Moving On (Destiel)

4: How to suck at titles xD

"What? Being here so early?" Sam said, slipping on the passenger seat after school was over. Dean pulled out of the parking lot and began driving home. After he had sorted his things out about Cas, he had immediately relaxed and – having ditched class – time enough to put on a poker-face to convince his little brother of his daily boredom and disinterest of life itself.

Sam, however, might be a moose, but he was a moose with a brain.

"You usually take a lot longer than me", he hinted, eying Dean attentive. "You skipped class or what?"

"Yes, I did", Dean admitted, not being ashamed. Wouldn't be the first time; Dean Winchester wasn't one to care a lot about school, and if he pretended he had gone to the lesson, Sam would find out sooner or later, and hiding something banal like that would only drive Sam suspicious.

"Why?"

Dean looked at Sam, being confident enough in driving to not care about looking at the road all the time. The part they were currently on was straight, anyways, so no need to panic. 

Sam didn't either; he was used to Dean looking anywhere but to the road whilst driving. "Did you really just ask that? 'Cause I didn't feel like it, that's why."

Sam raised his hands in defense. "Just wondered. You haven't done it in a while."

Dean didn't answer to that; Sam and interfering with Dean's (love)life and problems never ended well, because Dean liked to keep certain things to himself, shutting them out to not be bothered anymore, and Sam would proceed in bringing them up, believing "talking would help Dean to deal with his feelings", and Dean really had had enough chick flick today. 

So, he pretended to concentrate when he took a curve, and left the straight road.

When they came home, their father wasn't there. "Probably out to get some new beer", Dean pointed out due to Sam's questioning look. It was the only thing that could get John Winchester up these days.

Sam simply nodded and headed towards his bedroom.

Dean just collapsed on the coach; he was aware of all the things that had to be done, yet he didn't find the energy to actually deal with them. 

He had the feeling he just kept digging in a black hole, desperately searching for something he needed for life; he didn't know what it was, though, and he certainly hadn't found it yet. And between the relieving moment that was hopefully yet to come and now, there was just no space for such a thing as homework or cleaning the house. 

There were temporary, anyways... the next lesson he'd get new homework in that subject, and in about two days the house would probably be a mess again, so why bother by making the effort of cleaning up, wasting a precious amount of hours, if it didn't hold on? 

A clean house didn't last forever, no relationship ever did, not luck, nothing. Nothing lasted forever. And when it came to the final end everybody shoukd actually have been expecting, it still hurt.

And it order to avoid that pain, you shouldn't even start to enjoy those little good things.

"Have you had fun in school day?", Dean started a conversation with Sam later that day, who seemed to just be as much in thought as he was himself. Still, he felt the urge to question Sam about a few things, since they had no parents to do that, and it would make Sam feel noticed.

 And the silence wasn't directly unpleasant, but no words exchanged for a total of twenty minutes, just to part in one's room again to be left alone, went against Dean's definition of "family".