It's a terrible life

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Okay so here's a chapter. I'm Leaving it dedicated to @destiel_666_baby because I probably couldn't have written half of the original story without them.

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Dean's POV-

    We finished breakfast and I take Cas and Gabriel home.

    "Dean! Watch the road!" Cas shouts at me, I swerve back into my lane.

    "What's wrong with you?" He demands.

    "I-I Uh." I sigh and shrug my shoulders.

    "Just focus on driving." He says, concern evident in his expression. I nod and take a deep breath. We make it to their house and they get out, thanking me for having them over. I make sure they get inside and I pull away. I don't go home though. I need to think, clear my head. I park in a Walmart parking lot and walk to where I want to go. I don't want to be found for a while. I rummage through my bag until I find what I'm looking for. Whiskey. My dad had given it to me before we went to stay with Bobby this second time. I put it in my pocket and start walking.

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I make it to the park around a quarter til noon. I walk around and eventually find my way into the woods. I wander until I find a place to sit. I pull out the bottle of whiskey and take a swig. It burns going down, but I don't care. I take another swig. That dream was so vivid, it felt so real, but it was just a dream. Wasn't it? I lay back onto the ground and close my eyes. I take a deep breath and another drink. All I can see is Cas' body getting crushed by my car. I feel tears stinging in my eyes. I take a big gulp of alcohol, it tastes like shit but it's making me numb. That's all that matters.

I hear my phone chirp but I ignore it. I don't want to talk anyway. About halfway through the bottle, my vision starts to blur and my head starts swimming. I'm still on my back and soon I'm unconscious.

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It's dark when I finally wake up. My head is throbbing. I'm still laying in the woods. I sit up slowly.

    "Holy fuck." I groan. I pull my phone out of my pocket and I have 17 missed calls and 31 text messages from Sam, Bobby, and Cas.

    "Shit." I say, slowly getting to my feet. I stumble out of the woods and park rangers are patrolling the area. One of them stops me and shines a flashlight at me.

    "Sir? Sir, do you know the park is closed." He says in a nasally voice.

    "Wh- Yeah, sorry I left something in the woods. I was just getting it and getting home." I say as sober as possible. He stares at me with a hard glare.

    "Alright, get outta here." He mumbles, waving his hand at me. I walk away from Ranger Rick, being the good little patrolman he is and head toward the Walmart to retrieve my car. Once I get to my car, I hop in but I don't start the engine. I check my voicemail. Everyone sounds so worried, I get to the most recent one. Bobby called the police. I decide not to call back. I'll wait for my ass-whoopin' when I get home, I don't need an earful of Bobby on my way home.

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I drive up to Bobby's house and there's a police cruiser out front. Bobby's pacing on the front porch, and Sammy is sitting on the front stoop. I pull my car into the driveway and cut the engine. Everyone stops dead in their tracks. I get out of my car and Sam runs up to me, hugging me tightly.

    "Dean! You're okay!" He cries, burying his face into my shirt, still holding me tight.

    "I'm sorry Sammy, I'm so sorry." I whisper, my voice breaking. I look up at Bobby.

    "Boy, where in the hell have you been?! You had everyone worried sick! You think maybe if you want to pull another disappearing act you could at least call and say you're okay! What were you thinking, you damn idjit? I thought something bad happened to you." He started to tear up, he took a deep breath.

    "Just get over here." He said, tears spilling over. I reluctantly walked over to Bobby and gave him a hug. I felt like shit for worrying him so bad and even worse for making him cry. What a piece of shit I am. I let go of Bobby and Sam and go inside to my room. I lay down. I hate to admit this, but I cried myself to sleep.

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Alright guys, here's the next chapter. I'm sorry if it sucks but I'm trying. Thanks for reading!

Don't choke a chicken,

Dan

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