Fights, Camera, Action

Chapter Twenty Nine

In the two days since the premiere, Dean had been going back and forth between drinking until he was sick and crying while hungover. His phone had been blowing up from Sam and Charlie trying to check on him, but he left them on delivered. Novak had kept trying to call and text as well, and he had been forcing himself to ignore those most of all. It had finally hit him how final this had been, what he had truly lost. Someone he thought was the love of his life had betrayed his trust in a way that could never be repaired, and he had to pick up those pieces. But he couldn't bring himself to start, so instead, he drank.

Well into the afternoon of the second day, Dean heard his doorbell ring from downstairs. At that exact moment, he wasn't drunk, just hungover and red-eyed. Sighing, he figured that he should at least tell Sam and Charlie he needed space in person, so he headed down the stairs. Rubbing at his eyes as if the at could make his headache disappear, he opened the door and started to talk.

"Guys, I really just don't want to-" he started, and then stopped. It wasn't Sam and Charlie standing at his door, but Jody. As soon as she saw him, her face fell, and before he could get a word in, she was crushing him in a hug.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around much these last few weeks, Dean. I know it's been hard for you, and I should have come to check in on you sooner," she said, rubbing his back as she held him close.

That was enough to break him, and he clutched at her, sobbing into her shoulder. Gently, she walked him backwards and shut the door behind them, never letting go of him as he cried. His shoulders shook, and she just held him patiently.

Finally, he contained himself enough to lean back and release her. She reached up and wiped the tears from his face, giving him a soft smile like the ones his mother had given him before she died. Jody was the closest thing he had to a mother these days, he realized.

"How long has it been since you've eaten?" She asked, and he shrugged. "Alright, then let's go upstairs and I'll make you something. Sound good?"

Dean nodded, and she led the way upstairs. As they got to the living room, he realized with mild horror how many bottles he had left scattered. Jody glanced around and, without a word or a look, began picking them up. It felt like a weight being lifted, seeing that she wasn't angry or judging him. So, he helped her pick up the bottles and throw them away. Soon enough, the area looked clean yet again.

Jody commanded him to sit down, so he sat himself at the kitchen counter and watched her cook. She was smiling at him and humming to herself, making jokes every so often to try to get him to laugh and brighten up. By the time she had finished making the food, he felt better than he had in days.

Setting a plate for him and filling two glasses with water, she sat next to him and handed one glass to him. They sat in comfortable silence as he ate, and he was glad to have her there, even if he had intended to be alone a while longer. She had always been a comfort to him in his worst times, and he wished he had spoken to her sooner. He just hadn't wanted to burden her by reaching out, but it seemed that she didn't mind.

Finishing his food and drinking the water she'd given him, he stood and set them in the dishwasher. When he turned back to face her, she was giving him a look that promised a bit of a mom speech. Steeling himself, he walked back over and sat down next to her.

Jody reached over and grabbed both of his hands in hers, turning to look at him. There were the beginnings of tears in her eyes, and Dean hated that he had caused that.

"Dean, promise me that you won't do this to yourself again," she started, choking up a bit. "Don't drink yourself to death instead of asking for help. I love you, and your friends love you, and we want to help you. They asked me to come check on you, you know. They were worried sick, and so was I. When something that makes you feel bad happens, it is okay to talk to me. To them. I'd rather come over here and let you cry on my shoulder than end up watching you tear yourself apart because you didn't want to bother me."