This is my first fan fiction, it is AU. Please be patient. I don't know how long it will be, but I hope you'll enjoy :)
The sunlight pierced through the open curtains, awakening a man, in this new day, little did he know, would experience something which would lead him down a path to something which he thought would never happen, especially not to him anyway.
He drifted his eyes open, his head was pounding from the amount of alcohol he had consumed last night into the early hours of the morning. Though, he did not regret it one bit, after the day he had, it was inevitable that he would end up in this state. He squinted at the daylight that overpowered the dark room which is what his drunken eyes last saw the previous day before he collapsed into bed. He rolled over to the empty side of his bed, and looked at his clock on the bedside table; it was nearly midday, as much as he could easily stay in his bed all day, ignoring the reality that now faced him, or in fact in his wishes, never to leave it, however he saw no point in staying in there any longer, he wouldn't sleep any more, he thought he could just rest for a few more minutes before he returns and hits the bottle again. He sighed, he was not ready for another god forsaken day in his eyes, he hated being here, breathing was something he didn't like, and his life would be so much easier if he wasn't at rock bottom, in fact he felt lower than rock bottom. He had no idea how he managed to climb out of bed and walk out of the house and put on a fake smile for the on lookers, but he did, he managed it, day in-day out, but today he knew he wouldn't be doing that any more, not after the day he had yesterday, he didn't have the strength.
...
"Dean", shouted his manager. Dean immediately rolled his eyes, sighed, took in a deep breath, slid back from his desk, quickly took a sip from his coffee, and put on his jacket. There was no way he was awake enough to experience what was about to happen. He walked down the corridor, he knew something bad was going to happen, their manager never just called them into the office for a chat, it was always something specific, and it wasn't ever something good. The few seconds he had left until he reached the office, he used to prepare himself. He wiped the small amount of sweat that had started to collect above his brow from nervousness; he readjusted his dark grey tie, and flattened his hair. He had reached the office; he knocked on the door, and waited for the call allowing him to enter the office. He heard the signal, and so he entered his managers spacious, bright and respected office, all completely opposite to what he felt.
"Yes, Mr. Nelson", Dean inquired.
"I've noticed lately, you're not putting in as much effort into your work lately, your work ethic is not reaching the company's standards. You know this company only employs people who work with a smile, and deliver. I'm thinking of whether you're even achieving anything any more, here at Ice Incorporated".
Dean blankly stared into the seriousness of his manager's face. He knew his manager wasn't taking this lightly; his anger was starting to rise. He knew this was about to get worse, he's seen what happens, in fact on his very first day at the office, nearly 3 years ago, this is what the man behind him had suffered, he had to return his key card, pack his things and leave the building, Dean knew what was coming, but, if it was what he was expecting, this would be the end, his job was the only thing keeping him afloat, the court had requirements that he must meet enabling him to have visits with his daughter , Dean could not lose his daughter, it was last and only thing he saw on earth which was worth living for, she was keeping him from throwing himself off the bridge he drove over every night to get home, though it wasn't his home any more, it didn't have the warmth, the happiness that homes have, it was now just some building that he went back to each night after the bar to sleep off his drunken state.
"Mr Winchester...Dean, are you listening to me?" questioned Mr. Nelson.
Dean was suddenly returned from his dazed self back into the room, he swallowed the small amount of saliva that built up in his dry throat and replied, "Err...yes sir, I'm sorry".
"Well I'm afraid, we're going to have to let you go, there are others who are able to fill your position, please go pack up your desk, return your key card to Tracey and exit the building", informed Mr. Nelson.
That was it; it was over, Dean's last hope of keeping in contact with his two-year-old daughter, Emma. Now it will only be a matter of time before the social services found out, and well now he'll probably give that bridge more thought than before.
In which felt like minutes to Dean, but actually it was only a few seconds, he managed to come to terms to what had just happened. It would be so easy to become mad and upset, though Dean did not see how that would help the situation, and so he quietly and politely exchanged a few words with Mr. Nelson, only saying how he understands and he'll go collect his things and leave.
He turned and headed back to his desk, and suddenly walking back, he saw it all, everything in his future, or what he now expected to happen. He hated the thought of it; losing Emma would be the hardest thing he would have to go through. He loosened his tie, relieving the previous respectable to outsiders, Dean Winchester. Dean did not look the same to when he left his office to when he returned, the other workers saw it, his shoulders had dropped, his arms loosely swinging by his side, his tie had been loosened, with his top button open, allowing him to make it easier to take a breath, he was suffocating in his manager's office, his feet dragging along the floor, and his eyes looking empty. They watched him, they knew what has happened, they didn't stare too long, they knew what he would do, they've all seen it happen before, Ice Incorporated never lacked firing people. They never knew if they were next, or the person next to them, or behind them, they just had to wish that the next time it wouldn't be them.
Dean reached his desk; he thought to himself, 'why are all these people staring at me? They've all seen this happen before, it happened to Jack last month'. Dean did not make eye contact with any of them, he just had one thing to do, and he wasn't going to take any longer doing it than he expected to take, he was going to get it done and leave, he wasn't going to waste any more time here, he hated his job here, it was boring, and quite frankly he did not interact with any of his co-workers, he didn't see the point, he only was here because this is what allowed him to still see his daughter, and well the money, yes, he needed the money, that was another thing the court required, a home, he needed to keep his house afloat too,he needed a sturdy home environment, though Dean had not quite reached the home visits yet, but it looked like now he will never reach that now.
He collected a cardboard box from the supplies room, and started to pack up his things, he instantly picked up his collection of photo's he had on his desk, they were the only things he wanted to take, but he couldn't only take them, he had to at least half fill his box. He reached for the 5 piece photo frame, all pictures of Emma. The first one, she was a newborn, being held in her mother's arms, only a few hours old, which still catapulted Dean back to that room, that moment, every time he saw that photo. The little white hat, the socks, and gloves she was wearing, so pure, so innocent. Dean loved that, it reminded him that no matter how heavy life got, he had done that, he had created life, it was one of the proudest moments of his life, and he loved her more than anything in the world. The second photo was Dean holding her, looking tired and rough, but still the happiest man in the world, his head in the clouds, his eyes sparkling. He continued to collect a few things, a few folders, some documents, and few pieces of office equipment. He thought that would do, he picked up his box, and the rest of coffee he had left, he finished the last few mouthfuls, and as he walked over to the elevator he placed the cup in the bin.
He walked into the elevator, and used his key card for the last time, and inserted it into the slot, and selected the ground floor. His thoughts were still strong at this point, and were still overpowering him. The doors opened and he walked over the front desk, to Tracey, and handed over his key card. No words was exchanged, he just slid it across the surface, and headed for the automatic doors, and he readjusted his bag over his shoulder and walked across the car park over to his car.
...
Dean was sitting at the bar, he hadn't changed from earlier, and he was already at the bar for a few hours, it was starting to have an effect on him. He started to have a little confidence and he spotted a group of girls across the bar, if there was one thing that could take his mind off what had happened today, they was it. Moments had passed, and suddenly he heard someone.
"They don't look that stupid you know, you aren't going to get anywhere looking like that".
Dean turned and spotted where the voice had come from, a man, he was sitting in a booth alone in the corner of the bar, and he looked nearly as bad as Dean did. He was wearing a suit, with a royal blue tie facing the wrong way, and a trench coat.
Even Dean knew he hadn't been at his best recently, he always had styled his hair in some way, but lately he has just left it being flat. Also, due to that day's events, his suit wasn't at normal standards either, his shirt was un-tucked, his tie was loosened, and he had his jacket rested over the bar. But nevertheless, he didn't even care; if he wanted to go over and talk to the girls he would, as soon as this stranger would leave him alone.
"I'm not in the mood man. I've had one of the worst days possible. Just leave me alone to have a few beers" Dean stated.
The stranger inquisitively looked at Dean, even though Dean asked to leave him alone. Dean turned back around and took another swig of his beer. The stranger noticed his beer was getting low, he got up and walked over to the bar, he sat down on the stool next to him. Dean turned to his right, looked at the stranger that had uninvited came and sat with him, but didn't say anything, he just turned back facing the wall, and finished the last mouthful of his beer.
"You look like you need another beer" the stranger pointed out. He noticed he could do with another. "Two more beers please", the bartender placed two more beers on the top and left them to engage in a conversation.
...
Dean staggered in through his door, kicked off his shoes, and stumbled up the stairs one at a time but finally he reached his bedroom, it had been a long day, he needed sleep. It had reached into the early hours of the morning; he must have been in that bar for at least 8 hours, he was drunk. He did not even bother to take off his shirt, though he had already taken off his tie and put into his jacket pocket earlier that night, and he just fell diagonally onto his bed; he did not even get under the covers. As soon as he hit the bed, he was out.
What did you think? Let me know if I could carry on with it.