Dean woke up just after ten on Saturday, which was the time he usually woke up on the weekends so he could do some work without missing out on rest. Today, however, was not a day that he'd be working. A renewed spring in his step, he stood from the worn mattress and stretched, his tense muscles thanking him by sending sweet release over his tired body. He hadn't been sleeping well, but when it came to old mattresses that smelled musty and dug between his shoulder blades, was it really his fault?
Dean showered and dressed in a ratty AC/DC shirt and jeans before pulling on his boots and gelling his hair. Yeah, his heart sank at the prospect of seeing Lisa, but he was going to a Yankees game with Ben, what was better than that? As he left, he made a mental note to buy a new bed set, pillows, and a mini fridge on his way back. He checked his phone as he walked out to his car.
SMS Message from Honey
9:21A 5/7/16
"How are you feeling? We didn't talk much yesterday."
It was true, the day before Dean had been pretty busy with work. With the work he'd been putting off to text the mysterious man, to be more specific.
SMS Message to Honey
11:02A 5/7/16
"Actually, I'm feeling great. Going to take my son to a Yankees game."
Dean sent the text and started driving. It was the strangest thing, that he was suddenly so attached to the boy, calling him his. It made sense, in a way, given that absence made the heart grow fonder, and having Ben forcefully taken from him was about the worst since he couldn't legally do anything to keep him. After all, he wasn't actually his. He mulled over the missed chances with Ben as he grew; times when he'd been too caught up in his own work and the problems with his marriage, never thinking for a second that that time wouldn't be able to be made up in the years to come. He sighed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and pulling up in front of the cottage on the outskirts of town. He checked his phone on his way up to ring the doorbell.
SMS Message from Honey
11:03A 5/7/16
"Oh, you have a son?"
SMS Message from Honey
11:41A 5/7/16
"Yeah, he's ten. Well, he's not mine, he's my ex-wife's, but I raised him ya know? That's gotta count for something."
Lisa answered the door, wearing black yoga pants and a pink sweater, a warm smile over her lips. Dean couldn't deny that she looked happier, more full of life, than she ever had with him, even when things were good between them.
"Hey." She said quietly and Dean's heart caught in his throat. He swallowed it down so he could speak.
"Hey, Lisa. Is he ready?" Dean shifted on his feet, phone buzzing in his hand before he stuffed it away in his pocket.
"Yeah, just about. Listen, I want to talk to you about the divorce." Dean nodded slowly, unable to really say anything as she stepped around the door, toes over the metal that divided the house from the porch. He caught a whiff of expensive perfume, nothing she'd ever worn before. "I'm going to file for divorce on Monday. If I file, then you shouldn't have to pay alimony or anything. I'm not going to ask for child support because Ben and I will be fine, and I'm not going to mention the infidelity on either side. Basically, we won't have to take this to court unless you want to. It can be civil." Dean blew out a breath he didn't know he was holding and nodded again, more weight being lifted from his shoulders despite the sinking in his gut. Lisa leaned against the door jamb, dark hair casually rolling over her shoulder as she awaited his reply.
"Yeah." Dean's voice was raspy, clogged, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Yeah, that sounds great, actually." He ran his hand over the back of his neck and shuffled his feet in the universal sign for discomfort before nodding. "Yeah."
Lisa paused for a moment before speaking again. "I know this is difficult, and I really am sorry for leaving like I did. I could've done it better, but I didn't want you to talk me out of it, and you know you would've." She sighed, folding thin, but strong, arms over her full chest. "I'll try to make it as easy on you as possible."
Dean blinked the tears away, silently cursing them as he took in a deep breath and looked up into dark brown eyes. "Yeah, you could've done different, but you didn't." He shrugged. "Just.. Send the papers to my office and I'll sign them when I get them, alright?" In that moment, Dean realized how much easier the whole thing would've been if he hated the woman across the threshold. How much less it would hurt if anger would engulf the pain and just leave him to either drink it away or punch it out at the gym. It would've even helped if Lisa was being a bitch, but she never was, never had been. Even as they danced over the shattered remains of their marriage she was just as sweet as she'd always been and that, more than anything, was what hurt.
"I guess I'll go get Ben then." Lisa picked up on the note of pain in Dean's voice and straightened from the door. "I'll send the papers when I get them, and I really am sorry." She sighed and disappeared, leaving the door open. Once she'd left, Dean pulled out his phone and read the response.
SMS Message from Honey
11:44A 5/7/16
"It counts for everything. He's not yours and yet you still stepped up to the plate. That's honorable in more ways than one."
Dean smiled, still reeling from the torrent of emotion that followed his exchange with Lisa, but feeling a bit better, a bit lighter, from the response from the stranger.
SMS Message to Honey
11:45A 5/7/16
"Thanks man, I really needed to hear that."
Dean tucked his phone away, wondering how the man who knew so little about him knew exactly what to say when he needed to hear it. He knew what to say on Thursday to get him to open up, spilling his grief all over the floor in a sticky mess, and what to say right then to lift him from the dumps where he'd been thrown.
"Dad!" Dean was pulled back to the present as Ben rounded a corner, sporting a red Yankees ball cap and a Call of Duty shirt, and ran straight for him. He barely had enough time to ready himself before the boy launched himself into his arms and nearly toppled them both over backward and onto the pavement. Dean grunted and hugged the kid, grinning into small shoulders.
"Hey kiddo, how've ya been? Your mom treating you okay? She feeding you good enough?"
Ben giggled and nodded, pulling back to look at Dean. The last time the boy had been so excited was when he was five and Dean had had to take a trip to Ontario to discuss expanding the company. He'd come back two weeks later and had actually been tackled to the ground. "Yeah, it's okay. Brady can cook pretty good." Dean clenched his jaw at the name, but didn't drop the smile as he set the kid down and looked at Lisa.
"Have him back by nine, okay? That's his bed time."
Dean barely kept from scoffing. He knew what time Ben went to bed. "Yeah, course." He nodded to Lisa and turned around, but his movements were halted by a soft hand on his shoulder. He turned to look back at Lisa, when she leaned forward and gently pressed her plump lips to his cheek before pulling away.
The bottom of Dean's stomach dropped out and nausea ripped through him. He pat Ben's back, motioning him to the car before levelling a glare at Lisa and leaning forward. "Don't ever do that again." He growled, quietly enough that the boy couldn't hear. Lisa's eyes went wide in surprise.
"I didn't think-"
"No, you didn't. Don't fucking kiss me. Ever. Got it?"
Lisa blinked a few times and nodded. "I'm sorry."
Dean shuddered a breath and turned away, following Ben down the cobblestone and to his Impala. He felt sick as wave after wave of pain and loss rolled beneath his skin. "You ready to go watch baseball?"
"Eh..." Ben replied as Dean opened the back door to let him in. "I brought Pokemon though, so I'll probably play that."
Dean gave a strained chuckle and shut the door after him, slipping into the driver's seat and starting the car, pausing for a moment to pull out his phone.
SMS Message from Honey
11:46A 5/7/16
"I told you before. I'm here just about any time you need me."
He sighed out at the response and swallowed, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as he tried to think of what to say. 'Help, I need you'? Weak, pitiful, and he wasn't that man.
SMS Message to Honey
12:01P 5/7/16
"What's your biggest fear?"
They got to the stadium about half an hour before the game was scheduled to start and got their concessions - soda and a hot dog for Ben and beer and nachos for Dean - before heading up to the box. There was generally food there, fancy food for fancy people, but Dean liked the other concessions better. They were greasy and sat in his stomach and made him think of growing up on macaroni and cheese and diners, if they had the money. It was the little things that made him feel like himself. He and Ben found a comfy red couch right in front of the giant window right over home plate and sat, balancing their food and drinks before Dean pulled over a little table for them to use. After getting situated, he checked his phone again.
SMS Message from Honey
12:02P 5/7/16
"Being stuck at the same dead-end job for the rest of my life. Why? What's your biggest fear?"
SMS Message to Honey
12:12P 5/7/16
"Just.. Curious I guess. Needed something to get my mind off some things."
Dean contemplated what to say for a moment before adding his next line.
"Planes, man. I fucking hate planes."
The box slowly filled up in the minutes leading up to the star spangled banner, although Dean and Ben's couch seemed to be low on the list of places people wanted to sit. Dean swallowed the last dregs of his watery beer and stood, glancing down at Ben. "I'm gonna go get some more, okay?"
Ben, who was deeply enthralled in his video game, nodded without looking up. Dean couldn't resist ruffling his hair as he left, which meant Ben did look up, but only to glare at him as he chuckled, feeling a bit better.
He skirted through the upper class society who'd wanted to get some fresh air without leaving their lavish lifestyle behind, heading back the way he'd come when a familiar figure, tall with dark salt and pepper hair and an air of arrogance and sex, danced into his peripheral vision and he turned his head. "I didn't know you were a Yankees fan!" Dean exclaimed, heading over to Cain and sticking out his hand, carefully placing the practiced smile on his face.
"I'm actually not." Cain corrected, accepting Dean's hand and shaking it firmly before dropping his arm to his side. "My date is."
And only as Cain motioned to the man next to him, a few inches shorter than Dean himself, with dark hair, shocking blue eyes, and a strong jaw, did Dean recognize who it was and his brows rose. Truthfully, he hadn't even noticed the man in the maroon hoodie and jeans when he'd seen Cain.
"Mr. Winchester." Dean's receptionist greeted him with a stiff smile and a quick nod.
Shit, what was his name? Dean opened his mouth to respond, running through the list of names in his head. Not Crispin, not Christian, not Clarence, not Carson.
"Castiel," Cain began, cutting off Dean's frantic train of thought. Damn it. "I'm going to go get some hors d'oeuvres, would you like some?"
"Please." Castiel nodded politely and Cain smiled, leaning down and kissing him on the cheek and murmuring for him to find them some seats before disappearing into the crowd.
"I didn't even recognize you." Dean chuckled and rocked back on his heels, noticing as his receptionist's expression dropped to annoyance and he raised a brow.
"You didn't recognize me? I've been working for you for two and a half years."
Dean shrugged, fiddling with the plastic cup in his hand. "Never seen you in jeans and a hoodie, y'know?" He chuckled again, but Castiel didn't return the smile. Instead, he shook his head and brushed past Dean to go look for a spot to sit. Dean stared after him, surprised that he would act so rudely, but shook it off and checked his texts as he walked back to concessions for more beer.
SMS Message from Honey
12:19P 5/7/16
"Wouldn't a boss-type like you have to fly frequently?"
SMS Message to Honey
12:21P 5/7/16
"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean I like it."
SMS Message from Honey
12:23P 5/7/16
"So, do I get to know your name yet?"
Dean chuckled, waiting as the boy behind the counter in the red cap refilled his cup.
SMS Message to Honey
12:24P 5/7/16
"Tell you what, I'm feeling generous, so I'll give you a hint. I was named after my grandmother. One of those names that can be changed between genders, you know? Like Robert for Roberta. How about you? Can I know yours?"
"Thanks." Dean accepted the plastic cup with the piss colored liquid inside and climbed the steps back to the box, his phone buzzing just as he stepped off the last step.
SMS Message from Honey
12:25P 5/7/16
"I'll give you a hint. I was named after the angel of Thursday."
Dean hummed thoughtfully, wishing he remembered more of the stories his mother used to tell him before bed, the ones of angels and demons and grand battles. He edited the contact in his phone, smiling softly to himself and sighing. He had a friend, a good friend, who would listen to his troubles and just talk with him about whatever, make him feel better and apparently wasn't too busy for him. Not to mention, he had a rather amazing trouser snake. Dean sent the next response quickly, just before a fat opera star walked onto the pitcher's mound to sing the National Anthem and everyone stood.
SMS Message to Angel
12:26P 5/7/16
"Kinda funny, huh? Since I met you on a Thursday."