I own nothing. I am just a loser who writes stuff.
Requested (or asked really because I'm lame) by: .com
ENJOY, LILY ALSO BECAUSE I HAVENT WRITTEN YOU ANYTHING IN FOREVER AND I MADE IT LITTLE FICLETS YAY
The Memories of Home
Dean got his first wheelchair three weeks before his fourth birthday.
It was blue with sliver specks. He fell in love the moment he saw it. He was finally able to move himself about without the help of others. He could scoot around the house on his own, could get everything for himself with on problems.
Deans first wheelchair was his first taste of freedom.
Deans first friend came a year later, on the first day of kinder.
He was smaller than the other kids, and had an over sized trench coat wrapped around him that did nothing to help. He stood frozen by the door, before he slowly wandered over to Dean a few seconds after entering the class.
He gently placed a small stuffed animal on Deans lap, and stared intently at Dean until he acknowledged it.
The toy was small, Dean could hold it in one hand, and dirty. Dean was confused, what did he want with a dirty little bumble bee toy?
"I have a honey sammich."
Dean shrugged. "Nice."
Deans first sleep over was on his seventh birthday with his little brother Sam and his best, and only, friend Castiel. And Mr Bee. And the trench coat.
Dean hated those things.
Well, Mr Bee was okay, he could handle a Bee that spent most of its time in Cas' pocket - that was fine.
He hated the trench coat though. It was so stupid! Cas' big brother Mikey told Dean once that it belonged to their Dad, and that - at first - Cas wouldn't sleep without it, and then he wouldn't go in the car without it, and soon enough the thing never left his back.
Mikey said it was Castiels 'security.' That it made him feel safe.
Dean would never understand that a dirty over coat that constantly gets dragged though the dirt could make anyone feel safe.
Deans first day of middle school was when life started to get tough for him.
School had always been easy to maneuver around. He knew his school like the back of his hand!
Well, he knew his old school like the back of his hand. This was big, and new. And big.
It didn't take long for people to notice the new kid in the wheelchair. Took even less time for the stares to start.
The first few pushes he took into that place where the worst of his life. He wanted to cry.
And then all of a sudden he was in motion, gliding down the corridor and through the throng of people jumping out of the way.
The cackling coming from Gabriel as he held himself off the ground behind him made it even better.
Dean and Cas where known as the coolest losers in school.
Nobody actually wanted to be friends with the asshole in the wheelchair, and the scrawny geek that carried a dirty bee toy in a filthy trench coat, but they knew Gabriel. So they weren't the biggest losers.
Dean realized he had a crush on Cas in period four, English, freshman year of highschool.
"Hey Dean," Cas had whispered in his ear, "how do you know if someone is sexually assaulting you, if you can't feel it? Or like, like, how do you know if someone is even real if you can't feel them when they touch you?!" Cas ended his questionnaire with am explosion sound effect, gesturing as if his head had exploded, mouthing 'MINDBLOWN' at Dean.
"Are you high right now?" Dean whisper yelled.
"Ha," Cas laughed once, "ya."
Dean first real heartbreak was when he was thirteen. And Sam was too tall for him to push around any more.
They were at the movies, on their way to see the new Lord of the Rings movie that Cas had been yapping on about.
Sam had tried to sit on his lap, like he usually did when they were bored, and his legs where far to long for Dean to work with.
"No," Sam whined, "no. I'm not too big! No! This sucks. I'm gunna be a damn giraffe by the time I'm ten!"
Dean never thought Sammy would get too tall to be his little brother. It hurt to know he could not push Sam around like that anymore. It broke his big brother heart.
The first time Dean told Cas he loved him was also the first time he had seen Cas drunk.
They were leaving a party, Cas stoned out of his mind and the twelve shots of god-knows-what that Cas had inhaled did not appear to be helping.
"You looks boooooo -teeeee-fuel. Haha! Scary tea fuel. Ha."
Cas had been spewing horrid word vomit since they'd walked out Zeke's front door.
"I don't even remember how to Castiel."
"Aaah," Dean laughed, "It'll come to you."
"What if it comes for me. What if like, it kills me. What if I die tonight?! What would you say? If I was gunna die right now? What would you say to me, Dean?"
Cas seemed genuinely concerned for his own safety.
"I'd tell you how much I love you."
Cas stopped dead, staring down at Dean with an intensity that only Cas could conjure up whilst drunk. And high.
"You mean that?" Cas whispered. "That's what you'd say? And you'd mean it? You love me?"
"Yep. I love you."
"Awesome."
Cas still jokes that it's Deans fault he got hit by a car that night.
Weeviews are always loved. :)
