Moving On (Destiel)

26: It all goes down

It didn't go after plan. When does it ever? Not with Dean Winchester, at least.

Dean cursed life when he started the engine, accelerating with every second, an anxious look at the watch.

4:23 p.m.

There was still enough time left. He had dropped Cas off and then Sam – who was hanging out with some guy for once, Henry or something like that – with the plan to get the hours over in the bar or just driving around the town while singing along to his favorite songs. 

Then at 5:30 he'd get Cas, do something fun with him, but be home at 7:30 because Sam would come home then by himself, too. Dean wanted to be home a tac earlier so that Sam didn't have to be alone with John.

And now he was screwed.

It's enough time, enough time, he hummed like a ritual in the desperate hope of its truth.

He should have expected something like that.

A call. A simple phone call. And yet it changed the situation in a drastic way.

It was 4:36 when he finally arrived at the main branch, and after waiting a couple of minutes of which any stretched like an eternity, he got one job.

Only one.

He could do that.

At 4:51 he was on the road again, speeding up again. He just hoped it'd go by easily, without complications that'd take his time. He could let Cas wait five minutes, even if the thought made him want to die, even though he had promised the boy and himself to be waiting already, to be punctual. 

But five minutes were under the limit. Five minutes were okay.

Normally he'd distract himself from the tension by thinking of his best friend, but not today. When he thought of Cas, he thought of the disappointed look on the boy's face he'd see in case he didn't make it.

Instead, he did something he hadn't done in a long while, which he stopped long even before the move.

He thought of his mother.

He thought of her curly blonde hair, her stunning face with which she'd been one of the prettiest girls her age. Her laugh came into his mind, her pure and carefree laughter; her generous smile, and the eyes full of love and kindness looking down at him.

And then he remembered how his father had hidden the body.

He pushed the memory down, deep down, but his eyes had already began to fill with tears. He just wanted her back. Wanted it all go back to normal. To easier times.

He hadn't had a good and loving childhood. So, he had to hold on to that tiny part that filled him with hope – always had and still did. And that was Cas.

With these memories being awoken, he was cut off from reality.

He noticed the police car too late.

His first instinct was to step on the brakes, but he took a hold and overthought that. He was a drug dealer. He had quarter a kilogram cocaine in his trunk. He knew the boundaries of what was considered a crime to have on yourself – if it was only a tiny bit that you bought for yourself, it wasn't even illegal. 

But with the amount of what he habituated; that would definitely identify him a dealer.

And that was illegal.

And the police was right behind him.

Crap.

A look to the watch told him it was 5:09 p.m. Well, that was just perfect. Maybe he could have gotten the job done in time, but not with the police in his back.