"Brother, I can't-", Benny tries to clear the lump from his throat. "I can't do this anymore." It seemed that everything that could go wrong was going wrong.
"Brother, I can't-", Benny tries to clear the lump from his throat. "I can't do this anymore." It seemed that everything that could go wrong was going wrong. His parents were fighting; his grades dropped, then, just to top it off, his depression was getting the better of him. Hell, one of the reasons he was staying the night at Dean's was to get away from the yelling and curses and stench of stale needed to vent or he was going to do something stupid.
Dean had been retrieving the Xbox from the closet when Benny spoke. Now the dirty blond was on the bed beside him with such a concerned expression it's hard believe this was the same guy who had picked enough fights to learn about the detention teacher's large Justin Timberlake shrine at home.
Damn those eyes. Those perfect leafy rings hollowed out by black. They always seemed to get to Benny, reminding him of the tree he'd climb when he was young. Well, before the move.
"Are you okay, man?"
That think lump was still there but he fought it so his voice wouldn't crack. "A lot of things have been happenin' the past couple of weeks an'-I don't know if I-I can deal with it anymore. I feel like I don't… Fit in anywhere."
"Do you wanna talk about those problems?" Dean says in a soft and stoic tone. Dean's not one for emotionally charged situations yet he would listen, Benny knows, but this isn't what he wanted to discuss.
Tears are welling up and stinging his eyes when finally he answers with a small, half-hearted laugh. "Nah, botha'. I just want to let you know if I don't show up at school Monday-don't come lookin' for me."Benny's sure he knows what's going to happen next. Dean's going to ask him why and Benny's going to give him some pour story of moving off and the night would go on as planned. But what he didn't expect were the arms wrapping his neck. Then Benny's got his arms laced around Dean, face buried in a leather covered shoulder. Warm and comforting.
"Please, Benny, don't do what I think you're about do. You're better than that", Dean pleads. Of course Dean would know better.
That's when the levee breaks. Stinging relief dribble from Benny's clenched shut eyes. He's trying his hardest to choke back most of his sobs but few still come out, muffled, but Dean can still hear them. All the while Dean holds him close, fists balled in Benny's shirt and murmuring little encouragements.
Something clicks in Benny's head. 'I shouldn't be doing this. Not in front of Dean. He's done too much for me as is.'
When Benny releases and lifts up Dean's eyes are watery but the younger man still asks, "Are you sure you don't wanna talk?" Typical.
"Yeah", he snorts, "I'm fine."
With a questionable look, Dean replies, "Okay. Fine. You still wanna play Call of Duty?"
"Yes, Dean, I still want to play your stupid geek game."
Grumbling something about an "advanced simulator", Dean walks back towards his closet. Benny watches as he leaves. He can't do it now not when Dean's been so good to him.
THUMP.
"SONOVABITCH!"
"Be there in a second, brotha."
Yeah, he needs Dean and Dean needs him.