Chapter Text
The Tragic Truth
By Waywardgirl222
I'm drowning in the bottom of a bottle.
Running from a man I swore I'd never be.
No one ever has to face tomorrow.
But I'm the one that has to face me.
The Tragic Truth by Five Finger Death Punch
Dean Smith is going to be thirty this January. He’s a dashingly handsome corporate bloke with a chiseled chin, sandy light brown hair that’s sometimes looks dirty blonde in the right light and fiery green eyes. He’s also your typical workaholic. That’s not his real name by the way. His real name is Dean Winchester, but he doesn’t dare use it. His father, John would tear him a new one if he ever did. See, Dean Smith leads a double life and it’s currently killing him slowly. During the day, he’s a mild mannered up and coming junior executive at a burgeoning electronics company. He had worked very had to earn his degree from M.I.T. By night, he’s a seasoned hunter with his father. The first job is easy. He’s always been mechanically inclined, loving to tinker with small electronic devices. His second job is instinctual. He’s born for it, craves it. He and his father, John come from a long line of hunters. They save people, hunt the things that go bump in the night. It’s the Family Business. The hard part is that neither of these worlds can really coexist with each other. They must remain separate and secret from a world that simply doesn’t understand.
Dean’s married, by the way, to a beautiful brunette with big brown eyes. Her name is Lisa. They had been high school sweethearts. Lisa got pregnant right after high school, so Dean being the upstanding kind of guy that he is married her in a small ceremony. Neither of them came from a big family. It was a nice ceremony, intimate. Nine months later, Lisa gave birth to a bouncing baby boy. They named him Benjamin. He likes to be called Ben now.
It was easy the first few years of marriage. Dean worked hard in the new startup company. He didn’t make a lot of money. They lived modestly. Dean hunted on certain nights and on the weekends with John. Lisa thought they were “hunting”, you know… the normal kind. Dean always made sure to bring home a deer carcass. They ate a lot of venison.
Now, things are different. It all begins when he forgets the wedding anniversary. He’d been working late. The company was a huge success by now. Their son, Ben is ten now. He’s been wanting to go fishing and camping with Dean. He hasn’t had the time to take him. Naturally, his wife is exasperated with him. John’s been on his case to go hunt a were in another state. The relationship between him and his father was never the greatest. His father had dragged him on hunts throughout the lower 48 his entire life. Dean never had a home. John preferred to live out of skeevy motel rooms, cheap tenement buildings, or an occasional squat in some ramshackle abandoned house or two. They ate crappy food and wore secondhand clothing. John was usually drunk, abusive at times. So, Dean does what he does best. He copes by drinking. It starts out innocently at first. He’s always been a beer drinker. John had him guzzling beer by the age of twelve, said it made a man out of you. After high school, he moved on to the hard stuff. Jack Daniels, Johnny Walker Red and Black were his friends. He also befriended a Wild Turkey along the way. His father John drank like a fish after all. Dean thinks that maybe he’s destined to be John 2.0. Drinks were standard fare at business meetings, too. Ten years later, he’s drowning at the bottom of a bottle running from the man he swore he’d never be.
Things come to a head both at work and at home. At work, he has to work longer hours. The pressure’s on to produce more product, get better results,… more profit. At home, Lisa’s on his case. She wants to go someplace nice. They never had money to go on their honeymoon. She wants to go to Paris this summer when Ben’s out of school. She wants to remodel the kitchen and the bathrooms. And, she wants Dean to spend more time with her and Ben. Meanwhile, John’s been giving him the silent treatment because he won’t hunt out of state. So, Dean starts drinking morning, noon, and night.
Dean’s a highly functional drunk. He brushes his teeth more regularly, gargles with mouthfuls of Scope, and chews gum a lot. He learns to hide it well until he can’t any longer. His co-workers can smell the alcohol on his breath. Guess the gum isn’t working anymore. Lisa notices he’s not eating, preferring his liquid diet once he gets home. Ben notices his father’s short temper. And, lastly, his father has noticed. John doesn’t really care one way or another. John’s an alcoholic himself. Dean’s just a chip off the old block. John’s only mad at him because he refuses to hunt out of state. John gives Dean an ultimatum. Go hunting with me or else. Dean doesn’t go, so John up and leaves. He heads up to the Yukon Territories to hunt vamp nests.
Dean starts to crack around the edges. His job performance is sub standard. His marriage is collapsing under it’s own weight. His son is longer speaking to him and his father has run off to the Canadian border. Things are getting pretty bleak.
It’s a bright and sunny morning when the volcano known as Dean Smith explodes. His boss wanted a business report on his desk by ten that morning. Dean hadn’t even started it. Words that should never leave men’s lips are spoken. Loose lips sink ships and all that…
“Dean, where’s the report I ordered?” It’s Crowley, Dean’s boss. He’s a short little British guy with a Napoleon complex.
Dean’s already annoyed. “You’ll get it when you get it, just need more time.”
“More time? You’ve already had two weeks to get it on my desk. I can’t believe you haven’t finished it yet!” Crowley snaps.
“You’ll get it when you get it!” Dean shouts.
Crowley stares at him as Dean’s slamming his office door.
Dean heads out to the bullpen, the area with all the little ‘worker bees’ are. They’re all staring at him.
“What?” He yells annoyingly.
They’re still staring.
“You know, if I had ten thousand bullets, I’d shoot everyone of you motherfuckers!” He yells.
Fuck. What the hell did he just blurt out?
Dean Smith has just gone POSTAL!!!
And, that’s the comment that broke the camel’s back. Crowley can hear the comment all the way in his office. Security is called and Dean’s hauled away to the company’s security office. Crowley’s already there waiting for him.
The security guards tell him to sit on a chair. They say they have to have a little talk. Crowley sits at the desk across from Dean. Dean squirms in his seat. He undoes his green silk necktie. Sweat starts pouring down in rivulets on his back, dark spots of perspiration under his armpits. It’s starting to get a little hot in here. Dean’s already hot under the collar.
“Dean, you been a very good employee all these years. I really like you, so it surprises me when you begin to behave like this.” Crowley says.
Dean starts biting his lower lip. He’s about to be fired so he thinks. Crap.
“That’s why I’m going to give you once last chance to make this all better. You see, your fellow co-workers have noticed a change in your behavior. They can smell the alcohol under your breath, you know.”
Dean gulps. The Juicy Fruit gum ain’t working anymore, neither are the Altoids. He fidgets in his chair. He’s on the verge of a panic attack. There isn’t enough air in the room.
“I too, have noticed. I’m worried about you, Dean. That’s why I’ve arranged for you to take a sabbatical so to speak. I’m sending you to Las Casitas Treatment Center in Topeka. It’s an excellent facility. I sent my own son there, so I highly recommend it.” Says Crowley.
Dean swallows hard. “So, so am I fired? Are you gonna call the cops, get me arrested?” He asks.
Crowley shakes his head. “No, Dean. You’re not fired. You’ll still receive full pay under your benefits. There’ll be no calling the police. We, at Crowley Enterprises, prefer to keep things in house. We deal with our own.” He says.
Dean breathes a sigh of relief. He exhales. He didn’t even realize that he was holding his own breath.
“The van is ready to take you there right now.” Crowley says.
Dean panics. How will Lisa know where he is? How will Ben know where his father is?”
“I, I’m not ready.” He blurts.
Crowley chuckles. “No one is ever ready, Dean. If you prefer, I can have the van pick you up at your house tomorrow morning…Or, if you prefer, your wife can drive you there tomorrow morning.”
Dean likes that idea much better.
“I think I’d prefer if Lisa drove me there. I promise to be there first thing tomorrow morning.” Dean says.
Crowley knows that Dean always keeps his promises…well, except for getting the report in on time. He smiles. “Good choice, Dean. One day, you’ll see that it’s the best decision that you’ve ever made.”
Dean can’t see it right now. All he sees is the clusterfuck his life’s become.
The security guards escort him to his car. Dean sobers up pretty quickly. He drives home, but not before he heads to the nearest liquor store for a bottle of Jack.
When he gets home, Lisa still hasn’t gotten home. It’s too early. She works as nurse at Angel of Mercy Hospital and a part time yoga instructor on the weekends. Dean looks at his watch. Ben’s not even out of school yet. Dean parks the car in their three car garage where his other car is parked. It’s a restored 1967 black Chevrolet Impala. He parks his 2009 Toyota Camry next to the Impala. He gets out of the garage, whiskey bottle in hand. He has the whole house to himself.
Once inside the house, he kicks his dress boots off and sits in his favorite brown leather recliner. One push on the remote and he’s on his way to numbness. He opens his bottle of Jack and takes a swig as he surfs the channels. Dr, Phil’s on, but Dean doesn’t want to hear people bitching and complaining about paternity tests, drinking, and drug problems. He’s got enough grief to last a lifetime. Thank you very much. He turns the channel. Oh, good. There’s reruns of Dr. Sexy on, much better.
By the time Lisa comes home with Ben, he’s halfway down the bottle. She takes one look at him and cringes.
“Ben, go to your room. Do your homework. Then you can watch television. I’ll bring dinner to you in your room.” She says.
“But, I wanna watch tv with dad!”
“Ben. Now!” She shouts.
Ben reluctantly scurries to his room. Lisa puts the groceries she was carrying into the refrigerator. She orders a pizza over the phone. She goes over to confront him.
“Dean, why are you home so early?”
“Uh, hi, babe. I didn’t hear ya come in. Too caught up in Dr. Sexy I guess. This is one of my favorite episodes.” He says as he tries to avoid looking at her.
She turns the television off and stares at him.
He gulps.
“The truth, Dean…tell me the truth.” She folds her arms as she sits on the sofa next to him. Her foot’s tapping on the hardwood floor. Dean knows she only taps her foot when she’s exasperated, usually at him.
“I, uh…I kinda said something stupid at work. Didn’t get canned, though.” He says sheepishly.
“Were you drinking when this happened?” She asks.
Dean looks down at his wedding ring. “Yes.” He whispers.
She grunts. “Unbelievable and yet, believable. I knew this would happen. So, if you didn’t get fired, what’s the consequence?” She asks.
He keeps fiddling with his wedding ring.
“Look at me, Dean. What’s the consequence?”
Dean looks up at her with his big green eyes. “I, uh…I have to go to rehab by tomorrow morning.” He says softly.
“Why does that not surprise me? I saw this train wreck coming a mile away. Do you even realize what you’re doing to me, to your son? All you ever think about is yourself!”
Dean starts crying. Yes, he can be a selfish bastard sometimes, but all he’s ever wanted was to keep everyone happy. That’s hard to do when you’re being pulled four ways to sundown. He can’t keep his wife happy, his son… He can’t seem to satisfy anyone at his workplace. Hell, he can’t even be a good son to his own father. He’s crap and he knows it.
“So, is there a van or something coming to get you in the morning?” She asks.
Dean wipes the tears from his eyes, takes another swig of Jack.
“Was kinda hoping you could drive me there. Your Aunt Ida can take care of Ben. ‘Sides it’s only a thirty minute drive from here.” Dean explains.
Lisa sighs. “Ok. I’ll drive you. What’s the place called anyways?” Lisa asks.
“Las Casitas. It means the little houses. I checked it out online. It’s a huge rehab facility in Topeka. It has a lot of little cottages to stay at. Guess that’s where I’ll be staying.” He says.
“For how long?” She asks.
“I’ll be out in 30 if it takes. Hopefully, not much longer. I won’t be losing any pay if that’s what you’re worried about.”
She looks at him with tears in her eyes. “It’s not the money I’m worried about, Dean. It’s us. I can’t take this much longer. It’s like you’ve put all our lives on hold and you don’t even realize you’re doing it.” She says.
“I’m, I’m sorry, Lisa. I never meant to hurt you or Ben.” He says softly.
Just then, the doorbell rings. It’s the pizza delivery guy.
Lisa gets up off the sofa. “I’m going to feed Ben and then I’m going to bed. Don’t bother coming to bed. I’ll see you in the morning around eight.”
Dean knew that was coming. He’d become quite familiar with the living room sofa as of late.
Lisa goes towards the front door and retrieves the pizza. She goes towards the hallway to Ben’s room leaving Dean to his own devices. Dean stays in the living room and guzzles down his bottle of Jack. He turns the tv back on, minus the volume. Somehow, it’s better to see Dr. Sexy than to hear him. It’s gonna be a long night.
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