Chapter 2: Memory Lane

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- Dean woke up to his best sleep for the past two and a half years; he has a comfortable bed to be able to lay on, no undesired background noises, no groaning men from their latest injuries, just peace and quiet - or at least until Charlie burst into his current room and bounced on his side until he opened his eyes and mouth to yell "What the hell!? Get off of me!"

- Charlie grinned and did as told before saying "Me, you, coffee. Now."

- Dean shook his head and slumped back down. Sometimes Charlie can be somewhat demanding. Just sometimes.

- "I would love to have a proper morning for once; and proper isn't going to a cheap coffee shop and drinking something that I'm not even a complete fan of. Go by yourself, I'm sleeping in."

- Charlie smacked his arm and stood up to smack his leg instead. Dean snuggled closer to his pillow, which smelt like strawberries, and continued to ignore Charlie's continuous smacks.

- "I want you to meet Dorothy! C'mon, Dean, you're like my big brother that I never wanted, you have to meet her!" Charlie whined.

- "I'll meet her tomorrow or something, Charlie. I have to get up sometime, take a two hour shower, and get to Bobby's auto shop to start working; I can't live off my parents finances for the rest of my godforsaken life."

- "You can do all of that after we go get coffee and you talk to Dorothy," Charlie commanded, "You love me enough to do that, Dean."

- "Why do you want me to meet her so bad?" Dean asked while giving in to her wishes and slipping on a clean shirt and running his hands through his dirty blond hair to try and tame it.

- "I never had a dad to be protective over me, Dean, and in a way you've always been a father figure to me. I want your opinion on her; but just to warn you, even if you say no I'm still going to be with her. I don't listen to jackasses like you!" Charlie yelled and skipped out of his room as if she's riding some invisible horse. Dean could just vaguely see the look of confusion, yet amused look, his mother was giving Charlie.

- Dean laughed at his best friend and slipped on a pair of worn out jeans, along with his boots and brushing his teeth although he won't need it after drinking the coffee. Why Dean let her talk him into it, he doesn't know.

- The Impala was already started and Charlie sat in it with her feet, which Dean will cut off, on the dash and tying her Doctor Who high tops. Dean somewhat remembers her lesson on fandoms, ships, and whatever the hell Destiel is.

- "Hey Charlie, you taught me a whole bunch of shít about TV shows and such at one point; I remember you mentioning somewhat called Dea - stail - Dastel?"

- Charlie rolled her eyes and began her explanation, "Destiel, and it's my OTP."

- "What's the Dastiel - Destiel - thing all about?"

- Once again, Charlie rolled her eyes at her best friends lack of knowledge. 'The fandom is just too complicated' she would say.

- "Dean and Castiel, Destiel. It's a ship, and my OTP, which you should remember, and I WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP! Anyway, I'm just really hoping it comes true someday since you're back."

- "Who's Castiel?" Dean asked, confusion pondering on his words. "This is more confusing than braiding your hair."

- "Castiel is a friend of mine, and I swear you two would be perfect for each other. He's really nice and is, ironically bisex -"

- Dean nearly choked. "He!? Charlie, I'm not gay! It's like Sherlock and John! He's Sherlock and I'm John! I am not gay!"

- "Dean, John is so gay for Sherlock, you little minded STUPID IDIOT! Sherlock is gay, John is gay. Why can't they just have sex already, save the fangirls some dreaming."

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