"How's the hand?" Dean asked passing Sam a bowl of cereal Monday morning before school.
Sam had it wrapped up and on a bag of ice, like the doctor had instructed him to do three times a day for next two weeks.
"It stings," Sam nodded. "Still a little swollen, but I'll live. Thanks."
Dean sat down next to Sam at the table, slowly sitting h is coffee. "So… I guess you figured why you spraining your wrist I'd forget that you told me you have a little lady?"
"Oh my God," Sam groaned rolling his eyes. "Really, Dean, I'm trying to eat breakfast."
"Is it one of the girls you've had over here after school?" Dean pressed. "Those kids you play Dungeons and Dragons with in your room?"
"We're not playing Dungeons and Dragons you jerk," Sam glared through his bangs at his brother. "But yeah, one of my friends, Rachel."
"The blonde?" Dean smiled leaning back. "With the frizzy hair and braces?"
Sam nodded. "She's really nice."
"I'm sure she is," Dean replied.
"I know she's not, like, unrealistically hot like all the girls you go out with but…"
"Sam," Dean cut him off. "You like her?"
Sam nodded eagerly.
"That's all that matters," Dean ruffled his little brother's hair and stood up. "Finish that up; you're drivin' yourself to school before I change my mind."
"Awesome," Sam smiled. "Hey… um… later, can Rachel and Paul and my other friends come over?"
"Don't they come over every day that Dad's not here?" Dean answered.
"Well, yeah," Sam replied. "But now that you know Rachel's my girlfriend, doesn't that change stuff?"
"As long as you're not, you know, fucking her on the kitchen counter, I don't give a shit what you do," Dean shrugged, placing his coffee cup in the sink. "Let's go, bitch, I gotta be at the shop at eight."
They fell into a pretty easy routine, John was rarely around, seemed like Topeka was the perfect hub for them, at least for now. Dean took a drive through Lawrence once the first week of November, drove down the old street. There were little kids playing tag running back and forth across the road as he slowly cruised by. The old house had been rebuilt, a new family living there. He thought for half a second about stopping in, making something about to get him inside, but in the end he just drove the twenty minutes back to the apartment and remembered his mom the way he'd done every year since he was fifteen, with enough warm liquor to put himself into a dreamless sleep.
Sam got some award for playing soccer at a banquet in November. Dean sat in the back row of a crowded auditorium during Sam's performance of Our Town clapping and screaming obnoxiously when Sam made his curtain call. Dean watched his little brother's budding romance with the kind of adorable blonde was they spent most every night studying for the SATs, which Sam scored a 1530 on at the end of November. Dean figured they'd book it out of there for Christmas, but Bobby came down to celebrate while John was in Michigan dealing with a Wendgio.
By March it looked like they were actually going to be in one town for a whole school year. Sam, of course was elated, but tried to keep his excitement to himself.
"I wanna ask Rachel to prom," Sam whispered across their bedroom late one night.
"Then ask Rachel to prom," Dean replied sleepily. "You don't have to get my permission. I don't give a shit what you do."
"You think we'll be here in May?" Sam said.
"Way things are going," Dean considered. "Good chance."
"You think she'll say yes?" Sam asked.
"You've been together since, what October?" Dean sighed. "Unless she has some other secret boyfriend she'll say yes. She seems pretty suck on ya, so I don't see her saying no."
"Will you lend me money to buy her flowers?"
"Yes, Sam," Dean answered. "I gotta wake up in five hours to go to work, so… if you could you know… shut up now."
"Can I drive the Impala to prom?"
"Sam," Dean said softly. "Go to sleep."
"Did you go to prom?"
"No, I was unconscious," Dean answered. "Or I'd dropped out already, something."
"Did you want to go to prom?" Sam asked sleepily. "We were in Amherst then right? Woulda gone with Olivia?"
Dean hadn't thought about Olivia in years, but Sam's sleepy mention of her name brought up a hundred questions he'd never get the answer to.
"Libby wasn't really a go to prom type of chick, Sammy," Dean replied. "She was more of a get drunk on the baseball field in her fancy dress type of girl. But I don't really think I would of even thought to ask her."
"Oh," Sam yawned, before finally falling asleep and snoring softly.
Dean snuck in after work a day the last day of April while Sam and Rachel leaned over a magazine at the kitchen table discussing prom.
"This is the color of my dress," Rachel said pointing at the glossy pages. "So you should get a tie that matches it. It will be really cute."
"Okay," Sam nodded. From Dean's angle it was pretty clear that Sam was staring down Rachel's shirt without her noticing.
"Are we getting a limo?" Rachel asked excitedly. "Becky and Leah said they're taking a limo with Paul and Drew."
"Umm…" Sam shook his head. "I can't really afford one… so I was thinking it would be cool if we took the Impala?"
"The big black car your brother drives?" Rachel asked. "That's basically a limo, if you washed it and cleaned it out so it was shiny and stuff."
"I can do that," Sam nodded.
"I'm holdin' you to that," Dean coughed passing though the kitchen and into the living room where John was sitting watching baseball on TV.
"I gotta job," John said, leaning forward and passing Dean a beer out of the six pack on the coffee table. "But I need you."
"Okay," Dean nodded popping the top of the bottle with his rings. "What we looking at."
"Not really sure," John confessed. "But there are six young men that have gone missing after last being seen at a bar in Junction City. Bodies turn up about three days later, drained of blood off I-70. If it keeps to pattern, should be taking the next guy Friday night."
"Friday night's Sammy's prom," Dean said.
"Prom's are mostly for the girl," John slurred. "Sam'll be fine, we don't gotta be here to see him off. But it's an hour away so we'd have to leave to make it there for happy hour before Sammy heads to the dance. I doubt he'll be too upset about having the house to himself after prom though."
"Whatcha need me for?"
"I ain't exactly a young guy anymore, Dean," John chuckled. "Whatever this is likes 'em between 20 and 25, and now that you're legal; we can get you into the bar and hopefully figure it out before it takes anymore lives."
"So you need me as bait?" Dean asked.
"I need you as a partner," John corrected.
"Alright," Dean sipped his bear slowly. "What do we need to do?"
"I got a couple books of lore," John nodded to the books on the coffee table next to the six pack. "Just gotta narrow it down so we know what we're up against. Gotta know what it is before we can kill it."
So Dean spent that night reading up, narrowing down the possibilities in his bedroom while his dad watched a baseball game. Dean knew it was because John noticed that Dean always made Sam do the research that his dad wasn't being a jerk. John did a lot of research on the things they hunted. He was just trying to mold Dean into a better hunter, one that didn't have to rely on other people to get things done. He'd appreciate one day, but right now it was just annoying.
Sam came in to the room a little after ten.
"Hey, Dean," Sam asked softly. "So my birthday's on Tuesday."
"I know," Dean nodded. "It's been the same day for 17 years. I know when it is."
"No, it's just," Sam stammered. "I need a suit. And I was hoping maybe you could rent me one for my birthday or something. I also need a dark blue tie."
"We'll go to the mall after school tomorrow," Dean nodded.
"What are you doing?"
"Dad's got a hunt," Dean answered. "We're going to Junction City on Friday."
"Oh," Sam nodded. "That's prom."
"Yeah," Dean replied. "So you'll have the place to yourself."
"Cool," Sam said, letting out a long breath. "Rachel was asking what we were going to do afterward. I guess we can come back here if you won't be home."
"Just, you know, don't do anything that I wouldn't do," Dean smirked.
"Dean," Sam sighed.
"And be careful," Dean reminded him. "Rachel's real sweet. Just don't do anything stupid."
"We've talked about it," Sam confessed. "About doing it, sex. She… uh… she's kinda looking forward to prom night. It's real romantic and stuff."
"Girls like that," Dean nodded. "Just don't pressure her."
"I won't," Sam nodded. "I wouldn't. I'm gonna let her run the show."
"That's the best way to do it," Dean agreed.
Sam looked cute in his tux. Dean snapped a couple pictures before he handed his brother the keys and told him to be careful. He hoped Rachel's mom took pictures, because he honestly felt like he was missing the most important night of Sam's life so far going on this hunt.
He fought asking his dad how he could miss milestones like this, why it didn't bother him, but he ended up convincing himself not to. John had the business face on, it wasn't worth risking picking a fight with someone who was going to have your back in a very dangerous situation in a few hours' time.
Dean had gotten so used to driving that riding shotgun was just uncomfortable. He fidgeted and played with the radio dial as his dad drove until John yelled at him.
"Driver picks the music," John said. "You sit still and touching everything."
"Yes sir," Dean nodded.
"So what are you doing once we get there," John asked.
"I'm just going to go to the bar and wait," Dean recited. "Spin a tale of woe loud enough for others to hear. Look for a red head, since that's who the others were last seen with. Buy her a drink, strike up a nice conversation, get her to leave with me. I should try see if she'll take me to her place. You'll be watching, and when I leave you'll follow us. If she tries something, knife her with a silver blade."
"Good," John nodded. "Just don't get too hands-y. I know how you can get with ladies sometimes."
"I know how to do the job, Dad," Dean replied.
"Good," John nodded; turning up the radio so they wouldn't have to talk anymore, just let Blue Oyster Cult fill the car.
The bar was smoky, the usual haunt that Dean managed to find himself in, a couple pool tables in the back where his Dad set up camp, might as well make a couple bucks while monster hunting. Dean set up at the bar, ordering a beer, telling anyone who would listen that his girlfriend had just left him, something else all the other victims had in common.
"She just took off," Dean lied to the bartender. "She left a note tell me she didn't love me no more and all her shit was gone. I had no idea. I had no clue she was leaving."
He got a couple free shots from bar flies that felt bad for him. He kept one eye open hoping that a little red head would hear his fake pain and buy it.
A few rounds into the night, a busty redhead appeared at Dean's left shoulder, jack pot.
"Hey, sweetie," she smiled. "I couldn't help but overhear, you poor baby."
"She just…" Dean held his hands up in front of him. "She just left."
The woman ran her fingers through his hair, looking into his eyes.
Dean felt compelled to lean in, to kiss her. They were lip locked at the bar for a few minutes before Dean came up for air. This girl was beautiful, the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.
"I wanna … I wanna…" Dean slurred. "We should leave."
"Okay baby," the woman said, running a hand down Dean's face. "Whatever you want."
"I want you," Dean nodded. "Like right now."
The woman giggled and pulled Dean away from the bar and outside.
"What do you drive sweetie," the woman breathed into his ear.
"My brother has the car," Dean answered. "He's going to prom."
"Oh, well then," the women pressed him up against the wall along the side of the bar away from the door.
Dean wanted to do bad things to this girl, right here in this parking lot where anyone could see him. He needed her. He started to play with her shirt, work his hand inside. She seemed equally interested, playing with the buckle of his belt.
"How do you wanna do this?" Dean asked when he was able to break away from her face for a few moments. He then immediately started to suck in her neck.
"Will you take me against the wall?" She asked getting his pants open.
Dean nodded and they maneuvered themselves until her back was against the wall, legs wrapped tightly around his waist.
"Just a sec, though," Dean pulled away, her legs hit the ground as he reached for his wallet. "What's your name?"
"Kirsten," she answered as she watched him find the condom he always carried with him.
"Dean," he answered ripping the foil.
"We don't need that," Kirsten shook her head. "I'm on the pill."
"No chances," Dean replied rolling it on. He lifted her back up, wrapping her legs around him, kissing her deeply as he aligned himself.
Suddenly there was a shriek and Dean's forehead hit the side of the building as Kirsten's head slumped against his shoulder then her body slowly fell to the ground.
"You're an idiot," John sighed, bloody knife in his hand. "Put your junk away and help me with the body. I'm gonna back the truck up. Get ready to toss her in the back."
"Yes sir," Dean nodded confused as he tucked himself away. He picked up the heavy body by the shoulders and slid her into the truck bed and climbed around to the door and climbed in. Her face wasn't the face of the pretty girl Dean had been with moments before. She looked almost like a mummy, the gorgeous red locks became stringy and patchy. It took a bit of self-control for Dean not to puke thinking about what he had almost done with this creature.
"The fuck was that?" John said as they started to drive away. "I thought I made myself clear about getting hands-y with the creature?"
"I don't know," Dean shook his head. "She just… I don't know. She touched my hair, and then I just needed her."
"Stupid," John said under his breath.
They burned the body off the highway in an abandoned field where no one would notice the flames. They took off when the flames died down and hit up a bar closer to home.
"All in all, though," John slurred as it got close to last call. "You did real good."
"Thank you sir," Dean nodded. "I know I went off script, I don't really know what happened."
"You gotta know all the lore on what you're hunting," John said patting his son on the back. "You didn't know she could seduce you with a touch, went in handicapped."
"You knew?" Dean asked.
"Course I did," John chuckled. "Think I'd let a rookie do all the research on a hunt. I was testin' ya. You passed, by the skin of your teeth, but you passed."
Dean shook his head as he finished his beer. He was kind of pissed, it was bad enough being used as bait, but bait that had been fed wrong information, left to hang if John hadn't been paying attention. Dean sighed and did a few shots, trying to numb it. He'd have to research better next time. He'd know every possible thing he could about what they were hunting next time. He'd never let something like that happened to Sam if they went hunting together again. He'd learn to research better. Maybe even get Sam to teach him how, or Bobby next time they were up there. He'd do better. He'd learn. He'd make his Dad proud.
When they got back to complex, the Impala was in its parking spot, considering it was almost three in the morning, that was expected. John and Dean noisily made their way into the apartment. No matter how much they tried to keep quiet, being intoxicated made every little noise a million times louder.
"Good job tonight, kiddo," John whispered, wrapping an arm across Dean's shoulders and pulling him in tight against his chest. "You're still learning, but you did good. I'll see you in the morning."
"Thanks," Dean whispered, watching his dad walk toward the bathroom. Dean dropped his heavy leather jacket into a kitchen chair and pulled off his boot before heading to his bedroom. He opened the door and groped the wall to turn on the light.
He was greeted by something that would no amount of mental scrubbing would ever erase.
"Sorry," Dean said quickly, shutting off the light and closing the door. He leaned against it, eyes wide trying to process what he just saw.
John came out of the bathroom and stared at Dean.
"What?"
Dean held his hand out in front of his chest. "You'd never know, cuz she wears baggy shirts, but Rachel's got some tits on her. I'm gonna sleep on the couch. Don't go in there."
"What?" John shook his head.
"We should feed Sam more," Dean nodded as he flopped onto the couch. "Cuz he's really skinny."
"What are you talking about?" John slurred.
"Prom night's not over for Sammy," Dean said into the couch cushions. "His pale, skinny ass just blinded me."
"Right," John said before going into this own bedroom. Dean heard the door close before reaching for sleep himself.
In the morning, Dean was awoken by Sam tapping him lightly on the arm.
"Hey, dude," Sam whispered. "Wake up."
Dean moaned and turned toward his brother, the sunlight from the window behind the TV blinding him the process.
"If you want a bed, I just brought Rachel home," Sam whispered. "I know this isn't the most comfortable couch in the world."
"Lady's just going home?" Dean smirked. "Good for you, kiddo."
"Shut up," Sam smiled.
"Sorry about last night, though." Dean said pushing himself up a little, then changing his mind and laying back down. "I didn't even think didn't meant to walk in on ya."
"I don't think she noticed," Sam shrugged.
"I turned the fucking light on," Dean sighed, placing a hand over his eyes to block the sun. "I don't think you're that good."
"She didn't say anything," Sam replied, plopping himself into the arm chair.
"Well either way," Dean said. "Tell her I'm sorry, and that I didn't see anything."
"Okay," Sam nodded.
"I'm just gonna sleep here though," Dean decided. "Can you get me a pillow?"
"Yeah sure," Sam said, standing up and returning with a pillow, throwing it at Dean before sitting back down. "I think I'm gonna do down town, catch up with the guys maybe."
"Brag about your sexual prowess?" Dean chuckled tucking the pillow behind him. "Leave a note, in case I forget."
"Alright," Sam answered. "I'll see ya for dinner."
Dean fell asleep again shortly after Sam left. He was happy for his little brother, proud even. Maybe now he wouldn't be so whiny all the time that he was getting some. Dean smile as he drifted into dreamland hoping to sleep off the rest of his hangover.