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On with the show!
Dean woke up Sunday morning on the couch with the dreadful feeling something was wrong. The house was quiet because it was eight in the morning and everyone should still be asleep. He walked around downstairs and didn't notice anything out of place. He went upstairs, first checking in on Sam in case his big brother senses were tingling. They weren't; Sam was still knocked out and snoring quietly and clutching his death grip around Timmy the Turtle. Investigating the rest of the house, Dean couldn't find anything specific that seemed out of place.
And then it hit him.
Just in time to hear the car pull up in the driveway.
Dean ran to the top of the stairs and watched as John, who looked like he just woke up twenty minutes ago, attempted to sneak inside the house. Both their faces turned red; Dean with anger, John with embarrassment.
"I'm sorry," was all John could say.
"You're sorry!?" Dean screamed, not caring that Sam was still sleeping. "You promised you would come back!"
"I know, Dean-"
"So you just left me and Sam here alone!? What if something happened!?"
"I did and I swear I'm sorry-"
"Bullshit!" Dean said. Rarely did he swear in front of his parents.
"Dean!" John yelled. He knew he should say something about Dean's new vocab word but now was not the time.
"Damn it, Dean," John muttered to himself. He gestured over towards the couch. "Will you at least let me try to explain? Please?"
Dean crossed his arms and shifted his weight from one foot to the next. A clear sign he was not going anywhere. John sighed and ran his hand through his disheveled hair.
"Kate thinks Adam's coming down with a cold. He wouldn't go back to sleep. I ended up crashing on her couch."
"That's it? That's your explanation?"
John sighed. Dean couldn't be in this room anymore. John took a step towards his son and put his arm out, which Dean instantly smacked away.
"Just go back to your other family," he spat out, turning around and running back up the stairs.
John just watched him go. That was the second time in twelve hours that Dean had broken down in tears in front of him.
About an hour had passed.
Dean was on his bed, wearing his headphones, trying to distract himself from destroying everything in his bedroom. He was so hurt and angry and god was he sick of crying like a little bitch.
Once Dean had decided music wasn't working, he decided to take a shower. He didn't even bother washing his hair or anything. Just stood under the showerhead with his eyes closed as hot water rushed over him. He wasn't in there longer than ten minutes before getting bored and turning the water off. Dean threw open the shower curtain and gasped loudly, jumping at the sight of Sam standing in front of the sink with his toothbrush.
"Sorry!" Sam said, immediately throwing his hand over his eyes. "I was just brushing my teeth."
"It's fine," Dean said stepping out of the shower and grabbing his towel. "You just scared me."
"I can go in Mom and Dad's bathroom?" Sam offered. Dean cringed at the way he worded that. Mom and Dad's, as if Dad was still living here.
"I said it's fine. Besides, it's not like this is the first time walking in on me and seeing it right?" Dean said, trying to make a joke.
Sam turned back towards the sink. He soon realized his problem; he can't put toothpaste on his toothbrush with one hand and his eyes closed.
"Can I open my eyes yet?"
"Sure."
Sam slowly moved his hand, seeing Dean standing in his boxers drying his hair off. Sam shrugged and continued on with his mission to brush his teeth. He was trying to figure out if he should ask Dean about his fight with Dad, but he didn't want him to know that's what woke him up.
"What?" Dean asked, throwing the rest of his clothes on.
"Nothing," Sam mumbled, toothbrush still in his mouth.
"You got your thinking face on. What is it?"
Sam shrugged.
"Fine! Don't tell me!" Dean teased. He threw his towel over Sam's head as he walked out of the bathroom.
"Hey!" Sam cried out, throwing the wet towel on the floor. He spat his toothpaste out in the sink. "I'm not picking it up!"
Sam groaned overdramatically like he had been seeing Dean do lately, when he heard Dean slam his bedroom door shut. He knew Dean wasn't going to come back and clean up his mess. Sam made sure to clean up his toothpaste in the sink and then closing the shower curtain and hanging Dean's towel up to dry, like Mom always tells him to. Satisfied with his work, he went down the hall and knocked on Dean's door.
"What?" Dean asked from inside his room.
"Do you wanna play a game with me?" Sam asked, standing outside the closed door.
"No."
"Pleeaaase?"
"No Sam!"
Sam huffed and crossed his arms. Then an idea popped into his head: maybe his dad will play a game with him.
"Where's Dad?" he asked innocently.
"Dad left."
"Where'd he go?"
"I don't know."
"When will he be back?"
"I don't know!"
"Yes, you do!" Sam screamed, frustrated and annoyed at Dean. "I heard you two fighting this morning! Tell me!"
"You want me to tell you!?" Dean screamed back, throwing open the bedroom door and towering over Sam. "He left last night! Okay? Kate called him and he went to her house! He left us here by ourselves last night and when I called him out on it this morning, he didn't have a good answer. Now he's gone again and I'm willing to bet he's back at Kate's!"
"You're lying!" Sam said, starting to cry.
"Don't believe me?" Dean said, laughing at him. "Go call him! Ask him where he is! Cause the answer is not here!"
Sam ran away screaming and crying. Dean felt bad about how he handled the situation, but it bothered him how well Sam was handling everything, like Dad's affair was the best thing ever. Why should Sam always be happy and excited all the time anyway? He deserved to know how Dean really felt for once and he had it coming being the annoying baby he is.
Sam ran to the landline in the kitchen still screaming and sobbing loudly. He dialed one of the numbers on a post-it note taped to the fridge.
Amanda and Mary were soaking up the most amazing weekend ever. They had no trouble finding their werewolf and taking it out and were now driving down the highway, blasting music from their high school years, looking forward to going back to their normal lives on time for once.
They were about two hours away from Lawrence when Amanda's cell phone started to ring.
"It's your house," she announced, tossing the phone to Mary.
"Oh god, they probably burned it down or something," Mary joked.
"Please. If anyone sets that house on fire, it's you!" Amanda joked back. Mary laughed with her and answered.
"Hey! It's Mom!" she said cheerfully.
"When are you coming back?" a voice bawled into the phone. Mary immediately went into 'mom mode'.
"Sammy? Baby, what's wrong?"
"D-D-Dad l-l-left and- and Dean's m-mad at m-me!"
"What do you mean Dad left?"
"D-Dean said he w-went to K-Kate's."
Mary glanced over at Amanda and gave her a look. Amanda mouthed a 'what'.
"Sammy, listen to me. I need you to calm down, okay? It's all gonna be okay."
She heard Sam take a deep breath into the speaker of the phone.
"Where is Dean right now?" she asked, making sure to watch her tone so she doesn't upset him even more.
"His room," Sam said, still struggling to calm himself down and stop crying.
"Okay, can you go get him please?"
"But he's m-mad at m-me!"
"I promise, Sammy, Dean's not mad at you."
"Yes, he is!" Sam screamed into the phone.
"Did you do something to him?"
"No."
"Then why would he be mad at you?"
Sam sniffled a couple of times and took another deep breath into the speaker. Mary whispered all kinds of assuring things on the line until she knew that he was finally calm. She would have stayed on the phone with him until Amanda pulled up outside her house if she could. After a few minutes, she started talking again.
"Sam? I'll be home in a couple more hours. Then you and I can talk about it some more, okay?"
"No! Don't go!"
"I can't use up all of Amanda's minutes. I promise I'll be home before you know it."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
"Okay. Bye Mommy."
"Bye baby," Mary said, blowing a kiss into the speaker. She hung up the phone and handed it back to Amanda.
"What happened?" she asked.
"Drive faster," Mary demanded.
"Why?"
"I'm gonna kill him."
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