“Dean. Come on, get up. We need to get going.” The truck was packed, had been for some time now. The only thing left was to haul Dean`s lazy(and possibly intoxicated) ass off of the sofa; his home ever since Sam went gallivanting off on his own. Normally he was quicker getting back on his feet than this, but with everything that had been happening lately Bobby couldn`t blame him. Someone could only take so many hard blows before they crumbled.
But not Dean, not after all of the time and attention Bobby had poured in to him. He wasn`t about to just sit and let this kid drink himself to death. “I said get up. We got another tip on that lamia and need to get out there before the trail goes cold.” No signs of life. “Oh come on, I can hear your liver screamin’. Don`t make me flip you off the couch, I`m gettin’ too old for that.”
Nothing more than a grunt for an answer, the man kicked his leg and turned in to himself a bit more. He was like a full puppy without the promise of growing in to something more useful. “Fine, have it your way.” The words came out in a defeated sigh, Bobby moving to stand behind the couch, centering his weight, and tipping the sofa forward so that Dean had no where to go but down. If it came to it there was a bucket of cold water with the eldest Winchester`s name written all over it.
Jesus Christ, was one nap too much to ask for?! Fuck. Today was going to be a bad day. You’re supposed to start the day off with a cuppa Joe, not a faceful of floor. When he was on his feet again, Bobby was gonna get it.
Ugh, Bobby. As he was getting older, he was getting to be more and more of a nag. Every other thing out of Bobby’s mouth was some sort of nagging. “Get yerself cleaned up, boy,” or “You drink too much,” or something like that. It was always something. It’s not like Dean expected sympathy. Not that the situation called for sympathy or anything.
Whatever.
Dean groaned into the floorboards. He turned his head and howled at Bobby, “I’m up!” before hoisting himself up. He glared at him for a second before sitting down on another chair across the room and rubbing his head.
“Damn it, Bobby! Wasn’t there a better way to get me up? Like, maybe with the smell of a good breakfast?”
Ganking the stupid lamia was the last thing on Dean’s mind as of late. He’d never admit it, but deep down he almost wanted to let it go. He didn’t want to put in the effort of killing it. On the other hand, ganking the lamia would be a good way to get his mind off things and do something productive.
Damn. The things he’d do for a good cup of coffee right now. Dean rubbed his head and sighed.
That’s my table, son. I’ll let it slide, though, seeing as I’m feeling nice today. How are you? It’s been a while.
I’m good, Missouri. Just peachy.
And hankering for some of your home cooking!
/raises an eyebrow
Oh… uh, hi Missouri… uhh, ma’am.
Don`t be so cocky. She`ll wait until you have your guard down to beat you black and blue with a cooking spoon.
Sounds like you know from experience!
She`s gonna have your ass if she knows you`re doing that, Dean. I won`t protect you.
She already knew I was gonna do it, Dad.
And nothing yet. B)
