When Dad was hunting a monster up around Massachusetts, he’d drop his boys off at Donni’s - oops, Ms. Donni’s - parent’s house to be babysat. After all, at merely two, Sammy was too young for a six-year-old Dean to care for for very long, so they needed a caretaker that could be trusted. Dad had saved Ms. Donni’s family a couple years back and so was happy to care for the two. She was so patient and good with them, not minding that Dean still didn’t talk much to anyone except for little baby Sam and, occasionally, Dad - and even then, only in private. She understood that he’d been through a lot.That’s why Dean liked Donni. Even if she did make them eat green food.
It’s a Thursday night. Jack is just back from a roadie, loose-limbed and happy with himself. Bitty is in his kitchen, making omelettes for a late supper, wearing one of Jack’s shirts.
Moments like this make Jack think things, fierce possessive things like I want this all the time, though they’re not quite there yet. Maybe next year, when Bitty knows what he’s doing after college. I can see there from here.
The phone call is an intrusion, but it’s Shitty, and Jack has been feeling bad about him, so he takes it.
Bitty turns and smiles over his shoulder, and that’s distracting enough that it takes a few moments for Jack to realise that Shitty is a bit drunk, and a lot apologetic.
“…Seriously, brah, it was not cool of me to call you out like that in front of everyone, I know you like your privacy, it was a dick move on my part…”
“Shitty,” Jack says steadily. He feels sort of light-headed, but they’ve talked about this, he and Bitty, they have a plan for when he feels ready, but maybe he will never feel 100% ready, not until until he actually jumps of the cliff.
Impulse decisions have worked out pretty well for him lately.