Chapter 1: 000: act one | prologue
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The death of your father was unexpected and took a major toll on you as he had passed from stage three colon cancer. It took you off guard, left you empty and drained for a while. While you weren't aware of how it worked, you knew within progression that things would have gotten a lot worse.
For the first several months of chemo, your father appeared to be doing well. You were more than certain that he beat it the first time, and he did. The positive news that he was getting better each day had lifted your spirits up a bit. Well, the day before your sixteenth birthday, everything goes spiraling downhill.
You don't enjoy talking about your grief or the things you experienced to others. Therapy did help here and there, but you never invested in it entirely. Besides, you had just graduated from film school and planned on staying with your mom until you got your own place.
But there is one issue, you don't like your mom's new husband.
Chapter 2: 001: a warm welcome home
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There are days where you reminisce on things and where they went wrong. Your father passed away, you barely talk to any of your relatives anymore, and now your mother recently married a few months ago. And most importantly, you have two new stepsiblings to deal with while you visit home.
It hurt you to know that your mother never gave you any insight or warning about getting married. You were aware she was talking to someone, but you didn't know it would be Dean Winchester of all people. Dean—who you later come to find out—is your professor's older brother.
Dean is exceptionally wealthy, working as a hunter and detective for serious cases. Shit, outside of those jobs, he still managed to make an extra source of income just from being known. It never clicked that he and Sam were brothers until the last name had rung a bell.
In all honesty, you were happy for your mother for finding happiness; it had been years since the funeral and you didn't expect her to be widowed forever. Yet, the loss of your father was still fresh; he was your world, your motivation to keep pushing through. He was the reason you got into your dream school in the first place. So when you come to stay with your mother after graduating from college, things would never be the same. For either the better or worst.
The house was fairly quiet when you had arrived. Ebra—your younger brother—helps you bring your items into your room. It wasn't a lot as you didn't bring too much with you to college. The space in your room was still tidy and untouched as if you never left home. A wave of nostalgia washes over you as you look around the cozy area. The pictures of you at the zoo with your dad on your tenth birthday, made it feel a lot emotional. For once in your life, it felt good to be home with your mother. No more stress over turning in assignments, no more having to worry about your final grades for the semester, absolutely nothing. Ebra calls your name, interrupting your train of thought temporarily.
You speed walk down the steps, careful to not trip and make a fool of yourself. “Mom?” You call out to the woman entering the house, presumably returning from a trip. Your mother Diana embraced you into a tight, bone crushing hug. For a woman who got on your ass a lot, she sure as hell behaved so motherly now. Perhaps it was the adjustment of dealing with additional kids as well.
Your mom had always been proud of you—always kept pushing for you to follow your dreams of becoming a film director. And the fact that you looked exactly like your father, in this moment there were so many parallels of what could've been. “I'm proud of you. My baby is growing up so fast." She grins at your groan of annoyance, enjoying the fact you hated when she babied you like this. In the midst of catching up, you discover the photos hanging on the coffee table of her, Dean, Ebra, A’liviah, and Dean's kids smiling together. There were so many photos of them that it outnumbered the old pictures of the family you grew up with.
"....You'll love him, [you]. He's a lovely man. Strong, wise, genuine….” You know she's searching for ways to convince you to give Dean a chance to be a part of your life. Were you ready for this new change? Fuck no. You trail into the living room again, having to endure her blabbering about Dean. Dean this, Dean that. You never got to hear about how she's doing without her mentioning her husband. As on cue, the front door opened as two kids had rushed inside with their backpacks on their backs, and boxes in their small little hands. They rush upstairs with excitement, eager to play with their new toys their dad got them.
"That doesn't mean now!" Dean's voice calls out to them, and a deep sigh falls from his mouth.. He had just picked them up from his ex-wife's house for Thanksgiving break. Apart from Christmas and summer time, it was the only time he was able to see them. Work was his top priority and his schedule had always been booked and busy. Closing the front door behind him, your step-father hangs up his coat on one of the fancy hooks installed. It grated your nerves on how he made himself comfortable in the home—your childhood home that was built by your father.
Dean greets your mother with a passionate kiss, his lips mumbling things into her ear that you aren't able to decipher. Dean lets his arms drop to his side as Diana heads into the kitchen to start on dinner. Dean flashes you a smile, lending out his hand for you to shake. Skeptical at first, you switch between his face and hands. You had to admit, your mom scored big with this one. Anyone would have killed to be with him, especially with how well-known he is. Where did she find him? Better yet, how much does he know about you?
“Pleased to meet you. Diana never stops talking about you.” His voice is surprisingly laid back and deep. Attractive would've been a bit too far, but who were you to talk? For someone who was close to his forties, he didn't look a day over twenty-five. You had a feeling that he had toned it down to be professional and not outgoing and expressive. You finally return the gesture, feeling his hand shake your own firmly. “Yeah. Same to you, I guess.” You replied, eyeing him warily, not too keen on keeping the conversation flowing. “Nothing but positive things, of course.”
He lets your hand go after a while; the warmth of his touch disappears from the lack of contact. There's not much to say to him— not much to add on either. Avoiding making things a lot more awkward and tense, Dean excuses himself to check up on the two young children upstairs.
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“So….your thoughts?” Diana asks as she stirs the pot of spaghetti, the scent attacking your nostrils. Your stomach growls from hunger as you lean against the counter, observing her from your spot. You suck your inner cheek in, debating whether to be honest, or give her an answer that she'd want to hear. Arguments always surfaced whenever you didn't lie to her face, always started when you gave her a reality check. It almost never ends well; she could be so…delusional at times.
“He's okay.” Was the only response given. No reason or explanation why, just a short and straightforward answer. “Just okay?” Diana raises a brow. There wasn't enough interaction to give you an idea of what your first impression of him was. “Yeah, he's okay.” You repeat once again, standing firm on your statement. “Chill, laid-back—said you were rambling about me nonstop, etc.”
You could hear him in the living room laughing with Ebra about some stupid show your brother's into. You aren't exactly sure why you were annoyed by the mention of him. Give him a chance, she said. Get to know him, it hasn't been easy for him lately, she also said. Yet, it hadn't been for you but here you are. You suck in another breath as Dean enters the kitchen moments later.
What a start.