Fic: Signature
Title: Signature
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG
Character: Dean
Prompt: found_fic_spn 08
Disclaimer: I own the DVD's, not the show.
Summary: WIAWNSB tag. Dean explores his new life.
Dean wandered around the, no, his apartment after Carmen left. This was his life now, he needed to know how Dean Winchester lived it. He knew he had a hot nurse girlfriend, a dead, softball-playing dad, a mother he should visit more often and a brother he didn’t get along with. His mom said he worked at a garage, and he was pretty sure either he played the guitar or Carmen did. Dean wondered if he was in a band.
His search through the mail yielded nothing but bills, magazines and junk mail. His wallet held a Kansas ID, a photo of Carmen and a couple of credit cards. Wrapped around the Mastercard was a receipt for hair dye and bath pearls. Apparently, this Dean Winchester was the kind of guy who bought his girlfriend bath pearls. This Dean Winchester was the kind of guy with credit cards in his own name.
Dean ran his thumb over the raised letters that made up his name. Dean M. Winchester. This was his credit card, not Hector Afromnian or Siegfried Houdini’s, his. This was his wallet, his mail, his apartment, his life. This was his chance to have all the things he’d told himself he didn’t want and he needed to do this right. He needed to make up with his brother and figure out where he worked. He needed to practice signing his name on credit card slips.
Good deed for the day?
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG
Character: Dean
Prompt: found_fic_spn 08
Disclaimer: I own the DVD's, not the show.
Summary: WIAWNSB tag. Dean explores his new life.
Dean wandered around the, no, his apartment after Carmen left. This was his life now, he needed to know how Dean Winchester lived it. He knew he had a hot nurse girlfriend, a dead, softball-playing dad, a mother he should visit more often and a brother he didn’t get along with. His mom said he worked at a garage, and he was pretty sure either he played the guitar or Carmen did. Dean wondered if he was in a band.
His search through the mail yielded nothing but bills, magazines and junk mail. His wallet held a Kansas ID, a photo of Carmen and a couple of credit cards. Wrapped around the Mastercard was a receipt for hair dye and bath pearls. Apparently, this Dean Winchester was the kind of guy who bought his girlfriend bath pearls. This Dean Winchester was the kind of guy with credit cards in his own name.
Dean ran his thumb over the raised letters that made up his name. Dean M. Winchester. This was his credit card, not Hector Afromnian or Siegfried Houdini’s, his. This was his wallet, his mail, his apartment, his life. This was his chance to have all the things he’d told himself he didn’t want and he needed to do this right. He needed to make up with his brother and figure out where he worked. He needed to practice signing his name on credit card slips.
Good deed for the day?