Redemption

Chapter 2

The wind blows, cooling Dean’s blistering red hot skin, sweat drops one by one down his neck, soaking and damping his skin. The sun roars above him, blinding any preying eyes, illuminating the garage in which Dean works heavily on a big red Toyota truck.

He swipes his forehead; trails of oil mark his sun-kissed face. His heart beats rapidly as his body works hard to finish the job; his stomach grumbles in hunger, causing him to grasp the car as he suddenly becomes nauseous.

Groaning, he swears and turns around to take a gulp of water, hoping to smooth down his hunger for a couple more hours. His stomach has other plans as it grumbles even louder—demanding food at once.

“Not now, damn it!” He pulls at his hair, frustrated and hungry all at once. “A couple more hours and I’ll get to eat.” Dean shakes his head and heads back to working on the truck.

But what will I eat, Dean thinks, there’s hardly anything left. Once again, he curses under his breath and forces his weak body to keep fighting—for the sake of his brother.

Sammy, he thinks, he doesn’t deserve this life. Dean won’t let his brother face hunger, won’t let him feel his stomach twist and scream for food. He will have a better life, he will go to college. Anger cruises through his veins, if only his father had still been sane, if only he didn’t turn into the bastard he is today, he thinks, we wouldn’t be here.

Rage fuels him to continue, pushes him to work harder and harder—not caring about the effects it causes to his body.

“I made mom a promise, one I will not break.” Dean stops and signs, jaw clenching.

“Mom” he whispers in pain, closing his eyes, he stops the flashbacks before they can come. His eyes burn but he blinks his unshed tears away. Dean cannot afford to become emotional at this point in his life, he must get he’s emotions on check.

Once again, Dean wipes his forehead with his arm, cleaning off the sweat gathered on his face.  He looks up at the blazing sun for a few seconds before heading straight back to work.

------------------

The music blasts loud in Castiel’s ears, the smoothing sound of The Beatles helps him keep his cool. His dirty red converse pound against the concrete below him, his flannel shirt flaps in as the wind breezes—cooling him. He stops and checks his watch, wondering where he was.

Castiel purses his lips and wonders if he should call Meg or not, then thinks better of it. Knowing her, he thinks, she’d make fun of me and will bring it up every chance she gets. He digs in his back pocket, searching for the paper he wrote the address on.

Grunting, he pulls out the piece of paper and opens it, reading it once more before he looks around. Squinting his eyes, Castiel finds the street he was looking for and begins to make his way. His iPod changes songs and Scorpions begins to blast next.

Bobbing his head, he crosses the street and sees the mechanic’s garage he was searching for. Castiel smiles to himself and hums along to the music in his ears. Once again checking his watch, he sees he’s just on time to pick up his truck.

He stops once he reaches the shop and pokes his head around, searching for an employee. Scrunching his eyebrows, he follows the sound of Kansas being played in the back and stops.

Nodding his head and singing along, was a tall build man. He had golden brown hair that glowed pure gold when under the sun, his sun kissed skin was covered in oil—not a single part of his body was oil free. His brown boots pounded on the garage floor, matching with the beat of the music.