Divorces and Milkshakes » Cockles

P r o l o u g e » One Shot

To say he was heartbroken was an complete and utter understatement. Misha Collins didn't know what to do with himself when he first saw the letter on the kitchen table his son and daughter were currently eating their spaghetti at. His wife came in with a look that showed Misha that it was the end. No talking about it. It was final. They were getting a divorce.

Two months later and they still hadn't got out of the first step in the divorce stages. Misha could barely look into his children's face without feeling the overwhelming urge to cry. They looked so much like their mother it was uncanny. He found peace in late night drives, he found. Just driving around without a destination with his music playing quite loudly leaving him no room to even begin to think. Well, that was up to the night he had climbed into his car and found the radio missing from the slot it should be in.

Someone has stole a divorcing man's car radio. They had stole the man's only source of happiness at the moment. He drove around in the complete silence, not finding as much joy in the ride as he would have liked; his argument with Victoria still fresh in his mind. He still wasn't sure how everything started to go wrong, but he knew he wanted what was best for her and their two children.

The next day he had a couple of scenes to film for an episode of Supernatural and he felt- well, let's face the truth, he felt like fucking shit. He wasn't up for Jared's or Jensen's antics today, he just wanted to get the scenes done, rest in his trailer for a while and just avoid human interaction for as long as he possibly can.

Obviously, the world was against him and the minute he stepped out of his car he was greeted with a cream pie to the face. He heard the laughter of his co-workers and he let out a dry laugh before walking to his trailer and clambering inside. He removes all of the pie infested clothing and walked to the small bathroom. He looked into the mirror and truly saw how horrible he looked. He had deep, dark bags under his eyes, he hadn't shaved in a while and his eyes were red with being bloodshot.

Misha was at a standstill, he wanted all of this pain to go. The kids didn't understand. Misha hadn't gotten round to talk to them, every time he tries to go near them Victoria glared him away. Misha couldn't answer the questions that left unasked in his children's minds.

Why were mommy and daddy fighting?

Why isn't mommy crying like daddy?

Why can't we talk about Robert to daddy?

Misha washed his face and threw on some new clothes. He checked the time and noticed he had two hours till his scene was up so he set a timer for an hour and a half before crashing down onto the sofa and falling asleep there and then. It was the most delightful sleep Misha had gotten in a long time, alas it did nothing for his forever present bad cloud above the man's head.

He slowly strolled to costume and got changed before going to makeup and hair. By the time he got to set he was glad that he decided to wake up half an hour than he was thinking of originally.

"Misha, you made it. Shower too good, huh?" the director says and I give him a tight smile, he gives a sad smile back, him being the only one that knows about the divorce with me having to email and ring him up to tell him why I couldn't be in to shoot some scenes.

"HEY, MISHA!"

He groan and turn towards Jensen who was on set holding a water balloon. "Not now, guys." He pleads to no avail because it was too late. SPLAT! It exploded all over him and he don't say anything, he just go to his trailer, grabs his keys, and drives away. The director will understand and he'll go back in an hour or so. He can normally tolerate the pranks, but these days his patience level was lower than Joey Essex's IQ.