"Fuck you, Winchester."


Turns out, Jackson's car was in the shop so he had to get a ride with Dean. He seemed to love the Impala well enough. After giving some vague directions (turn right... Now. And now go forward.), they finally made it to a small apartment complex.

After parking in an empty spot, the two climbed out and Jackson gave him a grin from over the top of the car, "Alright, shall we head on inside?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded and followed the other up some stairs, twisting down a little hall between the apartments to get to a door. While there were flowers or a sign with someone's name outside some doors, Jackson had nothing. It was like no one ever lived there.

The Winchester went inside when the waiter opened the door and took in the small area. There was barely anything inside. Sure, there was a couch and a tv, a dining table across from them tucked near a corner, a nice kitchen that was decently sized, and a hall that lead to the rooms, but there were not pictures hanging. It was almost as if Jackson had just moved in but, from the way the man interacted with people at the diner, Dean knew he had been here for quite a while.

Why were there no pictures?

Maybe he was all alone so he never had a reason to put up pictures.

Maybe.

"It's homey," He said, knowing that it wasn't what he wanted to say.

Jackson seemed to notice that, if his wry smile was anything to go by, "I guess. Come on, I'll show you your room and then we can get your stuff from your car."

"Yeah, okay," Dean nodded and followed the other down the hall. His room, apparently, was the first door on the left and it looked like a hotel room. That is to say it didn't have any pictures, too, and the comforter and bedsheets were a plain white. He took a little walk around the room before turning back to Jackson, who was leaning against the doorframe, "Dude, thank you. This is more than I could ever ask for. Are you sure you're okay with it?"

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't have offered," The black-haired man grinned. "May was right when she said I was stubborn."

"You and May are close," Dean said, making his way over.

"Yeah, she's like the younger sister that's able to beat my ass that I never-ever wanted," He shrugged with a laugh in a what-can-you-do manner. "Come on, let's get your stuff outta your car."


Twenty minutes later and both men were setting up the Winchester's room, making snide comments here and there whenever either of them came across, or said, anything embarrassing. They seemed more comfortable around each other despite only having met a couple hours ago and both were finding that they enjoyed the other's' presence.

Dean hadn't' felt this comfortable with someone since Sammy left. He had to shake his head when the thought of his little brother entered his mind. He waved off Jackson's concerned look and bit his lip. Sam chose to leave because he wanted a new life. Now it was Dean's turn to make one for himself.

"You know, Dean," Jackson looked over at the Winchester as he folded one of the hunter's shirts, placing it on the bed. "I've only been in this area for 'bout six years," He sat on the bed, looking out the window that overlooked the parking lot outside of the apartment. "It was hard, you know? I traveled on my own for about a year before I got here. See, I was avoiding my family. I was just- I guess I was just tired of seeing them fight all the time," He looked over at Dean, his green eyes bright. "I always thought that maybe it wasn't the right choice, that I shouldn't have turned my back on them. Then, I came here and met this man who convinced me that I had done all I could, that I couldn't control my family and that I shouldn't let them control me."

"What I'm saying, Dean," Jackson leaned forward so his cheek was resting on the palm of his hand and his elbow was on his thigh. "Is that you shouldn't let your family run your life. If they can't learn to appreciate you, you shouldn't stick around and let them run you into the dirt."

Dean was silent for a moment, eyes wide, "What- How did you know what I was thinking?"

Jackson shrugged and picked up another one of the Winchester's shirts, folding it neatly, "Like I said, I came here a few years ago. I was in your shoes before." He got up and looked at the clothes, nodding once to himself as if his thoughts were satisfied in whatever he saw in them, "I think you got the rest. I'm goin' to go pick us up some dinner. What'cha say about tacos?"

The Winchester was at a loss of words for a moment. Usually, he wouldn't be like this but this man here had figured out nearly everything about him in one go- because he was the exact same. Maybe they had more in common than he thought. "Yeah, uh, tacos sound good."

"Great. I'll be back in ten. You finish up the room, get it over with. I guess I'll get us some beers, too," Jackson rubbed the back of his neck, mumbling to himself as he turned to leave the room.

"Hey, thanks, Jackson," Dean spoke up before the other was out the door.

The black-haired man turned, blinking once at the hunter, "It's no problem, Dean." He paused, tilting his head as if thinking about something. "Oh, and my name's Percy. Jackson's my last name. Now, what kind of tacos do ya like?"


"Never have I ever… Eaten a worm."

Dean looked over from his spot on the couch to look over at Percy, who was grinning at him cheekily, "Seriously?"

"What? I'm bored and there's nothin' on," He gestured vaguely to the TV with a taco, spilling a bit of lettuce on his lap. "Come on, anyone who has done whatever we name takes a swig of their drink," He held up his bottle of alcohol, his grin turning mischievous. "Don't be scared, Deano. Let's play."


The game was a bad idea.

Both ended up bat-shit drunk and spouting off random things and quotes from Hamilton. It was weird since Dean had never watched that and Percy didn't seem to be one to see it either.

It was now morning and the two men were on the floor in the living room, groaning about their massive hangovers. First night Dean stayed with Percy, he gets drunk. Nice. Now, that is how you welcome someone.

"I am regretting last night deeply," Percy said, hiding from the sunlight by burrowing himself under a blanket and a few throw pillows.

"You and me both man," The Winchester winced. "'Least we're not throwin' up."

Suddenly, Percy made a noise and got up, running to the bathroom in the hall and retching in the toilet.

"Nevermind, I spoke too soon."

"Fuck you, Winchester."

"Haha, no, d-don't make me laugh," Dean screwed his eyes shut, holding his head. "It's makin' me feel sick."

"Damn, May's goin' to kill me," Percy mumbled, leaning against the bathtub next to the toilet. "She told me that the next time I get drunk, I better have life insurance."

"She sounds like a tough woman," The Winchester chuckled, wincing once more as his headache worsened for a moment.

"Scary, too," Percy grinned. "You know, I'm just going to lay here and-" He yawned, settling on the tile floor in the bathroom, "Good night."

"No, no, Percy," Dean turned to look at him. From where he was, he had a clear view of him sprawled on the floor. "Don't you dare go to sleep. Come on, man, it's morning." He never was able to go to sleep with a hangover but apparently Percy could and the man was out like a light, "Son of a bitch."


"Why the hell didn't you come into work yesterday?!" Was May's way of greeting as she smacked Percy in the head with a menu as he and Dean walked inside the diner the next day.

"Sorry, sorry," Percy covered his head as May smacked him a few more times. "Dammit, woman, stop hitting me!"

"He was helpin' me settle in," Dean said, giving the waitress a disarming smile. He wasn't going to try to hit on her for two reasons. One: Percy seemed protective of her. Two: She was too damn scary.

"You," May rounded on him, staring him in the eyes. "You're good lookin'. You good at talkin' to people?"

"I, uh, yeah?" Dean was confused and a little scared and he eyed the menu gripped tightly in her hands warily.

"Hm," She nodded firmly to herself before walking off to the back door of the diner where the Winchester remembered their boss being.

"What was that?" Dean turned to Percy, who was looking at him oddly.

"I think," The black-haired man tilted his chin and grinned. "May's gettin' you a job."


Suggestions are always welcome. :)

-Jones