Normal (Dean Winchester fanfiction) ON HOLD

Chapter Two

We stand in between our halls, the space like a linking dimension between two worlds: mine, and Dean's. I know that if we go into Dean's he has more food. But, if we go into mine, we've got the record player.
"Are you hungry?" I ask him, and he shrugs.
"I could eat," He replies, leaning against the wall.
"Do you want to go out?" I suggest, and he shrugs again. He looks down at himself, and then back up at me.
"I'll have to change," He states, and I shrug.
"I got hair dye on my clothes, I should probably go change as well," I reply.

We go into our separate apartments, agreeing to meet in ten minutes. I change from my stained grey tank top to a blue and green Aztec print tank top, that has navy blue lace down the back. I tie my curled hair up into a high ponytail, and touch up my makeup before heading out, meeting Dean in the hallway where he wears new, not grease stained jeans, as well as a new grey t-shirt and some red plaid. I nod at him as if to say are you ready? and he nods.

We decide on taking his car, the smooth leather of his front seat as familiar as my own skin. There's a tear right beside where my left leg always rests, and I've been pestering at Dean to get it fixed before it rips more. He always just brushed it off, saying it gives the car "character." It gave the car something, alright.

When I asked about the jingling in the AC many weeks ago, he told me the story about how he and his brother jammed Legos down the vent. His face always lights up when he talks about Sam, his face flashing with pride when he tells me about how well Sammy is doing in pre-law, and how great his life is turning out to be.

I have two siblings, one older and one younger. The older is my brother, Ethan. He took care of me when we were younger, since my father died when I was merely 2 years old. When my mother passed when I was 15, Ethan was 20 and he took over custody of me and my younger sister, Penny.

He worked every day, and when I came home from school, he'd be gone so I'd make Penny and I dinner. After eating too many boxes of Kraft Dinner and consuming 30 too many chicken fingers, I decided to learn how to really cook. We had chicken, squash, soups, other vegetables and many other different things. I always let Penny help me, because even though I was 17 and she was 14 when I started to really cook, she always loved helping out her big sister.

I shake my thoughts from my head quickly as we pull into mine and Dean's go-to eating place, the Roadhouse. Not to be confused with the Texas Roadhouse, the chain restaurant. The Roadhouse was a dank place where rednecks and hunters and mechanics hung out after work, picking up girls that showed too much skin, and wears too much makeup.

Dean and I sit down at our usual spot at the bar, so we can talk to the Roadhouse owner, Ellen. Her daughter Jo and I have become good acquaintances over my time at the pub. Job doesn't leave the pub much, curtsy of her mother's strictness, so I only ever see her when I come out to eat.

"The usual?" Ellen asks in her subtle southern accent, her brown yet slightly graying hair falling to her face. She pushes it back with a grumble, her lips drawing up into a smile. Dean nods with a smile, and she turns around, strolling to the bar to get us each a beer. She takes the caps from us and shoves them in her pocket, asking us about how we are and such.
"We're good. Jo working tonight?" I ask, and she shakes her head with a sigh.
"No, she's out with a friend. She managed to slip past me," She says jokingly, a small smile breaking out on her face. "She conned me into letting her go."
I smile at her, leaning forward on my arms as a group of teenagers wandering, louder than they need to be an desperately more rambunctious than called for.

I look over at Dean, and I can see that he's deeply lost in thought. Sometimes, it's hard to get him snapped out of it. Sometimes I wonder if he'll get so lost, he'll never be able to come back to me wit that sunny smile and those green eyes. But he always does, and he just acts as though he didn't space out for a noticeably long time.