Simple Things In Life

Teddy Bear

Flowers started blooming and birds were beginning to sing. Snow was long gone for a long time and rain and shine stopped by to bring life back. A thunderstorm was being called for on tonight, and I couldn't wait. I sat in Dean's room, sun streaming in through the windows. Things were even more complicated between Dean and I, but I don't think I could be happier. He was 16 now, and so was I.

Summer break meant more time to annoy each other. It meant road trips with Bobby, working on cars. It meant staying up late and giggling like when we were kids. It was needed to remind us to be happy. But this particular day was about to turn sour.

John was coming to visit his boys. That would be the expected thing... But not for John. John wanted something, and he knew he probably wouldn't get it. The man hadn't even called his boys to wish them a merry Christmas or them a happy birthday, but somehow, he still expected his boys to pack up and leave with him.

Bobby argued on the phone with the bull-headed man for hours, but to no avail. So, Bobby bargained; John couldn't force the boys to leave, but they could if they pleased. He knew though. He knew in the end, neither boys would be walking out that door and saying a goodbye.

But that didn't stop Bobby from worrying. Dean had talked aimlessly about possibly going with John again. Dean missed his dad. It was something I couldn't comprehend. Bobby would say it was because it was the only parent he had left; But John was no parent. No parent would put their kids in danger, would make them care for a younger sibling, make them grow up faster than they had to. Yes, it's true that would have grown up some after Mary passed, but Mary wouldn't want them to grow up as much as they did within the small time span. But John was selfish. He wanted closure, revenge; so he put his boys in harm's way.

I guess that's why I don't really respect John. He's a drunk, he treats women horribly; And Dean saw all that, and surely did he pick up on it. I love Dean dearly. He's my best friend, worst enemy, and partner in crime. But he is too much like his father. He drops a girl the second things get serious, he's broken into Bobby's liquor cabinet multiple times, granted I've helped once or twice after a extremely bad day. He's stolen Bobby's car before. But it's Dean. We can only change a person so much, and as stubborn as he can be, it's even harder.

Currently, I laid on Dean's unmade bed, staring up at the peeling ceiling. My eyes followed the fan wings as they spun 'round and 'round. The Playstation hissed some, blowing off the heat from the torturous 8 hours we'd been playing Skyrim. I had fallen asleep about two hours into the game at about 2am, his clock currently read 8:12am. I hadn't made a noise or even turned to look at him yet, so it was unlikely he even knew I was awake. Either way, I closed my eyes and rolled back onto my side, facing the wall.

There were shifts in movement from him, his feet shuffling quietly, obviously trying not to wake me. A huff as he bent over; I could hear his back pop from here, the dim whistle of the playstation fading off. More shuffling followed and his weight as he sat on the bed proceeded that. More shiting and positioning and soon he was laying down, his arm wrapping him me, pulling me back to his now bare chest. I smiled some as I felt him nuzzle the crook of my neck.

"Should I say goodnight or good-morning?" I whispered softly, trying my best to not scare him. The only response I got was him shushing me. My chest was warm and fuzzy, comfortable in his arms as usual. I felt more at home like this then if I was cuddled under my covers alone. It wasn't long until a soft, low snore came from Dean. It caused a smile to form on my lips. I let sleep over come me, knowing I could use more than 6 hours.

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It was dinner, tension in the house thick enough to be cut with a knife. Dean sat with impeccable posture, something that was out of character for him. Chin up, shoulders squared, back straight as a board instead of his usual relaxed slouch. Sam glanced nervously down at his food, playing with it. Bobby was white knuckling his fork and knife. My eyes stayed on John, giving him a daring look. I promised Bobby I wouldn't say anything unless something was said to me, but that didn't mean I couldn't send him glares.