Title:
Teenage Wasteland
Author: luvspnl
Characters/Pairings:
Dean(18), Sammy(14), John, OCs
Minx
Prompt #10: fear, borrowing, touch
Implement:
hand
Summary:
Dean’s acid trip.
Author's
Notes/Warnings: Song title from The Who. Story idea from
Dean’s comment in the episode ‘Dream a Little Dream’.
Disclaimer: The
characters used are not owned by me. They are owned by the CW and its creator
Eric Kripke.
Dean had no idea how he got home that night.
The funny thing was, Dean was pretty sure he recalled most of the previous night. There’d been a party at…Hot Girl’s house. He’d gotten a little tipsy, which sucked because it’d make driving hell.
And wouldn’t that just be great; when he came stumbling in home, and his dad noticed he was drunk driving.
But he couldn’t remember that.
He did remember Tyler Kwan. Ty had been the life of the party, chatting everyone up and handing out…something. Dean couldn’t remember what it was. He was too busy with Hot Girl.
What the hell was her name?
Anyway, Ty had really livened the place up. More than the beers that were being passed around.
Which is an odd confession, since yeah Dean was tipsy. He’d been pretty tipsy when he got to talking with Ty.
Dean was trying to liven things up too, but for himself. Hot Girl was so into him, but her boyfriend was more into her and so onto them, that it was hard to get even a conversation going.
So Dean was walking around the party and talking to the other girls there. Which was always fun.
He was pretty sure that he’d been…lucky…but he couldn’t remember for certain. Or with who.
So he kind of hoped that he hadn’t.
He remembered feeling a little weird, more than just being tipsy. He wondered what that was.
Dean looked around where he was sleeping. It was his room, the one that he shared with Sammy who – yep, the kid was gone. Unless little brother didn’t sleep there at all. Hard to tell since his bed was already made.
Dean was pretty sure Sam had slept there. Where else would he of slept if he didn’t.
Well, there was the couch, or with Dad if he was willing. But then what had Dean done wrong?
He might have done something bad to Sammy, he didn’t remember.
That thought helped sober Dean up some. Had he done something to Sammy? Oh God, what if he did and then just came back home and went to sleep! What if he didn’t remember where he left Sammy!
Dean got to his feet, fear creeping in faster than lighting and thrice as deadly because where the hell was Sammy!
He rushed to the door, flinging it open and was met with – Voices?
Dean stopped, assessing the presumed danger.
But it was just his dad and…Thank God! That was Sammy’s annoying whine of a voice if he ever knew it.
Dean sighed.
Boy, that was close.
He turned around, heart still pounding slightly but he was calming down and that was what mattered. Dad and Sammy sounded like they might be arguing, but Sammy was fine. Might get swatted if he didn’t reign in his temper, nothing new.
Dean walked back over to his bed, figuring he should get dressed. He wanted to shower, felt like he needed it. Who knew what he’d done the previous might, so it might be a safe bet.
Which made him curious as to how he’d gotten his shoes and jeans off. He still had the shirt that he’d put on last night, but not the jeans.
Oh man! Did he forget them? His dad was going to flip the hell out. Crap!
But then Dean glanced over to the ‘hamper pile’ he and Sammy had made on the unused desk chair, and there they were. Good. Saved his ass on that one!
Feeling even more relieved, Dean took a seat on his bed and OUCH!
Dean stood back up and looked over at his bed. What the hell? He reached back, gently touching his bottom, and damn it!
Dean twisted around, shoving aside his boxers. What the hell? He’d gotten spanked? When?
The bigger question also being, was it Dad, or…should he be worried?
Huh, how to find out? He never thought that he’d be able to completely forget a spanking, but there’s a first time for everything.
He could ask his dad, but what if he hadn’t been the one? Then his dad would be curious as to who it had been, maybe even the why. And what if he checked?! Dean wasn’t a little kid, but he wasn’t 100% at the moment either.
Hell, if he was, he wouldn’t be having this problem.
And if it was his dad, and he didn’t remember why he’d gotten …that… then he’d do it again!
Dean knew he would!
That thought was terrifying!
Not that Dean was scared of his dad. Or a little thing like a spanking. I mean, come on!
Except for the fact that Dean was scared of his dad and practically phobic of spankings.
But no biggie.
He’d just be cool. He’d go out, confront his family and if dad brought it up, which he might, then hell yeah he was sorry. And he’d never do it again! Whatever ‘it’ might be.
So he probably would do ‘it’ again, but he’d remember for the next time!
If dad didn’t mention it, then even better. Dean would just be cautious, watch himself and make sure no one noticed he was being…careful.
Maybe, he’d ask Sammy.
He’d have to be very coy if he did. Sam was tricky. He might use this against him. Hm, he’d have to think about that.
But Sammy was also a good kid. He’d tell him, for sure. He’d a good little brother.
Still, he should just see how things went.
Yeah.
Dean went and grabbed another pair of jeans, a tee-shirt and headed to the bathroom. Maybe that’d help him clear his mind up some.
**~~**~~**
The shower had made him feel cleaner. Dean was glad.
The jeans had been a bitch to put on. Damn it, but it hurt!
Dean tried to walk normal as possible into the kitchen, where Sammy was…doing something.
God, he couldn’t even pay attention! The jeans were being evil on his ass!
“What’s wrong with you?”
Damn his brother for noticing!
“Nothing. I’m fine. Hand me some coffee, will ya?”
Sam kept looking at him and Dean was almost certain that he was about to start talking, but then he just handed him the coffee pot.
Tasted bitter.
“Where’s Dad?”
“Went to get something,” Sam replied, setting down at the table with his bowl of…well, it looked like soup. But soup for breakfast?
“You’re eating soup? For breakfast?”
Sam looked up at him and frowned. Dean had said something wrong. Crap.
“Dude, it’s two o’clock in the afternoon.”
Huh, well will you look at that! Dean turned around, forgetting where the clock was for a second before he, there it was! Yep, kid was right.
“Huh.”
Sam snorted, and then coughed up some of his soup. Served him right.
“When’s he getting back?” Dean asked him, coming slowly to sit at the table with his coffee.
WHOA! That was close. Sit down? Come on Dean!
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Dean looked around, decided to just lean against the fridge there, keep his backside off of any and all surfaces.
“So, Dad?”
Sam shrugged, but then Dean heard the Impala and that one kind of answered itself.
“Now I guess.”
Smartass.
“Smartass”
Sam snorted again. No soup this time. Bummer.
“Oh, and did I forget to mention Dad said he wanted to talk with you?” Sam said, sadistic little smirk on his face, just as their father walked into the house.
Damn that boy!
“Boys,” John said looking over at them.
“Hey Dad! Look who’s up!”
Dean tried to glare at his brother, but his eyes were too glued towards his dad.
The man looked rather…muscular…at the moment.
“Dean.”
“Hey Dad”
“You eat already? I wanna have a look at you.”
Dean’s heart started thumping hard. Why, dad, why! He wanted to yell. Maybe clutch at his bottom.
Thank goodness he was holding the coffee.
“Yeah, okay.”
His dad looked at him for a moment longer, and maybe he could see Dean sweating. Crap, was he sweating?
But then his dad just nodded and kept walking on over to his room, bag of whatever he’d just gotten in his hand.
“Dum dum dum dum dummmmmmm”
“Shut up Sammy,” Dean replied, hoping his brother wasn’t right and he wasn’t going to be heading to his doom.
Better make that a nice, long breakfast.
But eventually, he was done
So he entered his dad’s room after knocking, wondered when the guy wasn’t on the phone as he stopped himself from sitting on the bed and looked over some of the papers placed there.
“Don’t touch anything,” John warned him.
And Dean just nodded, because hello he wasn’t five or Sammy. He was curious, but he wasn’t going to mess with his dad’s research. That’s just crazy.
When John was off the phone he turned and gave Dean a hard, measuring look.
Damn. He sure hoped he passed whatever the hell it was that he was being searched for.
“How you feeling?”
“Um, good I guess. Pretty good.”
“Yeah? That’s good. Take a seat.”
Dean sighed, lowering himself softly onto his bottom, but trying to not look it. It still hurt.
He watched his dad walk over to his dresser, open one of the drawers and pull out-
“Shit,” he mumbled.
“Things coming back to you?” John asked, taking the little baggie of pills and dropping it on the bed next to him.
“Yes sir,” Dean replied. Because he did remember those. Getting them from Ty, taking a few, the weirdo visions. and the incredible time he was having after.
Until, you know, his dad called his cell phone, since it was in the wee hours of the morning; he kind of wanted Dean back home and all.
And Dean let it slip that he couldn’t go home. On account of he didn’t remember where that was or where his car was for that matter. And yes he was drunk, how’d he know? And no, daddy dearest, that wasn’t all. Well, he wasn’t exactly sure, but it had a funky after taste.
“You want to tell me who you got these from? And none of that I’m just holding it for a friend shit this time, got it!”
Dean frowned, wishing he could remember what he had said the previous night. Or what he had done for that matter. But he’d really like to keep it to the same story, seeing as he was pretty sure the sore bottom he was sitting on was indeed because of his dad.
“I was borrowing it?”
“You want to get your ass beat again, son? Then keep at it.”
So Dean told him. And he was pretty sure that not only would he never see another party for as long as they were in that town or as long as he was still in school (you never know which one might come first) but he was also certain the Kwan house was going to be getting a rather rude wake up call.
Figurative, not literally, because it was three in the afternoon now after all.
And, yeah, that ass beating? Hurt more the second time.
Apparently, trying to get the baggie back was a stupid move.
The End.