Grocery Lists and Scattered Scars(destiel)

[8]

|Dean|

"You see Sammy, that wouldn't have happened if you had just told me what you know."

"I'm not gonna tell you Dean. And, it's Sam, not Sammy."

"Bitch, do I need to tickle you again?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking lightly.

"Fuck. Off." Sam said, quickly climbing out of the car, but not before yelling a chaste "Jerk!" to Dean.

"Language, Samuel!" The older sibling fake scolded, waggling his finger around. "Sam, c'mere!"

"No!"

"I will throw this at you!" He yelled, holding up his crutch.

"No, stop, mercy! Mercy!" Sam screamed as Dean got up, knocking his little brother down with the crutch and kneeling over him. They wrestled, wary of Dean's bum leg, feeling like normal brothers.

But, as always, their fun was cut short. The rumble of their father's silver 1994 Harley-Davidson Fat Boy rang out from the street, slightly vibrating the ground beneath it. The boys heard the kickstand go down and the bike shut off, and patiently waited for the yelling to begin.

"Boys! Get your asses inside this damn house, get off the ground!" He scolded, pointing a fat finger towards the door.

They both quickly scuttled towards the house, heads down but backs straight, keeping their gazes away from that of their father's.

When the two younger Winchester's made it inside, John hurriedly slammed the door, and the aforementioned yelling began.

"I expect that when I come home, this damn house is clean and dinner is started! Is your homework finished? Are those chores done? No! They aren't! Because you two are worthless little bags of skin that do nothing but horseplay like four year olds in the front yard! I raised you better!"

And as much as Dean wanted to say "you didn't raise us at all, I did," he held his tongue and nudged at his younger brother to make it to his bedroom, so he wouldn't face the wrath of John Winchester.

~~~

|Castiel|

A sharp pain in his left side. Hurt spreading like fire through his backside, as if being thrown to the ground. What felt like a kick against the rock hard material of his cast.

This beating wasn't very harsh. He had felt worse. This was mediocre, a four times weekly thing that hurt like hell at first but eventually you got numb to the feeling.

Punch to the jaw. Kick to the stomach.

Poor Dean. Castiel thought, frowning as he felt three repetitive slaps across his face.

This had become a reality, and Cas just hoped that Dean would be okay. That his soulmate wouldn't be too messed up.

Because even if they've never properly met, Castiel cared for the boy. Because he knew the universe meant for them to be together.

He knew that somewhere deep down there was a spot in him that liked Dean, despite his only talking to the boy twice.

~~~

That probably sucked towards the end because I'm tired and practically falling asleep just typing this. But I needed to get a chapter out and when I'm trying to sleep is the best time for that, so...

I'll try to update more often if possible but I'm not promising anything.

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K bai,
ALLY