This chapter is quite a bit shorter than I usually like to put up. But seeing as I haven't been able to post anything at all, I decided this was better than nothing and hopefully will push me a little to get writing again. Life has been difficult lately and even finding a few minutes a day was impossible.

As always, I love to hear what you think, and what you think should happen next.

Dean winced as he noticed his nail bed bleeding, he'd anxiously chewed down his nails till his fingers hurt and then some. The door unlocked with a loud click, Dean looked up and slowly got to his feet as the door opened and his dad came in. John purposely walked over to his son, and without a word grabbed his arm, spun him sideways, and landed a hard smack launching Dean to his tiptoes.

It was only one smack but Dean swore his dad's hand was as hard as a paddle, he found himself facing his father, the man's large hands on his shoulders and tried his best not to let the water filling his eyes spill out.

"You ever say 'no' to me again like that and the belt comes off, you hear me?"

Dean nodded, not trusting his voice, but John waited till he heard a soft "yes, sir" barely a whisper.

John grunted approval and began to head back to the door, Dean hastily wiped his eyes.
"Oh, one last thing. Sam's headed out on a job, if you want to say goodbye you should go find him, he's just about ready to leave," with that, John headed out.

The tears that hadn't been properly wiped away fell quickly now. Dean sprinted to Sam's room where sure enough he found his brother zipping up his duffle. The angry red handprint still covered the side of Sam's face, he looked up as his brother entered his room and his heart broke a little at the sight of Dean's stricken tear-covered face.

Two large steps later Sam had crossed the room and pulled Dean into a tight hug.

"You can't leave me with dad, Sammy, you can't," Dean sniffled.

"What choice do I have?"
Dean knew there really wasn't another choice, if he tried to go along Dad would follow them, tan both their backsides and then send Sam off for an even longer hunt.

"I have to go," Sam said reluctantly, hefting the bag onto his shoulder, Dean nodded and watched Sam head towards the door, "Don't touch my stuff," Sam added, bringing a smirk to Dean's face.

/

"Dean! Up and at'em," the lights in Dean's room flicked on.

Dean groaned and rolled over. He barely was able to open his eyes as he glanced at his clock, the glowing green numbers said 5:00 AM.

"Whatsgoingon?" he mumbled.

"I didn't think you'd been keeping up with the training routine. Up, you have a 5K run to do, then pushups and sit-ups. Better get moving or you won't get it done before the bus," John said matter of factly and left the room.

Dean groaned. Dad hadn't enforced the training since Sam graduated high school. Sam still had his own routine that he did, for some weird reason Sam LIKED to run. Dean had only done it when he was younger because Dad told him to, as soon as he could he stopped.

Rubbing his eyes, Dean slowly got up and pulled on some workout attire, this wasn't going to go well. He was out of shape and felt ready to drop by the time he was done with the run. Dad waited at the bunker door looking at his watch with a frown.

"Took you long enough," Dad grumbled, "you're out of shape. Better hurry and finish the rest then get ready for school."

"Yes, sir," Dean huffed out and headed to the kitchen to gulp down some water.

It was no real surprise to Dean when his arms gave out three-quarters of the way through the 100 push-ups John wanted although he managed the sit-ups without too much of an issue. He took a shower and grabbed a packet of pop tarts as he headed for the bus hoping he didn't miss it. He was not in a mood to walk to school since he knew John wouldn't bother driving him.

Nothing ever went well for Dean and he managed to get to the bus stop as he saw the bus turning around the corner and out of sight.

The first period was half over before Dean managed to get to school. He slid into his seat next to Kevin.
"You ok? You look half-dead," Kevin wanted to know.

"Imfine," Dean said, still tired and exhausted, his stomach grumbled loudly, it was used to Mrs. Butters making him a hearty breakfast each morning and the pop tarts just weren't cutting it.

By the time Dean stumbled back into the bunker after school, he was hungry, tired, and had no energy for anything. Dad had gone off somewhere, probably the local bar, and there wasn't much food left in the house. Dean settled for some Easy Mac and a hot pocket, anything to fill his stomach. He didn't have the energy to do some real cooking, even if the food was available (it wasn't), he thought about pulling out his homework but was too tired to deal with the frustration of figuring it out without Sam to help him. He curled up on his bed and dozed off to the TV marathon of Dr. Sexy, it had been a very long time since he felt this lonely.

/

Sam and Mrs. Butters had had Dean on a fairly strict schedule where Sam would wake him up after his morning workout, Mrs. Butters would provide a hearty breakfast that kept Dean full until lunch where her bagged lunches were the envy of his lunch table. Once he was home Sam had him do some training before they sat down together to work on homework until dinner time. Then forced Dean to observe a 10 pm bedtime on school nights.

Without them managing him Dean floundered. John wasn't usually around in the evenings so Dean would eat whatever instant food was available and play video games till he passed out. John however was good for one thing, waking Dean up at 5 am for his training regime before sending an exhausted Dean to school. The week quickly became a blur for Dean. At school, he was either too tired or too hungry to focus on the classes. He wasn't as good at avoiding Al and his gang and more than once was cornered and reminded of who exactly was in charge at the school.

The highlight of Dean's week was discovering the loft backstage in the auditorium that had a full-size couch. He found himself sneaking into the dark auditorium and taking a nap for a few hours several times a week.

For his part Sam had tried calling almost every night, Dean usually answered and lied about everything with practiced ease.

"It's been fine, Sammy, Dad's been decent."

"Yeah, I just stayed after for extra help in math."

"No, I haven't been staying up till 2 am"

After two weeks Sam broke the news that he wouldn't be back right away, Dad had sent him on another hunt, this time in some little town in Washington. Dean said he understood, saving people and hunting monsters came first, he was perfectly fine. He also drank half a bottle of whiskey that night.