Addiction
A friend had taught him how to make chili a couple of years ago and he wanted some, so he was going to do what he seldom had the time to do...cook.
Watari was putting away the groceries, chasing the teens away from the chocolate after giving them each a bar to nibble on.
Dean hauled in the last load and began helping to put up the rest of the groceries. Watari noticed several baked pies in one bag, but most of what the hunter selected were meats, vegetables, fruits, seasonings, and dairy products.
“Leave that package in butcher paper out, Watari. I'm cooking tonight. There was a guy in the butcher shop of the market who had a deer butchered. We got to talking and he offered me a couple of pounds of chopped venison for stews and chilies. I offered to pay him for it, but he said he had plenty. This being Texas, I found some Wick Fowler's. I'm gonna make chili. Let it simmer awhile. We'll have rice with it. But I'll have chopped onion, grated cheese, and some corn chips if anyone prefers it that way. I hope Sam wakes up and feels like eating. He would love this.”
"We might could talk the others into trying some of it." He left the venison out and helped put the produce away.
“Do they eat anything besides sweets? It seems to me that it would be really bad for you. I like my unhealthy foods but I don't live on sweets.”
"They will eat one normal meal a day but are very very finicky on it. The sweets..for some reason..they metabolize it differently than you or I do. L likes to say it's due to the amount of thinking they do."
Dean thought it was odd, but didn't go any further on it. He took two tins of tea he found in the foreign foods section of the market. He was surprised when he stepped inside to see the diversity it offered. The manager said they had a lot of foreign residents and catered to their desires as well as the locals' needs. He handed an Earl Grey and an English breakfast tea to Watari. “It's imported,” he murmured, embarrassed suddenly.
He smiled. "I appreciate it. We all love our teas."
Dean nodded, not telling the man that he had gotten the teas for him because he felt something akin to family with him. He smiled and mumbled something about never tasting it before. His Dad believed in strong coffee, sodas, and the hard stuff. Dean used to sneak in milk for Sam.
The two worked together to get the kitchen ready. Watari sighed, stretching a bit.
"You look tired. Maybe you ought to get some rest. Take a nap. I'll call when dinner is ready. Venison takes a while to get good and tender."
"I have some work to complete," he rubbed the back of his neck.
Dean pulled out a kitchen chair. “Sit down for a minute?”
He laughed softly and followed the young man's instructions.
Dean asked where his room was, and went in search of something. He was back a few minutes later with a med kit , and asked Watari to remove his shirt.
He complied, jacket and shirt being laid on a chair.
Dean removed a large tube from the kit. “This does not burn, and it's not greasy. It has a pain reliever in it that goes into the muscles and tendons in the body, and helps the joints ease. I have a doctor friend who gets it for me. I wouldn't be able to afford if it wasn't for him. It costs a pretty penny.” Dean removed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his buttoned down shirt. He started with the lower back, looking for knots and began to work the ointment into Watari's back forcing the knots to relax. He slowly worked up the man's back, working each knot. He checked his arms for swelling or knots and workedwhere pain seemed to be. Finally, he started on the shoulders and the neck. “Some of this is not muscle but rheumatic pains are just as bad, and it helps joints. If you need your legs and feet done, let me know.”
"Thank you so much," he said with a soft sigh of relief.
“If I'm around, don't sit there and hurt, okay?”
"I appreciate it a great deal, Dean. Getting old is not an enjoyable experience at times."
Mello smiled in the doorway. "You're not old, Watari, just more experienced."
Dean smiled also, and picked up Watari's shirt for him. “I agree, Mello. I, for one, can't afford for him to get old. I need him, and I imagine you do too. Damn it, I'd miss him if he wasn't around.”
"Same for all of us."
“Yeah, I would think so. Don't grow old to quickly, Watari.”
He laughed. "I am trying not to."
An emotion Watari didn't recognize was in Dean's voice as he said, “Good.” The hunter turned and began getting the venison ready to brown.
Mello went on to his work, and Watari began to help Dean with the cooking.
Dean worked skillfully, and quickly. He had a pot with seasonings, tomato sauce and the meat simmering slowly. He was shredding fresh cheddar, laid out tortilla chips, corn chips, sour cream, sliced avocado, and a bottle of ketchup. He had rice cooking in a pot. He hummed as he worked. “Watari, did I get crackers? I couldn't find them.”
He went looking and came back with a box of saltines. "You did, I believe I put them up before you found them."
“Oh, good. The guy gave me four pounds, and I didn't know til I opened it, so I doubled it. They can put what they want on it, if they'll try it. It comes from a recipe that won the Chili Cook Off in Terlingua, Texas. That's somewhere down here. They have one every year. A friend uses the real recipe. No idea where he got it, but it takes all day, and the Wick Fowler's is the same thing but a portion of the time.”
Watari smiled. "They usually try something at least once."
“Yeah, but it's usually your cooking not mine.” Dean smiled back. “I hope they like it. If not, I have leftovers.” His smile disappeared, “How's Sammy? He awake yet? Should your thing you did to him have kept him out this long?” The younger man sounded worried.
"I've had to reapply it a few times. He's going to hit a rough patch so I'm wanting to give him some soup and water in a while."
“Rough patch? I understood that detoxing required certain medicines but this isn't normal detox. Doesn't he have to be conscious for this? In case he gets sick or something?” Dean sounded like he knew he was out of his depth and struggling to comprehend what was happening to his brother.
"I've been letting him sleep through part of the drying out process but he's soon approaching an area where sleep will be difficult."
“What can I do? How do I help him? What is going to happen, and what will he go through?”
"I'll call you in to talk to him when the timing is right. It's just a matter of waiting it out."
Dean nodded, went to the refrigerator, and grabbed a bottled water. “You want one? I did not buy beer or the hard stuff. You may have two of us, if I've gone that far.” Dean sounded nervous when he made the light comment.
"That's be nice, thank you."
Dean handed him a water. He sat down and looked up towards the man sitting across from him. “God, I hope I've handled the hard stuff better then Sam has that filth Ruby's been giving him. I don't want to have to dry out on top of everything else. Can't afford that with this hunt coming on.” The hazel eyes looked strained.
"You may surprise us; we can definitely hope."
Dean stared at him for a second, softly said yeah, and got up to stir the chili and check the rice. He had his head lowered for a moment and came back to the table. About that time the screams started.
Watari rose. "Put my plate aside. I'll be back in a while."
Dean followed Watari into the living room and stood outside of Sam's door, waiting, listening. He saw the others enter the room. He met L's gaze, a sense of panic going through him.
L moved to Dean's side as the old man went into the room. "This is a normal part of drying out."
Sam's voice began to drift into the living room. Dean stood frozen, as his brother began to swear profanities and they were aimed at him. Every thing Sam's mind could come up with was blamed on him. His selling his soul and dying led to Sam's blood thirst so he could destroy Lilith. Not allowing him to grow up. Holding him back when he was the better hunter. Always being the good soldier and daddy's boy instead rebelling like Sam had done. The list went on and on, and Dean's face grew paler with each attack. He stood there and took everyone of them, his body tense. Finally he went into the kitchen to check on the food.
L frowned, then moved to murmur in Matt's ear. Short time later, a white noise device was placed by the door, which blocked a lot of the noise.
Afterwards, L went into the kitchen and looked at the hunter. "You realize that's the addiction talking and not your brother?"
“I was always told that what's in the heart and mind is what comes out during this part of drying out. It doesn't matter, though. He's already told me most of this any way. Some of it not quite so profanely, but yeah. He's said it before down through the years.”
"Then he has a serious problem that we will have to work him past. He should not be blaming you for so much."
“Well, I did sell my soul to raise him from the dead. I taught him how to fight on and live without me, but I thought he'd have no problem because he'd left more then once to be on his own and away from me. I did do everything Dad wanted. I realize that, but I was trying to win something from him. Don't get me wrong, L. Sam's a good hunter. Damn good. But, damn it, I am the better damn hunter. He has to have those powers and that addiction to think he's better then me on the hunt, because he's gonna have to come a hell of long way to be better then me. Who am I kidding, L? Neither of us is worth much without the other. We're a team. Damn it, L, why now?”
Dean kept his back to the detective, watching the food cook, getting ready to remove the rice. He lowered the temperature on the chili, took the rice off the burner, and headed for the back door.
"Things happen when we do not anticipate it. You had no idea about this addiction. When he was fed the blood, he was fed lies along with it."
“My alcohol ridden brain believed every lie he told me and I told him the truth. I fed his illusion.” Dean stormed into the back yard of the cabin, the dark all around him He stared up at the stars for a second, trying to take deep breaths as nausea overtook him. Soon he was down on his knees, retching hard, tears slowly going down his face, grateful for the darkness that hid them.
L followed him, staying within earshot. "Addictions are complicated things," he murmured.
The sound of sobs followed the retching. The hunters voice was breathless, “Hell, you don't think I know that. I've been addicted to family my whole life. I can't stand the idea of being alone. The feeling of being alone and not wanted, except to have someone's back is a living hell. You give and you give and you get nothing back. It's a living damnation and I was addicted. I had no idea how to get out because I needed to be needed. Dad needed his soldier, like Sam said. Sam needed me too..at least I thought he did. What a lie I've lived.”
It grew quiet in the yard, as Dean seemed lost somewhere he didn't know how to get back from.
"Why do you fight, Dean?"
“You mean evil? It's all I know, and someone has to stop it. It's my job, L, and it's, honestly the only thing I got left that I don't screw up....even if Sammy thinks I can't do it, I'm still a better man at hunting then he ever will be. Only because I have no illusions of what I am.” It was quiet again, then Dean shouted, “Damn it, Sammy! Why the hell are you doing this?”
"Right now, you have to focus on Dean, not Sam. If you aren't able to resolve these issues yourself, the trap will be too easy to fall into again."
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