Heat of the Moment

Four

Dean Winchester sat, alone, for a moment, before sighing and driving home. He wondered about that Castiel. He was a strange kid. The one thing that Dean couldn't figure out, though, was why Castiel had those bruises along his arms and legs. He apparently thought he was concealing them good enough but he was not. When Dean got home, he mulled it over in his room, thinking of logical reasons why Castiel had those bruises all over his body.

The one thing he regretted was not asking him about it, though he knew Castiel wouldn't answer or at least wouldn't want to.

He walked inside, scuffling his feet to rid them of wetness. It had rained the day before, so his shoes, naturally, were wet. Dean Winchester, though, liked this weather. It was musky and damp. He closed the door behind him, hearing his father's snores from inside. John was usually exhausted after a long day at the story, where he worked. Aside from hunting, deer and stuff, it was his only job, but unfortunately, hunting deer didn't pay. If it had, John Winchester would get the best money in the world. John was abruptly awoken by the slam of the door as Dean took off his shoes. "Dad," he said. "How long were you asleep?"

John Winchester sniffed, running a hand through his dark hair. "A few hours. Maybe two,"

Sammy's voice sounded from the kitchen. He scoffed. "Nice try, Dad. Try four." Sam Winchester was Dean's little brother, known famously in the family for being the nerdy but smart one. He planned on going to college and if he did, he'd be the only Winchester so far to. Sam was shooting for Stanford. Dean, to be honest, was surprised he had such high expectations. But that was good, he guessed. Dean had never really wanted to go to college. What he really wanted was to work in the garage with their uncle, Bobby. He already had a part-time job but was looking forward to getting a full time job, even though Bobby said it was too much for Dean to handle. Dean disagreed but you couldn't argue with Bobby. It was like trying to argue with a wall and if you tried to win, he'd hold his ground. Anyways, so Sam was trying to get into college because he was a ninth grader and he thought it was his job, at that age, to work hard and do good, because Dean always had to.

John grumbled at Sam, half kidding in half really annoyed. He said, "Shouldn't you be cooking or somethin?'"

Sam laughed though Dean could tell he wasn't really happy to be cooking while their dad was passed out on the couch.

Dean couldn't help rolling his eyes. "Why can't you cook dinner for once?" he asked John, not meaning for it to come out as rude as it sounded.

"What'd you say?" John Winchester asked, his voice dangerously low.

Dean froze. "I- uh- sorry," he said finally, not really knowing what to do.

"Right," John said, relaxing a little. "That's what I thought you said."

Dean licked his lips, not saying anything else in return. John always wondered aloud why there was so much tension in the room after he said things like this but this time he didn't. Dean suspected he was already passed out again. "Hey, Sammy," Dean said, ruffling his brother's hair as he reached around him for the spaghetti his brother had started making.

"It's Sam, not Sammy," Sam Winchester objected, sighing as he parted his hair again as it had been before.

"Alright, Sam not Sammy. How'd your day go?" It was a question that Dean asked daily. He always had to worry about Sam's welfare because no one else did. Sam insisted he don't worry because he's 'just fine' but to be truthful, he just doesn't want his brother to worry because he has too much to worry about already.

"Good," was Sam's usual response. He replied with it now.

"Good," Dean Winchester said, setting the table and getting drinks for everyone. A beer for John, water for Sam, and coke for himself.

Sam sighed. "One thing though," he said sheepishly.

"What is it?" Dean asked, excitement in his voice.

Sam blushed. "It's nothing really, but there's this girl who-"

"Girl, huh?" Dean raised an eyebrow and then wriggled it suggestively. He knew Sam was too classy to even think of dirty thoughts but Sam didn't mind putting up with Dean.

"Shut up, you interrupting son of a bitch," Sam Winchester growled.

Dean laughed and smiled down at Sam. "Okay, what happened?"

"Who asked me out today." Sam finished, his face pink. He put spaghetti on each of the plates, mostly trying to get away from Dean's torturous, and embarrassing ways.

"Yeah?" Dean said, genuinely surprised and excited.

"Yeah."

"We'll, I'll give you a little advice. First off, what's her name?" Dean asked.

"Jessica- Jess, really," Sam replied, his blush glowing bright red now.

"Alright. Well, think about whether you really like her or not. I know you probably think that now, you're so in love with her and you're gonna both grow up to be married living an apple pie life, but just ask yourself how you're going to handle it when you've got three kids running around like crazy, a job that exhausts you, and Jessica still clinging to hope that you will make it out alive-"

Sam laughed. "Dean, I'm fine. I mean, it wasn't a proposal or anything."

Dean smiled, sighing. "If you say so, Sammy. In that case, imagine the little things. The kisses for example. Imagine being at your favorite place, and leaning over and kissing her. If you get butterflies in your stomach, it's a yes. If you feel nothing mull if over some more. If you get a sick feeling in your stomach, it's a no. Got it?"

"Got it," Sam said. "But I think it's a yes either way."

Dean laughed. "Alright, Sammy. Go get 'er. Tomorrow."

"It's Sam!" Sam protested.

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Hey guys! Or guy! Or whoever is reading this! This chapter was mostly filler but hang in there. It gets more interesting as we go. Haha, sorry. I've been so busy lately and I can't promise when the next chapter will be up but I will try for tomorrow. Thank you and goodbye!