BROKEN ⇒ DEAN WINCHESTER

0.1 ⇒ SIMPLE MAN

Of course. Of fucking course her car chose to break down here. She should have never gotten a Prius in the first place. She had been warned, yes, she had. But had she listened? Well, obviously not. Mitch let out an aggravated sigh as she got out of the shitty vehicle and slammed the door shut, walking around to the front of the car and popping the hood. She was immediately greeted by the freaking Niagara Falls of car smoke, the grey substance spilling out of the hood like a waterfall. "Fan-friggen'-tastic." Mitch muttered bitterly.

She then ducked under the hood, attempting to find the root of the problem. And that's when the crunch of gravel, twice one might add, undertire as well as underfoot rang throughout her ears. "Need some help?" A gruff voice questioned. The familiarity of said voice startled the woman, causing her to bang her head into the curve of the metal hood. Mitch popped her head back into view. One look, and she groaned. Dean freakin' Winchester.

"Of course it's you. Will you stop it?" Mitch snapped. Dean sighed.

"This again? Do we have to go through this every time we see each other? I've already said I'm sorry, and pretty close to a million times, sweetheart." Dean said with a roll of his eyes. Mitch slammed the hood shut.

"Ha!" She barked at the man. The nerve he had of even approaching her. "To answer your question, I'm fine. Engine's shot, is all."

Dean cocked a brow. "A shot engine? With this piece of plastic crap, you and I both know you're not going anywhere." He stated.

Mitch scoffed. "Fuck off, Winchester. Go run and play soldier with daddy. Maybe go and overprotect Sammy for the millionth time, I don't really care." Mitch looked around. "Where are they anyways."

With no hesitation, Dean spoke his answer. "They're dead." He said. Her expression softened. Mitch brought herself to look Dean in the eyes.

"I'm really sorry Dean." She said gently, placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder. Dean shrugged it off.

"S'fine. My line of work, ya know? It's bound to happen somehow." Dean said.

Mitch frowned softly. "That doesn't make it any less horrible, Dean."

"I'm fine, Michele. You don't need to worry." He stated. Silence. "So the engine's shot, huh?" Dean spoke up, his attempt of changing the subject.

Mitch cleared her throat and nodded. "Yep. Looks like it." Guilt settled into the pit of her gut. Be civil, Michele, she thought to herself. At least attempt at niceties. You can go back to hating him in just a little bit.

"I can, ya know, give you a ride into town, if you want. I mean, the nearest anywhere is a couple hours." Dean said. Mitch looked over at him.

"Only if it's on your way. Where are you goin'?" She inquired.

"Honestly?" She nodded. "I have no clue. Salina sound okay?" Dean asked. Mitch forced a small smile into her lips.

"Sounds great." Mitch said.

-

A silence had fallen over the Impala, one stretching across the horizon since the last mile marker. One hundred and fifty four miles until Salina.

Not a word had been uttered between the pair of adults, no sir, not one. The tension was so thick you could slice through it with only a butcher's knife. Finally, the silence got the best of Dean and he spoke up. "So. How've you been?" He asked. Mitch glanced over at him with her hazel eyes.

Mitch cleared her throat. "I've been better, I'll be honest. What about you, Dean? How are you doing? Dealing with everything, I mean?" She replied back. Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I'd rather not talk about me, sweetheart." Dean commented. "I'm fine, honestly." Mitch snorted humorlessly.

"Well that's a lie." Mitch said. Dean gave her a look, as if he was questioning how exactly she could tell, or maybe how she knew, the look itself almost daring her to explain. So that she did.

"Your a simple man, Dean. And I know you, no doubt better than you know yourself. I know when your hurting."

"Please, Michele. Just... just drop it." Yet another awkward silence polluted the Impala. "How... how are they?" Dean then inquired warily. Mitch immediately stiffened.

"You've never asked about them before." Mitch said.

"Well, I am now. How are they? I mean, you haven't uttered a word to me about them since you first... you know. And I gave you my numbers. And my dad's. And Sammy's." Dean said. "Thanks for calling, by the way." Dean added on sarcastically. Mitch chuckled bitterly.

"I see what this is." Mitch said.
"What what is?"

"You feel guilty. So you're asking to try and atone for leaving. Apparently that 'for your safety' excuse was a lie. Bullshit." Mitch snarked.

"Do you seriously have to do this? You didn't even tell me what happened. Now who's fault is that?" Dean shot back.

"Um, yours, Dean. It's your fault." Mitch snapped.

"I know you'd like to think otherwise, but I wasn't lying, Michele. Both my father and I agreed that you'd all be safer if I left. So I did." Dean said. Mitch stayed silent. "I was only trying to protect you!" Dean exclaimed angrily, aggravated by her stiff silence. Mitch finally broke.

"I know, okay! I know! I know you weren't lying, Dean! Are you friggen' satisfied, now?" She replied back with equal verve, the anger and venom in her tone bubbling up into her throat. Another silent moment passed. "That didn't make it hurt any less." She said after a moment. Mitch winced when her voice broke at the end.

"I know, Mitchie. I'm sorry. I am, but how long has it been? Twelve years? And I've seen you seven times in that period. When are you gonna get the balls and just tell me, Michele?" Dean questioned.

"Until it stops fucking hurting, Dean!" Michele faced forward in her seat.

"Just shut up and drive."

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Hey! Whaddup peeps? So this is the first chapter of BROKEN DEAN WINCHESTER.

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Alright, later popsicles!

-Angie (progressivelyinsane)