"David, trust me. I know what I'm doing. Please. Let me do this one on my own." David starred into his brother's intense eyes, searching for confidence. He found it. Trusting Simon was never an issue. He trusted Simon with his life, he had for years now, and nothing was ever going to change that, there was nothing that could break that bond.
"I do trust you Simon. I just don't like the idea of you being there alone."
"You taught me everything I know about hunting. Don't you trust your training?" Simon was taunting him and he knew it. He sighed, frustrated, there was no way he was going to win this argument.
"Fine. Go ahead. Just keep your phone on. I want to hear what goes down, just in case you need help." Simon smiled.
"I can handle myself big brother."
"Keep your damn phone on."
"Yes, yes, yes."
Dean sat back in his computer chair and sighed. Trust was something that wasn't easy to come by. Once it was gone, it was like trying to climb Mount Everest in a wheel chair to get it back. He had destroyed that trust with his brother, his parents, and even his extended family. Since Sam came back, even if it only was for another couple of days, he seemed to act as a highlighter and mark up the pages of Dean's book with annoyingly happy yellow showing him all of the holes he still had in his life and in his relationships with the people he loved the most, who he had also hurt the most.
Before Sam and his father had quit arguing about whether or not it was appropriate to invite Dean to lunch, Dean came out of the office and told his father to go with Sam, that he didn't get to see Sam that often and that he needed to spend some alone time with his youngest. John asked if he was sure, Dean had assured him it was fine, even though it hurt.
On one hand Dean was upset because it had been so easy for his father to accept Dean's statement because it made it seem like the argument with Sam was all for show, to make it look like he didn't agree with Sam treating him like shit, and on the other hand Dean felt as if it was deserved. His father spent every single day with him, was constantly on watch and it would be nice for him to spend some time with Sam. John had to feel like he spent the majority of his time babysitting a 27 year old child, so it would be good for him to have an adult conversation with his son, something that didn't revolve round physical therapy, the shop, or eating habits. John had gone to lunch and not returned to the shop the rest of the day.
What had to be the entire highlight of the week, and the one that made him think about how hard it was for people to trust you again, was the dinner he was sort of forced to go to. Their grandma Winchester wanted to see Sam and Anna. Wanted to see just how the star of the family was doing, and Mary had actually come over and laid out clothes and forced him up and into them. The humiliation of holding onto your mother's shoulders while she helped you into your pants never abated no matter how often she did it. However, it did make dressing infinitely easier and for that he was grateful.
"Mom. Sam doesn't want me there."
"But your grandmother will be there."
"She doesn't want me there either mom. I'm fine really." He said as she steadied him and he zipped and buttoned his pants.
"Dean, you need to eat."
"I have a salad in the refrigerator from lunch I didn't finish, and I can fix a sandwich."
"Dean. That isn't a meal. You need to eat more."
"The sandwich." He tried.
"You are coming Dean."
"Mom." She gave him sad eyes. The same look she had given him most every day since his accident, hell she had probably been giving him the same look for years, and he just hadn't seen it before now.
"I want you there Dean. You are my son." But I am a disappointment and a screw up mom. You can't really want me there. He thought to himself and sat on the bed and tied his shoes.
His mother, like always, won the argument and he went and had supper with his family. The dinner started with Sam looking none too happy to see Dean there. Dean nodded and said hello to Sam. He wanted to repair or hell even start a relationship with his brother. He wished that he could have the same relationship that his fictional brothers had with each other. He wanted a bond that was tight but left them room to be individuals, he wanted to be able to sit and have a beer with his brother and shoot the shit. But looking into Sam's eyes he knew that wasn't even a possibility right now. Knew in his bones that no matter what he said his brother would throw it back in an insulting and condescending tone. So, instead, he keep the door on his end open, smiled and said hello, and hoped with all of his heart that he could fix things.
Grandma Winchester really didn't speak to Dean the entire night. He couldn't blame her. When he was at the height of his addiction he had broken into her house and stole all of the money she had in the house. The memory embarrassed him now, but then, well, he had needed that fix, his body was going through withdraw and he didn't know how else to get it. She had called the cops, they had picked him up, thrown him in jail, and his grandma had pressed charges. He had spent some time in jail for that one. He had said some awful things to her when they had arrested him. Things that he wished he could take back, wished he knew how to take back.
Sam and Anna dominated the conversation, which was fine with Dean, he didn't know what to say to anyone anymore. He couldn't force himself to look his grandmother in the eye, couldn't look at anyone, the memories were hitting him so hard.
"Excuse me." he said softly to his mother trying not to interrupt the conversation. He struggled out of his seat, his grandmother watching disapprovingly, and with one hand against the wall he walked to the bathroom. What was hard was when he was making his way back and he could hear the conversation, the conversation that had turned from Sam's current load of cases to Dean.
"What is taking him so long Johnny?"
"It is hard for him to walk."
"Your purse is in the kitchen right grandma?" Sam asked.
"Yes. I didn't bring any money or credit cards. He isn't going to do that to me again."
"Mom." John started. "He's really trying to clean up his life."
"He's tried that numerous times baby. What makes you so sure that he will do it this time?"
"I just know he will."
"Why? Because he has scars all over his face and can't walk right? Please baby, don't let him make a fool out of you again. I still can't believe that you are letting him work at the garage again, even after stealing from you and your partner."
"He needed a job."
"So do a lot of other thugs."
"My son is not a thug." Mary said incredulously.
"Mary, dear, Dean is a lost soul. You just need to let him go."
"I tell them that all of the time Grandma." Sam said with a sigh. "They simply just don't listen. They actually think that he is going to change. That he will become the son they wanted him to be." Dean didn't hear anymore, he left. It had been a bad idea to come.
Now, here he was, wishing again that he was David and that Sam was Simon, fighting supernatural baddies, while ignoring his cell phone and the house phone that rang in intervals. His mother would come eventually. She wouldn't be able to get in. The spare key in the plant was now sitting next to his computer, she could come all she wanted. She wasn't getting in. Right now he needed time to be alone. Needed time to figure out ways of getting his loved ones to trust him again.