So I Will Drink the Whisky and You Will Drink the Rain
[Title from Abbie's Song by Joe Purdy]
The next morning John had woken up confused and hung-over with little memory of the night before. He had shaken Dean awake and demanded to know what was going on. Dean had given him a potted version of last night events (sans Mr Kale's presence of course).
John had just looked a little paler (and that was quite a feat) and mumbled something about getting his truck before slowly going and getting in the shower. Leaving Dean alone, he wondered whether Sam was being dropped off or he was supposed to be going to get him. He decided to ring Sam to find out since he doubted his father had the faintest clue.
God he hoped his father hadn't been drunk before Sam had gone to his girlfriends; he was suddenly hit with the worrying thought that maybe that was why Sam had gone to Louise's. No, that couldn't be it, Sam would definitely have come straight to him if that had of been the case.
Sam picked up on the third ring, answering with a very sleepy "Hello?"
"Hey dude, it's Dean."
"Yeah, I got that, what is it?"
"I was just wondering how you were planning to get home."
"Dad said he'd come get me. Wait," Sam suddenly seemed wide awake, "Where are you? Where is dad? Has he left?"
"What? No, of course he hasn't left, why on earth would he have left? Did he say something to you last night?"
"No, of course not, if he told me he was leaving why would I think he was my ride? Why you can't ask him is why I'm confused. Is he okay?"
"Yeah, of course he's fine; he just... he got in a fight last night. And now he's just a little sketchy on the details is all, no need to worry. I'll come get you, okay? What time do you want me to come?"
"Well, we're gonna have breakfast I think, so maybe 10?"
"Sure... wait... did you two... oh my God... you sly dog..."
"Dean no! God! You have a one track mind; I'm THIRTEEN, seriously; one, three, thirteen. I don't care WHEN you started your life of debauchery!"
"Well, you slept over what was I supposed to think?"
"That she had a party, that ten of us stayed over! Have you even seen dad? Surely he remembers that, are you sure he's okay?"
"Jesus Samantha, he's fine, okay? I didn't think to ask is all, now I'm coming to get you at ten, okay? See you then."
"Sure Dean, see ya."
Dean smiled and felt the tension leave his body; a happy Sam could do that to a guy, y'know? He thought back to the night before and suddenly things didn't seem so bad, sure things were a bit screwed up in their family but hell, everyone's family was screwed up in some way, if you didn't see it you just weren't looking hard enough.
He found himself staring out into the snow and wishing he could go see Lindsay. But now was not the time. As well as Mr Kale had seemed to deal with last night's little emergency, it was the morning after, he might have reconsidered his position on the whole thing by now. He might not be in the mood to see him quite yet, he didn't want to push his luck. He had talked the guy out of calling child services by pointing out that being a ward of the state would be much worse than living with his family; his blood. He figured he clinched it when he said he'd rather die than lose Sammy
They had come to an agreement on what they would tell their respective families. The Kale's would simply hear that they had picked John from a bar and taken him home. Dean had told Adam it would be best if John never knew he was there; he had gotten an odd look from the older man so he added that it was just simpler that way. He had seen a look of doubt and maybe a little worry in Mr Kale's narrowed eyes but the man had agreed so he had ignored it.
Really Dean didn't want to tell his father because if he did he was sure they would just up and leave, just in case; didn't want the cops or social services on their asses now did they.
He had given in to Mr Kale's request for their number though; it wasn't like he couldn't get it from Lindsay anyhow, but it felt like an 'I trust you' and he felt like they both needed that at the time. Now he wasn't so sure, but in the cold light of day things often seem different somehow, like they had been skewed by the darkness.
He snorted at his own paranoia; what did he think the guy was going to do? It was a phone number not his social security number or his bank account details (not that he had a bank account that acwasn't technically someone elses of course but you get the idea.) He had promised to call Adam if ever there was a problem to insure he didn't rat him out. When people like the Adam felt trusted they found it almost impossible to betray that trust. He was a good man, a loyal man and Dean was going to make the most of it. He refused to call it 'taking advantage' because this was his life he was protecting; there was no second place.
He glanced at his watch deciding that he needed to leave in about half an hour if he wanted to be there with plenty of time in case of traffic. He jumped at the sound of the front door being throw slammed shut; apparently John was off, he ran after him when he remembered the car situation.
"Wait!"
"God, would you take it down a notch Dean. My head is killing me."
"And whose fault is that?" Dean retorted kicking himself the second it came out. What the hell was wrong with him?
"Watch it." John growled as he climbed into the Impala.
"Yes sir,"Dean replied automatically, almost turning to go back inside before suddenly remembered why he had come after him in the first place, "Dad stop, I need the car. Sam needs picking up at ten."
"Oh right, well get in, we can pick him up on the way."
"Great." Dean said unconvincingly which earned him another hard look. Just keep on digging he thought, wincing internally.
"So where is your truck?" Dean asked as they set off.
"What?" John growled
"Your truck, I assume if you're planning to get it you must actually know where it is."
"Right. Yeah." John's voice sounded... off somehow but Dean wasn't sure what that meant.
"So where is it?" Dean asked with more than a little confusion.
"Where I left it yesterday." Gruff and evasive as usual, Dean didn't know what he had been thinking expecting some kind of actual answer.
They made it to where Sam was a little earlier than Dean had planned; apparently John had thrown caution to the wind and was driving like he was in one hell of a hurry. Who knows? Maybe he was, the man was a complete mystery half of the time. Yes; revenge and mystery with a heavy dose of violence, that about summed the man up.
"I'll go get him, okay? Stay here, I won't be long." Dean said rushing out of the car before John had the chance to reply, knowing full well said response would not be a pleasant one.
Apparently their dad was too hung over to bother following him which Dean supposed was a blessing. He knocked on the door and tried to look as respectable as possible; not easy in torn jeans, biker boots and a leather jacket. The woman who answered the door looked distinctly unimpressed, as usual.
Dean knew this woman to be Louise's step-mother; she wasn't that much older than Louise herself truth be told, but she dressed like someone a decade or so older than she actually was; as though that made up for it. Just because she dressed like some conservative, forty year old, statesman's wife didn't make her seem like less of a gold digger when her husband was pushing sixty, overweight and seriously rich.
"Yes?" she sneered questioningly even though she had recognised him straight away.
"Well, ma'am," he started, almost mockingly, "I'm here to pick up Sam."
"Right, stay here." She said leaving him on the doorstep, with a clear 'you are not invited in'. Like he wanted to come into her poxy house and steal her poxy stuff, he rolled his eyes. Or maybe he should steal something, teach her a lesson... He had waited five minutes before Sam appeared saving Louise's step-mother a life lesson.
"Dude, you're early, I told you ten."
"I know Sammy, sorry, change of plans. Dad wanted to get his truck and I..." he stopped suddenly realising their father couldn't have been off to get his truck originally because he would have needed Dean to come with him if he had. How else was he planning to get both vehicles' home? He looked back to the Impala, where the hell had the old man been off to? Dean had a sinking feeling that alcohol may have been the goal.
"...Earth to Dean?" Sam said waving a hand in front of his brother's face. Dean slapped the hand away.
"What?"
"You just trailed off and started staring into space; I should be the one asking 'what?'"
"Shut up. Just get your stuff and get to the car before dad leaves us both standing here like idiots."
Sam gave Dean a weird look but complied without complaint. Dean trudged down the overly grand driveway back to the Impala and got in slamming the door loud enough to wake the lightly snoozing John Winchester.
"Where are you going exactly?"
"To get my truck like you said."
"Really? And what, you were planning to drive both cars home at once?"
"No, I got you for that." He replied angrily.
"Yeah, but you wouldn't have. You almost went without me."
"Well thank God I had such an amazing son who rushed after me then." John said sarcastically.
They were saved from any escalation by Sam yanking a door open and saying 'Hi' a little too loudly. The car descended into stony silence after Sam had got in and noticed the atmosphere.
They drove to a bar not too far from the place where the 'trouble' had started last night. Dean was struck with a little irritation at how easily John had found the place. Of course he remembered where his truck was, where his son was on the other hand... not so much. Dean decided not to make this observation aloud as it would only end up causing a car full of either pissed off, or sulky and offended occupants. So not worth it.
John got out of the car and began striding over to his truck before he stopped, glancing back at his sons, appearing to be mulling something over. He finally motioned Dean over.
"I... uh... d'you think you could get my other set of keys from the bar?" he asked quietly. Dean narrowed his eyes.
"Why can't you?"
"Because I'm asking you." He replied glibly. Dean was a little surprised he was being asked not ordered if he was honest, he kept that to himself though.
"Look, I need you to tell me why in case it might impact how I choose to get your keys, okay?" Dean said as patiently as possible, struggling to keep the irritation out of his voice. John closed his eyes letting out a huff of air, resigned.
"I didn't pay the tab before I left, Okay? But the guy was being an asshole and really should just consider himself lucky I let him get away with what he said. So get them. Now." Well, there were the orders then.
"Right." Dean said turning away angrily setting out toward the bar before his father came up with anymore bullshit excuses. Of course it was everyone else's fault, God forbid the great John Winchester did something wrong.
He managed to sneak in and lift the keys, bypassing any awkward questions. By the time he made it out however his dad had hightailed it out of there with the other set of keys. Great, just great, nothing like a bit of gratitude, eh?
Sam was waiting for him in the impala looking freezing. It was warmer than last night but the temperature was still pretty low and he wasn't really dressed for it. More snow was threatening, and that didn't seem like the wonderful prospect it had at Lindsay's the day before.
"Dad said he had to make a quick stop before he went back to the motel and that we should meet him there."
"Right, of course, don't suppose he said what he was doing?"
"Have you met our dad?" Sam joked, his smile dropping at the pensive look on Dean's face. "What's going on with you guys? Is everything okay?"
Dean just sighed before starting up the engine. Ignoring the questions he simply said he was freezing his balls off so they better shift it back to the relative warmth of the motel. Dean said no more about their father, trying to distract Sam with a question about last night. Sam saw it for what it was but decided to let it go.
XXXXX
They had been back at the motel for about 40 minutes when John arrived, his arms clutching two paper bags filled with food and other household goods. What clarified the surprise shopping trip for Dean though, was that familiar clink of glass from within one of the bags. His father generally either left the shopping until Dean did it or he was at least had to be reminded that the cupboards were bare.
Dean, until he had realised that the food was essentially a cover for a booze run, had been pleasantly surprised; making the truth seem just that bit more crushing. He had been unable to stop himself glaring hotly at his father. John knew he'd been caught straight away but decided to act innocent anyway.
"What?"
"YOU..." Dean started, toning it down to a hiss remembering Sam was home. "You are unbelievable!"
With that he left, slamming the door behind him, desperately wanting to punch someone in the face. If he hadn't made it out that someone could easily have been his father. He leant against his car, breathing heavily. Sam came up behind him; obviously he had heard the door slam and wanted to know what was going on.
"Are you okay, Dean?"
"I'm fine."
"No you're not!" Sam yelled frustrated. "You've been in a weird mood all morning. What the hell is going on? You can tell me! Did you and Lindsay have another fight?"
"What? No, why would you think that?"
"Because I know you and you obviously had a fight with someone who you couldn't punch in the face. And since the only people you wouldn't punch in the face when you're that annoyed is dad or a girl, I figured it had to be one of the two. Since you wouldn't lie if it were Lindsay you must have been fighting with dad; simple process of elimination Dean."
"God, that big brain of yours is annoying. How 'bout you put it to some real good, like figuring out how to get into Louise's pants." Dean joked gruffly; nothing like diversion tactics, eh?
"Nice try Dean, tell me what's going on."
Dean let out a sigh and let his head rest on the roof of the impala. "Look Sam, everything's fine, okay? So I had a fight with dad; big deal. I'm gonna go out, blow off some steam and I'll be fine."
"Last time you said that you ended up getting into a fist fight in a grocery store."
"Lucky dad just went shopping then, isn't it?" Dean snorted and Sam smiled. Whilst he could see some of the tension had left Dean's frame, anger still radiated through him; that would be obvious to a blind man.
"Dean, I feel like we keep having this same conversation but nothing ever gets really resolved. It just cools off for a couple weeks or months and then there we are again. It's like we're caught in this relentless forward motion but really we don't seem to be going anywhere at all. Just round and round in circles. He drags us all over the country, state after state, never staying still. And the more things change the more they stay the same. Is this going to be our life forever? 'Cos Dean, I'm not sure I can live like this forever and neither can you, whether you want to admit it or not..."
Flattening his back against the car he slid down to the ground by the wheel well. He started talking quietly with a kind of far off tone that left Sam unsure as to whether he actually speaking to him or just thinking aloud. Sam joined him on the ground
"He's our dad. It's just the three of us, that's it. And sometimes... sometimes that means we have to make sacrifices. Do things we'd rather not."
"But for what? None of us are happy..."
Dean's head turned sharply at his words. "But he's helping people, saving them. We all are. Isn't that enough?"
Dean looked up, the soft, questioning, self-doubting words dampening his eyes. Sam answered honestly, "I don't know."
"Yeah, me neither." Came Dean gentle, surprising admission. Sam found himself shocked at his brother words; he had never heard such doubt for their father's mission.
"You're gonna be alright though Dean, right?" Sam voice sounded shaky and uncertain; so childish.
"Yeah, of course." Dean said slinging an arm round his brother, false bravado back in place. "Well, I'd better get up on 'cos my ass is going numb. Damn I'm gonna have to change these jeans before I go; damn snow."
"Where are you going?"
"Think I'm gonna go see Linds, apologise for last night."
"What happened? I thought you said everything was fine?"
"It is, it's just I had to leave to go get dad."
"Is that why you're annoyed with him?"
"No, not really."
"Is he okay? Is this something to do with his drinking?" Dean looked shocked, Sam knew? Sam rolled his eyes at his brother.
"I'm not an idiot Dean."
"No, I guess not. He's okay though, he's always okay."
"But you're worried about him."
"Yeah, but hey, that's my job; to worry about you two knuckle heads." He punctuated this by grabbing Sam in a headlock, messing up his hair. Sam laughed and shoved his way out of his brother's grip. Turning more serious he looked into Sam's eyes, "Just, stay out of his way a bit, okay? He needs a little space I think."
"Okay."
"Right, now go get your work done."
"Ha! That's a joke coming from you." They both laughed knowing Sam had a point. "I see you later, okay?"
"Okay."
XXXXX
He arrived at Lindsay's wondering if he should just sneak in instead of knocking. His plan to avoid the Kale's had (no matter how sensible it was) ended when he realised how desperately he wanted, no needed to see Lindsay.
He decided not to be a total chicken and just bite the bullet; front door it was. He held his breath as he waited for someone to come to the door.
"Dean..." it was Lindsay, a breath he hadn't know he was holding was expelled loudly.
"Lindsay, how are you? Are you okay?" at this he was given a strange look.
"I'm fine, is there a reason I wouldn't be?" she asked with a slightly confused smile.
"No! Of course not... I ... um... Are your parents home?" he asked glancing into the house nervously.
"No... did you need to speak to them?"
"What? No of course not, I just wanted to say... hi?" he said unconvincing.
"Okay, if you're done being weird, how bout you come in." She laughed.
"Oh, yeah, sorry." Dean said awkwardly. "So, uh, did you talk to your dad? Y'know, about last night?"
"Oh, is that what this is about, of course he told me." Panic flashed through Dean's stomach painfully. He tried for nonchalance anyway.
"Yeah, uh, what did he say?"
"Wow, I don't think I've ever seen you flap like this before." She laughed. "Don't worry; he passed on your apologies. It's not your fault you had to go get your dad from a bar."
"Yeah, of course, I know that." She turned more serious at his ever so slightly defensive tone as he avoided her eyes. She put out a hand to rub his arm gently.
"It's okay Dean, my parents don't think any less of you. If anything my dad seems to be better if anything. You want to come upstairs? My parents are out with friends for the day so you don't have to worry about avoiding my dad."
Dean had to laugh at that, "You really have me pegged, huh?"
"Oh yeah, in a big way you open book you."
They spent a couple of hours laughing and joking around. Dean felt as almost as though the day before had never happen; just some bad dream that could be swallowed by the sunshine.
He found himself staring at Lindsay's face, taken over by a giant goofy smile as she explained one of the weird photographs on the pin board over her desk. It was a yellowing and battered one of her and her brother dressed like utter 'weirdo's' as she put it because her parents had decided to let them wear whatever they wanted when they were little no matter what they looked like. Suddenly without thinking he grabbed Lindsay up in a hug. She rested her head on his shoulder squeezing him tightly in return before after a minute pulled back looking at him with a questioning look in her eyes.
"What was that about?"
"You don't like spontaneous hugs from devastatingly good looking young men?" Dean joked in mock offence to hide his own surprise at his actions. Where the hell had that come from?
"Dean," she said seeing through his facade, "Talk to me, please?"
Dean sat down on her putting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I don't know, I just... I felt like hugging you. I just needed to touch you, to be connected, y'know?"
"Yeah," she said with a soft smile as she down next to him, pleasantly surprised at his uncharacteristic openness. Gently she took his chin and turned to face her, leaning in until she was millimetres away from his. He tilted his head just a little, so they fit together perfectly. Lindsay revelled in the warmth of his breath as it tickled her lip that was so very close. She realised she was holding her breath.
He looked her straight in the eye, silently asking if she was really sure, he instantly saw the confirmation and captured her lips. He was forceful but not rough, with that confidence that coloured all his actions. Desire spiralled through her violently as she kissed him back; she felt her control disappearing with each moan that erupted uninhibited from them both.
It was almost surreal as he started to remove her shirt, lust taking over his features making him seem even more beautiful; this raw masculinity almost contradicting his delicate features, a sexuality that refused to be quieted. She had never felt so... wanted.
The dizzying realisation that this would be her 'first time' left her breathless and excited. She was ready for this, she wanted this; she needed this. And then she stopped thinking; like they were the only people that existed. They were caught up in their own rhythm; like there was a song playing that only they could hear. And the soft light of the sun as it started to fall through the sky suddenly made the world just a little bit more beautiful than it had ever been before.
Afterward they lay there in a cocoon of pleasure and calm; tingling in ecstasy and exhaustion. Neither spoke, neither knew what to say. It was just right; they just knew it as certainly as they knew the earth was round. And so they slept.