Hi there, thanks for picking my story. This is the first fic I've posted in YEARS! I really hope you enjoy it :)
The Boy Next Door
It was a warm spring day, not unusual for this time of year. The bright midday sunlight beamed through the open window into Dean Winchesters bedroom as he lay across his bed, eyes shut engrossed in the music blaring from his headphones. The bright blue vinyl record player his dad bought him for his 19th birthday sat next on his night stand next to his bed where the large headphones were attached "this is how real music should be played" he remembered him saying, 'he wasn't wrong' he thought as he played air guitar along with ACDCs 'Back in Black.' His concentration was broken by the sound of the muffled sounds of an argument breaking out downstairs, Dean rolled his eyes, this could only mean that Dad and Sam were having another one of there 'Heart to hearts.' As the yelling got louder Dean removed his headphones, stopped his record and wandered out onto the landing and down the stairs. Sam and Jon were standing in the middle of the small kitchen yelling ta the top of their lungs at one another. Sam Winchester was 4 years younger than his brother but he was lot taller in comparison and regularly get mistaken as the oldest Winchester, his shoulder length brown hair shuddered as he shook his head in disagreement with his father. John Winchester was a stocky built man, his black hair always slicked back, his 5'oclock shadow unkempt and scruffy looking, he was leaning against the kitchen table holding a half empty whisky bottle. They always only seemed to fight when he had been drinking.
"Like you care about us!" Sam yelled "what did you spend it on, more fucking whisky?!"
"Hey! what the hells going on here?" Dean interrupted and the pair turned their attention to him, Dean was always their referee, they were just too alike and clashed heads all the time.
"Dad's been stealing money from my college fund!" Sam yelled again
Dean looked to his father slightly stunned; this was not the Winchester way "Dad?"
Jon sighed pulled out one of the rickety wooden chair from under the small table and sat down. "We – we need the money" he said taking another swig from the whisky bottle
"What about your job?" Dean asked tentatively stepping further into the kitchen
"He lost it!" Sam yelled again "probably caught drinking on the clock again –"
"I was laid off Sam!" John retaliated "We All Were!" a bright blue vein popping out on his neck, "I do everything I can for you two, ever since your mom-"
"Oh here we go again," Sam interrupted "You know what?! Your weren't the only one who lost her!"
"Enough you two" Dean roared over the pair of them. "Sam, go cool off" he pointed towards the stairs.
Sam kicked the chair in front of him sailing it across the kitchen, and stormed off up stairs, followed by a loud slam of his bedroom door. Dean walked up to the kitchen table and took the whiskey bottle away from his father and carried it over to the kitchen sink
"I thought you said you quit"
"I have Dean, it's just-'
"Save it" Dean said pouring the rest if the bottles down the drain, the smell over powering him, he placed the empty bottle on the draining bored and starred at his father.
"Do I need to call Uncle Bobby?"
"No. Were not in that much trouble, yet"
Dean disappeared out the kitchen leaving his father, he ran up to his room.
He sailed past Sam's room, he could hear him stomping about behind the closed door. As he entered his room and marched straight over to his closet, amongst the hanging clothes, skateboard and various other things lay a shoebox, he lifted the lid. The box was full of loose change, dollar bills, money he had been saving for years, he took out a handful of bills, counted them carefully and replaced the box, hidden away amongst what little things he had, and returned to the kitchen, his father hadn't moved, his head in his hands, he looked broken. Dean put the handful of money on the table and slid it under his nose.
"Don't take it from Sammy Dad, come to me next time"
His father looked up, tears filling his eyes
"Son, is this from –?"
"Yeah" Dean said gruffly
The old man smiled as a tear escaped his eye, he clapped a large hand on his check "you're a good boy Dean, your mom, she'd be so proud of you"
Mary Winchester was the heart and soul of the family and all her boys looked up to her. "It's Cancer" Dean remembers her saying as all 4 of them and gathered around that very table on a day just like today of what seemed like so many years ago, tears streaming down Sammy's face, Dad just staring out the kitchen window, Deans whole world crumbling around him "you boys got to be strong ok? You got to look after each other" she leaned across the table taking her only sons' hands and gripping them tight, even in this dark times she still smiled. After a long hard fought battle, it over came her and the Winchesters were never the same.
"There should be enough for the months' rent" Dean added as he strode over to the coffee pot and pouring his father a strong black coffee. As the dark brown liquid hit the bottom of the mug he was suddenly aware of the unfolding action out the kitchen window.
Castiel Novak starred up at his new house as the large orange moving truck in front of his father's car screeched to a halt. "It's yellow," he muttered. The wooden clad front was painted a hideous shade of sunshine yellow a complete contrast to the rest of the street, the white wooden window frames looked worn as the paint over the years flaked and pick away from the wood and the front porch was no better and a battered, broken once white, picket fence lined the small over grown front yard. It looked like nobody have lived there for a while, "A fixer upper" his mom had called it.
"I know, I know" his father said looking over the seat at his son "but once were finished it will look perfect" he smiled a wide toothy grin, Castiel raised an eyebrow
"we'll see"
"Oh don't be so negative Castiel," his mother said "go help your brother"
Castiel sighed as he stepped out the old beat up station wagon and ambled over to the truck. A much taller blond haired man threw up the roller shutter at the rear and began unloading it, looking over his shoulder at his little brother a small wicked grin grew across his face "Think fast" he called, throwing a box to Castiel who fumbled but caught it.
"Gabriel, be careful" their mother warned as she climbed out the car along with their father, he watched as they walked up to the single step onto the porch and ventured inside their new house.
"I thought you were meant to be grown up now you're at college" Castiel scolded once their parents were out of ear shot, Gabriel replied by repeating exactly what he said but mocking his voice in a much higher squeakier tone while adding a second box onto Castile's pile "apparently not." He climbed the rickety porch step which creaked warningly, stepped onto the porch, and over the threshold into the small hall way. Hideous floral carpet lined the floor with lime green walls to match, a smell of stale cigarette smoke and old lady lingered in the air which added top it's overall gross factor,
"Well… Isn't this, charming" Gabriel said as he followed his brother into the house, also with his arms full of boxes.
"It's a fixer upper" there mother said
"So, you keep saying" Gabriel smirked, he set his boxes down and opened the flaps of the top box, after a small amount of searching he retrieved a large wooden crucifix and handed it to his father who smiled and hung it on a protruding nail from the dry wall.
His mother beamed "now it feels like home." Turning to her sons "why don't you two go pick out bedro –" before his mother could finish her sentence, Gabriel pushed Castiel out the way and ran upstairs "I call first dibs,"
"The largest room is ours" his father called after him before heading back outside to the truck to unload more boxes, Castiel followed his brother up the creaking stairs, the landing had the same floral carpet and lime green walls as the hall way and he really hoped that they would be the first thing to go. The landing was small, 4 dark wooden doors lined the walls all with matching golden door knobs. Gabriel leaned triumphantly against a door frame on a door the furthest end of the tiny landing "This one's mine. Which leave that one as yours" Gabriel pointed at the door next to Castiel, grabbing the golden door handle he twisted the knob and pushed the door open. Of course, it would be smaller than Gabriel's, but at least it didn't have that horrible carpet in here. It was an average size room, enough for a bed, desk and dresser, there was a largish square window directly opposite the door which over looked an identical window on the neighbor's house, Castiel could see right inside that room, a poster hung on the back of the door, 'Black Sabbeth?'
"Your own room Castiel, what do you think?" his mother soft voice crooned from behind him and he smiled.
"Can I paint it?" looking behind him at her smiling face
"Whatever color you like son"