This is probably gonna become a series, too, because I have TONS of ideas for this verse, so expect more to come! (also on ao3!)
When Dean moved out of his tiny little garret of an apartment and into a cozy, fully furnished farmhouse on the rural outskirts of town he thought he was in store for a more peaceful, laid-back life. And he would have been right if his neighbor’s chickens would shut the hell up for once.
After nearly a decade in his too-small, too-expensive apartment, Dean finally decided that a change of scenery was in order but he sure as hell wasn’t going to move out of Lawrence anytime soon. It was his home.
From the river where he, Sam, and their dad would go fishing on the weekends, catching pike and catfish to the bar where Dean had his first legal drink, a shot of Jack Daniel’s followed by a few beers with his dad. From the tattoo parlor where he and Sam had gotten matching tattoos on Sam’s eighteenth birthday to their uncle Bobby’s junkyard where they learned all they would ever need to know about cars.
From the University of Kansas where Dean had gotten his automotive technology degree to the Roadhouse where Ellen had given him a job bartending and helping out in the kitchen. From the back roads where he liked to drive over the speed limit when no one else was around, seeing just how fast his baby could go, to the graveyard where his grandparents were buried together.
Besides, his parents would have thrown a fit. Well, his mom would have anyway. His dad was more stoic, at least on the surface since beneath all of his bluster and bravado he was a big ol’ teddy bear, something that Dean had inherited from his old man.
He knew that if for some crazy, stupid reason he decided that he wanted to leave Lawrence, his mother would have been almost too supportive. She would have made him promise that he would take care of himself and call whenever he got the chance. She would probably send him off with a homemade goodbye pie, probably apple or pecan, maybe cherry.
Meanwhile, his dad would just complain about Mary making too big of a deal about the whole thing, reminding her that Dean was a grown man. But he would be fighting back tears like the day Dean had started at KU or the morning Sam got accepted into Stanford.
Speaking of Sam, he would make a huge scene himself, the drama queen. One straight out of those chick flicks that Dean hated with a passion but secretly binged whenever he was alone.
Jess, Sam’s fiancee, would probably get a little teary eyed, too. But that was just her way. Dean could forgive that because she made ridiculously awesome brownies. Sure, it wasn’t pie but it was the next best thing.
But as it was, Dean decided to move out of his apartment and purchase a quaint house and a nice plot of land in the more rural part of town. The timing was perfect. His business, the garage he had opened with his dad and his best friend Benny, was thriving and he has nearing the ripe old age of thirty six in January.
It was about time he got a house of his own, settled down and found someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. So while some of his family and friends had been skeptical of the somewhat sudden decision, Dean had known all along that it was the best choice for him.