Hi guys, so... first things first: Thanks for giving it a chance despite the terrible summary (I will think of something better before the ending of the story. I hope) This story is a complete mystery to me. I don't know how far I'm taking it, and I have hundreds of ways to go in my head, but I haven't picked one so far. It could develop to a full romance or it could just be a comfort fic. I really don't know. And I would really appreciate if you guys help me to decide. Just tell me what you think I should do, and I promise you I will try my best to not let you down.
PS: English is not my native language, so I'm sorry for the (likely) mistakes.
Dean is miserable. He wants to get drunk so badly, that he is considering changing up his clothes and drive to the first bar outside this town. Drinking in this city is not an option since he is,above everything, the priest of the local church.
He sighs and start to unlock the door of his quarters. He doesn't really want to drink, never really liked the taste of alcohol anyway. It just helps to forget everything.
He doesn't even had to look at the calendar this morning to know it was going to be a hard day. It's may 2th. Sammy's 26th birthday. Or at least it would have, if Sam had not died three years ago in a car crash, together with his girlfriend, Jessica.
The whole thing happened on the way back of the restaurant where he finally had the guts to ask her to marry him. He had told Dean months before about his decision, and the older was more than happy and supportive to his little brother, but as was Sam, and that boy was more stubborn and perfectionist than anyone, he wanted to wait the "perfect occasion". Which presented itself on the night Jessica got her first job as a paralegal.
Apparently, some truck driver with sleep deprivation had fallen asleep on the wheels and didn't see the car. Both died on the spot. The golden diamond ring was still on her finger when they pull their bodies out of the crushed car.
Hearing that his baby brother was dead was the worse thing that ever happened to him. And he has not yet recovered it. He was still a child when his parents died in a robbery that went wrong, and from that point on all his life has revolved around protecting his baby brother. He felt like a failure.
Back then Dean, even being already in seminar, had seriously thought about killing himself. Sam was his brother and he loved the boy more than anything in the world, he would've switch places with him in a second.
But he couldn't. So he went and became a priest like he knew Sam would want him to do.
Being a priest was Dean's calling and Sam knew it. Grow up in a orphanage was not easy and he never felt loved and cared by anything besides Sam, until God found him when he was most lost.
Being a teenager wasn't easy, but being a parentless teen was harder, and he probably be dead by now if wasn't for pastor Jim, the old man who lived on the church a block away from the orphanage. The father had saved Dean's life when the boy got himself into a fight with his drug dealer (again, another bad, pointless way of forgetting things), calling the police and taking care of the hurt teen.
He never really thought about religion and being a priest sounded like a joke on the boy's mind, until he met the father. The man was the most sweet, caring and authentic good person the teen had ever meet. He treated Dean kindly and helped him out of drugs and the drinking by teaching him about the love, and the good things God had for him. He felt so safe and happy in the church that with time he started to realise that it was where he wanted to spend all his life. In the arms of the Father he had in Heaven and doing His work.
That is, before the same God let his brother die.
Sam's death changed everything and even though everyone (and even a small part of himself) keeps telling him that the same God who loves him is now keeping his baby brother fine and protected on His fields in Heaven, it's a hard thing to believe on these days, when he misses his brother so much it hurts.
But, one more night, instead of going out for drinks, he decided to do what he was taught to when in torment. He kneels on the floor of the simple bedroom and prays. For help. Help to easy the pain. Help to take care of his brother wherever he is. Help to get through this.
He never gets an actual answer (nor he expects one) but doesn't matter. It's more like a habit now. And like all the things in his life, it doesn't make him feel anything.
Standing up after finishing, he thinks about doing his regular nocturnal habits but decides that he is too tired to do anything except go to sleep.
When he was very young, before all the horrible things, his mother would tuck him into bed saying that angels were watching over him. Somehow this memory still makes him feel better and ready to a safe and good night. He can still see her in his mind and feels starting to drift off when he notice.
Steps. Just outside the room.
Alarmed, he opens his eyes to scan the bedroom. Although is too dark to be 100%, he's pretty sure the room is clean, point that is reinforced by the increase of noise in the corridor. He climbs out of bed and start to make his way to the other room, trying to be as quiet as possible.
He's not sure what to do in this situation. It could be a burglar, aiming for a easy robbery (and a rather pointless one, because he has no valuable possession of any kind) or it could be just one of the kids of the local rehab center that he helps. It happened at least twice before. They run away, they relapse and they regret, coming to him for guidance.
Deciding to be better safe than sorry, Dean goes after the phone to call the police.
There's only one telephone in the house, and it is placed on a little table next to the couch on the living room. And he is just a few steps of it when he hears a gruff voice behind him:
-Hello, Dean.