my hands are shakin' [closed // in-progress]~

[ribellarsi]

WHO: Sam [ribellarsi] and Dean Winchester [canecieco]
WHAT: Relieving some tension in the Winchester household aka bitching each other out until there is some sort of breakdown. [It's canon!]
WHERE: ~*~*Winchester Bachelor Pad*~*~
WHEN: Day 79.

Comments

[canecieco]

He had been out all day. Whether it be a meeting, whether it be ordering around his soldiers, whether it be at the diner, at the shipyard, at the strip club to blow off steam, anywhere, but home. The apartment might as well have been the fucking lair with flames coming out whenever Sam opened his fucking mouth. It was worrying about this, worrying about that, and he didn't have his priorities in order. Of course, their family -- their flesh and blood -- was important. This is what Dad would have wanted

[ribellarsi]

"Yeah, I'd say that's a pretty good question," Sam said tersely. His walk over to Dean was stiff and his movements were measured, anger bubbling up under the surface of his annoyed facade when he saw the clumsy movements and he could practically smell the germs from whatever club he'd frequented that night.

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but shut it quickly, jaw tensing. His fists tightened from where they were folded across his chest and Sam took another step forward, just close enough that their height difference was something that you could notice if you stared and just enough that Sam could lord over him a little, not that it ever actually worked.

"Is this how it's going to be? You come home drunk from some bar every night or you go out to do work -- shooting people, Dean. That's what you're fucking doing-- but that's not the point," Sam said. "You think this is what Dad meant? Do you think this is what he wanted for you?"

[canecieco]

And here comes the motherfucking wall of China to block his way, to be in his face, to act like his grandmother, and tell him what to do. Dean glared up at his brother, mouth shut straight, tight, and he'd punch him a good one, but that -- nope, had to keep his cool, had to keep his head above water.

Scoffing, he pushed his way past Sam, bumping, brushing shoulders, and flopped down on the beauuuuuutiful couch waiting for his hot ass. He lay there on his back, hands behind his head, and shot a glare at Sam who was still being a nasty bitch.

"Are we done?" He replied sharply.

[ribellarsi]

"Do you think we're done?" Sam said with an annoyed set to his mouth. "Where the hell has your head been lately?"

His body was too restless to even think about sitting down adjacent to where Dean was sprawled out; boneless and drunk and everything Sam absolutely detested about how his brother could be. He knew this was Dean covering something up. Dean being an ass to save face like he even needed to around Sam.

Sam's heart pounded harder with even the thought of Dad and what he was doing to this family without even being there. Just like always. Devastating, almost, in his complete disregard for his real family; too caught up in the politics of this completely fucked society to give a damn that his oldest son was slowly driving himself into the mud.