Undesired Hell [ Destiel AU ]

Whiskey and Sulking

The silence was almost nauseating. The empathetic cries from people who barley knew her only made Dean angry. He was at his mother's funeral. 

"They don't know," he whispered to himself. He bit the inside of his cheek as he sensed the vile wrath. No one knew his mother like he did, no one. Dean couldn't cry, he was too tired of crying so he just stood quietly behind crying relatives, holding baby Sam in his arms. No one cared to see how much Dean understood, because he was only four. Everyone was surrounding his father, sharing sympathetic hugs of woe. 

Dean only had Sam. Sam was sleeping, soundless and face scrunched into Dean's jacket. At that moment he pressed his forehead gently against Sam's and promised to take care of him like their mom would have. The wind blew through Dean's hair and instead of feeling cold when the wind blew he felt warmth, like his mother was with them again. 

The memory faded, Dean sat on the floor of his apartment picking at different strings on his guitar. Today was November 2nd, the anniversary of his mother's death- the only day he ever took off from all work. As usual he was curled up in a corner drinking from a half drunken bottle of whiskey and sulking over the death of his mother. No one ever saw him like that, ever, because Dean wouldn't let them. Dean's a very reticent person, usually unresponsive when people try to get him to open up. He strummed a few more strings then sadly chuckled, remembering how easily he had given in and told Castiel about his past life a few weeks ago. He had never done that. Ever since then the boy was a little more distant, Dean wondered why.  

Bobby and Jody were like his second parents and Dean remembered how long it had taken him to open up to them. All those years of them constantly bothering him to give up the tough kid act and open up, those were some great teenage years. 

"I want you to open this damn door, Winchester." Bobby shouted outside of Dean's bedroom. Dean was sitting on his bed with a cigarette in between his pink lips and listening to the Led Zeppelin CD he had picked up at Fitz record store. He had gotten into a fight at school and Bobby had just heard about it from Sam. 

"I'm studying!" He grumbled and stood, pacing his room until he stopped in front of his mirror. Dean's eye was slightly bruised from where the kid had punched him back. He winced after pressing a finger to it and turned his head as he heard his bedroom door being unlocked. 

"Son of a bitch." He quickly put out the cigarette as Bobby entered the room. 

"You got into a damn fight didn't you?" Bobby glared at him grimly and Dean furiously looked away,"It's not like you don't already know." 

"Why did you do it, boy?" Bobby yelled at him again and Dean scoffed, acting like he hadn't noticed the hurt in Bobby's voice.

"Dean!" A few seconds later Sam ran into his room to hug him. Dean relaxed a little as he hugged his little brother, "Heya Sammy." 

"I told Bobby you got into a fight, I was just really worried. Don't argue, please." The boy stared at him with apologetic eyes and Dean nodded. Bobby sighed, watching his two boys. 

"Okay. We won't..-" Dean glanced over at Bobby, "..I'm sorry, Bobby. " 

Dean closed his eyes as the whiskey burned the back of his throat after swallowing it. He remembered that day and every other where they had argued over stupid things. Bobby always forgave him, he cared, not like John. Dean put his guitar aside him on the floor and stood up, walking towards his room. He tripped over his feet a few times trying to get to bed, but once he was in bed he pressed his face into his pillow. He turned onto his side and stared at nothing in the pitch black darkness of his room. 

Tomorrow he was to go back to work, act like he hadn't been a mess today. He dreaded it so much knowing Jody would ask him first thing tomorrow how he was doing. Dean exhaled loudly then closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep and surely he did.