The Outcast: Destiel High School AU

Chapter Three: Home

Dean sat in his car, waiting for the middle school bell to ring, signaling the end of the day for his brother. The bell for Sammy rang about ten minutes after the bell for Dean did, giving the high schoolers, who either didn't have younger siblings or didn't care to drive them home, a chance to get out of the shared parking lot before the buses showed up. Dean looked at the clock on the dash of his 1967 Chevy Impala. There was only about a minute left until the bell rang. He pulled out of his spot and went to wait in the pick-up line for Sammy.

~

"And then we took him out of the tank and he got to run around the classroom while she talked and and I got to hold him and he was fuzzy and warm and adorable and -"

"And now you really want one, right?" Dean cut off Sam. He had already been talking about his day for the entire ride home and had only gotten to third period by the time they had reached their house. It was a good twenty minutes from the school to their house this time of day. He just never shut up.

"So what if I do?" Sam challenged.

"Hey, I don't mind, but I'm pretty sure Mom and Dad would care if we suddenly had a small rodent running around our house."

"Speaking of the parental units, when are they getting home tonight? Dad had said something about a big meeting but what about mom?"

"She called before you got out of school, she has to work late at the shop and is just going to eat dinner there with Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen. So, what do you want for dinner? I can make something or we can order; Mom said she left money on the counter," Dean said, watching his brother's face fall. John and Mary were great parents, when they were around. Due to their jobs and their hours, the couple was rarely home anymore. Mary had been a stay-at-home Mom until Dean was about nine, then she got a job as a mechanic. When she'd had Sam she hadn't wanted to quit her job. In result, Dean had practically raised Sam, teaching him all of the skills that Mary and John had taught him.

"Let's just order a pizza," Sam said dejectedly. He had grown used to them being gone, but for some reason it was hitting him harder this year.

"Hey, it'll be okay, they'll be home around ten okay?" Dean tried to reassure his brother, though he wasn't sure what the problem was in the first place.

Sam nodded. "I'm gonna go work on homework, call me when the pizza gets here, okay?"

"Sure Sammy. I should probably work on my homework too."

Dean ordered their dinner and then got out his bag to start on homework.

The night went on, uneventful as usual. The boys worked on homework, ate dinner, and at eight they both sat down to watch the next episode of their favorite television show. At ten Sam went to bed; Dean would stay up until one of their parents got home. At about eleven John stumbled through the door.

"Hey, Dean, the meeting ran long so I couldn't leave when I wanted to. Where's Sam?"

"Sam went to bed at ten. We had pizza for dinner, there's some in the fridge if you want it. Where's mom?" Mary didn't usually get home later than John, and if she did she called.

"She didn't call you? Her car broke down, ironic right, and she's staying the night at your Aunt Ellen's inn," John said as he stumbled to the stairs, heading up to bed. "Dean can you lock up? I'm exhausted."

"Yes, Dad, that's fine," Dean replied, suppressing a yawn.

"Thanks, son. Goodnight."

Dean locked up the house and turned off all the lights before stumbling back to his bedroom. He was the only one with a room on the main floor. It was tucked towards the back of the house and he practically had the entire area to himself. It was nice. It was lonely.

Dean collapsed on his bed, the tears forming in his eyes. He was just so sick of everything. He acted like everything was fine but it wasn't. He wasn't. The bullies, the tedious schoolwork, the absent parents, it was all too much.

Eight months. You can survive eight months more. You can do this. You have to do this. Sam needs you to be strong. Sam needs you to take care of him. Sam needs you.

Dean held onto that thought as he fell asleep, tears drying on his face. Sometimes it was that thought, and that thought alone that kept him going. So what if he had a good home? So what if he had parents who didn't beat him?

A good home doesn't always mean a good life. A good life doesn't always mean a good home.

With those words circling his brain, Dean slowly fell asleep, into the only place he knew of where it didn't hurt to exist.