more destiel bitches! i cant get enough of these two dorks. anyways, this fic is kinda angst-y, i have know idea why i even wrote it. the idea just wouldnt get out of my head. It takes place after the season eight finale, kinda an AU on how i imagined Cas would be like after the angels fell.

disclaimer: i think you should know by now that i dont own supernatural.

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Everything was blurred around him, lights streaking his vision. It was giving him a headache. He had to get someplace darker. Stmbling into a nearby alley, he began to heave, not quite being able to catch his breath due to the inhebration. His heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to leave the body his was mistreating. What did it matter? He Fell. He was no longer an angel. Not anymore. He was human. He could feel. And all he felt was pain. It creeped around like a venomous snake inside of him, filling his head with things he did not want to think or feel. He tripped over his own feet, hitting the cold wet concrete of the alley next to the bar hard. It was his sixth time getting wasted since the Fall happened a week ago. Dean got angry with him when he would return to the bunker drunk, words slurred and walk crooked. The first night he got drunk, he broke a lamp and sliced his hand open falling on it. He still had the stitches. A remainder that he was human, and he was weak. Taking a small container out of his jacket, (he doesn't wear the trenchcoat anymoe, it doesnt feel the same.) He shook out four small pills and stared at them. Dean had given him a lesser version of these pills the night he fell, to ease the made very sure to only give him two, though Cas wondered why. He liked them. They stopped the pain. They clouded his mid, so that he couldn't feel the pain and guilt that crawled from his stomach to his throat, a spiny black creature. He took more from where Dean stored them. Then Dean found out. He was angry and flushed them down the toilet. He yelled and yelled and yelled. But Cas didn't care. He longed for the haziness, for the relief. One night after he left the bar he met a man, claiming to make the pain stop. He said he had pills. Longing for the relief, Castiel bought them. This was his fourth container bought. Just as he was about to put the pills in his mouth, a hand shot out from behind him and grabbed his wrist, squeezing until the pain made him uncurl his fingers and drop the little white saviors on the ground, tainting them with mud. He turned to face the owner of the hand.

Dean stared at Cas, anger clear in his gaze. "Why?" His voice was hard. What could he say? What was he supposed to say?

"Cas! Why?" Dean's grip moved from Castiel's wrist to both his shoulders, shaking hima little. Castiel once agin didnt answer, only looked down at the pills.

"Goddamnit Cas! Fucking answer me! Where did you get these?" Dean barked, reaching into Cas's pocket for the container, pulling it out and holdiing it in Cas's line of view. Cas looked up, tears spilling out of his eyes.

"I-I wanted to forget."

Those words made Dean's gut wrench, almost incaptitating him to not be able to breathe. His hand opened slowly, letting the bottle of pills clatter to the ground. How could Cas even think of doing this? If things were going badly he could've talked to him or Sammy. How could he do this to him? Dean rested his forehead against Cas's the gri on the ex-angels shoulders loosening slightly, trying to control the emotions straining to break free in his body, pounding against his skull. "Damnit Cas. Why drugs? Why booze? This shit isn't going to help."

Castiel suddenly felt a surge of anger slither through him and worm it's way into his heart. "You are the very definition of a hypocrite, Dean Winchester. You tell me that relief isn't in alcohol? Then why have you always done the very same things? This is my life, my mortal life now and I can and will do what I want with it. And what i want are those medications!" At those last words, Cas lunged for the bottle, knees hitting the wet pavement with a sickening thud, a flash of pain that brought tears to Cas's eyes. His hand found thy cylindrical shape of the bottle and he clutched it tightly to his chest, all while dean tried to pry his fingers loose. After silent struggles, Dean finally managed to get the bottle out of Castiels hand and throw it to the far corner of the alley, the darlkness swallowing the last comfort Castiel had. Castiel laid his head back on the cold murky ground, with Dean on top of him, his arms on either side of Cas's head, supporting his body up so he wouldn't completely crush Cas. Cas suddenly felt a drop of liquid fall on his face, rolling from where it landed on his cheek down to his jaw and neck, the once warm trail of wetness turning cold in the fridgid air. He slowly opened his eyes and saw the hunters beautiful green eyes glassed with tears, clotting his golden brown lashes together, the drops suspended on the smail hairs.

"D-Dean?" Castiels voice shook, a leaf in the fall wind. Dean closed his eyes and pressed his warm forhead against Cas's cold one. Dean let out a long, broken breath, the warm air ghosting across Castiels face.

"I-I-I never told you where Zachariah sent me, whn we were fighting the apocalypse. He sent me to the future...August 1st, 2014. I saw what the world wouldve become if i said no to Michael, heh, I knew it was bullshit." Dean let out another breath, but this one came out more of a sob. "I saw myself. What i became. A horrible person. And Sammy, Lucifer wore him to the prom. And you...you were human, like you are now. You were and alcoholic, a druggie. You had sex to forget who you thought you became. You thought you became useless, meaningless, you thought you didn't deserve to live. And my furture self, he thought so too. And i hated him. So fucking much." Dean sat up, pulling Cas with him, rocking him in his lap, face pressed agains Dean's jacket. Dean could feel the slight trmble of Cas's lips, hands clasping the back of his neck. Dean continued, his voice softer. "Thats why I didn't- I don't want you to become that person Cas I don't want you to be that broken shell."

Castiel was sobbing now, the tears coursing from the angels eyes, dampning Dean's jacket.

"B-but you said once that you didn't care if I was broken, Dean." Cas's voice was small, weak, as if the wind blew to hard, it would shatter, turning it into dust and blowing it away. Dean remembered, the memory searing through his mind white-hot, sending guilt rushing through his veins like poison, hurting him more than any death he's suffered. Tears ran down his face, and he buried his face into Cas's hair. "No no no, Cas, i care, care so damn much." Dean pulled away and lifted Castiel's head to meet his gaze, blue eyes laced with tears. "Castiel, I love you." Dean whispered, each word soft and tender. He gently pressed his lips against Castiel's, warmth flooding through his veins. Slowly, the blue-eyed man began to kiss back, small, loving movements, wet faces pressed together, tears mingling and pain melding, until it became transparent, a distant memory. That night, Castiel realized that he didnt need alcohol, or drugs, not any more. He found something better. Something that has always been there.

Love.

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okay, so this is my first try at a Hurt/Comfort fic. I'm sorry i have not been active lately. Luckily freshman year is winding down to a close and i will be more free over the summer (yay). anyways, thank you for all who have stuck with me so far! Please review!

salt and kisses,

soldmysoultofandoms.