Moving On (Destiel)

13: Father issues aka John can rot in hell

A/N: For everyone who plans to go to sleep after this next chapter (resolutions and stuff, I know how hard it is to keep them) go to sleep NOW.

The following chapter will contain triggers, so before you do it to yourself in the night, better sleep now and continue tomorrow. For everyone else: Try to ignore my crappy writing and enjoy if you've come so far...

"She's adopted," Sam said the moment he got into the car.

"Good to know. I already wondered," Dean answered, still staring out through the windshield of the Impala. A line of cars had formed in front of him, all waiting to finally leave the school parking lot. 

Damn, how he hated these traffic jams. 

He preferred to roar free and wild on the unrestricted freeways, preferably with his windows down so his face warmed by the sun could be cooled by the wind while he listened to classic rock on full volume, driving to the sunset. 

Sappy but beautiful.

"I guessed so. Jess's mother died in a house fire when she was very young, and her dad died trying to save her. Jody was a friend of her mom's and has taken her in."

"Really nice of her." Dean said shortly, not in the mood for talking.

"Yes, right?" Sam fell silent as it dawned on him that he would not get a more nuanced answer. In any other situation Dean would have turned the music on, but he wanted Sam to get his crappy mood.

It stayed silent for a few minutes before the inevitable eruption broke off.

"ARGH! FUCK THIS SHIT!!" He hit the horn even though he knew it wouldn't bring him nowhere.

"Relax, okay?" Sam put his hands up in defense against a tantrum that wasn't held against him.

Well, not officially. But Sam did seem to realize he wasn't entirely accountable for Dean's petulance. "The car didn't do anything to you."

"I know," Dean gritted through his teeth and brushed his hand over the steering wheel. "I'm sorry, Baby. I didn't mean that. I won't hurt you again, I promise."

"Hopefully," Sam mumbled. "You really need to control your anger, god damn it."

"And you really need to stop being an asshole," Dean snapped, going full I'm-pissed-and-taking-it-out-on-you.

"Me?", Sam had a voice crack at that. "I am being an asshole?"

"Damn straight you got this," Dean said, stepping aggressively on the gas pedal so that Baby leapt forward. 

Now someone behind them honked, which made Dean curse wildly, and a little gentler he now let the Impala drive towards the exit, which had cleared up in the meantime.

"Okay, then. I am acting like an asshole. But it isn't me who started this fight." Sam crossed his arms und mimicked Dean by staring out of the front window. 

Which wouldn't be too bad, considering for once Dean was looking at the road, but Sam knew it was just a sign of Dean ignoring him.

"How is it my fault if you're a dick?"

"Well, for one: You, the big brother, raised me, so you're responsible for me. This applies to my good character traits, but also to my rude, insubordinate ones." 

Dean didn't answer. He raised the kid, that was right. It might be partly on him how he developed, but he wasn't the one to barf him out. He didn't give him his genetics.

"Plus," Sam continued, "You caused it. You don't talk to me."

"I do."

"You know how I mean it," Sam hissed, "I know you don't like sharing your feelings, but this is going too far. I think something is wrong – very, very wrong. And as your brother I feel responsible for you too. I want to help you."