WARNINGS: Mentions to past attempt of suicide, apparent major character death, general violence, drug abuse, acohol as a coping mechanism.
A/N: Updates will come every two weeks on Friday. Fun fact: Tiger Creek is an actual place in Tyler, Texas. Here you have their official site, go check out the tigers: .com
«»
Dean always had a fascination with tigers. He remembers when he was about three years old and his mother led him by the hand through the zoo, pointing at the different animals and prompting Dean into saying their names. Smiling brilliantly when he got them right and correcting him softly when he got confused.
He remembers how she had led them to the tiger area, the dirty floor that covered it from one side to the other, circled by a high metal fence. He remembers seeing their calmness as the tigers lounged in the floor not giving a shit about everyone around them. He remembers seeing one of those big cats get up and easily jump to one of those playgrounds that the zookeepers set up with tires and large wooden frames. It was imprinted in his mind the way it had done it, like he couldn't be bothered and then he had lay down, head held high as he surveyed everything around him. His eyes landed on Dean and by that point he was so awed with the animals that he was pretty sure he had gasped.
His mother had laughed at him then, soft and happy, covering him in kisses. They had stayed looking at the tigers for the best part of the next half hour before his mother made him get moving with promises of pie.
Dean guesses that that was the prelude to this. If there was any significant point in his lifetime that directed him precisely to this job and this city, that had been it.
Right now, he's watching one of the big cats prowling around in his habitat, in the Tiger Creek sanctuary, just outside Tyler, Texas. Sam was one of the first to be admitted and all about him exudes self-earned confidence, like the place is his to take and if someone says something about it he'll be more than okay to rip their arms off with as much as simple blink.
Also Dean had a fucking hoot in calling his brother and making hilarious jokes about lion mane and shit, practically earing Sam bitchfacing at him through the phone.
Sam circles the grounds eyeing the females and letting a low rumble tumble out of his massive throat when one of the younger ones tries to approach him.
Dean throws an enormous piece of steak through the fence, letting it fall near Sam. The older lion eyes it with interest and hurries to get his muzzle around it.
Dean can see the other tigers starting to head for it, when he tosses various pieces of steak along and over the fence, so there's enough for everyone, allowing their assortments of territory and minimizing the damage that they'll have to handle afterwards.
When some of the cats got really into each other's business it had been necessary to sedate them and tend to it, which was all around unpleasant because everyone around Tiger Creek knew that Dean was the best shot of all of them, so he got delegated weapon duty, and for him there was nothing worse than the sickening feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when he aimed at the animals and pressed the trigger.
Jo, in her khaki shorts and shirt approaches him slowly, a lazy smile playing on her face.
"Heya Jo." He greets politely.
"What's up knucklehead?" Jo greets playfully.
"Watch it Harvelle. Just because you're my cousin now, doesn't mean I won't kick your sorry ass." He throws at her with a light smile.
Jo snorts "I'd like to see you try, Winchester." She punches him lightly in the arm and Dean reciprocates in kind.
Jo punches him again, a little bit harder and Dean grunts "What do you want?"
"As much as I'd love to let you stare creepily at the tigers, I have to interrupt. Bobby asked if you want to come around and have some dinner. He said he fished something out of the salvage yard and if you're a good boy, he'll let you get your hands on it. Also you're on tour guide duty tomorrow for a bunch of snotty kids. Two teachers coming along as well."
Dean snorts "Yeah, I'll come around for dinner. What's dinner by the way?"
"Dunno. Mom said you'd like it though. And before you ask, yes, there's pie."
Dean beams at her "Joanna Beth I could just kiss you."
Jo rolls her eyes at him and smacks him in the arm again "Don't call me that."
And just for that, Dean leans over and places a sloppy kiss on her cheek, slobbering her face a bit. Jo makes a disgusted noise and quickly wipes her cheek.
"Dude, gross. How did I ever had a crush on you?!"
Dean winks saucily "No one can resist the Dean Winchester charm." One of the tigers roars behind him and Dean smiles again "See, she agrees with me."
"Douchebag!" Jo offers back "Are you driving me home or what? My pick-up broke down this morning and Bobby had to drive me."
"Sure." Dean shrugs, starting to walk towards the main building. Jo follows.
"And if you're taking me there you can stay all afternoon, or what's left of it. We can watch Dr. Sexy M.D. or some other shitty show you like."
"Dr. Sexy is a great show." Dean shoots back automatically "And I can't Jo. I have a thing." He says uneasily.
Jo turns serious "A shrink thing or a parole thing?"
Dean sighs and he really wishes he didn't have to answer that "A shrink thing."
Jo nods "I guess being someone's bitch in jail can mess you up."
Dean scoffs and throws Jo a dirty look "I wasn't anyone's bitch. I could shank you for that Joanna Beth. I can make a weapon out of your own hair." He threatens.
If Jo was anybody else making a joke about his time in jail, Dean would've punched her in the face by now, but this is Jo and she doesn't mean real harm.
"Are you shitting me Winchester? I could take you any time-" Dean swifts Jo off her feet and throws her over his shoulder as she shrieks and punches him in the back "What the ever-living fuck, Dean! Put me down before I hurt you."
Dean ignores her and continues walking, entering the main building with its organized space, the potted plant in a corner, a few waiting chairs, flyers and souvenirs everywhere and one of those round desks in the center.
He dumps Jo on the desk and smiles broadly at the look the kid behind it gives him.
"Here's a little something for ya." He says to the kid, Kevin he thinks, and walks away with Jo spluttering and jumping from the desk. She follows him and punches him in the shoulder as hard as she can and ouch- that's gonna hurt tomorrow.
"You little shit." She growls, rushing past him through a door which says AUTHORIZED PERSONAL ONLY and entering the locker room, quickly changing clothes.
Dean laughs at her and slips out of the hideous shorts, because he doesn't do shorts but apparently it's part of the workplace policy and he can't just wear jeans all the time.
He makes quick work of getting dressed and waits for Jo to finish, so he can drive her home.
"Ready to go?" he asks when she finally comes out.
"Yeah, shithead. Drive me home."
They both cross the parking lot, getting into Dean's baby, whose Dean had been neglecting a little bit lately with all the work he'd been getting, alternating between the sanctuary and Singer's Salvage yard. He coos at her a little bit, stroking the steering wheel until Jo makes a disgusted face and asks if he needs five minutes with his car and some paper tissues.
Dean throws her dirty look and kicks the car into gear, easing it into the highway and driving towards the city.
He cranks up Metallica when the tape starts and sings along a little bit. Jo complains about something her mother had said, while snooping around Dean's car.
Dean lets her because he forgets, and it isn't until the glove compartment pops up and Jo falls quiet that Dean remembers it.
She reaches over and takes the little bottle of pills, throwing a worried look at Dean. He sees her twist the bottle in her hands and read the label.
Dean sucks a sharp intake of breath because he knows the lecture that follows this.
"I thought you were getting better." Jo says calmly, looking disappointed.
"I am. Those are a doctor's prescription, Jo."
Jo shakes the bottle in his face "These are anti-depressives, Dean." She throws back accusingly.
Dean grips the steering wheel hard, making his knuckles turn white due to the lack of blood flow. Jo has absolutely no place in judging Dean, and he has to grit his teeth and resist the urge not to tell her to fuck off, because he knows deep down, the part of him that his rational and does the therapy exercises, that she only complains because she cares.
"So? It's not like I'm and addict or anything. I just need those to keep me up."
And just why in the fuck should he be justifying himself?! It's his godamn life and since everything he touches seems to die, he is entitled to some fucking prescription drugs to let him pull through it.
"Does Sam know about these?" and isn't that a cheap shot. Completely below the waist, Joanna Harvelle.
Dean grips the steering wheel a little tighter "Jo, drop it."
"I just-"
"I'm serious Jo." He interrupts "I've been going to fucking therapy and I've let the fucking shrink poke around my brain. I've been good. No bar fights or anything. So just let this fucking go or I'll stop the car and let you drag your ass the rest of the way home." He threatens.
Jo sighs heavily, and tucks the pills back in place.
"I just don't want this to end like last time."
Dean swallows hard and lets the guilt swallow him, as he looks at Jo's troubled face. And shit, he made Jo upset.
"It's not like last time." He whispers, and it's really not. He's serious when he tells her he's doing better.
"I can't do that again, Dean. I can't just sit around in a hospital and wait to see of the doctors can pump all of the poison that you swallow down with whiskey."
Dean pressed his lips together and slackens a bit his hold on the steering wheel. He reaches over, a palm against the back of Jo's neck, thumb stroking softly. It's more of a brotherly gesture than anything else.
"I'm better Jo. Seriously. That won't happen again. Promise."
Jo nods, but keeps her eyes looking at the road ahead of them. She sighs heavily and shakes her head.
Yeah, at least he's actually trying this time.
«»
Missouri looks up at him from her notepad and glares, pointedly looking at the knee Dean's been bouncing for the past ten minutes.
"Sorry." He mutters, looking back down.
The woman is scary as shit.
"What's wrong, honey?"
Dean smiles a little bit at the moniker. For all the shit that Missouri gives him, she cares for him and he's pretty sure that he's one of her favorites.
"I had a fight with Jo." He says, voice barely above a whisper.
Missouri lifts an eyebrow and waits for him to elaborate.
"About the medication. She thinks I'll jump off the deep end again."
Missouri stares at him some more, not saying a word and Dean's knee starts to bounce again.
"I'm not going to fall over the deep end. I'm not." He assures her, or maybe he's trying to assure himself. Either way he won't do it again.
"How many of those did you take today?" Dean flinches, and shit he can swear the woman has some sort of psychic powers or something.
He wiggles in his sit uncomfortably. "Two."
Missouri shakes her head almost imperceptibly and asks the million dollar question "Why?"
Dean has to keep himself from snorting because that's about standard issue for psychologists and in some way every time she asks him why or counters one question with another he has to fight the need to snort at her.
"Because." He answers feeling five years old all over again.
"Dean Winchester do not give me that attitude boy. I know you since you were in diapers. Don't make me whack you with a spoon." She threatens.
Dean shrinks further into the soft couch and not for the first time thanks whatever higher force that Missouri prefers hosting his appointments in her living room where everything is familiar and there's always a cup of tea in the coffee table in front of him.
"I thought I saw him." He whispers "Earlier, I thought I saw him." He swallows and looks down because he's crazy. There are absolutely zero chances he could've seen him.
"Oh, honey." Missouri sighs sympathetically "When you loose someone it's common to see them everywhere. Your heart is not ready to face the fact that they're no longer with us."
Dean nods along with her words. Although he doesn't agree with them, because he has a sharp vision and it's been years since it happened. Sure he was driving and it had been fast. Just a mess of dark hair and the sweep of a tan trench coat entering a building.
"Dean." Missouri sighs, tiptoeing the fine line between patience and impatiently throwing a spoon at Dean's head "You have to face your reality. Maybe it'll help if you say it out loud." Missouri prompts him.
He turns his head to the side, looking out of the window. He hates this part so fucking much. So fucking much! But Missouri makes him do it every appointment and that means that twice or thrice a week Dean as to accept his reality.
He huffs a breath heavily and watches the scenery. The kid riding his bike down the street, the trees in Missouri's front yard and the green grass covering it.
"Do you want me to mow your lawn?" he asks suddenly "Because I could do that. Easy-peasy. Wouldn't charge anything. And you can't let the grass get too tall because it'll-"
"Dean!" Missouri looks annoyed and sad "You have to say it. It's been years, baby. You can't keep hanging on to that. To him." Dean clenches his fists and for a moment he's really tempted to storm out of Missouri's house, but he doesn't. He makes himself remain in his place and breathe slowly through his nose.
Because even though Missouri makes him do shit like this, he knows that's the best for him. That it helps. In the begging, when he had gotten out of jail, he couldn't even force himself to leave the house. Not when everything outside reminded him of all the shit that God or fate or whatever the fuck had taken away from him. Missouri helped him then. Guided him, patiently waited for him, yelled and smacked him around when he needed to. She's the reason why Dean has an amazing job studying big cats and she's the reason why he can get up in the morning and she's the reason why his life is back on the tracks, sort of.
Missouri pulled him up even when he pumped his stomach full of pills and waited for them to take him away.
Missouri knows what's best.
So he takes a deep breath and unclenches his fists.
"My name is Dean Winchester. I'm in Tyler, Texas and it's" he glances at the grandfather's clock on the opposite wall "seven thirty in the afternoon. I got out of jail about a year and a half ago. My mother died when I was four." He swallows hard "My father passed away while I was in jail. Cas-" his voice cracks; his hands start to shake, and he wills them to stop. Swallows down hard, past the lump in his throat "Castiel was murdered at the same time I got arrested." He breathes through his noise and carefully erases the signs that he's lying before he says the next thing "It wasn't my fault." He breathes slowly "I was bad, but I'm better now. I've got a job and Sammy and my baby and my family here. I'll be okay."
Missouri nods approvingly and gives him a pained smile "I know you don't like this, honey. But you have to understand that it is how it is. I hate to be the one that has to tell you this, but Castiel isn't coming back and I know how much you cared about that boy, but sometimes bad things happen to good people. That's just how it is."
Dean stays quiet and nods, hands already hitching to reach for the bottle on the glove compartment and swallow two more pills, but he knows he won't. He has Sammy to think about and Jo and Bobby and Ellen. And he'll have dinner with his little borrowed family and have fun.
And he'll forget about how he got his best friend killed.