See! I promised I would post again on Friday and here I am! Way to go me.

This and the next several chapters are shorter but they're all over 1k then it picks up. I don't want to connect them because they have different vibes and work better as separate chapters. Does that make sense? Hopefully lol.

Currently working on chapter 7 so we got ways to go but also if I don't post next week it's because I'm dead not because I'm procrastinating.

OH! And I changed the date from October to September. I think it still works and now I don't have to worry about Thanksgiving interfering lol.

Anyway!

Now that that rambles over, please enjoy Dean struggling!

~TH~

Dean didn't know what to do. His card was maxed and he was low on cash. It'd been three days and his phone had remained quiet. Nothing from Dad, nothing from Sam, not even a word from Caleb. Dean thought he had a pretty good idea of what happened. John had gotten to the hunter first. Had probably given him an ultimatum. But Damian's place was the next Knight of the Brotherhood. If Caleb had been asked to choose between his friendship with Dean and his position as a Knight, staying with John would have been the only correct answer.

But that left him unsure of what to do. He'd stayed close, hoping that his dad would wake up from his hangover and regret his decision. It was a long shot but he didn't have much else to hang on to. Nothing had happened.

Now came the real dilemma. Did Dean turn to the Brotherhood? Beg them for shelter from the Knight? Did he leave and start his own life? Get a job and live life as a civilian or weekend hunter? Or did he just… stop. Acknowledge that he had nothing without his family and let the cleaning lady find his body in the morning.

It wasn't that he didn't know how to take care of himself. He'd been doing it since he was four. But he just… didn't care right now. Before it had been easy because he knew that he had to take care of Sammy. He knew that he was being depended on. But right now? Right now the idea of getting up off the flea infested mattress seemed like more work than it was worth.

Sighing, he managed to roll off of the bed. He squeezed his eyes shut against the pounding headache that had been a constant the last couple of days.

Fine. He'd check out of the motel and go spend his last few dollars at a crappy bar then find a nice bridge to live under - die under? - same difference. When he walked out of the room, bag in hand, he left his cell phone sitting on the nightstand. He was past hoping. The phone was useless to him. Just like he was to his family.

~SPN~

The beer was cheap and the building warm. That was all Dean really cared about at the moment. They didn't even check his ID and he was glad because he hadn't actually looked to make sure he had his fake one.

The bartender, a man probably in his fifties- maybe a young sixty, eyed the boy. "Your old man do that to ya?"

Dean wasn't exactly sure how many times his dad had hit him. What he did know was that he was sporting a fat lip, an ugly looking black eye that had bruising inching towards his ear, and he found himself lucky that his nose was just sore, not broken. And after a few days, the bruising would be at its peak.

"Just bring me another beer." Dean muttered in response. That would likely be just as much of an answer, but he didn't feel like having that conversation right now. He also didn't feel like defending his father. That left avoidance his only option.

The bartender slid him the beer. "You got a place to stay tonight?" Didn't this guy see that he just wanted to be left alone?

"Yeah," he mumbled.

The older man hummed, "The bridge on Eastside or Westside."

Dean looked up at the man, trying to keep his stoic mask in place.

The bartender laughed, "You're not the first kid to come in to forget about his problems. It's cold out. Even for September."

Dean shrugged, "I can take care of myself." If he said it enough times maybe his brain would get the picture and find the motivation to do something other than resign himself to an unpleasant and undignified death. Sure wasn't a blaze of glory like he'd always thought. More like a… freeze of disgrace.

"You know I run a center for kids without a place to go. You're more than welcome to stay there until you find your footing."

Dean's mind flashed back to the months he spent at Sonny's. "Yeah, sorry, but that's not really my type of thing. I don't need charity."

"Well it's not really charity, it's more of a- well a group of people who look out for each other despite their unfortunate circumstances. A family."

The younger man snorted, "Family? More like a cult."

"If you wish." The man inclined his head slightly, "But I wouldn't write off any place offering a warm bed and free food. Especially not when it's thirty degrees and you don't even appear to have a coat."

"Yeah," Dean reached into his pocket, ready to get away from the well meaning older gentleman. "I think I'm good. Thanks for the offer though." He was about to lay his last few bills on the table when the man lifted his hand.

"Keep your money. I have a feeling you're going to need it."

Dean nodded his thanks, placing the bills back into his wallet.

"And son, I know you say you aren't interested, but if you change your mind, We're in the large brick building two blocks down." He handed him a small card with an address, "You'll know it when you see it. If I don't answer the door, just ask for me, Mr. Whiteman."

The younger man stood, shoving his wallet along with the card into his back pocket, he studied the man in front of him. He looked sincere enough. And somehow the man reminded him of Jim. "Dean." He said in answer.

Whiteman smiled, "Well Dean, if you reconsider, you know where to find us. Stay warm."

"Yeah, yeah thanks."

He walked out of the bar feeling less sure of his plan to just stop fighting. Maybe… but no. If he didn't have his family, his real family, then there was no reason to keep fighting at all.

~TH~

Reviews:

EmilyAnnMcGarrett-Winchester: Ugh! Dean's just so broken and needs such a hug! I'm not very happy with either of them rn myself...

SPN Fan: ...I know you probably won't read this but like... I gave THREE warnings about it being very anti-John. And considering after Flagstaff John literally did attack Dean and might have killed him not for interference I don't think its *that* ooc. Especially since I made it very clear that John was very drunk. And also... like I do appreciate reads and comments but I'm not sure what the point of telling me that you didn't like it and wouldn't continue reading it was? Like Ok? Sorry to disappoint, I guess? But like... why did I need to know that you hated it? No hate to you and I appreciate you reading and commenting on my other stuff, but it was definitely an annoying and discouraging comment to receive.

Kathy: Thank you! You should be seeing an update every Friday for awhile :)

Guest: You're so sweet! And I know! Poor bebe Dean *sobs*

Andra B.: Hope this didn't disappoint!

Roscava Sliena Natasha: Thank you! You're definitely gonna see some whump and some awesome Caleb! But since this is a long one it won't be immediate like with most of my one-shots. Tbh idk how I'm going to write Sam the rest of the time... We'll see...

Poor Dean. He's more than capable of taking care of himself. But sometimes that darned mental health gets in the way.

Really, I'm in no way saying "Dean at 20 is incapable of taking care of himself he needs John". no. If Dean left on his own time and of his own will, it would be rough at first, but I think he would be fine. Really he did it for years with Sam.

He just... doesn't care right now. He doesn't see the purpose in taking care of himself.

So what do you think of Whiteman? Good guy? Bad guy? Neutral guy?

And don't worry, there is a very good reason that Caleb hasn't been answering and we'll get a whole chapter from his POV on Friday.

Please tell me your thoughts! Very interested to see what you guys think... even if not MUCH plot is out yet.

Much love and God bless,

Jamie