can’t be winners.
Dean let one hand fall, letting it gently cup the almost clear plastic cup and downed the water. the water helped, taking a little edge off his headache, but still, the headache did its job, hurt and annoyed the hell out of Dean.
“yeah, shut up,” Dean muttered as he pushed the cup slowly from his, now realizing it, chapped lips, “uh,” Dean started up, letting the cup down and onto the table, “did you see who was here..?” Dean asked, embarrassed a little by how he didn’t know.
Benny shrugged and went back to the oven, “not really, the guy left when i was gettin up,” Benny explained while he pushed the almost done scrambled eggs around in the pan.
Dean stopped everything, paused breathing, paused blinking, he swore his heart stopped, “guy..?”
Benny looked over his shoulder, sparring Dean a short, curious glance before going back to the pan in front of him.
Benny shrugged, “i think, could’ve been a woman..” he paused and then carried on, his voice dancing with slight humor, “with broad shoulders, a brown trench coat and short hair. but you usually go for blonds?” Benny asked, “do you not remember last night?”
Dean huffed, “not a damn clue, but it was definitely a woman, Benny, i don’t like men,” Benny shrugged and turned the stove off, moving the eggs onto two plates.
“you may not like’em, but you sure wanna fu-” before he could finish his sentence, Dean coughed loud and harsh, and fake.
“shut up!” he yelled, his face flushing, “we agreed not to talk about George!”
“you,” Benny said as he slid a plate in front of Dean, “you agreed not to talk about George,” Benny clarified, taking the only other seat at the table.
Benny and Dean had fallen into a routine ever since Benny had gotten kicked from his girlfriend’s house, which was in the middle of last years school year.
the routine is Benny makes breakfast for the two, save for weekends where Dean makes pancakes and waffles, then Dean cleans up the mess while Benny takes his bathroom time. and then depending on which week, depends on the next.
you see, Benny isn’t just some freeloader, Dean wouldn’t be able to pay for two grown men with alcohol problems with his pay check, but Benny’s a firefighter. his usual schedule is three days on duty, three days off. which, despite being a messy addiction to the routine, still fits perfectly with the two.
today’s Benny’s shift, after having four days, him having a vacation day for Dean so the two could have one last “drink all night and have no work tomorrow,” together, since Dean’s work is hitting now.
“whatever,” Dean muttered, and despite what he had said earlier, he scarfs down his food. he can’t let it go to waste.
the two sit in silence, both eating their eggs, toast and sausage Benny had bought three weeks ago.
finally finished with his food, Dean gets up, his chair making an uncomfortable screeching noise again the wooden floor, and walked into his very small kitchen.
Dean’s rental home was a small, two bedroom, one turned into his office before he even thought about having a roommate, a small kitchen that’s connected to a small living room and finally, the smallest of the main rooms, the bathroom with one closet space right behind the door when it opens all the way.
the place is cheap, and Dean probably could get something nicer, but the neighborhood is quiet and the house only a block away, plus he felt no need. who does he have to impress? Sammy? nah, he hasn’t been back to Kansas in years, and even then, he got a motel room and refused to go into Dean’s house. was Dean hurt? sure, will he admit that? hell no.
but Dean was able to get over it. maybe he’ll have a few sob sessions when he’s drunk about how Sammy couldn’t careless about him, left him all alone after John’s death, how Sammy only sends a text for holiday’s and birthday’s. but nobody needs to know that. the only people that do are the random unfortunate strangers who get to awkwardly sit their while a grown man sobs about how his little brother doesn’t like him.
when Dean’s done, he stands to get the dishes clean and clear the table. but Benny stops him.
“woah woah, get some clothes on, first, and second, i’ll get the chores. you should probably go clean your office for all the paperwork that’s gonna be comin’ in soon,” Benny talks while he gathers the empty plates into his large hands, walking them to the shared sink.
“you ain’t gotta tell me twice,” he grumbled yet stops at the entrance where the two bedrooms, one being an office now, and tiny bathroom was.
in a low, muttering voice, “thanks Benny,” and then he turns his head straight, and walks down the hall, entering his bedroom.
entering his bedroom, Dean finally got a good look around. it was messy, but that was a usual for Dean. he felt just a tad bit embarrassed he had brought someone home to this mess.
he started with his bed, making it look semi-good. as he was pulling the sheets around the corner, he got a whiff of smell he hadn’t smelled before.
or at least he didn’t remember. not until he grabbed a bunch of the blanket and pulled it to his nose, breathing it in softly. and then his headache increased, harsh and fast.
he grunted as he brought a hand to his forehead, and then memories came flooding in.
Dean’s head was rolling against his headboard, his mouth open, soft moans rolling off his tongue.
hands gripped at his thighs, gripping and holding him in place so he doesn’t jerk into the persons mouth. a mouth encased around his down below parts.
all he could hear was heavy panting, it was his mixed with the person down below. both of them panted and groaned.
until a voice broke through those pants and grunts.
“Dean,” the way he said his name, shit he might’ve just came to that, but the gruff, deep voice continued, “look at me.”
Dean couldn’t open his eyes, they were screwed shut. one finger on his thigh loosened, gently tapping Dean, trying to etch Dean’s attention towards themselves.
“look at me, or else i’ll stop,” and that tipped Dean’s attention downwards towards the person. before he could remember the persons face, Dean snapped back to reality.
holy fuck.. it was a man.
when Dean finished cleaning his room, taking a little longer to let his semi-hard on calm down, he went to his office to clean up. he had a sock in his hand when he entered his office and stood at the door, huffing at all the work he needs to do.
he walks in, letting the foreign sock fall onto his desk. he started with the floor, picking up all the weights and organizing them by his wall. after the weight set, he started picking up books that fell from his shelf.
it took him a while to clean the floor and take his over flowing trash out, no wonder Sammy didn’t want to come over, his house was a mess.
as he was sitting some tall books up, all about history from different countries, he paused and stared at a picture frame.
Sammy was in it, he was grinning up at the camera. his first day of real school. Sammy was heading to second grade, having been homeschooled for kindergarten and First. Dean remembers taking that photo. Dean never had photo’s of himself, never really caring for first days and stuff. but each year after that first one, Dean took Sammy’s photo.
and it just so happens, he forgot this one. granted, Dean never actually read these books, actually he hasn’t done anything on this shelf but use it to make himself look smart during zoom calls. it was a good strategy, it helped land him his job. at least he thinks so, he’s not exactly the smartest cookie, actually, he’d say he was quite dumb. but Dean likes to think like that. that he’s the worst of the worst, the dumbest of the dumb. maybe not like, but for some reason, that’s just how he thinks, and he doesn’t plan on changing something he’s fully convinced himself of.
after a little moment of staring at you Sammy, his mind traveling towards how he is now, Dean doesn’t know. the two haven’t talked in months. only rare texts. Deans fast to realize that if he doesn’t leave that thought behind, he would end up popping open a beer and drinking the rest of his day away, and he really didn’t want to do that, not when he has so much to do still.
so he shakes his head harshly, chasing the thoughts of Sammy with loud barks and teeth bared.
finishing up with the shelf, he travels to his desk, his eyes dancing between the used mugs with coffee still in it, all from last school years when he actually used to office as an office, his many sunglasses sent by Sammy each Christmas and birthday since the big fight, some paperwork from last year, and then big thick binders, papers peeking out from each end, all labeled countries oceans. hey, give Dean some credit, though not to much since he had only scanned through each one and then went off of google and whatever his brain could think of. Dean sometimes wonders how he isn’t fired yet.
picking up each mug, dumping each at a time into the bathroom sink, not wanting to walk all the way to kitchen with a chance of spilling the cold, moldy coffees. a smell he knew he wouldn’t be able to get out from his creeky wood floors.
after disposing each coffee mug, Dean came to the conclusion that they were the cause of that eerie smell in their, as his office was only hen starting to smell normal.
he fixed up his binders, placing each paper neatly, then let them fall onto a random space on his shelf. he threw the old paper away, knowing he wouldn’t need any. except something caught his eye.
he paused walking away from his trashcan, turning back and bending at his knees, letting his hands travel the trash can that was emptied just a few moments before.
finding what caught his eye, he pulled it out. he paused again, a picture. he felt his skin shiver as he stared at his dead parents grinning at the camera, each parent holding a kid. Dean being held closely by his mom, cheek to cheek, both grinning goofily. John had Sammy tucked into his arm, grinning while he had an arm wrapped around his wife. Dean hadn’t seen this picture in a long time.
he stood up and almost stumbled, its like seeing ghosts.
he walks to his desk, pulling a random drawer opening and letting the photo fall into it, he’d rather not see that while trying to get stuff done. he shut the drawer door with a harsh thud and slumped onto his roll-y chair. he hung his head, his hands hugging his forehead, and sighed. he doesn’t know just how many times he’d sighed like this before.
he let his mind overtake around the ghosts of his parents. he let that feeling of love and needing take over, how much he needed his mother to hug him, engulf him in motherly love. how much he needed his father to pat his shoulder almost harshly, causing him to stumble just a bit, and then tell him in his deep, father voice how proud he is of him. but that couldn’t happen. he can’t remember his last hug from his mom, and he doesn’t remember John ever saying how proud he was of Dean.
letting himself be engulfed by his thoughts, he barely heard his phone ring. on its last two rings did Dean jump out of it and flip it over, seeing who’s calling.
Dean smiled slightly before pulling his phone to his ear after answering.
“took your damn time, huh?” Jo’s voice filled the room, and Dean felt his shoulders go slack, it’s been a while since he’s talked to the girl, though in reality it’s just been three days.
“didn’t hear it ring, pounding headache from all that fun you missed out on,” Dean teased slightly as he used his feet to turn the chair back and forth gently.
“oh please, you’re the one that missed out on fun,” Jo retorted, teasing him back.
“with what? Asher’s nonsense on aliens while he’s drunk dumb?”
“no,” she let out a soft laugh, “we had board games out also,” and that pulled a laugh from Dean.
“oh no, please don’t say more, i’m already regretting not going to your grandma’s 83rd birthday.”
Dean could practically hear the eyeroll, “yeah well, she asked about you, anyways, hook up with anyone for your last night free?”
Dean’s mind uncontrollably switched over to his night of fun before shaking his head, he was on call with Jo, that’s nasty.
“nope,” he popped the p, he’s rather not tell Jo about his gay sex.
“really? surprised you’re not crying over being rejected.”
“hardy har,” Dean said with an eye roll, “and i wasn’t rejected, i didn’t wanna hook up,” it was a white lie, but it was small so it’s fine.
Jo gasped, “who did you hook up with, Dean Winchester?” she asked accusingly.
Dean scoffed, “i already told you, nobody,” he reassured, yet he knew Jo wouldn’t let it go.
“was it Benny? i knew you guys had some gay shit going on,” and she means well, Jo is far from homophobic, at least that’s what her whole ass girlfriend says, but Dean thinks different. but he’s no better, most think he’s as homophobic as a Idaho rancher.
“oh please, Benny would never go for a guy like me,” Dean says jokingly, “and i’m pretty sure the man’s straight.”
“okay, but you didn’t comment on how you’re hetero,” Jo notes.
“oh shut up, you know i am,” hinting back to when the two dated for a year and a half before breaking up.
she rolled her eyes, “just cause i’d sleep with you, doesn’t mean i know that. could be a cover up,” and he could hear her shrug, the fabric of her clothes rubbing together.
“mhm,” Dean hummed, “how’s Hailee? still treatin her right?”
“rude to assume i don’t, but yes,” her voice sounded more pitchy, almost offended like, “took her to dinner after grammie’s birthday party.”
Dean felt an ache, he was so single, but completely over Jo, only seeing her as a friend now.
“well aren’t you just a sweetheart, y’know, you never took me out?”
“oh please, do you remember our income? we were broker than broke.”
Dean shrugged his shoulders in agreement, she wasn’t wrong, “very true, can’t expect much from two college students.”
“agreed, so fucking happy i’m out of that place,” she groaned.
“you can say that a billion times and i’d still agree,” Dean says, thinking back to his studying days. he hated it, and is somewhat surprised he had passed with how much he went out partying.
“anyways, wanna meet tonight? it’s fry day over at Sommers Sunset.”
“that new place?” Dean asked as he went over the thought in his head, already knowing he’d agree, “heard it was shit.”
“yeah, but it’s free unlimited fries with each meal,” he could hear her shrug once more.
“yeah sure, i am going to the school today though, doing some prep before real prep starts.”
she hummed, “don’t you report in tomorrow?”
“yeah, can’t wait,” he said sarcastically.
“mhm, i bet,” she said grimly, “school starts in like a month, right?”
“yeah, it’s gonna be great, a bunch of high schoolers, all day for the next year,” he said sarcastically.
“you chose the job,” she noted.
he groaned, “don’t remind me.”
“alright, well i’ll let you get back to your prep before prep, and see you at six?”
“you know it,” and with that, the phone makes that beep beep beep noise, a sound Dean doesn’t like. he may not exactly enjoy calls, but it’s better than the loneliness that eats him up inside slowly but surely.
he slides his phone on to his desk and looks around it. his laptop that was shut six weeks ago, only never open again till he needs to use it again, looks dusty now. he huffs a chuckle and wipes a hand over it.
the thoughts from before still lurk in the darkness of his mind, and he knows, so he ignores it by busying himself with cleaning.
it didn’t take him much over an hour to finish his room, vacuumed and all, and by the time he was don’t it was 1:21PM.
he sighed as he looked down at his attire, baggy gray sweat pants, the white strings uneven, a navy blue hoodie that’s big enough to leave room for his muscular arms and bag just a little past his waist. and of course, mismatched socks, on white, the other a neon blue with the words “good luck!”, a present from Gabe who thought he was funny for it.
he quickly for dressed, now in boot cut jeans, the fabric only slightly hugging his thighs and ass, and a black T shirt, a red thin unbutton plaid shirt and a deep brown leather jacket that almost meets his thighs.
he slid his boots on, tying it fast and in many loops so it doesn’t go undone, and makes his way out, sliding his keys off the counter and into his hand.
before exiting the door, Benny calls to him from the couch just paces from the front door, “get some milk when you’re headed back,”
Dean pulled the door open and before exiting he turned fully to Benny, nodding with a grim smile, he knows for a fact he won’t remember that.
“sure will,” Dean says almost sarcastically.
“i’ll text you,” Benny says as he pauses typing away on his computer.
“you know me so well, Benny boo,” and then leaves, closing the door behind him.
he pauses to stare at the most beautiful thing to exist on this shitty world. Baby. a 1967 Chevrolet Impala.
he grins as he walks up to it, spreading his arms on it for a hug, “what a beauty you are, Baby?” he mutters against the hot metal.
he breathes her in, which doesn’t smell good but to Dean, she smells like pure heaven. he walks back and pull her door open, sitting down smoothly.
“oh how i’ve missed ya,” he says as though he doesn’t take her for a drive each night. he rubs his hands around her steering wheel before finally twisting the key in and pausing to hear her rawr to life.
“so perfect,” he mutters and then quickly gets to driving. he looks behind him, smoothly putting her in reverse, and then backing out of his driveway.
the rental looks better on the outside, it’s just the Dean Effect kicking in on the inside.
the neighborhood is also semi-nice. nothing big, nothing to known, you’d have to give directions to it when telling people where you live, but it’s also nothing to unknown, Dean knows a few teens from the school that lives there. it’s not exactly big either, they discontinued it, making it a forgotten project. some houses get built here and there in time, but, so far it stays the same medium, just how Dean likes it.
he drives down a few houses, having to stop as some people are carrying a big dresser. Dean sighs, impatience nipping at his calm thoughts now. just as they were making it enough for Dean to slip by, one person actually does slip.
Dean acts immediately as he sees the dresser fall. quickly exiting his vehicle, leaving Baby in the middle of road, but it’s not like anyone’s going anywhere but church on a Sunday so he’s fine.
“hey, you alright?” he calls as the other person got the other end of the dresser down, quickly crouching to the guy.
Dean runs up and around the big brown box, “you alright man?” he asks as he takes in the situation.
nothing bad, it was a kid who dropped, he looked just barely seventeen.
the kid groaned as he cradled his wrist, “oh gosh, oh gosh,” he muttered, tears brimming his screwed shut eyes.
Dean moved around and crouched, one arm on his knee as he gently took the kids wrist into his own.
“damn,” he muttered, “does this hurt?” he asked gruffly as he poked at his wrist.
the kid winced, “yes it does hurt sir.”
Dean sighed, “alright, c’mon,” Dean grunted as he stood, helping the kid to stand, “good job, alright, you got your mom or dad around?”
the kid looked up at Dean, Dean paused everything. puppy dog eyes. Dean could already see Sammy and his puppy dog eyes. he’d act like this too, crying because he got hurt. pain squeezed at Dean’s heart and he softened, his frown gently smoothing to a calm expression.
“it’s alright kid,” Dean muttered.
“is everything alright?” a gruff voice spoke up and Dean flinched. Dean looked up and saw a man walking out of the house. he wore a white button up, a loose blue tie with navy blue strips, black pants with a leather belt and clean black church shoes. he looked good, that’s for freaking sure.
“this your kid?” Dean asked, standing up straighter but slouching a little when the man came closer, revealing he was actually shorter. his messy hair only getting to the top of Dean’s forehead.
Dean felt a shiver as the man got closer, Dean getting a more clear view on him. his face was clean of hair and had a sharp jaw line. his nose was pointy and slightly narrow and his eyes looked almost emotionless. his eyes were a navy blue, which clashed well with his dark brown hair. Dean’s never seen a guy more handsome, save for himself, yet this man felt so familiar.
and from the way the man had paused, as if recognizing Dean, made Dean wonder if he’s met the man before.
the man quickly recouped himself, looking over at the kid.
“yes, that is my son, what’s wrong?”
“seems like your kid can’t handle this heavy shit,” Dean scolded himself for cursing himself in front of kids, he’s gotten the habit from teaching for years, “sorry,” he mutters grimly, “the heavy, uh, furniture, anyways, you should get’em to a doctor, get his wrist checked out.”
that’s when the other guy from before bumped in, “i’ll take him to the doctors, we need some nephew, uncle time,” the guy said almost cheekily and Dean already knew he hated the guy.
the man from before stepped in, “no, i’ll just take him,” and before you know it, Dean is stuck between the two men holding a kids wrist as they go back and forth on who’s taking the injured one to a doctor.
finally, his patience ran dry, “alright,” he raises his voice a little, “it’s the kids dad decision, now shut up,” Dean says annoyed as he glared at the toy.
the blue eyed man paused and stared at Dean like a deer stuck looking at headlights. and then he sighs, “Jack, go with your uncle,” then he turns to the other guy, “only to the hospital and back.”
the guy grins in a goofy way as he pushed passed Dean and the blue eyed man to get to his nephew.
“i’m serious Lucifer,” that’s a weird name, Dean thinks, but he wasn’t one to judge.
“hey hey, i go by Chad now, remember? all that bible shit is out the door,” Lucifer, or Chad, says as he guides the kid named Jack to one of the cars parked in the drive way. Dean only then realized it and he gawked for a second at how beautiful it was a 2013 Shelby GT500, clean and looked like it was recently painted.
Dean stared in awe as the man got the kid in the passenger seat, let it drop back and out of the drive way before driving out of the neighborhood.
“hello,” the man says that makes Dean jump and then to him, he needs a bell on him or something, or maybe Dean should pay attention more. who knows.
“…hi?” Dean asks in a weird way.”
“i’m Castiel,” he puts his hand out for Dean to shake and he does so.
“Dean Winchester, you new to the neighborhood?” Dean asked, it was an obvious question but it held up conversation.
“yes, that is why we were putting my furniture into that house,” he said something so sarcastic like, yet sounded completely normal.
Dean rolled his eyes, “yeah well, come on,” he turned around and went to one of the dresser.
Castiel looked at him weird, “what?” he asked in a rough voice.
“i mean come on, i can’t drive with this thing in the way,” and Castiel seem to get it.
Castiel went to the other side and almost at the same time, Dean getting down just a little faster, the two crouched and gripped the bottom of it.
“alright, you ready?” Dean asked as he stared into the brown wood of the box.
“yes, i am ready,” the man replied.
“alright, on 3,” Dean paused to hear an objection before doing the count down, “3, 2, 1,” and yet when Dean picked it up, Castiel was a few moments late.
“i said on three,” Dean grunts as the weight even’s out.
“i don’t know what that means,” the man grunts back and the two start walking. Castiel had stumbled a little, thankfully not dropping the big heavy dresser, and after Dean had laughed at him for it, Dean also tripped and almost fell.
the two were able to get into the house and take the dresser into the only bedroom on the first floor. yes, first floor. Dean hadn’t been in one these in a long time, all his friends being as just more poor as himself and not having that luxury of two story houses.
the house wasn’t big, his first floor just as big as Dean’s, and his top floor was most likely smaller, but it still had a ways more square feet than Dean.
Dean had followed Castiel to the kitchen where he pulled two cokes out of the fridge that most likely came with the house.
“so, new to the city?” Dean asked as he pulled the drink from his lips.
“yes,” Castiel answered as he took his own sip.
“any reason to move to the shittiest town in Kansas?” Dean asked, taking a swig of his drink.
“my brother lives here,” Castiel answered.
“ahh, the good ole’ sibling tricks, helps populate the place, keeps us on the map,” Dean says jokingly yet no laugh escapes Castiel’s mouth.
Dean coughed awkwardly as he finished off his drink, Castiel carefully sipping away at his own.
“alright well, i’m uh, gonna go, thanks for the drink,” Dean says awkwardly as he points to the front door.
“wait,” Castiel says as he steps forward, Dean had taken a step back.
shit, i’m gonna get murdered, was all Dean could think about as he stared at the shorter guy. then the thoughts of “i could beat him,” “he doesn’t look that muscular,” followed close behind.
“what..?” Dean asked cautiously.
“could you help me with the rest? i can pay you,” Dean looks at him weird.
“you can’t call your brother?” Dean asks as he relaxes.
Castiel nodded his head, “he’s busy for the day, with work.”
Dean hummed, considering the idea. he wouldn’t exactly hate helping the guy. but he wouldn’t like missing out on his extra prep for his schedule prep.
then he made eye contact with those navy blue eyes and knew he was win over.
it took the two men three hours to finish, which is amazing timing, considering it would usually take about five to unload a whole ass truck. and Dean had only found out after agreeing to help that the two men and kid had only gotten a mattress and bed frame through the door before the kid got hurt.
Dean didn’t exactly mind spending time with Castiel, and turns out awkward is just his personality. Dean was glad only for a few minutes that he was a teacher.
Dean also found out a few more things about Castiel. one, he’s a pretty religious guy, heavy on God and all that, two, he likes cartoons and doesn’t find them childish to enjoy. only one of those things does Dean actually like and believe in.
Dean also found out the kids mother died a few months ago, causing the sudden change in environment. the two didn’t talk much about that, steering back to good soda drinks and why cartoons aren’t childish.
“that’s what i’m saying!” Dean yells with a grin as he slams his palm onto the table, “how can Tom be a ‘bad guy’ when all he’s doing is being a cat!”
Castiel nods affirmatively, agreeing wholeheartedly heatedly.
“ah jeez,” Dean considers bringing up Sammy, but from the way Castiel is looking at him, he quickly decides to do so, “my little brother thinks i’m crazy,” he chuckles softly, “that i’m ’so childish Dean’, i should put you in the phone with’em, tell’em i ain’t crazy,”
Dean chuckled in a gasp-y way and his breath stopped when Castiel asked, “does your brother not live here?”
Dean laughed again, this time no humor etched to it.
he places his fourth can of cola down on the counter and looked to the side, a picture Castiel had placed on a magnet an hour ago was on the fridge and he stared at it. it was Castiel and Jack. Jack seemed like he was eight, Castiel looked younger, yet he also looked younger when he laughed, Dean had found out.
the two stood next to one another, they looked almost carbon copy with mannerism.
“Dean?” Castiel asked, and Dean also found that he kinda loved the way Castiel said his name. he won’t admit that though.
being pulled out his thoughts, he answered the question, “nah, he’s in California,” Dean pitched his voice at the State, making it sound like a great and glorious place, yet his voice is dripped in sarcasm.
“you seem to not enjoy that.?” Castiel asked as he bent a little, trying to get Dean’s attention back to himself rather than the counter the two stood at.
Dean looked up and met Castiel’s eyes, “was it hard for you when you lived far from your brother?” Dean asked, his voice heavy yet gentle, genuinely curious.
Castiel took a moment to respond before deciding on “no, it wasn’t hard for me to live far my elder brother.”
Dean felt his heart sink as he looked back at the counter. Castiel’s a younger brother. Sammy’s his younger brother. did Sammy really not care?
Dean chuckled softly, “well, it’s hard for me,” Dean muttered.
it went quiet and Dean considered leaving. just as Dean took a breath to admit he was gonna go, Castiel spoke up.
“but me and siblings have a weird relationship. i didn’t grow up with Gabriel or Lucifer, so i don’t really see them as older brothers, just siblings by name.”
Dean paused and looked back up.
“i’m sure your brother misses you Dean, me and my family are just a special case,” Castiel says softly and Dean almost folded with how his name sounded rolling off the navy blue eyed man’s tongue.
Dean coughed and looked around, his face heating fast, “uh, i, uh have to go, y’know, work calls,” Dean says in a rushed way as he backed up, not making eye contact with Castiel.
“uh, bye Cas, cya later,” and then Dean is out the door.
only when he gets to his car does he realize he hadn’t got his keys. he groans and hits his head softly on the top of Baby whom is parked at the curb side.
he mutters as he turns and Castiel is there. Dean jumps, not expecting Castiel to be there. yep, the man needs a bell and it’s not just Dean being forgetful and in his thoughts.
“you forgot these,” and Dean’s green eyes travelled to the man’s pushed out hand, a very familiar key chain with a very familiar set of keys strung onto it laid prettily in the man’s hand.
Dean chuckled awkward, “ thanks, i just remember them,” he slid the keys from Castiel’s to his own, their hands brushing just the tiniest of moments together.
Dean sputtered as he scratched the back of his neck, “uh, so, i’m gonna, y’know, leave now, it was uh, fun talking with you and helping you out, *cough* i’ll see you later Cas.”
Dean hit his head on his leather covered steering wheel as he pulled to a stop at a red light. his face had been non-stop on fire ever since he left Cas’ house.
Dean cursed himself as he looked back up, the light turning green. he pushed the stick into the right place and drove forward. it didn’t take him long to pull into Sommers Sunset diner. the parking lot wasn’t loaded with cars, only three others, one of them Dean recognized as Jo’s old truck she refuses to get rid of.
he pulls the stick back, sliding it into park as he pushes his door open, stepping one let out one by one.
his feet feel heavy as he breathed in the cool wind. he hadn’t went to the school, instead drove his happy ass to a local park, old and rusted, and sat in his car for half an hour. after that, he simply drove around before choosing to spend the rest of his day at home. when he got back to his rental, Benny slightly scolded him for forgetting about the milk before turning his attention back to the television. and of course, Dean had slumped into the old sofa and watched along with Benny.
after promising to bring Benny some food, Dean made his way to the diner. which brings him to here. pulling open a glass door, a bell above his head ringing, signaling people he entered.
when he walked fully in, the place smelled like burgers mixing with new paint, which wasn’t exactly refreshing and made him wish he were outside once more. there was a lot of people in the lobby, a family of three and then five teens.
and then his eyes met Jo’s, the two smiling in a goofy way when seeing one another. Dean waved as he stood at the doorway before walking over to her spot in a booth.
he slid into the booth seat in front of her, quickly saying a hey.
“hey yourself, stranger,” she said softly as she sipped at her drink, pushing the second one to him, “pepsi,” she muttered.
he nodded and took it into his hand, taking a sip of it to make sure she didn’t put pepper or ketchup in it. after clearing the fact that she didn’t poison him with condiments, he spoke up.
“Hailee stayin in tonight?” Dean asked.
“yup, wants me to bring a burger and fry back.”
“Benny to,” he agreed, “Missy still good for ya?” Dean nods to where her truck is, Jo glancing out the window to the truck she had grown up in, where her father would drive her around in, where her daddy taught her drive.
“as always,” she said almost offended, “Baby still good?”
“as new,” Dean said with a proud grin, “how’s your ma?” Dean’s never been close to Ellen, then again, he’s never tried being close to any woman that could be his mother. he didn’t want to betray his mom like that.
“all good, Bobby?”
Dean sighed and looked at the table, “the cancer ain’t stoppin’ any time soon..” he looked up and met Jo’s eyes, “they’ve stabilized it for now.”
she looked at him with big pitiful eyes and he rolled his own, looking to the side, “don’t do that, Jo, don’t look at me so,” he paused and met her eyes, “so much pity.”
“Dean, it’s alright,” she spoke up, “he was your dad,”
“Jo,” he interrupted her, “not now… please..?” Dean’s never rarely says please, usually using it for sex. but Jo’s a different case. Jo’s earn her pleases from him.
she sighed, “alright, no cancer or Bobby talk.”
“thank you,” he huffed and she rolled her eyes.
“such a child,” she commented as she took a sip from her long straw of her own drink, dr pepper, she’s always preferred over any fountain drink. beer takes the win over all drinks though, no matter how much she preaches it’s disgusting.
“me? pah shh” she says grimly and before he could say anything else, a young boy’s voice spoke up.
“Mr. W??” Dean almost winced at the name. he turned his head and looked up, Mason Collen.
“Mason?” Dean said gruffly.
the kid looked stunned for a second before a goofy, childish grin filled his face, “i’m surprised you remember me! you old man, dementia not hittin’ yet?” the kid asked as he chuckled, Jo adding in her laugh.
“you think you’re so fuckin’ funny, huh?” Dean asked the kid gasped.
“woah woah, Mr. W, you can’t just curse like that!” he yells, yet Dean only makes smiles and laughs of the comment.
Dean rolled his eyes, “pardon my French, kid, but we aren’t on school grounds.”
“what made’ya think that?” the kid asked sarcastically.
Dean’s always liked Mason. his second best shooter on his team, Chester taking first. Mason was sarcastic, nerdy, tall, like Sammy.
“shut up, nerd, now what are ya doing here? mom take you out to lunch?”
“please stop trying to hit on my mom,” the kid grimaced and shuddered at the memories of Deans, failed, attempts at wooing his mother, “and i’m working.”
“well damn! didn’t know you had a job kiddo,” Dean said with a proud grin.
the kid’s face flushed slightly, “yeah.. i got it when school went out.”
“good on you kid, i’m proud of ya,” Dean says as he pats Mason’s arm harshly, making the kid stumble just an inch or few.
Dean knows what it’s like to not have someone say they’re proud of him. he doesn’t want Mason to go through that.
“thanks,” the kid says sheepishly, “anyways, i can’t lose this job, so what’ya want?”
“is that how you talk to all your customers?” Dean asked in fake stun.
“course not, only you, and this lucky lady,” the kid looked over at Jo, his thick short afro moving just the tiniest of bits, “how much he pay you to go on a date with’em?”
Dean looked at him with pure, sarcastic, shock, “i’m sorry?? she PAID me to go out with her to make it look like she isn’t lonely!”
Jo chuckled and grinned up at the kid, “you’re cute kid, but i’ve got a lover back at home.”
the blushed a little, “course you do! you could never want a sleezebag like this guy,” he shrugged towards Dean.
Dean huffed, “alright kid, your boss is given you the stink eye,” and sure enough, a grouchy looking woman was standing by the counter, giving Mason the meanest glare.
he shivered, “make sure to compliment me, she’s scary as shit,” Mason muttered, bending so Dean could hear.
Dean chuckled softly, “watch your language, kid, better not hear that during practice,” Dean scolded lightly.
“yeah yeah, alright, what can i get’ya guys?”
their orders were taken semi-fast, Dean just ordering three of what Jo got and Jo getting what she saw first that actually sounded good.
Dean broke the silence first after Mason walked away.
“thought this place only just opened?”
Jo was fast to agree, “so glad i wasn’t the only one who noticed,” she muttered before turning her attention fully back to Dean, “he one of you basketball kids?”
Dean took a sip of his drink, “yeah, good kids, damn good player.”
she hummed, “good to hear this shitty town actually has some good kiddos.”
“you’re preachin to the choir Jo,” he agreed, it was hard to find good kids in the highschool, even more so one of them pure ones, the ones who don’t curse, break rules, the ‘boring’ ones. but Dean takes what he gets, if he couldn’t, he would’ve been fired and before that wouldn’t have went to school to be a teacher in the first place.
“so you gonna tell me who slept with last night?”
Dean choked on his drink as he looked at Jo with. crazy eyes and scrunched eyebrows, “what? dude! my kids hear!” he whispered yelled.
Jo rolled her eyes, “puh-lease, that kids got better to do than eves drop in on his basketball coaches sex life.”
“hey, why don’t you scream it to the world while your at it?” Dean asks, his voice genuine but question sarcastic.
Jo quirked a brow at him as if edging him on to tell her everything. about the night he had, about who it was with, everything. when they broke up, neither stopped caring about one another, Dean never stopped seeking her attention, Jo never stopped being curious.
“look, not that it’s any of your business, it was a man, and i don’t remember who,” Dean finally admits. he never gave up his weakness to her questions either.
she looked a little stunned, “a man?” then she looked a little worried, “what i said before was a joke, Dean, was it actually.. a guy?”
he huffed slightly, “yeah, so what?” he sounded harsh, not wanting to be judged by someone who’s dating a woman, a homosexual relationship.
“no, it’s just, John and all that,” she shrugged, “i mean i guess it’s just a hookup, right?”
Dean let his shoulders fall, “yeah, just a hookup, a really, really good one,” he almost groans, hating he can’t remember anything else, “i don’t even remember anything.”
“and it’s good.. because?” Dean looked behind him, making sure no one, specifically teenagers, before turning back and pulling down the collar of his leather jacket.
Jo gasped and then laughed breathlessly, “holy shit!! and you can’t remember anything?”
Dean sulked, letting his forehead hit the table and letting his arm fall back to his side, his collar snapping back up, “yeah and it sucks.”
“i bet!” she says breathlessly, “damn that’s worse than me,” she mutters as she sips her drink.
he nods his head, the skin on his forehead scrunching a little due to him still pressing against the cold table.
“anyways, away from your sex life and over to mine,” she started and Dean rolled his eyes, already knowing what’s to come of this conversation as it steers to Jo’s and Hailee’s bed life, “Hailee is a literal Goddess.”
“i know,” Dean says as he look up at Jo, “you’ve told me at least a billion times.”
“yeah, well, Hills deserves more recognition,” Jo pouted jokingly, drawing a chuckle from Dean as he sits up.
“yeah yeah, alright, go on, tell me all about how Hailee is the best partner, how beautiful she is, and smart she is, and the cute thing she does every night.”
Jo grinned, pride and love etched onto her face, and all Dean can do is smile, knowing Jo had found the one.
Jo did go on. she went on to talk about how great her partner is, how Hailee is truly the best. then they went to talk about the replay of old 80’s romance movies going on in the movie theater for the next month. then they talk about shooting grounds and how they have to go hunting with Benny and Hailee, make it a family trip and invite Asher and Sammy (whom which both Jo and Dean know wouldn’t come all the way down for but it’s a good way to tell Sammy they love him). they ate as they talked. they talked as Dean ordered an extra fry as Dean accidentally ate Benny’s.
and finally, they talked outside, both leaned up against their respective vehicles.
“yeah, that’s what i told ma, it’s just not the same without the scope,” Jo added her input about Dean’s whole speech about rifles with and without scopes.
Dean grinned, “exactly! Benny just doesn’t get it, man! like, what do you mean you can no-scope yards away? bitch, not even i could do that!”
“cause your aim is so good,” Jo rolled her eyes.
“oh shut up, it’s better than yours, miss thirty-six row,” Dean said as he sent her a pointed glare.
she sent a glare back, “it was thirty-five times, bitch.”
Dean rolled his own eyes, “yeah okay,” and then a loud ring.
both jumped and then Jo was quick to pull her phone out.
she smiled as she looked at the caller ID before turning her head up and meeting Dean’s eyes, “alright, this is my call to leave, the mrs’ is missing me,” she winked as she slid her finger on the screen, answering, “cya later Dean, and i was serious about eh hunting trip!” she yelled as she walked around the front of her truck and got into it.
he nodded his head, “for sure!” he watched as she pulled out and drove out of the parking lot, then he watched as she drove away.
Dean missed that. missed having someone call him. he missed Sammy calling him from the school, telling him how his tummy hurts and wants to go home. he missed John calling to make sure ‘demons didn’t get to him’. he missed Bobby calling to have a quick chat about cars.
he missed someone caring.
he sighed and entered his own car, letting his forehead fall to his steering wheel. he looked down at his phone and scrolled through the contacts, not many so it didn’t take him long to get to ‘Sammy’.
he stared at it for a few seconds, knowing he wouldn’t press on it. why would he? Sam was hours ahead of him in time wise, plus the kid had school. he’s gonna be a lawyer, he said during the big fight. Dean wishes that fight went different.
“I’m back!” Sammy yells as he bursts through the front door of Dean’s rental. Dad’s sitting on the couch, beer in hand while he watches TV.
Dean stands from the couch, grinning as he engulfs Sammy in a big hug, “hiya Sammy, how’s it going?” He asked in his rough voice.
“good, it’s good seeing you, man,” Sammy mutters as he wraps his arms around Dean, leaning his head down to let it rest on Dean’s shoulder.
a woman walks in, she’s pretty, she’s nice, she’s what Sammy deserves, “and who’s this pretty lady?”
“that’s my girlfriend,” and before he could say anything else, Dad joins, standing up and taking Sammy into the next hug.
“hey son, how’s college treatin ya?” Dad asks in his usual rough tone.
“as good as Bobby’s shop,” and that draws a laugh from Dad. the two step back and Dean greets his girlfriend, pulling her into a hug, Dad does the same.
“how much my son pay ya to come here?” dad asks and everyone laughs.
after that, dad makes his famous burgers, the smell engulfs the house.
“Bobby’s comin around in an hour, said he just had to run a few more tests before the hospital lets him go,” dad notes as he munches on his third burger.
Sammy hums, “can’t believe he beat cancer, i mean, come on, that’s awesome,” and Dean agrees. Bobby is awesome.
after that, Bobby joins. they all stay late into the night, Sammy and his girlfriend taking his bedroom, John going to Bobby’s and Dean taking the couch.
that’s how Dean wished it all went. but that’s not it. that’s not what happened.
Dean stood over his dad’s grave, he hadn’t moved for hours now. his eyes were puffy, his cheeks were tear stained.
“Bobby not here?” Sammy..
Dean didn’t move. Sammy had only then arrived for John’s funeral. Dean didn’t say anything, he didn’t trust his voice to stay steady enough.
“Dean..?” Sammy said as he took the spot next to Dean on the other side of the grave, “i’m sorry i’m late..”
“don’t…” Dean muttered, “please don’t,” Dean was right not to trust his voice as it cracked many times in those three words.
Dean finally pulled himself to look up, Sammy didn’t look any better. Dean needed to comfort him. he needed to, that was his job as Sammy’s protector. yet he couldn’t move. he couldn’t. he stood there, stuck in place.
it’s like the grass had grown around his feet, wrapping and twisting itself around his shoes, pulling him into the soil.
he stayed rooted and just stared.
“traffic,” Sammy muttered and that was a last straw.
“i said fucking don’t!” Dean yelled, his voice raspy, cracking and pitching in some places, “i told you, days before he finally died, and you didn’t come, so shut up, Sammy.”
Dean couldn’t find it in himself to be nice. he couldn’t find the empathy. he needed an exit. and it seemed Sammy was the only way.
“i mean, come on! he was on his fucking death bed for months before he finally kicked that damned bucket, so don’t give me this shit! this shit that you were in ‘traffic’,” Dean glared at Sammy and he hated himself. he hated himself so much. so fucking much.
because Sammy was states away from John’s deathbed. Dean was minutes away. just down the hall. yet he left. yet he wasn’t there. Sammy had an excuse, what was Dean’s? he had work? no he didn’t. he had urgent meetings? no he didn’t. he had no excuse.
the tears bottled up and the tipped over as he stared at Sammy.
“you should fucking got here first call, damnit! you should’ve been here! you were his favorite!” Dean yelled, stop yelling, stop yelling at Sammy you dumb fuck.
“you were just so fucking busy, huh? so busy with what? school? yeah right, you fuck faced idiot!” shut up, shut up, SHUT UP, DEAN SHUT UP.
Dean had went on for another five minutes before Sammy snapped.
then the big fight. Dean went home alone that night. he didn’t go to his room, instead he went to his now office where John’s bed was. he stared at it for hours. he looked over at the pills that stayed still just after John had placed them their.
Dean watched the blanket, wishing it would move and John would be there. John wouldn’t be there. Dean knew.