asklisa

Mom wants to know where we're all running off to.

I’m not running cause my dog ate her very expensive heals.

Nope.

Not at all.

Oh. Crap. HERE SHE COMES.

RUNNING FOR MY LIFE

It's kinda funny

All these nurses are treating me like I’m some sort of basket case trauma patient. Like they’re afraid one wrong move will send me off the deep end. If it’s not that I’m a delicate trauma patient it’s either that I’m “special” or that I’m faking. Bitch’ll get what’s coming to her one of these days. Dad’s doctor took a look at me earlier. My vocal cords are in tact and fine and dandy, and my lack of emotion on my face is quote “worrying”. When he turned around I stuck my tongue out at him for the hell of it. Too bad nobody saw. 

I’m not gonna break. Not just yet. I just want my Dad back.

So,

Are you there God? It’s me, Ben. 

Can I call in a huge ass favor? Can you please keep my Dad alive and help him and our family through this rough patch? 

Please?

Amen. 


Ben woke up. It was Saturday morning and he was alone in the motel room. Well alone meaning it was just him and Elvis.

Saturday meant the day after Friday.

As in one day after the doctors had given him to work his issues out without needing to see a specialist. He hugged the pillow tighter as Elvis hopped up onto the bed to lick at the boy’s face. Elvis wanted to go out and do his business.

Ben finally pushed the dog away and sat up and nearly screamed. Elvis had torn the couch apart. “Elvis!” he snapped looking down at the bouncing puppy. “Oh my God, Mom is going to kill me…”

He stopped and realized what he’d just done.

"Holy fucking shit," Ben said quietly pulling the dog close to him and hugging his furry companion. "I’m talking. You little fucker. I love you, okay, I’m never getting mad at you again, but dude, the couch is not something to tear apart. Oh my God. I can TALK!" 

Ben sat on the living room floor surrounded by motel room couch fluff as Elvis pranced around proud of his kill.

"You know I should be mad at you," Ben said to the dog as he paused his victory lap of the room. "But I really can’t make myself be bad. You’re just being you. And by doing that you got me talk again for the first time in well over a week. And you know, Elvis you really can’t be doing this when we go home. Just so you know. Mom and Dad’ll flip their shit if you do that to the furniture at home. Like you’d be living out in the yard so fast you wouldn’t know what hit you, Elvis."

The dog sat down, resting his head in Ben’s lap looking pathetically adorable. 

"Stop looking at me like that," Ben said at he reached over to pat his dog. "You’re in trouble, remember? In the figurative dog house?" Ben sighed and hugged the dog. "I should probably call somebody, huh boy?"

Elvis just whined and inched towards the door again.

"Shit," Ben said quickly grabbing Elvis’s music note leash. "Let’s get you outside to handle your business."

And this was how the best day of the month was starting for Ben Winchester.

((So I’ve decided that Ben has a case of selective mutism. he didn’t just deiced to stop talking, he’s in shock. He’ll start talking again soon. So most asks will be answered privately or saved until a later date. i’m not ignoring you. Ben’s just not in any state of mind to answer asks right now))