"Ta-Da!" Olivia smiled dropping a white envelope in front of Dean as she and Maggie sat down at the lunch table. It was unusual to see Maggie at school at all, let alone on a Friday.
"Open it!" Maggie said.
"I told you not to get me anything for my birthday," Dean shook his head, pushing the envelope back across the table.
"Just open it," Maggie sighed. "You'll like it."
"I didn't even cost that much, and you'll be able to use it for a while," Olivia said.
Dean rolled his eyes as he grabbed the envelope back and opened it.
"Tim has a friend that makes them," Maggie said. "All he needs is a picture and forty bucks."
Dean twirled the driver's license of a Marcus Reynolds, who looked exactly like him, in his fingers. Everything was the same, height, weight, eye color, except today was Marcus's twenty second birthday.
"You got me a fake id?" Dean looked between the girls suspiciously, maybe his dad was right about people he choose to be around.
"Yeah," Olivia said placing her head on Dean's shoulder. "Now we don't gotta worry about getting into the campus clubs tonight."
"Tim's friend said the New Hampshire ones are wicked easy to make," Maggie said. "That's the one I have, no one questions it."
"Happy birthday, babe," Olivia said leaning in and kissing Dean on the cheek. "I'll pick you up tonight around eight?"
"My dad's supposed to be taking us out for dinner," Dean shrugged. "If Sam doesn't throw a complete fit, so eight's good."
"Excellent," Maggie smiled jumping up. "I'm getting out of here before someone sees me and I have to go to class."
"I have another present for you too," Olivia breathed into his ear. "But it's gonna have to wait til later."
"Really now," Dean smiled turning toward her.
She winked as she stood up than ran after Maggie out of the cafeteria and outside.
Sam was already home when Dean got there, since the middle school was on the other side of town, he took the bus, whereas Dean just walked the half a block home for the high school. He was trying to do his homework at the kitchen table while John yelled at him.
"Why couldn't you just do what I asked you to do?" John yelled.
"I'm doing my homework!" Sam screamed back. "The dishes will still be there in twenty minutes when I'm done. I wanna get this done while it's fresh in my mind."
"I asked you to wash the dishes before you left for school yesterday," John growled.
"And yesterday I was finishing a paper for my history class that was worth half my grade this quarter," Sam shot back. "I'll do them when I get to it."
Fights like this were getting more and more frequent when their dad was around. John had never put much into the boys school work, didn't really care, but Dean had always told Sam he needed to do well in school. Even when they were in elementary school Dean pushed it into his brother's head that school work came before anything else, even if Dean took the same apathetic approach to it that John did. Dean always felt like he had a built in excuse for not doing his work with his learning disability, but his brother was smart enough for the both of them. Sam could go somewhere, do good somewhere. He didn't have to be stuck in this life. Dean wanted the world for his little brother, and he knew somewhere their dad did too, but right now all John saw was a dirty house he'd asked nicely the first three times go get cleaned and teenage boy who just won't listen.
"I don't ask much of you, Sam," John continued. "All I wanted was for you to take five fucking minutes out of your life to wash the dishes. Is that really too much for you? You know how much your brother does? He does everything I ask him to do, no questions asked. He takes care of everything when I'm working and you can't be bothered to do one fucking thing?"
"I'm not Dean," Sam replied. "I'm actually trying to do something with my life."
"You're fucking thirteen years old," John said. "Just do what I tell you to do."
"I'm doing my fucking homework," Sam said, teeth tightly clenched.
"Talk like that to me again and you'll be seeing the backside of my hand," John told him. "As long as you live under my roof, you'll do what I tell you to do, and you'll learn some fucking respect while you're at it."
"Maybe I don't wanna live under whatever roof you decide is good enough for your children this week," Sam said. "Maybe I've had enough of moving around like a freakin' nomad and living out of car most of the time. Maybe I want a room where I don't have to listen to my brother snore and talk in his sleep all night. Maybe I want to have some privacy once and a while. All I really want to do is get good grades so I can get into a good college and get the hell away from you."
"Keep acting tough big man," John said closing the space between himself and Sam.
Dean slammed the front door loudly before it something truly horrific happened.
"What's going on?" Dean asked dropping his book bag in the chair between his dad and brother.
"Nothing," Sam said shaking his head, but keeping his eyes down on his textbook.
"Didn't sound like nothing from outside," Dean said.
"It's fine," Sam mumbled. "Just a day in life."
"Knock it off Sammy," John hissed.
"My name is Sam," he yelled slamming his book. "I'm only asking for one thing. I don't want to be babied. Just stop calling me that like I'm a little kid. I'm thirteen."
"Then act like it," John replied. He then walked to the fridge grabbed a beer bottle and sat down in front of the TV.
"And happy birthday to me," Dean mumbled as he picked up his bag and followed Sam into their room.
"You alright?" Dean asked going through his back pack to find the copy of the Vonnegut book he checked out of the library. He might not be much for school work, but these books, as much as he still hated the girl that introduced him to them, he couldn't keep himself away from them.
"I've been better," Sam said. "I just don't get why he has to be like that all the time. I didn't do anything and he just… flipped out."
"You know how he gets," Dean said finding the page he left off on. "It only would have taken, like, two minutes to wash those dishes, you know that right?"
"You're on his side?" Sam laughed. "Of course you are, Mr. Perfect."
"I'm not on anyone's side, okay, Sammy… Sam," Dean replied. "I just don't like listen to Dad screaming at you, especially when it's completely avoidable."
"You're just pissed because now we don't get to go out to dinner and you don't get pie," Sam huffed.
"I don't know who shoved that stick up your ass," Dean said. "But please pull it out before I kill you. It's a little early for all the teenage bullshit you're pulling and if I gotta deal with this for five more years, you're not going to live that long."
"Whatever," Sam sighed.
"What are you so mad about?" Dean asked.
Sam huffed and made eye contact through the hair Dean had day dreams about hacking off while the boy slept.
"I don't know," Sam shrugged.
"Is it a kid at school?" Dean pushed. "A teacher? Dad? Me? The moving around? Give me something, kid and I'll try to fix it."
"It's not your place to fix it," Sam said. "You're not my mom as much as you try to act like it. You're my brother you don't gotta fix anything."
"I'm your brother," Dean said. "It's my job to fix everything."
"No, Dean," Sam sighed. "It's not. Your job is supposed to be to pick on me and make me eat gross things and embarrass me in front of my friends. You're not supposed to teach me to walk and tie my shoes and make sure I have enough to eat. You're not supposed to the only one that shows up to my games. You're not supposed to be the only one that cares that I did well on a test. You're supposed to be out doing high school things with your friends and not care about what the eighth grader is doing. You're not supposed to be keeping tabs on me. That's a parent's job. You aren't my parent."
"That's what you're so pissed off about?" Dean asked. "I'm not doing a good enough job?"
"No," Sam sighed. "You're fine. You're awesome, Dad's the problem. He just doesn't care. I want him care. Why is that so hard for him to understand? He doesn't even know I'm on the debate team. He doesn't know I'm on the honor roll. I'm not saying I want him to stick a bumper sticker on the car or nothing, but you know it wouldn't suck to get an 'Atta boy' and slap on the back from him once and a while."
"Okay," Dean nodded. "I get it. I'll have a talk with him."
Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. Dean didn't know how to please the kid. He just wanted everything to be calm and nice and he couldn't fix it without talking to his dad. Dean knew he was going to end up being the mediator for his brother and dad for a long time, another hat he'd have to wear that he shouldn't have to.
"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" John slurred as Dean put on his jacket on his way out the door. Olivia had called him and said to meet him out front.
"I'm hungry," Dean shrugged. "And since we were supposed to go out for my birthday, but didn't I'm going out with my friends."
"The friends I forbid you from hanging out with?"
"No," Dean shook his head. "The new friends I've never once mentioned." He rolled his eyes and walked out the door.
Olivia was waiting for him at the end of the driveway, Maggie was sitting shotgun so Dean hopped in the back and they took off. Both girls were up in short black sparkly dresses and heels. Maggie's auburn hair was done up in a stunning up do, Olivia's seemed to shine as it fell past her shoulders. Dean felt very under dressed compared to the girls.
"I… I… uh… I didn't know that this was a black tie affair," Dean said, leaning between the front seats.
"It's not," Olivia answered. "You look fine. Nobody's going to be looking at you."
"Oh, well then," Dean sat back.
"Tim wants us to crash at his apartment," Maggie said. "His roommate outta town, so he's gotta extra bedroom tonight."
"Good," Olivia smiled.
In the back, Dean smirked to himself. Maybe it would end up being a good birthday after all.
The club was packed with college kids and kids that Dean had seen wandering the halls of the high school. Dean wasn't big on dancing, or what passed at dancing in clubs, but he loved watching Olivia and Maggie out there having the time of their lives while Dean leaned against the wall or the bar. The girls got drunk pretty quickly off their bright blue whatever they were drinking. Dean sipped his beer slowly, he wasn't wasted, but he wasn't sober either.
Olivia pressed herself against Dean, trying to get him to come out on the dance floor.
"I want you to have fun," Olivia slurred into his ear. "Come have fun with me."
"I'm having fun right here," Dean replied. "I told you I don't dance."
"Come on," Olivia pleaded rubbing a hand down Dean's chest. "It'll be fun."
Dean finally gave in as Olivia stuck her tongue in his ear. He gave into the too loud crappy music pumped through the room while Olivia laughed. He ended up sandwiched between the two girls for a song or two, which he definitely wasn't complaining about.
When they left around one in the morning, Olivia pulled him to the spare bedroom in Tim's apartment. His room was covered with Green Day and Pearl Jam posters, it smelled like dirty socks and boy, a smell that Dean and Sam's room somehow never managed to acquire.
"I wanna give you your present," Olivia smiled as she started to unzip her dress.
"You already gave me the id," Dean said, as he kissed her.
"No," Olivia said. "I have something else."
She pulled him to the bed and started to play with Dean's shirt until he pulled it over his head. Olivia and Dean made out a lot but they never got very far. There was always someone else around, or they were in public. As much as Dean liked sex, he wasn't really into getting naked in a janitor's closet or in the middle of a public park. Maybe when he got the Impala he could work on his exhibitionism, but right now, he was into closed doors and beds.
"You know," Olivia said as she tried to take off her shoes with Dean pretty much on top of her. "I've never done it before."
"Really?" Dean smirked as he ran his hand over her breasts.
"Nope," Olivia grinned. "I used to think that high school boys were too immature, not worth my time, let alone my body, but you… I want you."
"I can't," Dean shook his head.
Olivia's hand wandered over his jeans, popping the button. "Oh, I think you can."
"No… I… uh… I don't have anything," Dean clarified.
"I'd hope not," Olivia giggled. "You're eighteen, how much sex could you have possibly had?"
"No, not like that," Dean corrected, Olivia looked up at him quizzically. "Well, yeah, like that, too, but since we don't… haven't, you know… done this, I didn't bring anything."
"It's okay," Olivia said into his ear. "Maggie said that you can't get pregnant the first time."
"You're, sure," Dean said pressing kisses along her breast bone.
"Yeah," Olivia assured him. "One hundred percent."
"Okay," Dean nodded.
"I love you," Olivia said as she got a hand into his pants.
He knew it was a bad idea, he'd heard countless times from his dad he was supposed to wrap it before sticking it in anything, but he couldn't pass this up. He didn't love Olivia, he liked her, enjoyed being around her, but he wasn't going to let that stop him.
In the morning, he met Sam for breakfast at the diner they were supposed to have dinner at the night before. It was the compromise they'd come to for Dean ditching the kid and the family tradition. He didn't like leaving Olivia, but he also didn't want to play "hold my hair while I puke" for lord knew how long while she got over her hangover.
"Sorry I ruined your birthday," Sam said as they waited for their pancakes to be delivered. "It's just… just Dad pisses me off so much, you know? And he has all these double standards and he wants me to be an adult but he keeps treating me like I'm a baby."
"Welcome to being a teenager," Dean chuckled. "But if you just do what he says and stay out of the way, eventually he'll get the hint and start treating you like you want to be treated. You gotta earn his respect; otherwise you'll always be a little kid to him."
"That's stupid," Sam sighed.
"You'll understand when you're parent," Dean nodded.
"You're not a parent," Sam rolled his eyes.
Dean shrugged as their waitress brought over their short stacks and bacon.
"The big deal with Dad, though," Dean said with his mouth full. "Is that you gotta think three steps ahead of him. You know that he doesn't give a shit about schoolwork; if he did he woulda left us at Bobby's a long time ago so we could get a real education. What he does care about is the job, family, and orders. Since he doesn't think you're old enough or big enough to do the job, he wants you to follow orders. And right now all he sees is a bratty kid that can't listen."
Sam shook his head as he dropped his fork onto the table, he went to speak but Dean stopped him.
"Just listen for a sec," Dean said, holding his hand up. "I get that you wanna do good in school. I expect you to do good in school. Dad wants you to do what he says. So just suck it up and do what he tells you do to. It really would have taken, what, five minutes to wash the dishes yesterday. He didn't care if they got put away or dried or nothing, he just wanted clean dishes. Your homework was gonna be there five minutes later. He wasn't asking you to run PT drills before you did your homework, he was asking for you to do chores."
"But he freaks out about everything,Dean," Sam sighed.
"He wants more from you," Dean answered. "He knows what you're capable of."
Dean watched his little brother eat his pancakes; he wanted nothing more than to take the obvious pain in the kid's eyes away. He knew how he felt, if anyone understood how Sam felt he did. He wanted to fix it, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Maybe if he talked to his dad about lightening up on the kid. It wasn't likely, but it was worth a shot. He didn't know how to get through to Sam. His brother was just as thick headed and stubborn as their dad, compromise wasn't something either did easily, but if the three of them were going to live under one roof, someone was going to have to cave.