I'm not entirely sure where I'm headed with this story. Please stay with me and let me know what you think. I'd appreciate any constructive criticism that you can offer. Thanks! I hope you enjoy!


There was no ego boost in the self destructive activity Dean participated in almost every Friday night. There was also no absolution or true acceptance, but ever since Chuck had published those stupid books of his Dean had not been able to keep himself from the fan sites.

Most of the posts he flipped past were one shots between him and Sam; those were disturbing. Other posts were about what people thought they would do in his shoes; those were bogus. A lot of what he didn't flip past, however, was people's comments on his actions, on Sam's choices, on who they were. Those were what he craved, for no other reason than to remember why and who he was.

Sam was sleeping already, exhausted from hunting the monster of the week. Dean set his empty beer bottle on the end table and took a moment to look at his little brother. A small smile crossed his face as he looked at Sam's feet hanging off the edge of the bed. Who knew such a scrawny kid would grow up to be so tall. Dean turned back to the computer and flipped to the next page of comments. Most of what he was reading tonight was old, or at least about something old. Chuck hadn't put out any new books since he had disappeared and the fans had either moved on to something less deep dark and depressing or just reposted some two year old shit that they still thought was funny.

Dean was almost ready to hit the sack when a new post popped up on the screen. A post he would soon wish he had never read.

"OMG Destiel is soooo bomb. I wish those two hotties would just get it ON!"