Chapter 2: Some nights I stay up cashing in my bad luck
The sun was shining through the blinds of Dean's window, casting beams of light over his sleeping face. Laying on his stomach, and legs twisted in his sheets, Dean blinked his eyes groggily as the birds chirped abnormally loud outside his window. The light was too bright for his eyes, as he heard his blood pounding through his ears as his raging headache from the night before made itself known.
Closing his eyes again, he slowly lifted himself off the bed; the alcohol from the night before still sloshing around in his stomach. Groaning, he rubbed his face with the palm of a hand as he sat up at the edge of his bed, trying not to move to quickly, allowing his stomach time to calm down enough before moving without the need to retch. Running a hand through his short blonde hair, he lifted his eye lids slightly, just enough to clearly peek through his eye lashes, but not enough to allow the sun light access to blind him.
Looking down, he noticed that he was partially undressed. His shoes from the day before was haphazardly piled against the wall, and his jacket and plaid over-shirt was thrown over a chair, almost as if someone else attempted to undress him and then gave up.
His eyes found their way to his nightstand. The alarm clock read two twenty seven in big digital flashing red lights. There was a glass of water and some aspirin next to it. It all made sense now. The clothes somewhat neat around his room, the water, and the medicine. Sammy, he thought, a small smile on his face as he grabbed the water and popped the pain killers in his mouth before lifting himself off the bed completely.
Stumbling slightly, Dean made his way out of his room and towards the bathroom. Palms flat against the sink, he leaned forward and looked up at his reflection in the mirror. His pupils were still slightly dilated from just waking up. His face was just one shade too pale as he tried to hold back the nauseous feeling in his stomach. There was something dried up at the corner of his mouth, as if he threw up and didn't wipe his face fully after wards. Taking a moment to test the taste on his tongue, he determined that, yes, he did throw up the night before, but there wasn't any tell tale signs of doing so in the bathroom. Maybe I threw up on the way home?
His hair was a mess. Even without using hair gel and styling products, as everyone swears he does, his hair was short enough that it usually stuck up spiky. Sleep usually causes the natural spikes to stick out and lay flat at random places where his head would rub against his pillow. Now, however, his hair looked completely unrecognizable, as if someone repeatedly ran their fingers through it at spots and grabbed at others the night before, intently set on ruining the natural spikes.
He made his way back to his bedroom, stopping once as his surprisingly shaky legs lost balance causing him to lean his body against the wall. Finally making it back to his room, he rummaged through his drawers, searching for some old clothes to wear. After pulling out a loose fitting pair of holey, grease stained jeans and a white sleeveless shirt, he made his way to the bathroom again, towel draped over his shoulder. After turning the shower onto a slightly hotter than normal temperature, he got undressed and stepped under the water. The steaming heat immediately relaxed his tensed muscles.
Try as he might, he couldn't remember the events of the previous night. Usually he would pass out on the couch at which ever house the party took place at until early morning when he would have to either drive home or walk. The last thing he could recall of the night before was sitting on the couch, drinking the half filled bottle of Jack Daniels.
All the thinking was making his still pounding headache worst, so he gave up and starting washing his hair. It was only when he started washing his body that he noticed his chest had something clear and crusted on it, but he didn't put much thought to it. Maybe someone spilled something.
He got out, got dressed, and made his way downstairs. The shower, thankfully, sobered him up and relaxed his body enough so that he didn't have to lean against the railing on his way down.
When he walked into the half kitchen-half dining room, he wasn't surprised to see Sam sitting at the table with a book opened in one hand and a pencil in another, working on his summer reading packet. Pulling out a bowl, a box of cereal, and the milk, Dean proceeded to make himself something to eat.
Without looking up, Sam said, "you seem like you had fun last night."
Dean grunted in response. He tried, he really did, but he couldn't remember.
"So..." Dean began to say, "thanks for, you know, the water and stuff." Really, Dean?Thanks for the water and stuff?
"You're welcome. You were pretty out of it when you came in."
He groaned. Sitting down across from Sam, he began eating. "So, what happened when I got home?"
"Well... I came down for a glass of water around two. You didn't even make it to the couch. You were slumped on the floor, against the wall, near the door. I helped you up the stairs and undressed you a little before throwing your ass on the bed," he said the last part with a famous bitchface in place. "Then I came back down and grabbed us each some water and some aspirin for you. By the time I got back to your room, you were already passed out snoring."
"I don't snore, bitch!"
"Sure you don't, jerk." He wrote something down in a box before speaking again. "Anyway, you're lucky dad was in his room," he said, before turning back to the book, which Dean noticed was The Outsiders. Good book, he thought before lazily shoving another spoon of cheerios in his mouth.
Dean groaned yet again. "Where is dad now?"
Without looking up and writing something else down, "he went down to Uncle Bobby's around ten. Told him you were still passed out," he replied. "He doesn't know you came home drunk," he said quickly before Dean could ask.
Heaving a sigh of relief, Dean finished his cereal and got up to clean his mess. He headed back upstairs and grabbed his jacket. He came back down and went to the front door. "I'm heading to Bobby's," he threw over his shoulder before walking outside into the hot July air, not waiting to hear his brothers response.
The drive in the Impala to Bobby's garage was quick, with the windows rolled down and the music up. As he rolled into the driveway, AC/DC's Highway to Hell was just finishing up.
Dean made his way behind the building where he knew his father and Bobby would be, either under the hood of a car or taking a break and drinking a beer. The smell of car oil and sounds of a wrench met his ears as he rounded the last corner and saw the two fathers in his life, one his birth father and the other who he considered his real father.
John's head looked up as Dean rounded the corner. Bobby walked out of the tiny office and gave Dean a half hug around his shoulders. "Hey, Dean. What are you doing here?" Bobby asked. "You're not schedule until tomorrow afternoon."
"Just thought I'd come by and see if you needed any help," Dean replied. In all honesty, Dean wanted to spend as much time at the garage as he could before he left next summer for basic. Once school starts up he'll only be able to come around during the weekend, since football practice would last too long after school to get any hours during the week.
"Sure. Help your pops with the corvettes' tune up. The quicker it gets done the faster we can all get out of here to clean up before Ellen's tonight. You know how much she hates us being greasy when we go to her house." Bobby said.
Something in the back of Dean's head tickled at the mention of Ellen's tonight. He faintly remembered Jo, or was it Sam, who said that Ellen was having a big dinner. All Dean paid attention to was the fact of free food, even if it meant having to help with the dishes. "Uh, what was the dinner for again?" Dean asked.
His father was the one who spoke up from the corvette. "We're meeting her step sister's kid tonight," he replied.
Dean shrugged. Ok, whatever, he thought as he grabbed the least greasy work rag and stuffed it in his pocket. He then proceeded to help his dad under the hood of the car.
An hour and a half later, the car's hood slammed shut as John and Dean wiped their hands off with rags. John finished his beer before telling Dean and Bobby that he'll see them later and headed home to wash up. Dean stayed behind a little longer, checking and double checking his schedule, making any changes with Bobby, before he too headed home.
John and Sam was just getting into John's truck when Dean pulled up. Dean waved them off with the promise that he'll be there soon. Another quick shower later, and Dean was heading out the door and to his Impala, making sure to lock everything up, and drove the short distance to Ellen's house.
As he pulled up, he noticed a few suitcases on the porch near the front door. Jo and Sam were walking through the door just as Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody started blasting from the stereo and through the open windows of the Impala. Before Dean could turn the ignition off, he heard Jo's voice loud and clear across the yard.
"Dean Winchester! Don't you dare turn that car off when the best song in music history is starting to play! You restart this song right now!"
Laughing, Sam and Jo made their way to the car as Dean got out, and all three of them started singing, rather horribly in Dean's opinion. He didn't notice the red headed girl or the light browned hair man that exited the house and joined them. Each of the five singing their own parts, somehow knowing which part was theirs. He didn't realize they had company until a deep gravely voice sung, "So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye? So you think you can love me and leave me to die? Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby. Just gotta get out, just gotta get right otta here." He was lost in the sound of that voice singing, feeling the pain behind the words, as if this specific verse of the song was meant for him. Lost, because something tickled in the back of his mind, telling him he's heard that voice before. But the song wasn't over, and he sang along with the rest of the group, forgetting about the deep voice and the verse it was meant to sing.
As the song came to an end, Dean finally took notice of everyone in their small group. Little Sammy, to his left, wearing a short sleeved button up shirt and dark, almost dressy, jeans. He never wore anything less than dressy when going to Ellens', dressing like a tiny gentleman. Then there was Jo, dressed much more casual seeing as she lived here. Yellow tank and light blue jean shorts. Long blonde hair pulled into a loose bun to keep it out of her way while carrying stuff into the house.
The new arrivals to the group, the people he didn't know, had him curious. The red head was just a few inches taller than Jo. Her hair was also pulled up and back. Dressed similarly to Jo, she wore a pink tank and darker gym shorts. The man next to her had long, light red-brown hair, somewhere half way in length between Dean and Sam's (Sam insisted on almost never cutting his hair. It was almost touching his shoulders now). He wore a loose dark blue shirt that had a 'My Little Pony' on it, and jeans, lollipop stuffed unceremoniously in his mouth. Finally, Dean's eyes focused on the last of the group, the one who had the deep, almost familiar voice.
What he saw made his heart stop. Literally, he couldn't feel his heartbeat. He's fairly certain he stopped breathing as well. For what he saw was the bluest eyes he'd thought he's never see again.
A sharp intake of breath passed through his lips, as all the memories he couldn't recall from last night played on replay, as if he was watching a movie in his mind's eye for just him to see. Opening the door and having a body fall on him. Laughter. Kissing. Hands everywhere. Soft, smooth hair. Hungry, yet not alcohol induced kisses. Skin. Pale skin on a toned body, sitting on a sink in a locked bathroom. The feel of his dick inside another man's ass. The pool of arousal in his gut. The best release he has ever had after partaking in the most exhilarating sex he's ever experienced.
Then the horrible realization as he watched the memory of himself dress and leave, trying not to notice the concern and hurt. Trying not to notice the tears. He watched himself walk home. Throwing up on the side of the road. Somehow managing to fit the key in the lock of the front door.
And then he was back to reality. The blue eyes he looked into last night no longer held any warmth. Now they were full of pain and rage. The jaw set tight to prevent himself from lashing out at the man who fucked him and left. Dean couldn't tear his eyes away from the blue ones. It didn't matter what he was wearing. All that matter was that Dean knew who this was, and Dean knew every hateful thought passing through those eyes was directed at him, and he deserved everyone of them.
Jo's voice cut through his attention as she starting introducing everyone. "This is Anna, Gabriel, and Castiel. They're my mom's step sisters' kids. Gabriel is starting his second year of college next month, Anna is starting her first. Castiel is going to be a senior with you this year, Dean. He's moving in with my mom and me. Apparently Aunt Lilith and Uncle Alistair wants a year off early and talked my mom into letting him move in."
"Anna, Gabriel, and Castiel, this is Sam and Dean Winchester." Sam shook the three proffered hands, smiles on all four of their faces, including Castiels', though his was tight lipped. Dean shook Anna and Gabriels' hands, smiles still in place. When he got to Castiels', though, the smile was replaced with hatred again, and Dean didn't understand why he felt a little bit of himself die at the glare. None of the others noticed the exchange while Jo continued talking. "I've known Sam and Dean my whole life. Our parents were friends in high school. Sammy here," Sam cut her off with a, 'it's Sam!' "is going into eighth grade. He's a sweet little teddy bear, no matter how tough he tries to act. Dean, though," she pointed her thumb towards Dean, which earned her a scowl in return, "is a whole different piece of work."
"I'm sure," Castiel mumbled, just loud enough for Dean to hear.
Ellen's voice called out from inside, and the five of them headed in (after Dean turned the Impala off). Dean and Gabriel grabbed the last two suitcases left on the porch in passing (which earned Dean another scowl from Castiel).
Once through the door, Castiel turned around and snatched the suitcase out of Dean's hand with a, "I can do it myself. I don't need help from you." And yeah, Dean thought, no knew, he deserved it. He didn't say anything, he just let Gabriel and Castiel take the suitcases where they had to go, while making his way into Ellen's living room.
Gabriel and Castiel didn't come back down after that. When dinner was almost finished, Ellen walked into the living room with her apron on, flour and other stuff caked onto her clothes and hair. "Boys," She said in greeting, nodding her head towards the group. Anna and Jo were helping Ellen in the kitchen, so it was Bobby, John, Sam, and Dean sitting around the living room. Bobby had a half finished beer while John was working on his third, cheeks already getting rosy from the alcohol. "Dinner is almost ready. Sam, can you set the table. Dean, do me a favor and go get Gabriel and Castiel from upstairs. They're in your guest bedroom." Dean started groaning. Of course Cas would be moving into his room. "And don't give me lip. It's not your room, it's a guest bedroom. Now go."
They both said a quick 'yes ma'am' before Sam got busy in the dining room, setting the tables like the good boy he was. Dean, on the other hand, really didn't want to have to talk to Cas at all. How are you supposed to fake cheerfulness towards the guy you fucked then abandon?
A lot faster than Dean wished, he found himself up the stairs and in front of the door of the bedroom. He could faintly hear voices through it, loud enough to tell they were arguing, but quiet enough that you couldn't make out the words. Dean took a second longer than necessary before knocking once on the wood. The voices stopped.
The door flew opened and Dean got a face full of blue glaring at him. Great! He thought to himself. It had to be Cas who answered.
"What do you want?" Cas growled out. The urge to roll his eyes was too great and before he could stop himself he did just that. Cas only glared harder at him.
"Ellen says dinner is ready and told me to come get you. Believe me, if I had a choice, I would rather be setting the table. But, when Ellen tells you to do something, you do it."
It was Cas' turn to roll his eyes. Dean saw Gabriel get off the bed, lollipop still in his mouth as Cas shoved Dean aside, making his way down the stairs.
Gabriel shook his head as he said, "Man, he really doesn't like you."
They made their way down the stairs and into the dining room. Everyone was already seated by the time they got there, with the exception of Dean and Gabriel, since they just got there, and Ellen and Sam, who was helping Ellen bring the food out. Gabriel sat in the seat available next to Cas as the last of the food was placed on the table. Ellen made a feast, worthy of Christmas dinner. She had everything you could think of. From chicken to roast beef, to mashed potatoes and gravy, and corn and peas. On each end of the table were baskets full of bread. "Smells great, Aunt Ellen," Dean said after taking it all in. By that time, though, there was only one seat available, the one next to Sam and directly across from Cas. Shit! Dean cursed at himself as he realized it's his fault for not sitting before Sam. He sat down, deliberately looking anywhere but at Cas.
"Castiel," Ellen said. Cas' head snapped to her face. "Why don't you say grace for everyone?" she asked.
He took a deep breath before beginning. "I'm not really that big of a fan of praying..." he said, adding on, "Aunt Ellen," at the last second.
"Neither are we, to be honest. However," she paused, "when we have a big dinner like this, we all take turns saying grace. It doesn't have to be long," she added. And it really didn't. When ever it was John's or Bobby's turn to say it, that is literally all they said.
Taking another deep breath, Cas closed his eyes as everyone clasped hands and waited. When Castiel started speaking in his gravely voice, Dean couldn't stop the butterflies in his stomach. Seriously, he thought. Am I suddenly turning into Samantha or something?
"Bless this food, Lord," he began, "for we are truly grateful for what we have. Let our days to come be as beneficial as today has. Let us find happiness in ourselves and each other, and forgive those who deserve to be forgiven. Amen." Dean heard the stress on those words. He knew they were aimed at him. Which is why while everyone else sounded in a chorus of 'amens' before opening their eyes, he found Cas' blue ones staring into his. With a quiet 'amen' of his own, Dean tore his eyes away from Cas' and begin gathering food on his plate. No one else seemed to have noticed the interaction between the two seventeen year olds.
Dinner went by relatively fast. Everyone asked Anna, Gabriel, and Castiel questions, and vice versa. When everyone finished dinner, Anna and Jo helped Ellen clean up, and then they brought out pumpkin and apple pies for dessert, much to Dean's delight. "Aunt Ellen, you are simply the most wonderful human ever." This caused several pairs of eyes to roll, but he didn't care. He had pie. What more could he want?
Nobody moved once the pies were eaten. Everyone too stuffed to do more than lift their forks or push their plates away. Small talk began again soon after, and just as Sam was about to ask Dean a question, Jo's voice tore through the room.
"Dean, I just remembered!" she said excitedly, then asked, "When were you going to tell us you got picked captain?"
It took a moment for the question to break through Dean's food induced coma'ed mind, and when it sunk in he couldn't help the slight blush that formed on his cheeks.
"Uh, yeah," he began, clearing his throat. "I found out last night. A couple of teammates congratulated me on it."
A round of congratulations ran through the room. When John said, "I'm proud of you son. It shows commitment and responsibility," Dean didn't know what to do. He just did a small smile and that was it. Since when has he ever been proud of me? he asked himself. And commitment and responsibility my ass! I've been taking care of Sammy since before he could walk!
Across from him, however, Cas mumbled, "great. Just means your even more of a dick than I thought." It was so silent, Dean almost thought he imagined it, but when both Gabriel and Anna gave him a funny look, he couldn't stop himself.
"You wanna share with the class, Cas?" he asked, letting the nickname slip from his mouth. He half wanted to take it back, but his anger overpowered his mind and he couldn't bring himself to feel sorry. Last time he called him Cas out loud was the night before.
"I said, 'just means your more of a dick than I thought'," he repeated louder.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he screamed, raising to his feet. Rule number one in Ellen's house: no cussing. But when Ellen yelled out a 'Dean Winchester!', he didn't have a care in the world.
"It means exactly what it sounds like!" Cas yelled back, and by this time they were both on their feet, hands curled into fists at their sides, glaring across the table. "It means you're the big, bad dick of the school who can go around doing whatever the fuck you please just because you're popular! Or are you too stupid of a jock to have figured that out yourself?"
Before Dean could get another word out, Ellen, John, and Bobby were on their feet yelling stop.
Taking a deep breath, Ellen stared at the both of them, then said as calmly as she could while pointing to the door, "the both of you, outside. Now!"
Dean knew he messed up. You don't cuss under Ellen's house. Rule number two was that you don't yell. If you break both rules, Dean let out an involuntary shudder. He didn't want to think what was about to happen. He's never so much as yelled up the stairs to get someone's attention.
By the time Ellen came outside, with Bobby and John trailing behind her, Cas was pacing back forth, you could literally see a straight line in front of the house where his shoes dug into the earth. His hands were clenching and unclenching repeatedly as he mumbled to himself, sending death glares Dean's way each time he turned around.
Dean on the other hand was in the Impala, laying on his back in the front bench, with the music softly playing. He knew what he did to make Cas so angry, but that didn't mean Cas had to bring it up at the table in front of everyone. But when he heard the front door slam shut and the three other pairs of foot steps accompany Cas', he turned the car off and joined the others.
"So," Bobby began. John looked down right furious. Well, guess he's no longer proud of me, Dean thought, smirking to himself.
Bobby cleared his throat loudly before he began again. "We just spent the pass few minutes discussing what happened in there. Either of you want to explain what that was about?" No. Not really. None of your business. I fucked up last night *literally*, and now I'm paying the price. No point in ever being proud of me, guys!
When neither of the teenagers spoke, Ellen started this time, picking up where Bobby left off. "What it looked like to us is that Castiel was judging you before he got to know you," she began, looking towards Dean. Switching her gaze towards Castiel she said, "now, Castiel. I know we don't know each other that well, and I can't begin to imagine what your life at school was in the past, but we all want to get to know each other. We know Dean can be quite a handful," at this John huffed in agreement.
Sending a glare John's way, Bobby continued, "we think, since you two are closest in age, what with Sam being four years younger and Jo being both a year younger and a female, that the best course of action is to give you both the same punishment."
"So what do we have to do?" Cas asked, rolling his eyes, crossing his arms, and tapping his foot. Apparently, this is not the first time Cas has gotten into trouble before. "Wash your car? Clean the house spotless?" he asked.
"No," Ellen continued. "No. We think a week of alone time between the two of you is exactly what you need. Starting tonight, you will both either sleep here or at the Winchester's." A look of shock crossed both teens' face, Cs involuntarily dropped his arms. "You may alternate days for where you sleep if you wish. You must do everything and go everywhere with each other. This includes bathroom breaks. If one of you have to use the bathroom, the other will wait outside, same goes for the shower."
"But, Ellen!" You know Dean is pissed when he forgets the 'aunt' part. "Football practice starts tomorrow! I can't take him to practice!"
"And why the hell not, Dean Winchester!" It was John's uncontrollable raised voice this time. Dean just barely held back a jump. "You do the crime, you do the time. He doesn't have to do practice with you! He can sit in the bleachers for all we care! But you're taking him with you, and that's that!"
John stormed off into the house. Ellen just sighed and shook her head while walking away. Before leaving as well, Bobby said, "If I were the two of you, I would start discussing sleeping arrangements before walking back into the house."
When Castiel and Dean were finally alone again, both were too stubborn to say anything. Finally, Dean faced Cas and was not surprised to cold white fury in his eyes. "This is all your fault, Winchester. And I for one, am not stepping foot in your house." With that said, he turned around, made it half way before stopping. He threw over his shoulder, "I get the bed," and stomped his way back to the front door, looking like a small child throwing a temper tantrum.
Dean sighed. How the hell did you get yourself into this, Winchester? He asked himself. He rubbed both hands across his face and through his hair, let out one last sigh and thought, well, I made my bed, now I have to sleep in it, before he followed the others and walked back to the house.
Notes
So after almost 12 hours of off and on writing, and one and a half monsters, I finally finished chapter 2!
Again. Not beta'd. Hope you enjoy. Would love to hear what you think.
