Chapter Text
love;
verb-
feel a deep romantic or sexual attachment to ( someone )
Dean wished it was always that way.
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The sun was set by the time he left the restaurant. Its rays seemed to paint pictures of pretty hues, ranging from light orange to deep purples. But, as much as the boy would like to, he never had time for silly things like noticing the sky anymore. Not with a sickly father and college bound little brother.
Law school. It still surprised Dean to this day just how in the hell a smart guy like Sammy was born into this family of Winchesters. They weren't known for college cousins, aunts, or fathers. Sam would be the first, and the eldest brother couldn't be more excited.
The walk back to the dingy cabin was never long nor was it short. It was about 10 miles, but Dean always took the much shorter route, which was through the woods. He claimed it to be calming; the birds chirped their happy songs and crickets croaked out their own and it made for a loud scene. Not like it bothered Dean, no, but he constantly wished he could stay out for a bit longer.
But he never had time for silly things like singing with birds.
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John never talked much anymore.
He'd mumbled unintelligibly to the point it sounded like some sort of satanic speech. Whether it was from his illness, Dean never bothered to ask the doctors before they came in with their pitiful looks and said, " There's nothing more we can do. "
Dean knew he'd be alone after his father passed. It's not like he doesn't think about the future constantly at home. John would be mumbling something and Dean would think: " What will happen when the mumbles stops? "
Dean was a good kid.
He listened.
Never spoke out.
So why did he feel like he was disobeying his father? It's not like he stayed out too late, but dammit, the boy wanted some freedom.
Freedom from
e v e r y t h i n g
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" Dean, what the hell. "
It was late that night, about an hour after John fell asleep and two after he'd gotten home. Dean decided, what the hell, why not try to make some food on their old ass stove?
Not.
He'd almost burnt them out of house and home. From now on, microwavable dinners. Dean frowned at the burned pork chop he'd picked up on a grocery run.
Right after he ( sadly ) tossed out the pork chop and cleaned the pan, Sam's name lit up his cellphone. His eyebrows shot up he swiped to the ' answer ' icon. Sammy rarely called these days, so of course Dean sounded worried when answering.
" I meant to call and tell you this earlier but since you work, I didn't know and then a law form called- " The youngest Winchester always got chatty when he was excited or upset. Dean hoped that was excitement and not upset stuttering.
" Get to it, Sam! "
" Okay! Sorry, but, me and Jess are getting married! " Dean could hear the smile in Sam's voice.
The oldest brother was happy. But, it meant even less visits or calls.
" Shit, Sammy! Good job! When's the wedding, bachelor? " Dean grinned at his own joke as he threw his socked feet on the coffee table.
" Well, we planned it about 10 months from now. " Dean frowned then. Dad definitely couldn't last long. " What about Dad? He won't be able to make it. " Sam's silence was louder than ever and Dean felt stupid. " Well, we could always put a picture on the grave. " Sam spoke quietly and quickly before clearing his throat. " That's all I called for, Dean, I'll call later when I know more. " And with his clipped off voice, Sam hung up on Dean.
Dean sighed, looking at his phone until the screen darkened. Why did he even bring it up? Dean shook his head.
Well, time for yet another attempt at food.
This time, microwaveable.