Still Alive But Barely Breathing Chapter 2B
Here's the next bit peoples!
“You couldn’t take me when we first met Dean Winchester and you can’t take me now!”
“Is that so?” Dean asked, a smile playing about his lips.
Jo nodded, smugly and folded her arms.
“Oh it is so on little girl!” He said and dove for her. He grabbed at her sides and tickled and Jo squealed, squirming away from him.
“DEAAN!” She yelped squirming away from him, “Duh-duh-deaaaan! Stop it!”
“Nuh-uh,” Dean replied “Not until you agree I’m better than you!”
“Never!” She spluttered as she squirmed out of his grasp. Dean watched as she rolled to her knees and up onto her feet and raced around the car. Dean leapt up, following and grabbed an arm before throwing her over his shoulder. He inwardly winced at the strain put on his ribs, but Jo was shrieking and laughing so Dean twirled around and around until they were both dizzy.
Using his temporary dizziness, Jo smacked his ass and Dean yelped letting her fall to the ground with a thud. Dean followed soon after perching himself over her hips and tickling her ribs until she was wheezing and tears rolling down her face.
“I give,” She said between guffaws “I give! You’re better than me!”
Dean smiled and rolled off her to lie beside her. “I totally am better than you though,” Dean said, grin evident in his voice.
“’Course you are Dean, sure.”
Dean squinted at her again, “Don’t make me tickle you again,” He warned and Jo all mock innocence and remorse and replied,
“Sorry, sorry your highness!” She said and then giggled. Dean’s laugh broke off as he tried to lever himself up off the ground and Jo giggled harder. “You pull something? Huh, from carrying lil’ ol’ me?” She snorted, hand over her mouth to keep the laughs inside. But Dean felt his forehead crease as he winced. He gasped as he tried to get up again and murmured a curse before lying back again. His voice was rough when he said, “Ribs,” and Jo shot up, eyes wide and serious.
“Oh my gosh, I totally forgot! I’ll go get Sam,” Her expression was so comically worried that Dean huffed out a laugh and then winced at the pain.
“Nuh-no! Jo don’t,” He wheezed and reached out to grab her wrist. She knelt down, and leant over him, face serious and mutinous. “He’ll throw a paddy and go mental and I just want-” He broke off and sighed looking away.
“What?” Jo asked and Dean could just tell without looking at her that her face was creased with worry.
“Aw, shit Jo, I just want a few days with a non-nagging, non bitchy little brother who actually talks to me about stuff other than the hunt or, how he’s feeling or how I’m feeling. If you go in there and yell that I’m stuck on the floor he’s gonna blow and my chance at a normal last-” He broke off again and swore. He pressed his hands to his ribs, pretending that the pain had distracted him when really he just stopped himself saying that he wanted a chance at a normal last few weeks alive.
“Shit I’m gonna get Sam anyway,” She said and stood up.
“No,” Dean said frantic and grabbed at her ankle. “Please Jo,” He said, pulling his own version of the puppy dog eyes and sighed in relief when she crumbled.
“Alright, fine, but you’re coming inside with me anyway,”
“Just help me up,” Dean replied and Jo complied, reaching down and gripping Dean’s outstretched hand. He winced when she levered him up and he sagged against her, stretching to grab at the impala for more support. His breath came fast and quick and he could feel sweat prickling along his forehead at the effort.
“And you’re taking some pain pills...you should’ve known better Dean,” Jo says, letting go of him when she thinks he’s steady enough.
“Yeah, well you know me,” Dean replied with a quick smile.
“Come on,” She said nodding towards the house, “Let’s go inside,”
“Promise you won’t tell Sam?” Dean asked pulling the puppy dog eyes on her again and she groaned, rolling her head back and whined.
“Deaaaan, don’t do that,” She grumbled.
“Does that mean you won’t tell Sam?” He asked smiling wolfishly.
“Fine, but no more puppy eyes!” She said pointing a finger at him.
“Cross my heart,” Dean replied. And hope to die.
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While Jo may have kept her promise and not told Sam about Dean’s little paralysed episode outside, she did however take all his alcohol and forced pain pills down his throat whenever possible. And as Sam had turned in early for the night Dean had taken to glaring at her from across the bar where she was serving other customers and making her job all the harder by knocking things over. Dean watched her amble around the room, tray in one hand with beer and shots on it and a cloth in the other. She smiled and laughed at something one of the men said and put the tray down, shaking her head when he offered her a shot. She was a little drunk, but not enough to make her anything other than chatty and happy. She glanced over at Dean who smiled wide and waggled his fingers at her and Jo just rolled her eyes and walked away to another customer.
So feeling abandoned and too alcohol free - although he was feeling a little loopy from all he pain pills Jo had force-fed him - he knocked over another glass of water. When Jo marched up to him at the sound of a glass clunking onto the table, Dean looked up at her all wide eyed and innocent and Jo just grabbed his collar and heaved him out of his seat. The wolf whistles and catcalls that Dean got as he was dragged forcibly outside by the shirt made him grin and he stumbled along playing up to the bar and Jo shoved him outside.
The door shut with a bang and Jo whirled on him.
“Are you trying to be annoying?! Purposely?! Because I hope you realise that I will go back on my promise and tell Sam you were practically catatonic outside today!”
“Aw come on Jo,” Dean whined, “It was an accident. I swear!”
“Sure because, Mr Dean Winchester, hunter extraordinaire is clumsy enough to knock over ten glasses of water!”
“It was only six, and the first two really were accidents!” Dean replied earnestly.
“I don’t even care. I swear to god Dean, you spill another drink, you so much as blink at one of the customers in the wrong way, I will beat your ass!”
Dean pressed his back against the wall of the Roadhouse as Jo pointed a finger menacingly at him. She had gotten closer and closer with each word until Dean had met wall and found himself very close to one Joanna Harvelle. He ignored the voice in his head that was calling for him to push away and forget Jo and her pink mouth but instead he said,
“Kinky,” And watched her shiver as his breath puffed over her lips. She squinted her eyes at him and said,
“You’re just jealous that there are no women to fawn over you and from all the attention I’m getting from the customers,” She replied flicking her hair over her shoulder.
And hell, she was right. Because every time Dean had knocked over a glass it had been to pull Jo away from the men’s leering eyes and the meaty hands that had been about to grab her ass or breasts. He had been jealous. Really, really fucking jealous. And he’d only just realised it. Aw hell. And before he could think better of it he leant down towards her ear to speak.
“You’re right,” Dean breathed and Jo startled because she had only been half-joking, “I was jealous,” And before he could think better of it he leaned back to look at her face and captured her lips in a kiss.
Jo made a noise at the back of her throat and reached up gripping his shoulders, and Dean leant forwards, placing two hands high on her back. He slanted his mouth over hers, licking her lips apart and groaned when she kissed him back. Small hesitant flicks of her tongue against his own which made Dean growl deep and low in his throat. He turned, pressing her against the wall of the Roadhouse and thrusting a leg between her thighs. Jo gasped into Dean’s mouth as she found him pressed against her and she leant up to wind her fingers into the downy hair at the nape of his neck.
As Jo grasped at his neck, Dean gripped her waist and lifted her off the floor and felt her wrap her legs around his hips and rock down against him. He growled and nipped at her bottom lip before breaking off for air and then kiss and suck at her neck.
“Dean,” Jo breathed as he nibbled along her jaw up to her earlobe and bit down gently. “Oh Christ, Dean,” She said and pulled his mouth back to hers.
Dean complied and sucked on her tongue, revelling in the soft sounds of her whimpers and moans, relishing in the way that her body arched towards him when he pulled back teasingly. She growled at him and Dean relented, pulling her mouth to his again and kissing and licking into her once again.
The door to the Roadhouse banged open and raucous laughter could be heard as a group of three stumbled out into the night. Dean pulled his lips from Jo’s with a slick noise and the reality of the situation finally hit him.
This was Jo he was kissing, had pressed up against the wall. These were Jo’s legs that were wrapped so tightly around his hips. Dean shouldn’t be doing this, not with her, not with someone who meant so much to him, not when he only had less than a few weeks left alive.
“Shit,” He said, voice rough and untangled Jo’s legs from around his hips. He placed her back on the floor and stumbled back a step.
“Dean,” Jo began, lips swollen and slick from their kissing. Her eyes were worried, confused starting to look hurt when Dean said,
“Shit, shit Jo, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have,” He took another wavering step away from her and raised a hand and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Dean,” Jo said again, voice a little harder. She took a step toward him and reached out, but Dean flinched away and she stopped eyes shocked. “What’s wrong? Hey I wanted it okay-”
“I can’t-” Dean began again and then took another step away from Jo “I can’t do this, you’re drunk, I’m high on pain meds, now is not the time.”
“It’s not just up to you! What about me? Don’t I get a say in the matter?”
“No, you don’t. Sorry Jo.” Dean said and took another step away.
“Why? Why the fuck not? You want me, I want you, so what’s your fucking problem?” Her voice was angry and her face was confused.
“It was a mistake. Sorry. I thought-” Dean said voice hard, ignoring the way hurt seemed to bloom in Jo’s eyes.
And that look was something he had never wanted to see let alone cause, so Dean Winchester, hunter extraordinaire, Mr- I’m-not-afraid-of-anything-except-the-teddy-bear-from-that-fabric-softener-advert turned around and legged it to the impala like the little whiney ass girl he was.
Which was why Dean currently found himself stumbling down the road away from the bar (god knows how many miles away from Jo and Sam and the Roadhouse) too blind drunk to even consider calling his brother because he could barely walk, let alone drive his baby.
The bartender had chucked him out and not really knowing where the hell he was, Dean had just picked a random direction and started walking. That had been about an hour or so ago and Dean still had no idea where the hell he was, had just been stumbling down the road, mumbling like an incoherent drunk. Which he was. But that so wasn’t the point. The point was that he was a major idiot. The point was that he had just totally and completely fucked himself over by practically ravishing Jo and then telling her she was a mistake. The point was -
“Hey lookit there’s totally a frog at the side of the road,” Dean slurred grinning from ear to ear. He waved his arms, flailing a little as he staggered towards the little frog sat in the grass, which was probably staring at him in horror, fearing for its life.
“Hey dude. You mind if I sit here? Course not you’re a frog, heh, a frog...heh heh...I’m an idiot...do you know why I’m an idiot Mr. Frog? No? I’m an idiot ‘cos I totally just made out with this chick who’s probably gonna beat my ass when I see her next and never speak to me again but that doesn’t really matter ‘cos I’m totally going to hell ‘cos my brother died and I sold my soul and...hey lookit, where’d you go?”
Dean shook his head drunkenly from side to side in an attempt to find his friend. He stood up and flailing his arms in an attempt to stay upright then proceeded to slump back down onto the grass when the world started tilting.
“Dude...” He whined long and high, “I got ditched by a frog...” Dean said to himself, “So not cool...”
And Dean couldn't even get off the floor so contented himself with just staring at the sky. All was quiet, the night was calm and cool and the slight breeze that ruffled Dean’s hair was cool on his hot skin. He could see the stars as he lay back against the grass and blinked dazedly up until the silence of the night was interrupted with a blaring noise. Dean startled, jolting upright at the sound. He floundered for a moment trying to find the source of the sound and then whined, “Duuude. Why’s my ass singing at me?”
It took Dean, in his inebriated state, three repeats of the song to realise that ‘hey that’s totally my phone!’ so in a fumbled attempt, Dean grabbed the black mobile, pressed the glowey button and said:
“Hey phone, what’s up with you today?”
“Dean?!” Sam’s voice barked out loud and brash over the phone.
“Saaaaammy? Sammy s’that you? How’d you get into my phone man?”
“You’re phone, what? Jesus Dean are you drunk?”
“As a skunk, heh...drunk as a skunk...heh heh skunk...” Dean trailed off watching as a bug crawled along his jeans and it took him a while to realise that he was still being spoken to.
“-are you?”
“Duuuude Sammy, hey man how’re you?” Dean said oblivious to the worry in Sam’s tone.
“Dean, where the hell are you? What happened, are you alright? Are you hurt? Are you-” Dean cut him off, grinning as he noticed that the frog had returned and said loudly, “Duuude you came back, thanks man!”
“Dean what-”
“I’m good Sammy, sittin’ here with my frog chillin’ out, shootin’ the shit-”
“Frog? Dean, just tell me where you are man and I’ll come get you,”
“I don’t know where I am man,” Dean replied far too cheerful.
“Well where have you been?” Dean thought Sam sounded way too worried and figured that if he didn’t calm down his head might explode.
“Calm down Sammy, you don’t want your head to explode,” He said and squashed the beetle on his knee. “Ewww,” He mumbled as Sam growled out incredulously,
“Head explode?! Are you fucking high Dean?”
“No,” He replied confusedly, “I’m on the floor,”
“Dean-just-fucking-tell-me-where-you-are!”
“I just picked a direction and went! The impal...impalal...m’ baby’s still at the bar,”
“Bar? What bar, Dean!” Sam’s voice came louder than before and startled Dean, “Dean, what bar?”
“Huh, I dunno Sammy nearest one. Stop talking so loud I’m sleepy...I’m gonna sleep now Sammy, mkay?” Dean said and flopped back onto the grass, he let the phone go and it landed nearby his head so he could still hear Sam’s next words.
“No Dean, do not go to sleep. Jesus, what the hell were you thinking going out and getting drunk. Shit, just stay right there, I’m tracking the GPS in your phone. I’m on my way to come get you.”
“You’re tracking my GP-what now?” He said and turned over to sleep.
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“No Dean, do not go to sleep. Jesus, what the hell were you thinking going out and getting drunk. Shit, just stay right there, I’m tracking the GPS in your phone. I’m on my way to come get you.” Sam said, grabbing the keys to Jo’s car from the table where she’d placed them.
“You’re tracking my GP-what now?” Dean sing-songed over the line.
“GPS, now just fucking stay where you are Dean,” Sam said and when no answer came he swore and switched the phone off. He turned to Ellen and Jo who were both sat with equal looks of worry across from him at the kitchen table. “He’s about eleven miles out in the middle of nowhere sat at the side of the road. Shit,” Sam said, standing up and running his fingers through his hair. “What the hell happened Jo, did you have an argument or-” He looked at Jo expectantly as did Ellen and Jo seemed to shrink in her seat as she mumbled somewhat stoically, “Yeah. An argument.”
“Fuck I gotta go get him,” He said, “You probably won’t want to see him like this. Dean sounded absolutely piss-blind-drunk on the phone. He’s in the cheerful stage right now, and by the time I get him back he’s gonna be irritable and fucking puking everywhere. I swear to god I’m gonna murder him,”
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Dean had fallen asleep and been quite comfortable curled up in the grass when the rumbling of a car propelled him into full, or rather drunken awareness. When Sam stepped out of the car that so wasn’t the impala Dean grinned, toothily and said “Saaaammy, hey, what’re you doing here?”
“Fucking hell Dean!” Sam growled and grabbed at Dean’s shoulder heaving him up off the grass. The world tilted and his stomach revolved and Dean gulped against the urge to throw up.
“Hey watch out for the frog dude, he’s my bestest buddy.” Dean was speaking over Sam, ignorant of the fact that his brother seemed to be about to smack him across the face. He looked up at Sam and saw his lips moving, and it took a moment but Dean finally began to understand what his brother was saying,
“-kill him, I’m going to fucking kill him and burn the body then bring him back and fucking kill him again-“ Dean grinned not understanding who Sam was wanting to kill. So poking his tongue out slightly from between his teeth, Dean beamed and said, “Can I help?”
GODDAMMIT I REALLY REALLY HATE LJ!!!! My chapters are too large apparently, so clicky click for the next part. Ack...
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“You couldn’t take me when we first met Dean Winchester and you can’t take me now!”
“Is that so?” Dean asked, a smile playing about his lips.
Jo nodded, smugly and folded her arms.
“Oh it is so on little girl!” He said and dove for her. He grabbed at her sides and tickled and Jo squealed, squirming away from him.
“DEAAN!” She yelped squirming away from him, “Duh-duh-deaaaan! Stop it!”
“Nuh-uh,” Dean replied “Not until you agree I’m better than you!”
“Never!” She spluttered as she squirmed out of his grasp. Dean watched as she rolled to her knees and up onto her feet and raced around the car. Dean leapt up, following and grabbed an arm before throwing her over his shoulder. He inwardly winced at the strain put on his ribs, but Jo was shrieking and laughing so Dean twirled around and around until they were both dizzy.
Using his temporary dizziness, Jo smacked his ass and Dean yelped letting her fall to the ground with a thud. Dean followed soon after perching himself over her hips and tickling her ribs until she was wheezing and tears rolling down her face.
“I give,” She said between guffaws “I give! You’re better than me!”
Dean smiled and rolled off her to lie beside her. “I totally am better than you though,” Dean said, grin evident in his voice.
“’Course you are Dean, sure.”
Dean squinted at her again, “Don’t make me tickle you again,” He warned and Jo all mock innocence and remorse and replied,
“Sorry, sorry your highness!” She said and then giggled. Dean’s laugh broke off as he tried to lever himself up off the ground and Jo giggled harder. “You pull something? Huh, from carrying lil’ ol’ me?” She snorted, hand over her mouth to keep the laughs inside. But Dean felt his forehead crease as he winced. He gasped as he tried to get up again and murmured a curse before lying back again. His voice was rough when he said, “Ribs,” and Jo shot up, eyes wide and serious.
“Oh my gosh, I totally forgot! I’ll go get Sam,” Her expression was so comically worried that Dean huffed out a laugh and then winced at the pain.
“Nuh-no! Jo don’t,” He wheezed and reached out to grab her wrist. She knelt down, and leant over him, face serious and mutinous. “He’ll throw a paddy and go mental and I just want-” He broke off and sighed looking away.
“What?” Jo asked and Dean could just tell without looking at her that her face was creased with worry.
“Aw, shit Jo, I just want a few days with a non-nagging, non bitchy little brother who actually talks to me about stuff other than the hunt or, how he’s feeling or how I’m feeling. If you go in there and yell that I’m stuck on the floor he’s gonna blow and my chance at a normal last-” He broke off again and swore. He pressed his hands to his ribs, pretending that the pain had distracted him when really he just stopped himself saying that he wanted a chance at a normal last few weeks alive.
“Shit I’m gonna get Sam anyway,” She said and stood up.
“No,” Dean said frantic and grabbed at her ankle. “Please Jo,” He said, pulling his own version of the puppy dog eyes and sighed in relief when she crumbled.
“Alright, fine, but you’re coming inside with me anyway,”
“Just help me up,” Dean replied and Jo complied, reaching down and gripping Dean’s outstretched hand. He winced when she levered him up and he sagged against her, stretching to grab at the impala for more support. His breath came fast and quick and he could feel sweat prickling along his forehead at the effort.
“And you’re taking some pain pills...you should’ve known better Dean,” Jo says, letting go of him when she thinks he’s steady enough.
“Yeah, well you know me,” Dean replied with a quick smile.
“Come on,” She said nodding towards the house, “Let’s go inside,”
“Promise you won’t tell Sam?” Dean asked pulling the puppy dog eyes on her again and she groaned, rolling her head back and whined.
“Deaaaan, don’t do that,” She grumbled.
“Does that mean you won’t tell Sam?” He asked smiling wolfishly.
“Fine, but no more puppy eyes!” She said pointing a finger at him.
“Cross my heart,” Dean replied. And hope to die.
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While Jo may have kept her promise and not told Sam about Dean’s little paralysed episode outside, she did however take all his alcohol and forced pain pills down his throat whenever possible. And as Sam had turned in early for the night Dean had taken to glaring at her from across the bar where she was serving other customers and making her job all the harder by knocking things over. Dean watched her amble around the room, tray in one hand with beer and shots on it and a cloth in the other. She smiled and laughed at something one of the men said and put the tray down, shaking her head when he offered her a shot. She was a little drunk, but not enough to make her anything other than chatty and happy. She glanced over at Dean who smiled wide and waggled his fingers at her and Jo just rolled her eyes and walked away to another customer.
So feeling abandoned and too alcohol free - although he was feeling a little loopy from all he pain pills Jo had force-fed him - he knocked over another glass of water. When Jo marched up to him at the sound of a glass clunking onto the table, Dean looked up at her all wide eyed and innocent and Jo just grabbed his collar and heaved him out of his seat. The wolf whistles and catcalls that Dean got as he was dragged forcibly outside by the shirt made him grin and he stumbled along playing up to the bar and Jo shoved him outside.
The door shut with a bang and Jo whirled on him.
“Are you trying to be annoying?! Purposely?! Because I hope you realise that I will go back on my promise and tell Sam you were practically catatonic outside today!”
“Aw come on Jo,” Dean whined, “It was an accident. I swear!”
“Sure because, Mr Dean Winchester, hunter extraordinaire is clumsy enough to knock over ten glasses of water!”
“It was only six, and the first two really were accidents!” Dean replied earnestly.
“I don’t even care. I swear to god Dean, you spill another drink, you so much as blink at one of the customers in the wrong way, I will beat your ass!”
Dean pressed his back against the wall of the Roadhouse as Jo pointed a finger menacingly at him. She had gotten closer and closer with each word until Dean had met wall and found himself very close to one Joanna Harvelle. He ignored the voice in his head that was calling for him to push away and forget Jo and her pink mouth but instead he said,
“Kinky,” And watched her shiver as his breath puffed over her lips. She squinted her eyes at him and said,
“You’re just jealous that there are no women to fawn over you and from all the attention I’m getting from the customers,” She replied flicking her hair over her shoulder.
And hell, she was right. Because every time Dean had knocked over a glass it had been to pull Jo away from the men’s leering eyes and the meaty hands that had been about to grab her ass or breasts. He had been jealous. Really, really fucking jealous. And he’d only just realised it. Aw hell. And before he could think better of it he leant down towards her ear to speak.
“You’re right,” Dean breathed and Jo startled because she had only been half-joking, “I was jealous,” And before he could think better of it he leaned back to look at her face and captured her lips in a kiss.
Jo made a noise at the back of her throat and reached up gripping his shoulders, and Dean leant forwards, placing two hands high on her back. He slanted his mouth over hers, licking her lips apart and groaned when she kissed him back. Small hesitant flicks of her tongue against his own which made Dean growl deep and low in his throat. He turned, pressing her against the wall of the Roadhouse and thrusting a leg between her thighs. Jo gasped into Dean’s mouth as she found him pressed against her and she leant up to wind her fingers into the downy hair at the nape of his neck.
As Jo grasped at his neck, Dean gripped her waist and lifted her off the floor and felt her wrap her legs around his hips and rock down against him. He growled and nipped at her bottom lip before breaking off for air and then kiss and suck at her neck.
“Dean,” Jo breathed as he nibbled along her jaw up to her earlobe and bit down gently. “Oh Christ, Dean,” She said and pulled his mouth back to hers.
Dean complied and sucked on her tongue, revelling in the soft sounds of her whimpers and moans, relishing in the way that her body arched towards him when he pulled back teasingly. She growled at him and Dean relented, pulling her mouth to his again and kissing and licking into her once again.
The door to the Roadhouse banged open and raucous laughter could be heard as a group of three stumbled out into the night. Dean pulled his lips from Jo’s with a slick noise and the reality of the situation finally hit him.
This was Jo he was kissing, had pressed up against the wall. These were Jo’s legs that were wrapped so tightly around his hips. Dean shouldn’t be doing this, not with her, not with someone who meant so much to him, not when he only had less than a few weeks left alive.
“Shit,” He said, voice rough and untangled Jo’s legs from around his hips. He placed her back on the floor and stumbled back a step.
“Dean,” Jo began, lips swollen and slick from their kissing. Her eyes were worried, confused starting to look hurt when Dean said,
“Shit, shit Jo, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have,” He took another wavering step away from her and raised a hand and ran his fingers through his hair.
“Dean,” Jo said again, voice a little harder. She took a step toward him and reached out, but Dean flinched away and she stopped eyes shocked. “What’s wrong? Hey I wanted it okay-”
“I can’t-” Dean began again and then took another step away from Jo “I can’t do this, you’re drunk, I’m high on pain meds, now is not the time.”
“It’s not just up to you! What about me? Don’t I get a say in the matter?”
“No, you don’t. Sorry Jo.” Dean said and took another step away.
“Why? Why the fuck not? You want me, I want you, so what’s your fucking problem?” Her voice was angry and her face was confused.
“It was a mistake. Sorry. I thought-” Dean said voice hard, ignoring the way hurt seemed to bloom in Jo’s eyes.
And that look was something he had never wanted to see let alone cause, so Dean Winchester, hunter extraordinaire, Mr- I’m-not-afraid-of-anything-except-the-teddy-bear-from-that-fabric-softener-advert turned around and legged it to the impala like the little whiney ass girl he was.
Which was why Dean currently found himself stumbling down the road away from the bar (god knows how many miles away from Jo and Sam and the Roadhouse) too blind drunk to even consider calling his brother because he could barely walk, let alone drive his baby.
The bartender had chucked him out and not really knowing where the hell he was, Dean had just picked a random direction and started walking. That had been about an hour or so ago and Dean still had no idea where the hell he was, had just been stumbling down the road, mumbling like an incoherent drunk. Which he was. But that so wasn’t the point. The point was that he was a major idiot. The point was that he had just totally and completely fucked himself over by practically ravishing Jo and then telling her she was a mistake. The point was -
“Hey lookit there’s totally a frog at the side of the road,” Dean slurred grinning from ear to ear. He waved his arms, flailing a little as he staggered towards the little frog sat in the grass, which was probably staring at him in horror, fearing for its life.
“Hey dude. You mind if I sit here? Course not you’re a frog, heh, a frog...heh heh...I’m an idiot...do you know why I’m an idiot Mr. Frog? No? I’m an idiot ‘cos I totally just made out with this chick who’s probably gonna beat my ass when I see her next and never speak to me again but that doesn’t really matter ‘cos I’m totally going to hell ‘cos my brother died and I sold my soul and...hey lookit, where’d you go?”
Dean shook his head drunkenly from side to side in an attempt to find his friend. He stood up and flailing his arms in an attempt to stay upright then proceeded to slump back down onto the grass when the world started tilting.
“Dude...” He whined long and high, “I got ditched by a frog...” Dean said to himself, “So not cool...”
And Dean couldn't even get off the floor so contented himself with just staring at the sky. All was quiet, the night was calm and cool and the slight breeze that ruffled Dean’s hair was cool on his hot skin. He could see the stars as he lay back against the grass and blinked dazedly up until the silence of the night was interrupted with a blaring noise. Dean startled, jolting upright at the sound. He floundered for a moment trying to find the source of the sound and then whined, “Duuude. Why’s my ass singing at me?”
It took Dean, in his inebriated state, three repeats of the song to realise that ‘hey that’s totally my phone!’ so in a fumbled attempt, Dean grabbed the black mobile, pressed the glowey button and said:
“Hey phone, what’s up with you today?”
“Dean?!” Sam’s voice barked out loud and brash over the phone.
“Saaaaammy? Sammy s’that you? How’d you get into my phone man?”
“You’re phone, what? Jesus Dean are you drunk?”
“As a skunk, heh...drunk as a skunk...heh heh skunk...” Dean trailed off watching as a bug crawled along his jeans and it took him a while to realise that he was still being spoken to.
“-are you?”
“Duuuude Sammy, hey man how’re you?” Dean said oblivious to the worry in Sam’s tone.
“Dean, where the hell are you? What happened, are you alright? Are you hurt? Are you-” Dean cut him off, grinning as he noticed that the frog had returned and said loudly, “Duuude you came back, thanks man!”
“Dean what-”
“I’m good Sammy, sittin’ here with my frog chillin’ out, shootin’ the shit-”
“Frog? Dean, just tell me where you are man and I’ll come get you,”
“I don’t know where I am man,” Dean replied far too cheerful.
“Well where have you been?” Dean thought Sam sounded way too worried and figured that if he didn’t calm down his head might explode.
“Calm down Sammy, you don’t want your head to explode,” He said and squashed the beetle on his knee. “Ewww,” He mumbled as Sam growled out incredulously,
“Head explode?! Are you fucking high Dean?”
“No,” He replied confusedly, “I’m on the floor,”
“Dean-just-fucking-tell-me-where-you-are!”
“I just picked a direction and went! The impal...impalal...m’ baby’s still at the bar,”
“Bar? What bar, Dean!” Sam’s voice came louder than before and startled Dean, “Dean, what bar?”
“Huh, I dunno Sammy nearest one. Stop talking so loud I’m sleepy...I’m gonna sleep now Sammy, mkay?” Dean said and flopped back onto the grass, he let the phone go and it landed nearby his head so he could still hear Sam’s next words.
“No Dean, do not go to sleep. Jesus, what the hell were you thinking going out and getting drunk. Shit, just stay right there, I’m tracking the GPS in your phone. I’m on my way to come get you.”
“You’re tracking my GP-what now?” He said and turned over to sleep.
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“No Dean, do not go to sleep. Jesus, what the hell were you thinking going out and getting drunk. Shit, just stay right there, I’m tracking the GPS in your phone. I’m on my way to come get you.” Sam said, grabbing the keys to Jo’s car from the table where she’d placed them.
“You’re tracking my GP-what now?” Dean sing-songed over the line.
“GPS, now just fucking stay where you are Dean,” Sam said and when no answer came he swore and switched the phone off. He turned to Ellen and Jo who were both sat with equal looks of worry across from him at the kitchen table. “He’s about eleven miles out in the middle of nowhere sat at the side of the road. Shit,” Sam said, standing up and running his fingers through his hair. “What the hell happened Jo, did you have an argument or-” He looked at Jo expectantly as did Ellen and Jo seemed to shrink in her seat as she mumbled somewhat stoically, “Yeah. An argument.”
“Fuck I gotta go get him,” He said, “You probably won’t want to see him like this. Dean sounded absolutely piss-blind-drunk on the phone. He’s in the cheerful stage right now, and by the time I get him back he’s gonna be irritable and fucking puking everywhere. I swear to god I’m gonna murder him,”
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Dean had fallen asleep and been quite comfortable curled up in the grass when the rumbling of a car propelled him into full, or rather drunken awareness. When Sam stepped out of the car that so wasn’t the impala Dean grinned, toothily and said “Saaaammy, hey, what’re you doing here?”
“Fucking hell Dean!” Sam growled and grabbed at Dean’s shoulder heaving him up off the grass. The world tilted and his stomach revolved and Dean gulped against the urge to throw up.
“Hey watch out for the frog dude, he’s my bestest buddy.” Dean was speaking over Sam, ignorant of the fact that his brother seemed to be about to smack him across the face. He looked up at Sam and saw his lips moving, and it took a moment but Dean finally began to understand what his brother was saying,
“-kill him, I’m going to fucking kill him and burn the body then bring him back and fucking kill him again-“ Dean grinned not understanding who Sam was wanting to kill. So poking his tongue out slightly from between his teeth, Dean beamed and said, “Can I help?”
GODDAMMIT I REALLY REALLY HATE LJ!!!! My chapters are too large apparently, so clicky click for the next part. Ack...
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