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."
"Now, Dean that's not very becoming of you," his father said making himself at home in his recliner. The remote to his 60' flat screen in his hand, to Dean it appeared his father wouldn't be heading into work.
"4:30," Dean said closing the door behind him.
"Honey? What are we going to do? I don't think he will let us stay here forever," Anna said lowering herself into her husband's lap.
"I don't know dear for now we need to keep that from him. I doubt he would approve of our life style," Steven said his hand rubbing the small of her back.
"But what if we brought him into to it?" Anna said playing with his salt and pepper hair.
"Brought who into what?" Camilla asked as she entered the living room rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her auburn curly hair askew from her fitful rest, her hazel eyes taking in the strange surroundings realizing where she was at. "Oh, right, the brother that doesn't want anything to do with us," she said with a hint of scorn. When Dean was still living with them she always watched him, silently falling for her brother that protected the memory of his mother when no one else did. While at the time, she didn't understand why he cared so much about things that to her seem so trivial. She had moved into his room drinking in his scent that still lingered in his room. Rearranging the room to her liking that was when she had found the photo album that he had hidden away. Flipping through the book, a woman she never seen before filled the photos, Camilla ran her fingers over the woman's face. Thinking how beautiful his mother was, then seeing the object's that were within her possession. She gasped, finally realizing why those odd trinkets meant so much to him. They were the last connection he had of the woman that brought him into the world.
A single tear ran down her cheek, falling onto the plastic covering that protected the pictures. Wondering how his own parent, couldn't even see that. It wasn't until later that she had learned of her father's indiscretion with her mother. Thinking back, no wonder she always saw the hate in his eyes as they took over the home that once radiated his mother's warmth. Camilla had scanned the photo's into her computer loading them onto a USB stick. Always keeping it with her thinking if he ever showed up she would have presented him with her gift. Now that they were there within his own home feeling those old emotions resurfacing. Camilla wondered how he would react when she handed him the jump drive.
"What time is it?" her brother said groggily as he walked into the living room in only his boxers.
"Almost six," Anna said rising from her husband's lap noting the scratches she had given him the night before. "Mark? You can't walk around like that any more... we are guesst here, so when I go shopping, I'll pick you up some pajamas."
"Ah, come on mom, I'm sure Dean doesn't care," Mark huffed crossing his arm's across his chest.
"Your mother is right son, we have already seen how he reacted to us being here this morning," Steven said, palming his daughter's ass. His middle finger running along her cotton panties that covered her slit. "So, let us try to not encroach upon your brother any more than we already have."