Chapter 2: The Game (Bad Idea)

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"Fuck you, Winchester."

Turns out, Jackson's car was in the shop so he had to get a ride with Dean. He seemed to love the Impala well enough. After giving some vague directions (turn right... Now. And now go forward.), they finally made it to a small apartment complex.

After parking in an empty spot, the two climbed out and Jackson gave him a grin from over the top of the car, "Alright, shall we head on inside?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded and followed the other up some stairs, twisting down a little hall between the apartments to get to a door. While there were flowers or a sign with someone's name outside some doors, Jackson had nothing. It was like no one ever lived there.

The Winchester went inside when the waiter opened the door and took in the small area. There was barely anything inside. Sure, there was a couch and a tv, a dining table across from them tucked near a corner, a nice kitchen that was decently sized, and a hall that lead to the rooms, but there were no pictures hanging. It was almost as if Jackson had just moved in but, from the way the man interacted with people at the diner, Dean knew he had been here for quite a while.

Why were there no pictures?

Maybe he was all alone so he never had a reason to put up pictures.

Maybe.

"It's homey," He said, knowing that it wasn't what he wanted to say.

Jackson seemed to notice that, if his wry smile was anything to go by, "I guess. Come on, I'll show you your room and then we can get your stuff from your car."

"Yeah, okay," Dean nodded and followed the other down the hall. His room, apparently, was the first door on the left and it looked like a hotel room. That is to say it didn't have any pictures, too, and the comforter and bedsheets were a plain white. He took a little walk around the room before turning back to Jackson, who was leaning against the doorframe, "Dude, thank you. This is more than I could ever ask for. Are you sure you're okay with it?"

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't have offered," The black-haired man grinned. "May was right when she said I was stubborn."

"You and May are close," Dean said, making his way over.

"Yeah, she's like the younger sister that's able to beat my ass that I never-ever wanted," He shrugged with a laugh in a what-can-you-do manner. "Come on, let's get your stuff outta your car."

Twenty minutes later and both men were setting up the Winchester's room, making snide comments here and there whenever either of them came across, or said, anything embarrassing. They seemed more comfortable around each other despite only having met a couple hours ago and both were finding that they enjoyed the other's' presence.

Dean hadn't' felt this comfortable with someone since Sammy left. He had to shake his head when the thought of his little brother entered his mind. He waved off Jackson's concerned look and bit his lip. Sam chose to leave because he wanted a new life. Now it was Dean's turn to make one for himself.

"You know, Dean," Jackson looked over at the Winchester as he folded one of the hunter's shirts, placing it on the bed. "I've only been in this area for 'bout six years," He sat on the bed, looking out the window that overlooked the parking lot outside of the apartment. "It was hard, you know? I traveled on my own for about a year before I got here. See, I was avoiding my family. I was just- I guess I was just tired of seeing them fight all the time," He looked over at Dean, his green eyes bright. "I always thought that maybe it wasn't the right choice, that I shouldn't have turned my back on them. Then, I came here and met this man who convinced me that I had done all I could, that I couldn't control my family and that I shouldn't let them control me."

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