infatuate / destiel au

five

          October

   John had packed some of his own clothes into a suitcase for Dean, hoping it would fit him. Dean didn't come to the house prepared to spend more time over with Sam.

   Lisa had talked to Mary, who passed onto Dean that she needed more time. He hoped this would all be over by the end of the week. With that mindset, Dean took the week off of work to get back to normal.

   "You'll be fine, Son. Give her time," John had talked to Sam who hesitantly agreed to Dean staying with him.

   Dean was in low-hanging sweatpants with a plain black t-shirt. He didn't feel up for formal attire. His hair was ruffled and messy from his sleep and the bags under his eyes were turning a dark purple. His cheeks were puffed up from crying and the skin on his arms is red from Dean tearing at it. He only did it when he was nervous.

  "How much time?" Dean's voice cracked, he definitely couldn't take much more of feeling like this.

John sighed, "When she's ready, Dean."

   Dean didn't want to hear this. He wanted to hear that she'd be back, she'd forgive him and they'd move on. He wasn't ready to give his family up.

   Dean found it ironic that not only days earlier he was joyful about his perfect life. He wasn't so thankful anymore. Not everything is all it's meant out to be, Dean learned. Nothing stays as is.

   Sam was supposed to pick Dean up after his shift at work which wasn't for another fifteen minutes. Instead of grabbing his things, he sat there, mellowing in his own self pity.

   His heart was taking over his head and he was torn. He wanted to go home. He wanted to come home after work and smell Lisa's cooking or see Vee's drawings scattered all over the floor and Ben's music blaring from upstairs. He needed to have that right now. It had only been two days yet it felt like a whole decade had passed.

   Mary called out, "Dean, your brother is here!" Dean held in a breath and shakily stood up. He knew that it would end and he may be being a drama queen but he was so broken at the moment he didn't care. He wanted the pieces of his life put back together.

   Dean's thoughts were over crowded with Lisa and Ben and Vee that he couldn't possibly have any anxiety or anger towards Sam. He was exhausted and all he wanted to do was lay down and doze off.

   John handed Dean the bag of essentials and gave him a light push of encouragement. It was comforting, these past couple of days he'd been closer to his father then he was in his youth.

   "Sam's waiting for you," Dean felt like he couldn't move. Every ounce of courage he had slowly drained from the inside and he was left stuck in place.

"Come on, son, I am not carrying you. You're not exactly light." Dean wanted to laugh, to reassure his father that he was fine. How could he do that when no ounce of him was okay?

   "Dad," Dean started, avoiding the hard stare his father was giving him, "I can't."

   His father's hand rested next to Dean, "Don't give up just yet Dean, you're too young for that shit. Get up, go out there and hug the daylights out of that brother of yours. Take the rest as it comes," Dean stood quiet, he still couldn't bring himself to move, not for himself and not for his father.