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The rain tinkled on the metal shutter of the closed store front. He sat in the dark, shivering steadily as he listened to the incessant droplets. It was cold. God, was it ever not cold? He shuffled in his frayed sleeping bag, attempting to attain a more comfortable position on the harsh concrete ground. With his head tucked tightly within the damp confines of his sleeping bag, he was unaware of the darkest clouds that crept ever closer; the rain was yet to intensify.

Dean:

The engine roared. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, the leather of his gloves squeaking against its coating. He could feel the wind rush through his hair, the longest strands dancing with the element. The radio suddenly blared 'Heat of the Moment', a common and unwelcome occurrence in situations like these. As if on cue, the edges of his dream began to fade away while consciousness grabbed him, and Dean Winchester reached with an unsteady hand towards his alarm clock to slam it off. He stretched, pushing his head further into the fluffy confines of his favourite pillow, before sludging out of bed with a groan to get washed and prepare for yet another day at work...

When he stepped outside of his apartment block, the crisp November air brushed at his face. Dean pulled the collar of his green military jacket closer to his neck to block out the chill and continued on his regular path to the garage. He stumbled as his foot landed in a small pothole in the pavement, "-Oh for God's sake", he muttered, noting how his shoe and the rim of his trouser leg were now wet from the water gathered in the fault. He passed the regular shops, which by this time were beginning to raise their shutters to welcome the public, absently noticing a homeless man laying in front of an abandoned store to his left. Ten minutes later he arrived at work and shook off his coat as he came through the door. "Mornin' Bobby," Dean called over his shoulder as he swapped his coat for the blue boiler suit in his locker.

A burly but kind-featured man appeared around the door of an office, "Winchester, you're late. Again." Bobby came out of the office and handed Dean one of the two cups of coffee in his hands.

Dean took the hot drink with a small 'thanks' and joked, "But am i really late if i come in time for my coffee?"

"Yes," came the blunt response.

"Okayyy...straight to work then," Dean figured as he stepped into his uniform.

"Yeah. Good idea. Fitzgerald has left his car in for a full service, so you can start with tha-"

''Is that the Pontiac Aztec? Man, that car's a piece of shit!'' Dean complained.

"Well it's a piece of shit that you'll be workin' your butt off to make a functioning piece of shit, so get to work!" With a clap to his shoulder, Dean turned around and walked towards his challenge of the day: somehow make his idea of a vehicle abomination be able to pass an inspection. He's gonna need something a lot stronger than coffee.

The hours spent on the car rolled by quickly. They always did in the garage. Once the hood was opened, Dean was in his element and the world continued without him. That is, until a particular customer arrived to pick up their Pontiac. "Garth, i'm tryin' to concentrate here! Think into yourself for God's sake!", he called from beneath the car.

"Aw i'm sorry, buddy! You are doing a great job by the way. Real good." Replied Garth, who was thoroughly enjoying a comic at the back of the day's paper. "How long's this gonna be? I got places to be, you know, people who want to see me," he said with a chuckle.

Dean sighed to compose himself and pushed himself out from underneath the car. "Done. Go see Bobby in the office, he'll work out the price."

"No problem, Deano!" He pulled Dean in for a tight hug, Dean noticeably stiffening, "Really appreciate you doing this!"

Dean awkwardly patted Garth's back as if to tell him to please release him, and breathed a slight sigh of relief when he was free. After changing out of his uniform and rubbing the smudges of oil off his face with a grubby cloth, Dean grabbed the rest of his things and left for the day. 'Man, I'm starving', Dean thought to himself. Fixing that car had really worked up his appetite. 'Pizza? Nah... Burger and fries? Nah...Chinese? Hell yeah'. He took out his phone and messaged Sam:

"Hey Sammy. Want to grab a bite?"

A reply came several minutes later:

"Sure. Your place or mine?"

"Mine. I'm thinking Chinese"

"Nice. I'll be round in 20."

With that, he zipped up his coat against the drizzling rain and headed to his apartment...

"Hey Dean", shouted Sam as he opened the door of Dean's apartment and wiped his wet feet on the mat.

"Hey," Dean called, his head appearing from behind the door of the fridge as he pulled out two chilled beers. "How've you been?"

"Yeah, great. Jess says hi too, she's meeting Claire tonight", Sam replied, taking one of the beers and cracking it open before taking a sip.

"Claire, huh? What's she like?" he smirked.

"Really nice. Great taste in books, likes classical music, vegan-"

"-you can stop right there", Dean interrupted, causing his brother to laugh. He walked towards the door behind him into his small living room and sat down on the sofa where there was a definite dip in the cushion.

"You know, if you just got out more you could actually meet someone. You can't sit in here all your life."

"I-"

"And before you say anything, a night in with beer and Busty Asian Beauties doesn't count," Sam concluded.

Dean sighed and settled deeper into the sofa, "Whatever, let's just order this already, i'll fade away to nothing if I don't have something in my stomach in the next half hour."

The two brothers ate and talked for several more hours and decided they should call it a night. After saying goodbye to Sam, Dean brushed his teeth and pulled off his clothes before flopping onto his bed, pulling the cool duvet around him.