All characters are over 18
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Dean's phone vibrated and rang violently on the night stand beside his king size bed. Lethargically rolling over, his half opened brown eyes looking at the time, which read 12:30 in the morning. Cursing anyone that would dare call him at such a late hour when they knew he had to be up in another four and a half hours for work. His hand landed heavily on his iPhone 6s as it slowly crawled across the wooden surface.
"There had better be a good damn reason for waking me in the middle of the damn night," Dean growled into his phone.
"Son?" his father's voice came over the line. Instantly Dean was fully awake. Since he had moved out when he was eighteen they had hardly spoken to one another, due to his choice of marrying the woman he had been cheating with when his mother was still alive. Six month's hadn't even passed since her death when he told his six year old son that she was going to be his new mother. Ever since then, while Dean was sure she was a lovely woman, to Dean she was the enemy to his mother's memory.
"Yeah? What is it that couldn't wait till I awoke in another four hours?" Dean asked growing irate at his father.
"There's been a fire. The house is a total loss," Steven said, his attention diverted by whom Dean could only guess were the kids he had with her. To Dean, they to were the enemy too, it wasn't long after his father brought the woman into their home that the traces of his mother started to disappear. Before she could remove any more of his precious memories of his loving mother, Dean had hoarded what he could in his room. Whenever she or his father tried to remove anything from his room, it was swiftly saved from the rubbish and returned to its proper place. When Dean grew into adulthood, standing his ground, defying them as much as he could when they thought to erase his mother. "I know we haven't talked in six years but I was wondering if we could stay with you until the investigation was done, and for the insurance company to write a check for what we lost tonight."
"You know that is why hotels were invented," Dean said not eager to have anyone of them in his house. A house that he had bought dirt cheap during the housing crisis and he wasn't fond of having them defile his sanctuary.
"That's the thing Dean... we are already here," Steven said, knocking on his front door.
"Fuck!" Dean cursed as he ended the call, wondering how his father knew where he lived. Smacking his forehead, knowing all his father had to do was run his name and social security number through whatever his father used when he was at his precinct to get his address. Throwing on his pajama bottoms that lined his floor, grumbling as he walked through his darkened house. Dean could smell the smoke that clung to them as he opened the door. Holding the door open for them as they filed into his warm home.
"Thanks..." His father began to say before Dean cut him off.
"The spare bedrooms are back there," Dean said pointing towards the other side of the house. "You will have to share a bathroom though," his voice drifted down the hall as he walked back to his room.
His alarm blared in his ear angrily, rolling out of bed knowing the day was going to be draining on his sleep depraved body. Hot water cascaded down his body dislodging the lingering cobwebs of his slumber from his mind. Dean hoped they wouldn't take too long to close whatever investigation they had to do to ensure it wasn't arson. Taking care of his daily routine after he left the warmth of his shower. Dressing in a white dress shirt and black dress pants as he got ready to head into work. Eager for the ten hours he would be away from them, then the thought occurred to him about what they would do while he was gone.
Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Dean's ears perked when he heard the faint sounds of moaning coming from the other side of his house. Setting down his cereal box as his stepmother entered his kitchen. Eyeing the floral robe, noting the price tag that was still attached to the sleeve. Watching her as she moved around the kitchen as he sat down to his breakfast.
"Thanks for making the coffee, Dean," Anna said, pouring the steaming liquid into the mug in her hand. Her green eyes falling on her stepson as he remained silent, watching as he scrolled through his e-mail as he slowly chewed his food. "So how has life been for you?" she asked trying to make small talk. Yet as those eyes flickered over to her, she knew there was never going to be a chance to grow close. "Obviously you're doing well for yourself, given the state of this house," Anna said slipping her coffee while looking around taking in his home. "So? What exactly do you do for a living that has you up so early?"
"IT manager," Dean said not bothering to look up from his phone.
"I thought I smelled coffee," Steven said walking sleepily into the kitchen. Smiling warmly at his wife as she handed him a fresh cup. "Dean, I want to thank you for letting us stay," he said as he poured a few teaspoons of milk into his coffee. "God that's good," Steven groaned as his wife nodding in agreement. "So, while we are here, we thought if there's anything you need done around here, just let us know."
"Uh huh," Dean said after draining the last of the milk from the bowl. There wasn't much that needed fixing and he was damned if he was ever going to ask them for help with that. Dean would rather pay someone to come in a fix the problem then relaying on them. He felt their eyes on him as he cleared off the table, washed his bowl and drifted back to his room to retrieve his briefcase.
"Dean," Anna said as she stood in the doorway to his bedroom. Nodding in approval of the orderly state of the room. "I was wondering... if you don't mind if I did the shopping, seeing how you live like a single man normally does," she said, smiling warmly at him.
"Fine," Dean sighed tilting his head back, praying to whomever was listening for strength to survive this ordeal.
"Now, let me have a look at you," Anna said, as his briefcase slid off his desk. Her hands running along his shoulders, down his arms noting how he had filled out since he moved out. Pulling him in for a hug, her hands running down his back, frowning when his arms remained at his side. Watching him leave, closing his door behind her, wondering if they should bring Dean into their special little secret. "Dean? When will you be home so we all can sit down for a family dinner," Anna asked as his coat slid over his shoulders.
"Don't bother, I'll just grab something on the way home."