Dean threw his jacket on the couch, running his hand over his face and trying to scrub out the exhaustion. He hadn't slept well since Cas left, even worse with all the stress that had been piling up on him. He had been avoiding going home as much as possible, hating the emptiness and the memories that assaulted him every time he came back. The countless hours racked up at the bar down the street from the hospital were eclipsing his time spent at home trying to sleep.
Angie had said she would call him as soon as Ben's results came in, and then she had made him leave, sent him home without another word, so how here he was.
Dean stayed on the couch for a while, staring blankly at the television and sipping from a glass of whiskey. His phone ringing made him jump, and the sight of his Dad's name on the caller ID surprised him even more. It had been several months since he'd heard from his Dad.
"Hey Dad, what's up?"
"Hey boy, just wanted to check up on you, see how things were. Your mother's been pesterin me and I've been forgetting to do it."
Dean smiled at his Dad's voice, wondering where in the world he would even start on how his life had been. "Things have been alright, stressful."
"Why don't you come have a drink with me, at the bar on 8th. It's been too long."
"Hell yeah it has. I'll be there in a half hour, sound good?" Dean stood, grabbing his coat.
"Sounds good, see you soon Dean."
Dean stuffed his phone back in his pocket, pulling his coat on and grabbing his keys. He needed to spend some time with his family, why had it taken him this long to think of it.
John was waiting for him at the bar, handing him a drink and slapping him on the shoulder. "Long time no see Boy."
Dean smiled at him, flopping onto the bar stool and sipping from the glass of perfectly strong whiskey. One of the many things he and his dad had in common was whiskey.
"How've things been? You look tired." John rested his elbow on the smooth surface of the bar, turning to look at his son.
Dean shrugged, really really not feeling like going into it right now. "Aggravating as usual."
John smiled. "Well it's nice to see you anyway. Mary has been talking about missing you, you should swing by some time."
"Yeah Dad, I will." Dean took another long drink from his glass.
They spent a little too long at the bar, and drank a little too much, and John managed to convince Dean to come home to visit his mother, and that got them in the Impala.
Mary was waiting for them in the kitchen, puttering around and, to Dean's delight, putting the finishing touches on a pie.
"Hey mom."
She spun, a gleaming smile on her face as she pulled Dean into a tight hug. "Dean, it's so nice to see you!"
John stole a dollop of the whipped cream adorning the top of the pie while Mary's back was turned, an innocent smile finding its way onto his face when she pulled away from Dean.
"You're just in time for pie too, apple cranberry." She gave John a look, not missing the track in the perfect layer of fluffy whiteness.
Dean sat at the table, a happy grin on his face when his Mom handed him a plate with a perfect slice of pie and a fork. It was still warm and Dean let out a little moan of happiness with his first bite.
"Mom, this is amazing."
They sat around the table, catching up and filling Dean with a genuine feeling of happiness. It had been way too long since the last time they had just sat around and talked like this, and the tension that had piled up on his shoulders seemed to melt away.
Mary talked him into staying the night, since he had drunk a bit more with John and was probably a little over the limit. He curled up on the couch, blushing when his Mom kissed him on the forehead.
"Geeze mom, I'm an adult."
Mary ruffled his hair. "You'll always be little to me. Get some rest."
Dean lay awake for a while after John and Mary went upstairs, the worry he had been avoiding all day coming back with a vengeance as he thought about Ben.
He had nearly fallen asleep when his phone buzzed. It took everything he had just to pick it up and open the message. It was well past two in the morning, so it made sense that Angie had texted him instead of calling. Dean felt his heart drop though the floor at the two-word message.
Positive. Leukemia.
Dean stared at the screen until it blurred out, fighting the knot in his chest as he tried his best not to break down sobbing. He didn't respond, he wouldn't know what to say anyway.
What was he going to say to Lisa? To Ben? They would have to start Ben on treatment as soon as possible, but the laundry list of side effects made his head swim.
He pulled himself up, drifting to the kitchen and pulling a clean cup out of the cupboard and tipping some of his Dad's whiskey into it. Dean found himself staring blankly at the wall across from the kitchen table, his mind unable to focus on anything and turning his thoughts into a sickening swirl of emotions.
Definitely gonna need more whiskey.
Author's notes: Short little chapter with some Mama and Papa Winchester. I couldn't resist. Poor Dean is really not having a good time.