YALL I FUCKED UP

When I originally started this story, I had absolutely no idea where I was going with it or what year, specifically what time of year, I was writing around lol. So I changed some things.

Dean is still 14, but Sam is 9, meaning this is sometime between January and May in this story. So I changed those details. Dean is still in 8th grade and Sam is still in 4th grade. And Adam is still 3 and still in preschool. Those are pretty much the only things I changed. Just wanted to make that clear lol.

Kathy- Rumors spread like wildfire through this school... Thanks for the luck on my finals! I definitely need it lol

Long Live BRUCAS- So far, so good. And I totally agree about Dean.

On with the show!

"Dean," John said, knocking on the bedroom door. "It's eleven."

No answer.

John opened the door. He found Dean laying on the top bunk staring out the window on the other side of the room.

John sighed. "When I said you could stay here, I didn't mean you could stay in bed sleeping all day."

"I'm not sleeping," Dean mumbled.

"Come on," John said, patting Dean's shoulder. "Mom's dropping off Sam soon."

John left the bedroom. Dean groaned and sat up in bed. After his parents announced their divorce, Dean pleaded to go home with John. He just knew his mom was the one responsible for the divorce. He wasn't mad at her, but he was less upset with his dad. And of course, John and Mary agreed that they would do whatever they could to make the situation less difficult for the boys.

Dean climbed down the ladder on the bunk beds and opened up his suitcase. He threw on a pair of jeans and changed his shirt and walked out to the living room where John was folding towels. Dean wasn't sure why, but he was caught off guard at the scene.

"Put these away," John said, handing him a stack of towels. Dean calmly took them, went into the bathroom, and threw them in the storage cabinet. He went back out to the living room where John was now tidying up the kitchen area.

"I want you to strip your sheets and clean up that room, okay?"

Dean nodded.

"Dean."

"Yes sir."

John sighed again. "I really need you to help out today."

"Why are you flipping out? It's just Mom and Sam."

"I want you and Sam to treat this place like the house. I want you two to feel at home here. And more importantly, I want your mother to know that nothing is going to change and I won't become the laidback, lazy parent."

"But... you're not."

John sighed for the third time that day. "Go clean the room please."

Dean walked back into the small bedroom. He started gathering his dirty clothes and threw his suitcase in the closet so it was out of sight. Then he climbed up on the top bunk and stripped the sheets off his bed and threw them in a pile in the corner. He grabbed the extra sets of sheets and made his bed on top and Sam's bed on the bottom.

"Here," John said, bringing the laundry basket into the room. Dean threw the dirty sheets and his clothes in.

"What now?"

"Now I show you where to take them."

John picked up the basket and took Dean down the apartment complex hallway to the laundry room on their floor. Dean shoved his hands in his pockets, embarrassed that someone would walk in and find him here doing laundry with his dad.

"You put the stuff in the machine... You throw some soap in... Push the buttons... And insert the quarters... And voila."

Dean rolled his eyes as his dad explained each step to him like he was five years old.

"Then what?" he asked to humor his dad.

"We come back down in an hour and put it in the dryer."

Dean groaned and walked back up to the apartment. The two finished tidying up and Mary brought Sam by around noon.

"Daddy!" Sam screamed, running from the hallway into the apartment.

"Where's the fire?" John teased.

"I missed you!" Sam said, wrapping his small body around John's legs.

"What are you talking about? I took you to school yesterday."

"Yes but that was yesterday!" Sam said dramatically.

"Go find your brother."

Sam picked up his overnight bag and ran towards the bedroom.

"How has he been?" John asked Mary.

"He's been good. How's Dean?"

John hesitated. "It's Dean."

At this point, they heard fighting coming from the bedroom and both immediately went to go investigate.

"But I want the top!" Sam screamed.

"Too bad! Dad said you're not allowed!" Dean screamed back.

Sam turned around towards his dad. His face was red. "Why does Dean get the top?"

"Because Dean doesn't still get up in the middle of the night," John answered simply.

Dean snorted. "Tiny tank."

"I do not have a tiny tank!" Sam screamed again, hitting Dean with his bag.

"The fact that you knew what I was talking about proves my point."

"I think the bottom bunk is cool Sammy," Mary said, hoping to break up the fight. "Look. You can hang your blanket up right here and make a little fort."

"Yeah?" Sam said, sniffling.

"Yup! Anytime you want to hide from Dean, you just hang your blanket up."

"Okay," Sam said quietly, feeling embarrassed for his tantrum. He wiped his face, picked up his blanket, and stood on his tiptoes to try to hang it. Feeling bad for his brother getting upset, Dean walked over and took the blanket from Sam and hung it up for him by tucking the edge under his mattress and letting the blanket hang down the front side of the bed.

"Really John?" Mary whispered. "Bunk beds?"

"You think you could fit two beds in here?" John retorted.

"Okay boys, time for me to go. I'm sure Dad has lots of fun things planned."

"Bye Mom!" Sam said, now happily sitting in his blanket fort.

"Do I get a bye too?" Mary asked Dean. Dean reluctantly walked over to his mom and gave her a hug.

"I'll see you Monday at school, okay?" she asked quietly.

"Okay."

She kissed the top of his head and John walked her out of the apartment.

That first night was weird. It was their first official night away at their dad's. Even though Dean had been crashing here for the past couple days, something about seeing his mom drop off Sam earlier messed with something inside him. He kept trying to convince himself that this was their new normal, but it still didn't seem real.

Between his thoughts, Sam's stupid nightlight, and Sam tossing and turning in his sleep and shaking the beds, Dean was sure he'd never fall asleep.

At some point, Dean heard the ruffling of blankets and Sam's feet running of the room down the hall, closing the bathroom door behind him. Dean couldn't help but smirk at the joke he made earlier. He rolled over on his other side and prayed that he could finally fall asleep in the time it took Sam to pee.

Dean was just about to slip into unconsciousness when he heard the toilet flush through the wall and Sam came running back into the room.

"Dean?" Sam called, trying his best to whisper. "Are you awake?"

"No."

"I had a bad dream."

"Yeah?"

"A monster broke into our house and set it on fire and killed Mom."

"It was just a dream, Sam," Dean said nonchalantly. "Go back to sleep."

Sam pouted. He reached under the blanket for his stuffed turtle and cuddled it close to his chest. He could feel the tears forming in his eyes and his lips started trembling. Careful not to wake his brother, he started to cry quietly into his pillow.

Unfortunately, it wasn't quiet enough.

"Sam?" Dean called, hearing the soft whimpers and sniffling. He leaned over the edge of the bed and found Sam curled in a ball against the corner near the wall. He looked so little. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want Mommy to die!"

Dean immediately crawled to the other side of the bed, reached down, and turned the bedroom light on. He climbed down the ladder and sat on Sam's bed.

"Nothing's going to happen to Mom, Sam."

"But... I'm scared!"

"Of what?"

"W-w-what if something happens and w-w-we're not there!?"

"Like what?"

Sam tried to take a deep breath. "I don't know!"

"What's going on?" a half-awake John asked, coming into the bedroom. He had heard Sam in the bathroom and the next thing he knew, their bedroom light was on.

"Sam had a bad dream," Dean explained.

"Come here bud," John said. Sam lept out of bed and John picked him up. "I got him Dean. You can go back to sleep."

Dean didn't know what to do. As much as he wanted to go back to sleep, part of him wanted to make sure Sam was okay.

John carried Sam out to the living room and sat them both on the couch.

"What's going on bud?"

"I-I want M-Mommy!" Sam wailed.

"Mommy's at the house, remember?" John reminded him calmly.

"Yeah... But... She... But..." Sam struggled to remember his nightmare as his brain had already forgotten all about it. Now he was just a kid crying to his dad for no reason in the middle of the night.

"Tell you what. How about we call Mom and you can talk to her for a little bit and then we'll go back to sleep, okay?"

Sam nodded into John's chest. John reached over to the coffee table and grabbed his cell phone.

New normal indeed.

someones-big-sister