Dear Addiction

Chapter two

His phone buzzed, and no matter how far he buried his head into the pillow it didn't seem to stop, continuing to play ramble on by Led Zepplin. Dean groaned forcing the pillow over his head and instead burying his face into the couch backrest. Then the music stopped, for barely a second before it began up again. "Fine!" Dean yelled, sitting up. He grabbed his phone, sliding accept to the call.

"Dean." He was greeted as he brought the phone to his ear. Dean immediately fell back into the  couch, making the loudest groan possible. It was far too early to be awake, even more so if it meant talking to his manager.  

"Crowley." Dean replied, he lent his head back, closing his eyes in exhaustion. "What do you want?"

"Good to see you're as pleasant as alwa-"

"Yah yah, get to the point."

There was a sigh from the other end, "I was checking in on you, making sure you got to your brothers alright, and have been staying out of trouble."

If his eyes were opened, Dean would have rolled them. "Look, I know you love the whole 'be good talk'". Slowly Dean's eyes fluttered open, meeting the living room ceiling, "but Sam already beat you to it."

"I mean it, no drinking-"

"You've already told me."

"No drugs, no hookups."

"I get it! Sit, stay, be a good boy."

"Dean i'm serious,"

"And I told you, I get it."

"Make sure you don't forget about-

"I won't!" Despite Crowley's protests Dean hung up, letting the phone fall from his hand and onto the couch. "Fucking Crowley," Dean mumbled. He kept his head tilted back, studying the popcorn ceiling, as he hummed a slow beat. He drummed a finger against his thigh, trying to keep the melody going, it would've been easier if he'd had his guitar, but with that still in his car, his fingers would have to do.

Dean groaned as the beat he had been drumming became just beating into his thigh, no longer following a rhythm. Soon the rapid tapping stopped, and Dean grabbed his phone, standing up to begin the morning routine that Sam had given him the night before. And though it was a simple list consisting of making the kids breakfast and nothing more, Dean had never been great at being productive before three, or at least one shot.

"Really Sam," Dean mumbled, pulling out a box of Cascadian Farm. He opened the cereal box, peering into it for a second before he dug his hand in and tossed the cereal into his mouth. It lasted barely a second before Dean ran to the sink spitting out as much as he could. He ran his hand across his tongue, attempting to get the rest out. "Just how he always liked his food: utter crap." Dean said to himself, dropping the box into the garbage.

Dean turned away from the kitchen, and to the hallway, stopping in front of the open bedroom door. The room itself was larger than Sams, but much more crowded with single beds pushed on both sides and dresser at the end. On one bed John sat flipping through a book, while Ellie was sprawled across the other, crayons and half coloured pictures surrounding her. Both kids were spitting images of Sam with his dark brown hair, and lean build, the only clear feature from Jess being Ellie's light blue eyes.

"Hey," Dean greeted. He lent against the door frame, hands in his jean pockets, the same way he would when trying to persuade Crowley into letting him miss out on the next meeting he was being dragged to. Ellie looked up though John continued to flip through his book. "I was wondering how you guys would feel if we went out for breakfast? Obviously we could eat in but since it's our first morning together," and Sam's food was crap, "I thought we could make it fun!"