Does anyone have Tumblr? I'm new to it but I love it. I need some more peeps to follow so... anyone interested? The link is on my profile page and its my homepage link too.
Badass Beta/Awesome Editor- Samanatha V
For the First Time
Thanksgiving, a day to be thankful. Yeah, what the hell was there to be thankful for these days?
I got a good one! Dean smirked, nothing, jack shit, absolutely fuck all!
At least he could take comfort in the fact that he still had enough of himself left that he could make jokes, no matter how dark the humour. Idly flicking through the channels on the TV and sighing at the lack of good cable stations he could vaguely hear Steve muttering and clanging in the kitchen. It was really nice of Steve to put in the effort to make Thanksgiving dinner and he had tried to tell him not to bother, he really had, but his protests had been brushed away with a smile and a 'just wait 'til ya taste it kid'. Yeah right.
He hoped that Steve cooked better than John and his lips unconsciously quirked as he thought back to last year's dinner. It had been too funny when the potatoes that John had been 'cooking' wound up burnt solid to the bottom of the pan. The smoke detector had gone off and Mary had been soooo mad that John had wandered off to watch football and didn't do the one job she gave him. She'd forgiven him though and really, the instant stuff wasn't so bad. Then later he and Sam had a rather lopsided game of touch football and he'd let Sam win. God he missed them, but at the same time he didn't want to be anywhere near them. He sighed tiredly and thought that maybe he'd bring Angus an extra special treat later.
Blankly watching the moving pictures on the screen his mind was more intently focussed on analysing and planning his upcoming hunt. He wasn't sure if his plan was stupid, he guessed he wouldn't know until he tried it and then, if it worked, it wasn't, but if things did go south, if the worst happened, it would be no loss. Slipping his eyes closed to doze, he welcomed the warm oblivion of sleep.
Startling awake from a fuzzy dream of being late for school, he frowned when he abruptly realized it was the door bell and he frowned, who the hell could that be? He started to prick his ears in the direction of the front door in case he needed to make himself scarce if it was someone from Steve's work or family or whatever he wasn't supposed to be included in.
"Hey Uncle Steve, happy Thanksgiving." Okay, that sounded too much like Sam to be true.
"Same to you Sammy."
"It's Sam." Oh hell. Dean swallowed what felt like his tonsils and could literally feel the little color he had left running from his face.
"Oh, touchy today. Hey guys..."
"Hey Steve, brought the pie, Dean's favourite." Mary... check...
"Babe, you made three pies." John... check...
"Well they're all his favourite alright?"
Oh shit, shit shit shit!
Switching the TV off, he swung his legs from the coffee table, stood from the sofa and straightened out his three day old clothes. He cleared his throat and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, hoping the black soot would smudge off also. Trouble was the 'soot' he was referring to was actually deep black bags big enough to pack all his belongings in under his eyes. No amount of rubbing would clear them, only irritate and redden his lids which yeah, that'll make him look healthier, sure. Who was he kidding? He looked as crappy, sick and exhausted as ever, and he felt worse. He could only hope John, Mary and Sam wouldn't blame Steve for his deterioration this past week.
It was Sam who he saw first coming in the living room, behind him was Mary, and last it was John. Naturally Steve was hiding out in the kitchen still, which was good for him, he wouldn't get the deathly glare Dean was aiming at the wall right now, if looks could kill...
"Hey Dean," Sam was first to speak then too.
Dean gave a sharp nod without lifting his eyes from the floor, he was certain that if he looked up he'd say yes to anything the kid said. Go play some ball? Sure! Have some pie? Sure! Come home? Sure! That just could not happen.
"You okay bud?" John did his best to act nonchalant without giving in to his need to rush over and shake the rumpled figure in front of him until he came to his senses and then hug him until his ribs creaked.
Sam could not believe his ears. Does he freakin' look okay you idiot? He ran away because of you and your stupid ass mouth!
"M'fine."
This is where Dean hoped that, 'if you told a lie enough times, it became the truth,' thing kicked in.
"How ya been?"
Dean took his seat again and twiddled the remote in his hands, god it was like talking to complete strangers only worse, because he knew them, for two freakin' years he knew them! They were his family!
"Fine."
Okay... maybe a couple more times and that weird thing called 'truth,' starts to work its magic.
"Brought you pie, your favourite," Mary tried this time, smiling reassuringly. This was definitely not going as she had hoped. She thought that it might not be a good idea to not tell Dean they were coming but Sam, John and Steve were all certain that he would run.
"Thanks, m'fine." She wasn't even asking a question that time you idiot!
"Dean, we're not aliens. You don't have to do that honey, we know you too well for that to work."
"M'fine," Dean repeated stubbornly through gritted teeth, he heard the TV remote crunch alarmingly under the pressure he had gripped on it and, carefully putting it down, decided a deep breath or five were in order.
"Alright, we believe you." John awkwardly took a seat by Dean"So, who's playing today?" Why was this so hard? Dean was his son!
As they all sat in the living room, silent and stiff, John couldn't shake the sensation in his stomach that was quickly rising to the surface. It felt like they knew Dean inside and out, his every habit, like, dislike, every part of him they had down to a tee... but Dean didn't know them at all and they were meeting for the first time ever, introducing themselves, like it was, 'hey, I know who you are, you're Dean right? I'm John, this is Mary my wife and this is my son, Sam.' It was odd, and not in a good way.
"That hurt?" John asked when he noticed the red knuckles and split skin on Dean's right hand.
Dean shook his head, it only hurt as much as the rest of him.
"What did you do it on?"
Dean stayed silent, no one expected him to answer, least of all tell the truth, "Punched the wall."
Sighing in sympathy, John took Dean's hand in his, one thing only running through his mind, please don't flinch, please don't flinch! He prayed, surprised when Dean kept himself still as he studied the hand before setting it back on Dean's knee, there wasn't much you could do for bruised knuckles at this point aside from let them heal on their own.
"The rest of you okay?"
Dean shrugged studying the carpet. "Yeah, m'good, thanks," he answered sincerely. He'd never admit it but he hadn't been able to stop the feeling of warmth at John's attention.
Everyone in the room was so wrapped up in watching Dean like a hawk –and didn't he know it- that no one even heard Steve enter from the safety of the kitchen. They all jumped when he spoke.
"Dinner will be at two, you guys wanna watch the parade 'til then?" Steve asked walking around to the coffee table. He retrieved the remote then handed it to Dean, he was calling the shots today, it was the least he could do for setting him up which he had obviously caught on because the glare he received was a nasty one.
Dean set the remote down without turning the TV back on and went back to gawking at the floor, he could feel every single eye in the room on him and he didn't like it one bit.
"M'gonna go brush my teeth," he mumbled slipping from the room to go upstairs, maybe he would hide out in the bathroom today, he wasn't leaving the house that was for sure, not with three adults to keep him in, not to mention Sam's puppy eyes of doom.
SPN
"Well, that went well," John grumbled as he watched the kid leave so fast there was a Dean shaped hole in the couch.
"He just needs time John, bit of pie in him and he'll be right as rain." Steve smiled and tried to be optimistic.
"Dean doesn't like rain," Sam reminded them all.
"Right as... snow then," Dean liked the snow, what kid didn't? The kid could stay as long as he needed but Steve sincerely hoped he'd be back with his family before the snow flew.
Sam didn't wait for anyone else to make a random uncomfortable attempt to make things seem better than they were, leaving just as he heard Steve asked if anybody would like something to drink. He stood from the floor he had sat himself down on a couple of minutes ago and went straight to re-tracing Dean's footsteps upstairs.
When he got there, he could hear water running behind a closed door. He debated with himself whether he should just charge in or not but the potential for embarrassment was just too great. "Dean? Are you okay?"
"Mmhhmm," was the muffled reply around from what he was sure was a toothbrush. Sam waited for the spit of toothpaste to carry on.
"Can I come in?"
"M'fine." Okay if it wasn't starting to be true by now, it never would be.
"Dean..."
"Sam I said I'm fine." No, he wasn't, his head hurt, his whole body ached, he felt sick, he needed sleep, his wrists were staring to sting, his brain was so numb thanks to the nightmares wearing his sanity down to almost nothing, he just wanted to feel human again. All he needed was an infection or a cut to be too deep next time he brought his knife out, and his ass was grass as they say. Lucky for him.
"Dean, come out, please, how many times have you been to brush your teeth today?"
There was the buzz of silence, "This would be the fifth," he replied shamefully, that was how many times had he woken up, gone to the bathroom to wash up, before sinking back down on the couch and drifting off, waking yet again then going to brush his teeth and rinse his face like it was another start to the day.
He unlocked the door and sat himself on the end of the tub waiting for the kid to come in, he expected Sam to have that look on his face, the one of sympathy, pity. Then he realized, Sam had never not once looked at him that way, his sympathy was mere understanding. It took just one hand on his shoulder for him to see why he missed the kid as much as he had this last week.
"Are you okay?" Sam asked, too mature for his age.
"No... you?" Dean managed to scrape up enough energy to attempt a smirk, whether he pulled it off or not he didn't know.
"Nope, not really," Sam sat himself down next to Dean and tried to keep his eyes forward, Dean didn't like to be stared at, he liked eye contact but he didn't like to be studied and examined under a microscope like a damn lab rat.
"Hmm," Dean mumbled looking at his hands, it was dinner in a few hours, maybe he should wash them again.
"How many times have you done that today?" Sam asked as he stood by the sink with soap in his palm.
Dean shrugged, yup, Sam knew him well.
"Sam, really, I'm fine."
He was clutching at straws now, but it was like the last act of a desperate man, he didn't really have anything else to go at.
"Liar," Sam's tone was hard to read, Dean wasn't quite sure if it was meant in humour, or meant as a stab in the gut, maybe both?
"It's been said."
Sam could only sigh, he didn't know how to reply to that.
"If I ask you something, promise not to get mad?"
"Okay?" Dean was slightly worried now, Sam's usual 'promise not to get mad' conversations more often than not weren't the happiest of topics.
"Promise?" Sam pressed, eye contact now being used, Dean would appreciate that on this subject he was sure.
"Yeah, I promise." Dean was looking right back at him, no eye rolls toward the floor, no flicks to the bit of fluff on his shirt, complete and total attention to Sam, that was always a good sign. Sam took comfort in that and carried on.
"How come you don't even wanna consider this scar fixing surgery?"
"I dunno," Dean instantly shrugged, now fighting back the pain to even blink.
"Come on, you can't say its 'cause you're afraid of needles after what you've been through."
"It's not, it's nothing like that."
"Then what is it? I mean, I know why..." thanks to your email, "but I don't understand'...they remind you of who you really are'? What... what do you mean?"
"I-, I don't know." Sorry kid, can't tell you, can barely tell myself.
"Don't give me that crap, just talk to me please or I swear I will kick your ass!"
"That'll be a neat trick. You think your scrawny butt could take me down?"
"Dean, you're changing the subject."
"And if you weren't such a brainiac you wouldn't have noticed."
Sam was frustrated, his brother was still stalling. He knew he needed to pull out the big guns and unleashed his most powerful weapon against which Dean had no defence.
Dean wilted underneath the puppy dog eyes. "Look, I need them, I already told you I need them, I'm not gonna say anything else on the subject, please just respect that I don't wanna talk about it anymore, you always used to."
Well shit! Sam gasped, he hadn't realized... when did he stop being a brother and start being some asshole journalist fishing for information? "I'm... I'm sorry," tears stung his eyes and not once did they drop from Dean's gaze as the water dripped out.
"Sam, Sammy please don't cry," Dean begged, hating the pathetic plead in his voice.
"M'sorry, I didn't mean to." The tears brought hiccups and the hiccups brought sobs.
Dean placed his hands on Sam's jittering shoulders, god he hated it when the kid cried, he hated it so damn much he wanted to ring the neck of whoever made his brother's face look so sad, trouble was, it was kinda hard to ring your own neck without killing yourself for good.
"Alright, I know, I know I didn't mean it like that kid, I just... please just let me deal okay? Please I'll tell you sometime just... not now, not today." Not ever if I can put it off long enough.
Sam sniffled, wiped his eyes and spat something under his breath about being a baby.
"Hey, stop it," Dean warned squeezing Sam's shoulders before patting him on the back, no one was going to be mean to Sam, not even Sam!
The sides of Sam's mouth tugged upwards and it was a pretty good feeling when the tugs pulled hard enough to create a smile. As Sam did so, Dean felt a warm fuzz in the bottom of his stomach where the black hole had made a home for itself. Huh, seems like something wants it to move out!
TBC...
I repeat, Tumblr anyone? :D
