Control - Dean Winchester [1]

37 ; The Kids Aren't Alright

—Hey, guys! Could you please leaving some questions here for the little Q&A thing I'd like to do at the end of the chapter. If you commented a question in the previous chapter, I didn't get it because my account was being really odd and wasn't letting me see where people were commenting. So, please leave some questions and thank you so very much! :)

—What was your first opinion on Control when you read the first chapter? I thought, and still think, my writing in the first chapter was some of my worst lol

—What color is your hair? I'm a brunette :)

—How are you liking Season 12 of Supernatural? Tbh it isn't their best season, but it's pretty good so far

To say Odessa was infuriated was an understatement. She was absolutely positive outraged was an euphemism for how enraged she was, and she was incapable of expressing her anger into words. And, to make matters worse, she was currently suffering with her menstrual cycle (AKA Shark Week) and to even think of what happened angered her even more. In attempts to ease her frustration with her boys and the world, she directed her attention on searching through the large pile of books on the desk before her. "Dude, you mind not eating those on my bed?" Sam asked, exasperated. 

Glimpsing towards Dean through her lashes, she restrained herself from tossing her book at his beautiful face. He was devouring on chili cheese fries, not seeming to care if his mouth was open and his mushed food was on display. He was moaning in delight with each bite, and it was beginning to become extremely annoying. "No, I don't mind," Sam sighed heavily and returned his attention back on the pages. Dean began licking his fingers. "How's the research going?" He asked, voice muffled.

Sam shut the book forcefully. "You know how it's going? Slow. You know how it would go a heck of a lot faster? If I had my computer." Dean hummed as he feigned a wide grin, nodding vigorously. Odessa rolled her eyes, displeased with the topic being mentioned once again. She knew they hadn't had sex yet, they just didn't have the time, but she would've appreciated if Dean didn't exhibit his porn for her to see and remind her she wasn't satisfying him. Regarding her dissatisfaction, Dean's sarcastic grin instantly demolished, and he focused on his magazine and evaded her chilling glare. "Can you turn that down, please?" Sam nearly shouted.

Dean didn't tear his gaze from his magazine. "Yeah, absolutely." He twisted the nob on the stereo, increasing the volume. Sam exhaled sharply through his nose, clenching his jaw with vexation. At the moment, they were all behaving childishly, and they were all aware, but that didn't stop them from bickering ceaselessly.

"You know what," Sam began, "Maybe you should just go somewhere for a while, huh?" If Dean didn't leave, or even Sam, she was seconds from deserting them for a couple hours. She needed time alone, some time to eradicate her clamoring thoughts. The piercing pain in her abdomen was strengthening and her lower back was corrupting her concentration. 

Dean stopped the music. "Hey, I'd love to. That's a great idea. Unfortunately, my car's all screwed to hell." 

Slamming the book on the desk, Odessa practically shouted, "Dean, we already fucking told you we had nothing to do—" Raking her fingers through her hair, she stopped and gathered her composure. The sudden movements jolted sharp pains throughout her recovering arm, and she winced. She kneaded her shoulder, careful not to apply too much pressure on the wound. Sam gave her a concerned glance, but she ignored him. She remembered Sam didn't stop apologizing to her when he discovered he shot her, and he was always offering to assist her when she was exercising or doing her hair. She appreciated his efforts, but she had already accepted his apologies and often had to remind him she wasn't completely useless.