Dear Addiction

Chapter twenty two

"DEAN WINCHESTER."

"WAS IT BECAUSE OF DRUGS!"

"DEAN"

"OVER HERE."

"WAS YOUR ARREST TO DO WITH THE CAR CRASH? WERE YOU FINALLY FOUND GUILTY?"

Dean was used to the press, it was the side effect of his career but as he heard the question he couldn't help but stop, turning to the crowd of paparazzi, who mostly had suddenly gone silent. "What the fuck did you say to me?" Dean spoke calm, despite the boiling of his skin. He took a step forward though Benny stepped between Dean and the crowd, keeping him from getting closer. "What did you fucking say to me!" Dean screamed.

A man only a few people away raised his microphone to his face, not seeming the least bit fazed by Dean's screams. "I said," he began slowly, no one else daring to break the silence except for the occasional camera flash. "Was your arrest in April linked to the car crash? Were you finally deemed guilty."

"Listen here you fucking son of a bitch," Dean spat. His fists clenched at his sides, "If i was fucking guilty would I be standing here, would I fucking be standing here!"

All at once the cameras erupted, as Dean lunged forward and Benny's arms quickly wrapping around Dean's waste holding him back. "I'd be rottin' in a fuckin' cell," Dean yelled attempting to free himself from Benny's grip. Though Benny stood an inch or so shorter than Dean he was much stronger, able to hold him back no matter how much Dean thrashed.

"FUCKIN' BITE ME YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

If Benny hadn't been holding him back Dean would've pounded the man's head in until he'd seen red, until he'd let out every stress he'd face from the past days. Cas, the airport, Sam hating him, the record, everything. He'd pound th mans head in until he could no longer breath, but instead screaming and swearing would have to do as Benny practically carried him through the crowd, and into the black car.

Even when the door had been shut the questions and camera flashes could be heard, the car only becoming completely silent when they'd driven a block or so away. 

"That was fuckin' bullshit," Dean spat after turning away from the tinted window and to Benny who sat in the driver's seat.

Benny nodded, "I know."

"You should've let me beat the bitch."

"I know."

"Then why didn't ye?"

Benny sighed, "it wouldn't have solved anything."

"That's what you think," Dean mumbled. He twisted his body to stare out the window once again, watching as the familiar LA streets whizzed by. His skin was still on fire, as his heart hammered with adrenaline. "Turn here." Dean said. "I'm goin' t'Lee's."

"Dean," Benny began in a concerned tone, the same kind that Sam spoke with so often.

"What?" Dean asked, "Because you're such a fuckin' saint?"

Benny may not do drugs but he had his own fair share of drinking problems, and would often join Dean and Lee for the first bit of their nights, before they began shooting cocaine. He didn't give another argument instead turning where Dean had requested. The rest of the drive was done in silence, until they'd pulled up to Lee's beach front house, when Benny said a goodbye, that Dean didn't respond to.

He slammed the car door shut behind him, and walked towards the two floor house without another glance back. The November sun burning against his eyes as he made his way up the path, and to the front door where he knocked harshly.