Title: Whiskey Lullaby

Rating: R

Author: phar_ahkmenrah (halfblood alchemist)

Genre: angst, tragedy, Dean/Castiel, AU

Spoilers: None

Warnings: domestic abuse, alcohol abuse, swearing, implied dub con

Summary: "The people who are the hardest to love, are usually the ones who need it the most…" Dean and Cas are an established couple. Dean's alcoholism weighs heavily on the relationship, threatening to tear them apart.

A/N: Based off of a video by anaapenas (follow the link without the breaks to see the video: http:/www. /watch?v= EYDNBM4dX9k ) I hope this lives up to the power and emotion she conveyed in her video! Title comes from the song, because it only suits this Destiel AU fic…

A/N the second: Title comes from the song "Whiskey Lullaby" by Brad Paisly

Dean staggered into the house, feeling his way through the darkened hallway, past the dining room table romantically set for two and untouched, towards the bedroom. He didn't look at the clock; he didn't need to. The last time he looked at a clock, it was inching up on midnight, he and a handful of other troopers holding down the fort at the local tavern, drinking themselves into oblivion. Several long hours later, and fully intoxicated, Dean finally managed to drag himself out the doors and begin the long walk home.

Stopping outside his bedroom door, he listened, exaggeratedly pressing his ear to the door to listen for any sounds of stirring inside. When no sounds came to his attention, he brushed his way inside, managing to kick off his boots and shrug out of his coat before sleep washed over him. He collapsed onto the bed next to the still form curled under the blankets, mindless of waking him as he passed out in a drunken stupor for the third time that week.

As Dean slipped into intoxicated slumber, the form next to him turned slightly, sad blue eyes gazing through the dark to land on Dean's ruddy face and mussed hair, smelling of cheap alcohol, smoke and varying perfumes and colognes.

Castiel sat up, the blankets pooling around his waist before he slipped silently from the covers. Padding around to the other side of the bed, Cas gently slipped Dean's limp body underneath the blankets, shedding a few layers of shirts from his partner and tucking him gently into the blankets.

Staring at his shadowed face, Cas sighed. Biting his lower lip slightly, he leaned down to press a kiss to Dean's forehead, carding fingers through the slightly damp hair. "Good night Dean…" he whispered, tears welling in already puffy, red eyes. As Cas curled himself back under the blankets, up next to his drunken partner's side, a single tear streaked down his cheek. "Happy Anniversary…"

Dean and Cas seemed to have a perfect life together: white picket fence, a lovely home, a dog. It seemed too good to be true, that elusive apple pie life that many decent Americans seek to fulfill at some point in their meager existences.

Dean worked for the local garage, under the supervision of one Robert Singer, while Castiel fulfilled his work duties at the local library. To look from the outside point of view, Dean and Cas were happy. Right?

Wrong.

Cas was miserable. Dean was clueless… and drunk. Almost every day entailed that Dean drink himself unconscious, while Cas was left to pick up any pieces that may have fallen out of place in order to keep up appearances.

It wasn't that he was miserable being with Dean because he didn't love him. Far from it. In fact, many of his colleagues were worried that he was lovesick; totally smitten by a man that took advantage of his unconditional love to do as he pleased. In the beginning, drinking hadn't been a problem. Castiel had found himself joining his lover in the consumption of alcohol, enjoying their young lives together as a couple.

It wasn't bad in the beginning. Then it became an obsession. Dean's drinking became a necessity to go on in his daily life. He would normally fall asleep drunk, wake up drunk, and somehow manage to muddle through his day in alcoholic fuzz. It didn't mean much then. Cas naively thought he'd work out his issue and return to his normal, loving state.

Then all hell broke loose.

Dean lost his job. Having not the ability to function normally in his drunken daze had cost him his line of work. This only served to fuel his "need" for drink.

Adding salt to the wound, his little brother Sam had finally graduated from law school as he had always dreamed and picked up a successful career. Dean refused to acknowledge his brother's happy fortune, instead claiming that he was simply spiting his loss, and refused to talk to him. At this outburst, Sam did the only thing he could do: he granted his brother's wish and moved away to start his career elsewhere from the fire of his temper.

Despite all of this, however, one person remained true to Dean's side, and unfortunately, that person received the brunt of his anger on a daily basis.

Cas didn't mind. He simply kept his faith in Dean, hoping throughout his progression through beer to heavy liquor that somehow the Dean he had fallen in love with would come back to him. He only prayed every night, tending to his lover.

They'd have good days, of course; Dean would go most of the day without touching any booze, and it seemed that things were just right in the world again. Other days were not so fortunate. Many of these hours would result in screaming matches, Castiel pleading with Dean to calm down, and never would it end on a happy note in the bedroom. Aside from drinking, angry sex was usually Dean's outlet on his emotions, and on more than one occasion, would leave Castiel confused and unfulfilled at night.

And every day the cycle would start anew. The only thing keeping Castiel going on his road of utter loyalty and devotion were a few simple words that Dean sobbed into his shoulder, one stormy night shortly after his job loss and his brother's abandonment:

"You and me… that's all we have Cas… that's all I have."

At these words, Castiel curled around Dean, letting the weeping man drift to sleep as he, himself, felt weariness take him over. The last words uttered that night wrought deeply into his heart, ringing in his memory…

"Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together…"

"Cas, listen to me…" she said, leaning over the table slightly to stare into her friend's eyes sternly. "Dean needs help… You know it, and I know it…"

Cas sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. "Anna… it's not that simple. Dean's had a hard time… he lost his job… Sam moved away, and refuses to speak to him. He's just…" Cas didn't finish. He knew it was futile, yet he couldn't stop the defensive words. It didn't matter what the circumstances were…

Anna took Cas' hands into hers, urging him to look at her. "Cas… you can't let him do this to you anymore. He treats you like shit, and you stand by him every waking second. You let him drink himself stupid, and walk all over you. Cas… Dean's got a problem… an addiction, and if he doesn't get help, it's just going to get worse and one or both of you is gonna get hurt…"

Cas didn't look at her, but the defeated slump of his shoulders told her he understood. "I know, Anna… I'll… I'll talk to him tonight when he gets back from his job interview, I'll talk to him."

Anna smiled, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. "Good."

Cas offered her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, sipping his coffee with a slightly trembling hand.

Cas sat at the kitchen table, his hands curled in loose fists in his lap as he waited for Dean to come home. He should have arrived an hour prior, but if Cas knew him any better, he figured Dean had stopped off for a quick drink before he came home. It was a similar routine every night; one that he had come to accept until now. Anna's words bounced around his head like livewire, his nerves almost getting the better of him.

He was just about to give the whole thing up, and go back to his old routine of doting to his partner as Dean continued his nightly ritual of intoxication, when he finally bustled into the door, dropping his keys on the hall table without so much as a word. Cas sighed, mildly relieved to see that Dean was not already plastered. "Hello, Dean… How did the interview go?" he asked, standing up and striding over to Dean's side.

Dean rolled his eyes slightly as he pulled his jacket off and pegged it quickly. "Eh… went as well as any I guess…" he replied, planting a kiss on his partner's lips quickly before making his way into the kitchen.

Cas frowned, seeing the irritability in Dean's eyes. Obviously, things didn't go as well as he'd hoped it would. That just made his intervention attempt that much harder to deal with… and if Dean was headed to the kitchen that only meant…

"CAS!" Dean bellowed, his angered voice echoing from the other room.

Cas winced, but obediently followed in his partner's path. He knew exactly what was coming next.

In the kitchen, Dean stood next to the sink, holding two empty bottles of whiskey in front of him. In the sink, two more bottles were upended, the last of their contents draining away. "What the fuck is this, Cas?" he hissed, throwing the two empty bottles to the floor with a crash.

Cas jumped, his hands twisting nervously in front of him. "Dean… I think we need to talk…"

"Talk? Talk what the fuck about, Cas?" Dean hissed, his temper flaring dangerously as the effects of alcohol withdrawal raged full force in his system.

Cas dropped his hands to his side, looking up at his lover with pleading eyes. "Please Dean… You… I think your drinking's become a problem. You can't even go a whole day without getting drunk… you…" he paused, gauging Dean's reaction. "You forgot about our anniversary… you lost your job. Dean, it's all adding up!" Taking a tentative step forward, Cas offered his hand to him, placating. "Dean please…"

"FUCK YOU, CAS!" He screamed, throwing the other two empty bottles to the floor, the sounds of glass crashing filling to too-thick air with sharp crescendos. Castiel leapt back as a particularly large shard of glass threatened to pierce his socked foot, his eyes glued to Dean's face.

"Dean, please! I'm just trying to help you!"

"I DON'T NEED HELP! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE, YOU WHORE!"

Cas blanched, fleeing down the hall as he bolted into their room. He slammed the door shut behind him, leaning heavily against the wood as he slid down to the floor weakly. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he buried his face in his arms, fighting a wave of tears as he listened to Dean tear the kitchen apart, glass shattering and obscenities filling the air as he lost his mind in alcohol deprived rage.

His hopes dashed to pieces, Cas heaved a quiet sob, wishing to any god that would listen, for the strength to help his lover.

Cas woke the next morning to find that he had passed out on the bed, still fully clothed from the night before. Unwilling to face another day, Cas paused, hearing a low whine from the foot of his bed. Looking up, he saw their beloved retriever, Bailey, his head resting on the mattress as he stared mournfully at his master before him. Cas smiled sadly, patting the bed next to him, urging Bailey up. The dog crawled up next to him, licking his hand as Cas sat up, rubbing him behind the ears. "C'mon, Bailey…"

Cas rubbed his eyes tiredly, feeling the sticky residue of tear trails on his cheeks as he sat up, making his way from the bedroom to the kitchen as the retriever followed obediently, half afraid of what he'd find.

Dean was nowhere to be found; the kitchen was in total disarray. Broken glass littered the floor, water puddles from the sink, the refrigerator torn apart. Castiel sighed, turning to the front hall. Dean's boots were gone.

"Dammit…" he groaned, massaging his temple as he felt a migraine throbbing somewhere in the near future.

He needed to talk to someone… anyone. Anyone that would really understand what he was going through and had even the slightest of options to help. Cas didn't care how… he just wanted Dean back.

Bobby rubbed his eyes slightly, hearing the insistent knocking coming from his front door. Glancing up at the clock, he briefly pondered who it could be bothering him at this hour, before making his way to the door. He was more than shocked to see Castiel standing on his front porch, holding his jacket tightly in his fist, fighting back distressed tears. "Cas… what the hell, boy?" he gasped, ushering him into the front alcove.

Cas nodded, silently wiping a few wayward tears from his cheeks as he stepped into the old house. "Bobby… Please help me. Dean's in trouble and I don't know how to help him…"

Dean stared at the glass in front of him, swishing the contents absentmindedly as he waved the elderly bartender over. "Another round…" he slurred, holding the glass out.

The bartender shook his head slightly, giving Dean a once-over. "I'll top it off for now, but that's it. No more tonight, you've had enough…"

Dean didn't say anything, just watching almost desperately as the elderly gentleman unscrewed the cap of the whiskey bottle and filled his glass, shoving it back over towards Dean across the counter top. "You heard me… no more…"

Dean gave him a half-heart nod, turning his attention to the whiskey in front of him. He stared at the amber liquid, recalling Cas' words the night before: "I just want to help you…"

Help him… he didn't have a problem… Dean glared at the bar top, taking a quick swig as he felt the familiar, comforting, poisoning burn of the whiskey as it slipped down his already raw, tainted throat. He closed his eyes, letting himself sink back into the familiar, hazy twilight that he had begun to exile himself to when the pressures of everyday life began to tear him down a little at a time.

Cas' words filled his drunken mind again, echoing dangerously as he mulled over them. Instead of comfort, though, Dean only felt anger. Anger for the presumptions his boyfriend took over him, claiming he couldn't cope with his own goddamn life. He was coping just fine. He'd show him. If he thought he knew pain, he'd learn he was sadly mistaken.

"Look here boy… you need to get out of that house for awhile. Dean's gettin' violent. He's losin' control. You need to get out of there if you wanna help him at all. Stayin' in there won't do you any good, 'cause all that's gonna do is fuel his fire. Back off… start with a new strategy and go back. Give yerself some time to cool off, and him a chance to think." Bobby paused, letting Cas soak the words in as he spoke. "Get the dog and stay somewhere for awhile… you can even come here for a couple weeks. Just long enough to get yourself back on your feet and really get him help."

Cas sighed, head resting in his hands as he stared at the floor in front of him. It seemed a good enough plan; he'd at least have time unhindered to speak to the nearest addiction rehabilitation center for any information, without Dean getting in the way of his own salvation. "Alright… alright I'll do that. Just let me get home and grab a few things."

Bobby nodded, standing up with Cas as the two headed towards the front door. "I'm so sorry this happened, son… I applaud your devotion though. It's always tough to love someone who's bein' so difficult…"

Cas smiled, nodding to him. "I don't regret a minute of it…" And on that note, Cas turned and headed towards the car, and towards a night he'd never soon forget…

Cas pulled into the drive, wondering why Dean's car wasn't back yet. He didn't want to just up and leave without letting Dean know at least… that couldn't end well. But… if that was the case… maybe anonymity was the best course of action. Shrugging, Cas closed the car door and strode inside.

Dean was waiting for him.

Cas froze, staring at the highly inebriated man, as he held himself up at the counter, glaring darkly at him.

"Wh're you been…" Dean growled, pushing himself from the counter to slowly circle his boyfriend.

Cas swallowed slightly, staring at him. "Dean… I'm… I'm going out for awhile… a couple weeks. I just… need some help getting some things straightened out. I'll be back, I swear…"

Dean narrowed his eyes, shoving right into his lover's face. "Wh'er you goin'? Don' tell me you ain't goin' nowhere special…"

Cas finally took an initiative, knowing that if he caved now, his plan would never work. He raised his hand and pushed Dean back a few steps, letting out his breath a little forcedly. "I'll be back… c'mon, Bailey!" he called to the dog, trying to push past his lover.

A sudden clap, like thunder filled his ears, or more specifically his left ear, as Cas stumbled to the side from the force of Dean's blow. He felt a sharp, agonizing pain in his head as his eardrum split from the force of Dean's hit, the clap ripping his ear apart.

Clasping his hand to his bleeding ear, Cas looked up with wide, terrified eyes as Dean rounded on him, slapping him across the face several more times.

"Y'say yer gonna help me… then abandon me? You sick, spineless son of a bitch!" he roared, hitting Castiel a few more times, driving him backwards from the kitchen into the living room.

Cas stumbled backwards, trying to evade the hits that he had NEVER experienced before in his life. Never had he been this terrified in his life, but he found he could do nothing more than cower away from the heavily drunk, furious man as he unleashed his anger on him. "Dean! Please don't!"

"Don't what, Cas? Don't WHAT?" Dean screamed, this time landing a solid punch on Castiel that broke his nose, throwing him back against the china cabinet with a smashing of feeble glass.

Castiel crumpled from the force of Dean's blow, shying away as he tried to scramble to his feet and away from the onslaught. Blood filled his mouth, a wild terror voiding any coherent thought pushing him to flee, escape the attacks. It was futile.

Dean's boot connected with his ribs, winding him as he doubled up, curling in on himself. He yelped in agony, trying to shield his abused torso from the brutality of Dean's wrath, the steel-toed boot cracking ribs, bruising flesh again and again.

Dean laid into the crumpled man, using every ounce of strength he had to inflict damage on his current adversary. "You're a liar! A LIAR!" He screamed, eyes blazing as he beat Castiel senseless. "You don't wanna help me; you jus… just wanna leave me! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME CAS! I NEED YOU! I LOVE YOU!"

The world came to a halt. He found he couldn't breathe, the air stifling, heavy with declaration of desperation, the smell of blood filling his nostrils. Dean stared down at the floor, chest heaving for air that didn't seem to satiate his aching lungs, cheeks stained in tears he had no idea he had even shed.

Cas lay curled up on the floor, blood staining the wood beneath him. Ugly black bruises blossomed from impact points, his left eye swollen an angry red. His arms lay weakly before him, as he struggled to breathe with broken ribs.

Dean's eyes landed on the sight of his broken love, wilting underneath his own hand, before a sick realization sobered him instantly. He had just done this… he had hurt Castiel. "Oh God…" he gasped, staggering backwards, his back connecting with the far wall.

He watched Castiel struggle to his knees, arms wrapped around his battered torso as his remaining good eye locked on the distraught man in front of him. "Dean…" he croaked, blood gurgling in the back of his throat as he swayed dangerously, a wave of darkness skirting the edges of his mind as he struggled to hang onto consciousness.

Dean slid down the wall, strength leaving him in waves. His hands threaded into his hair, shaking violently as he struggled to comprehend what he had just done. "Cas… Cas, oh my God…"

He could feel the last tendrils of his drunken state clinging to him, a sick realization hitting him; Cas was right.

"What have I done…?"

Castiel moved out of the house the next day, refusing medical attention for the fact that they would pin his injuries on Dean. He took his most prized possessions with him -Bailey included- and indeed moved into Bobby's home for the time being. He'd get his own place after he had mended somewhat.

Dean struggled with himself for weeks; having lost the one thing he loved with all his heart, harming him in a way he had previously abhorred of others, having lost himself in the rush and the so-called "sanctuary" of his addiction… now he was gone, and there was no one else he could blame but himself.

He finally found the strength to admit to himself his mistake and checked himself into the addiction rehab center for an extended stay. He threw out every item that associated with alcohol, hats, t-shirts, business cards, and moved into the clinic, in hopes that he'd fight this addiction.

It was hard; he felt the pull for whiskey every night, nearly ripping his hair out as he fought the urge to break out and find the nearest bar and drink himself to death. The only thing keeping him tethered to his self-served prison was the memory of Castiel's face, bloody, bruised and surprisingly full of devotion, filling his mind's eye.

So he stayed, hoping to fulfill the long road to sobriety and recovery. He just hoped that Castiel would forgive him…

It came as a shock, when one day, Cas showed up at the clinic looking for Dean. The nurse had knocked on Dean's door gently, letting him know he had a visitor. Before he knew what was happening, Castiel had been ushered into his room, standing awkwardly by the door as he watched Dean.

Dean tugged at the white t-shirt he was wearing, feeling suddenly very vulnerable in his position, as he sat cross-legged on the bed. "H-hey…" he croaked, his eyes boring into Castiel, roaming to take in the sight.

A few steadfast bruises marred his skin, still swelling under his left eye. He wore a temporary hearing aid in his left ear, and a fresh scar was forming on his brow. "Hello Dean…" he said, taking tentative steps over to the bed. He sat down quietly, staring at the opposite wall.

The silence stretched between them for what felt like ages, neither of them moving to speak or look at each other. After a few agonizing moments, Dean scooted over to Cas' side, nudging him slightly. "What're you doin' here?" he asked, hoping to break the unbearable silence hanging in the air.

Cas sighed, looking up at him. "I just wanted to see how you were dealing. I found out you checked in after I left and I wanted to see how you were doing." He ran his hand down the side of his face, fingering the hearing aid slightly. Dean winced at the sight, knowing he was the full cause.

"Bobby says hello, by the way.." Cas added, finally meeting Dean's eyes.

Dean choked at what he saw. Cas' eyes had lost their shine, depression dulling them to a dirty grey over the brilliant blue he had fallen in love with. "… are you really leaving?" he asked finally, eyes pleading.

"Dean, please I didn't want to come here to talk about that…" Cas started. He paused, seeing the tears spring to Dean's eyes. "Dean…"

"Cas, I'm so sorry…" he wept, burying his face in his hands as his shoulders shook with his sorrow. "Cas the things I did… w-what I became…"

"Shhh… Dean, I understand…" Castiel soothed, rubbing circles into Dean's back as the man clung to him desperately. After a few moments, he allowed a snuffling Dean to sit up, staring into his sad green eyes. "Dean… I can't… I can't say that this is just going to go away. I'm very glad to see that you're finally getting the help you needed…"

Dean nodded, hanging his head slightly. "Cas… please don't leave me. I'm so sorry, a-and I'll make it up to you… Please…"

Cas pressed a finger to Dean's lips, staring intently at him. "Dean… I'll never leave you. I love you too much to do that. But… I need some time. That's all…" Pulling Dean over, he wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. "I'll never leave you, Dean… I'll always be here to watch over you, even if you don't think so. "

Dean sighed, burying his face in the side of Cas' neck. He felt his hand slip something into his pocket, but didn't look to see what it was. He pressed an exhausted kiss to the side of his neck, savoring the warmth, the smell of his partner, wishing it could never end.

All too soon, Castiel pulled away, running his thumb pad over the raise of Dean's sallow cheekbone, offering a weak smile. "I'll be back for you… I'll come by every day after work, and I'll even bring Bailey… but you have to promise me you'll work to help yourself. I can only do so much…."

Dean nodded, wiping the back of his hand on his eyes, too choked up to speak. He watched Cas stand and make his way to the door of his suite, fearing that if he walked through those doors, he'd never see him again. "I love you!" he blurted, his voice clicking silently.

Cas turned and smiled, eyes sorrowful. "I love you too, Dean…" and with that he left, leaving Dean for another lonely night until he could free himself and reunite with Cas.

Heaving a quaky sigh, Dean curled up on the bed, allowing himself to settle down for another rough night. As the first vestiges of his alcohol cravings gnawed at the back of his mind, taunting him with his still lingering need, he pushed then thoughts from his already clouded mind with a groan.

Feeling the lump in his pocket again, he pulled the item out, staring at it disbelievingly. It was Castiel's tie. He swallowed the lump in his throat, staring at the silky blue tie for a long moment, nesting it to his face as his eyes drifted shut. He breathed in his scent desperately, exhaustion finally winning out.

Forever after, his thoughts would linger on his past addiction, threatening to draw him in; threatening a spiral of lost control. Dean only allowed himself to sleep, on the knowledge that his partner, his one life line would always be there to pull him out, no matter what he did to drive his love away.

It was a comfort that he could live with; that the love of his angel would always over the demons of his past…