Author: Mel aka mad_about_dan
Rating: PG-13 for slight language
Timeline: post on the head of a pin
Sam wasn’t there. ‘I need to clear my head, so I’m going for a walk’ was all he had said to Dean over an hour ago. Bullshit. In that same moment he had to be with Ruby in their demonic saving the world crap, Dean was sure of that. And it didn’t matter how many lies Sam said to him, it still hurt him like the first one, a stab right on the heart.
Dean walked slowly between the shadows of the parking lot in front of Clearwater’s motel, at the outsides of Minnesota. He stopped silently as he got to the Impala, opened the trunk and immediately placed a shotgun as a wedge to keep it open.
He bent forward and began to search between shotguns and bullets, rosaries and rocksalt, and finally under the several bottles of holly water right in the back. There it was. Dean pulled up a yellowish envelope, tainted by the dust and years that had gone by over it. He closed his fingers around it firmly and tugged it inside his jacket right after putting down the shotgun and closing the trunk again.
Dean made his way back in the middle of the same darkness that had kept him company on this way there. Guess it was true what people said about the way back always being shorter, cause he got to the door of room 105 sooner than he expected. He opened the door and walked in without turning a single light.
Sam wasn’t there. ‘I need to clear my head, so I’m going for a walk’ was all he had said to Dean over an hour ago. Bullshit. In that same moment he had to be with Ruby in their demonic saving the world crap, Dean was sure of that. And it didn’t matter how many lies Sam said to him, it still hurt him like the first one, a stab right on the heart. It hurt him to realize what had happened to them, how their relationship had changed in the past months, how Sam had changed and even he had. For the first time Dean understood those sad marriages where time had changed it’s members, everything about them until the only thing keeping them together is the love for each other, but what could he do when it was that same love and need to look after each other that kept pushing them apart?
For the past couple of months his brother had been there and was gone at the same time. Talks with Sam had slowly morphed from the most natural and refreshing thing of Dean’s life to a succession of politeness and shallow words. In that moment Dean missed Sam, not the one who had left him an hour ago or the one with the demonic powers, his missed Sammy, his Sam. And just then he realized the was lonelier than ever.
Dean kept walking. Even though the room was completely empty he just didn’t feel good in there. It was too big and hollow, he could feel the weight of the walls around him, overwhelming and suffocating, so he just walked through blindly and entered the bathroom. He needed a smaller area, less space, a place he could, at least for a minute, call his own and this was the closest he’d get to it outside the seats of the Impala.
He closed the door behind him and turned on the light just before sitting on the ground with his head and back against the wall. The fact that this was the closest thing to comfort and personal space he could find was even more depressing. The broken blue tiles on the walls, the lidless toilet, the torn curtain of the shower and the leaking sink, each more pathetic than the other, just like him. Dean took a deep breath and looked up as he thought of the mess his life had turned into: about him torturing in hell, the echoing screams of his victims, about Sam’s lies and escapades, the several arguments between him and Castiel Dean had overheard at the hospital, about him breaking the first seal and bring the only responsible for the Apocalypse. Just then he could clearly hear Alistair’s voice inside his head “You are not the man your father expected from you”. He felt his heart break into the tiniest pieces inside his chest and an increasing pain took it’s place. Dean bit his bottom lip trying to hold back the tears as he slid the envelope from his pocket.
The yellowish envelope was torn in several places and had brown stains all over it, but for Dean it was the container of his most valuable possession other than the amulet hanging from his neck. He opened it slowly and took out a picture, it was from the day Sammy had been born, the four of hem were at the hospital and joy was reflected on each of their faces, even in little Sammy’s. Dean smiled sadly just before taking a golden necklace out of the envelope. He took it between his fingers and looked at it closely, the chain was made of pure gold and had two pendants hanging from it: the first one was a cross, made of the same shiny gold as the chain, the second was a small medal with the image of Archangel Michael embed on it. Dean held it tightly, the only one of his mother’s belongings that had survived the fire.
“God I wish you were here now” he sighed as his eyes filled with tears “I bet you’d know what to do” he looked down at the picture “You’d be glad to know angels do exist…” his voice broke mid-sentence as he couldn’t hold the tears “I don’t know what to do anymore, all I’ve done… I’ll never forgive myself, nor will I forget” he ran his palm down his face, wiping the tears “I don’t know what to do about Sam either, I’m worried and he won’t listen to me, I still couldn’t tell how he had grown so fast and now… I can hardly recognize him. He’s just not my Sammy anymore” as he said this tears streamed down his face and he took a deep breath, Dean felt as if he was choking on his pain and the hole inside his chest kept growing bigger with every word “And as if all that wasn’t enough I broke the first seal… the first damn seal” he shook his head “I’m the only one who can stop it, but I… I just don’t know what to do, I don’t know what the damn Apocalypse is and I’m scared to hell” he made a brief pause and took a deep breath “So if there’s any God out there” his voice turned into nothing but a whisper “tell him I’m here, tell him I’m lost and need some direction… some mercy at least”
Just then, unable to control himself, Dean rested his head back against the wall as he broke into tears, pouring out his pain, fears and soul.
He would have never thought there was an angel, leaning against side of the same wall and listening to every single word he said.
Castiel closed his eyes as he felt his chest had just been injected of some sort of hurting feeling, his jaw clenched and head was down. Uriel had warned him about this, but he had refused to listen to any of it. Emotions. Angels weren’t supposed to feel, even less share feeling with their protected ones, but the single tear than ran down the side of his face dared to disagree on that. This was against everything that had been taught to him, any law or story, but even then Castiel knew he would have given anything to take that weight off Dean’s shoulders.
He took a step forward and stood by the window.
“When are you gonna tell him?” Castiel’s voice was husky.
“I know you heard him too”
“That’s the same reason why, I wouldn’t bare breaking him more than he already is. He’s my brother.”
“No. I can’t. I won’t.”