A/N - Prompt from a tumblr user. Contains some stuff that might be triggering so stop reading if you don't like/can't read suicide. Thanks for your constant support!
You're not worth anything to anyone.
The words echoed around Dean's mind, filling every corner until his ears started to ring. He glanced at the knife that lay on the pillow, under which he had tucked his feet. The knife belonged to his dad. It was a hunting knife, intricately carved on the handle with a deadly sharp blade. It glinted menacingly in the light that poured in through the open curtains, a fiery orange thanks to the early morning sun.
A yawn ripped through Dean. He hadn't slept all night. His throat was raw from silently sobbing, so as not to wake Sammy, who had had a bad night himself. Their father had been drunk out of his mind when they'd got in from school, and he'd shouted at Dean for no reason. Despite the verbal abuse he'd already had that day, the words coming from his father had stung the most.
Sammy had slipped quietly away to his room to do his homework. Dean had stormed into his own bedroom and, tearing his own homework to pieces, managed not to break down. After calming himself he went to check on Sam, who had refused to look at him, scared that Dean was going to get violent "like Daddy does sometimes".
"No, Sammy, I'm calmed down now, see?" He'd made Sam feel his slow heartbeat. "Now you listen to me. Be good and do everything dad asks you to do," he continued, tears filling his eyes at the thought of leaving his vulnerable little brother behind. But when Sam had shown fear towards him, Dean had known that he couldn't stick around.
You're not worth anything to anyone.
Dean pulled his feet out from under the pillow and shuffled to sit on the edge of the bed. He stared out of the window, watching the birds fly past as the sky paled to pink. Cas would be waking up about now, he smiled to himself sadly. He was an early riser, and Dean knew he loved watching the sunrise.
He pictured Castiel's face filled with wonder, the skin around his sky-blue eyes wrinkled as he narrowed them against the light. Sometimes Dean felt like Cas loved the entire world and moments like that confirmed it.
But sometimes Cas got angry. Whenever someone had attacked Dean about his nerdy little brother, his slightly lopsided gait or his allegedly alcoholic father, Cas jumped in, fists clenched, chin up, eyes glistening. His not-always-apparent muscles rippled in anger whenever someone threatened his best friend.
"You're incredible, Dean," Cas had told him many times before, "You look after Sam like he's a precious treasure. You put up with your dad disappearing for weeks on end. You still find time to make me laugh." Cas always looked into the distance when they had this conversation so Dean always doubted his sincerity. He was going through the motions, assuring Dean that he wasn't worthless because he was a friend.
On this particular day, Castiel hadn't defended Dean.
You're not worth anything to anyone.
Cas hadn't been there to tell Dean he was worth something, so the words had sunk in.
On this particular day, John had chosen exactly the wrong word to call his son.
"You're so worthless, Dean."
On this particular day, Sam had finally expressed the fear that Dean would turn violent like their father. Dean was scared that Sam was right. He let tears drip down his face now, just taking in the view of the sky and the houses below.
When he could compose himself, he took another long look at the knife. The cold, sharp kiss would be so welcome, since he'd never feel the warm, soft kiss he yearned for from his best friend. Cas didn't need him, anyway. He was so close with his brothers. He got so absorbed in their family dramas sometimes that he didn't even answer Dean's calls for weeks.
The first time he'd learnt of Castiel's extensive family problems, Dean had been suffering a bout of depression. He was failing most of his classes and feeling useless and hopeless. After sneaking his father's beers most nights for a month, he had been scolded so hard by John that he could barely think for shame. He had cuddled Sam that night until Sam had fallen asleep, before quietly calling Cas's phone.
"I'm sorry, Castiel can't come to the phone. We have a bit of a family emergency going on. Can you call back in a few days?"
Dean had sobbed into his pillow so hard that he'd vomited. That was a different kind of hurt from the hurt he felt now. That had been abandonment. This ... this was utter worthlessness.
The sky was starting to lighten even more, to blue. Dean was reminded of Cas's eyes. His stomach tightened. Maybe it was best for Cas not to know how he felt about him. It would only be a burden for him.
But I'm a burden already. I'll feel better if I get it off my chest. Then it's not my problem anymore.
With a rush of something that Dean associated with selfishness, but was in fact closer to relief, he wrapped a rough, clammy hand around his cell phone. He hit Cas's name on the speed-dial screen. A photo popped up. Dean had an arm draped over Cas's shoulders, looking slightly grumpy, as Cas had grinned and taken the photo. He was wearing one of Dean's t-shirts, hence Dean's bashful expression. It was black with "Heaven Waits For You" in silver lettering.
With a jolt, Dean realised he had that same t-shirt on now. He smiled in spite of himself, but the smile soon fell when he got through to Cas's voicemail instead of the boy himself.
Dean cleared his throat and left a message in a quiet voice, hoping not to wake Sammy in the next room. Then he set his phone down, feeling at peace, and hummed softly to himself. He picked up the knife and held it to his stomach.
He felt his heart beating slowly but hard.
Worthless, worthless, worthless he heard with each beat.
The knife slipped very easily into his flesh, blood flowing warmly over Dean's hands as he dropped to his knees on the floor. He hardly felt the pain. A bird chirped as it landed on the windowsill, cocking its head in curiosity at the sight of the human lying motionless in a pool of his own blood.
Cas flipped his phone open. The ringtone had woken him, but he'd been a second too slow to answer before it went to voicemail. He listened sleepily as he got up and opened his curtains to watch the sunrise.
Beep. "Hey Cas, it's me."
Dean. Castiel's stomach flopped hopelessly at the tone of his voice. He was sad and sounded very much like he'd been crying.
"Sorry to call you so early but I figured you'd be up by now. Isn't it a beautiful sunrise today?"
For some reason, Cas felt tears prick his eyes. Dean didn't normally talk like this. There was something intangibly tragic about the thought of him watching the sunrise. Usually, he watched Cas while Cas watched the sunrise.
"Every single sunrise reminds me of you. That makes me so happy in a way nothing else ever could. There's no point in keeping from you that I love you. I love you like I never loved anyone else. Nobody measures up to you, Cas. I mean, you're a complete bitch sometimes and you're always caught up in some family thing or other, and maybe it's selfish but I wish we could just spend more time together, just you and me. I love Sammy to death, you know that, but not in the same way I love you." He sighed deeply into the phone and his voice got even softer. "I love you, I love you, Castiel. I'm nothing but a burden for you. You always stick up for me, even though I could take the dicks myself. You have so many of your own problems and I just add to them. Then I have the nerve to resent you for not spending all your time with me. I'm no good to you. I'm no good to anyone. Last night Sam-" There was a catch in his voice and Cas could hear him swallow. "Sammy told me that he's scared I'm going to start getting violent like my dad. And you know what? I'm scared he's right. I couldn't do that to him, have him wondering all the time if I'm going to hit him, or yell at him. Last night I had to shred my homework just to stop from screaming. I got a knife, Cas. I'm looking at it right now and it's looking real friendly."
Cas's guts twisted. "No," he whispered to himself. His lip trembled as he listened to Dean go on.
"I know the world would be better off without me, man. Nobody needs me around. Sometimes I feel like nobody even wants me around. Even if they do, they'll forget me soon enough. We'd only move again, anyway. What's the point in prolonging the pain when I can just end it?" His voice became gentler here, tinged with an unwelcome peacefulness. That was all Cas needed to hear. He grabbed his hoodie and threw it on, not bothering to change his sweatpants. Clutching his phone to his ear, he ran out of the house and down the street.
A pair of wings flapped behind him. They were white felt wrapped around cardboard. Dean had helped him make them to sew onto his hoodie when Sam had referred to him as Dean's guardian angel.
"I hate to be melodramatic, but by the time you wake up and listen to this, I'll be dead. You made my life worth living, Castiel, right up until I couldn't take it anymore. I want you to look out for my little brother, you hear? You better remember that I was in love with you, ok? Then you can feel guilty if you're not there for Sammy." The message ended with a click and Cas shouted wordlessly. Then he ran, for ten minutes until he reached the other side of the small town. He turned the corner to the street where the Winchesters lived.
Without knocking, he threw the front door open.
"Dean!" he shouted, sprinting up the stairs two at a time. It took two shoulder-barges to get Dean's bedroom door open and the sight before him made Cas stop in his tracks. He dropped his phone and panted heavily, tears filling his eyes once again.
Dean was breathing shallowly in a pool of blood.
"Dean," Cas repeated, more quietly. His voice caught as the tears spilt over, coursing down his cheeks to the corners of his full mouth which were turned down in distress. He carefully approached the body on the floor and knelt beside his best friend.
Dean looked up, his forest-green eyes brightening beyond the gleam of illness when they saw Castiel, who was silhouetted by the sunlit window at his back. "Hey Cas. You're an angel, huh." He chuckled at his own joke then grimaced as the movement hurt his wound.
"What's going on?" a high, timid voice called out from the doorway. Sam.
"Hey Sammy," Cas said gently, "Dean's going to be ok. You go and call an ambulance then try to wake your dad. Is he here?"
"No, he went out in the middle of the night. He's not back yet." Sam's eyes were wide and fixed on his bloody brother.
"Ok, go and call an ambulance. Tell them your brother's been stabbed in the stomach and he's bleeding lots. Can you do that?" Cas smiled encouragingly at Sam despite the fact that he was holding in sobs.
"Ok," Sam responded, meekly, his lip shaking as he disappeared from the doorway.
"Dean, you're going to be ok. Sammy's getting an ambulance."
"You weren't supposed to come." Dean's voice was hardly a whisper, his breathing bubbly and harsh in his throat.
"I know, but I couldn't let you die. You didn't get to hear me say it back," Cas insisted, taking Dean's face in his hands. He was getting the blood all over himself but he didn't notice. Dean grunted with effort as he pushed himself up onto an elbow.
"You don't have to. I know ... you'd only be lying."
The whole world fell away as Cas stared into the crystalline abyss of Dean's eyes and finally understood. Dean did this because he thought nobody wanted him around. He wouldn't let himself believe that Cas even wanted his friendship.
"I'm not lying, I promise. I love you too. See? I ran all the way here in ten minutes just to tell you that."
They both gave a pained, tearful chuckle. The last of the colour was fading fast from Dean's cheeks. His eyes fluttered shut.
"Just shut up and kiss me, you big baby," he breathed. Cas brought his face to Dean's, close enough to feel the heat of his skin on his own cheeks.
He felt the last breath surge from Dean's mouth. Then Dean fell back, limp, too heavy for Cas to hold up in his distraught state.
A kiss now would be one-sided. But Cas pressed his lips to Dean's anyway, not wanting to rob his best friend of the first kiss with the boy he loved.
From above the scene, Dean gazed at Cas, consumed with regret.
"Come, Dean," a familiar voice whispered in his ear. His mother. "Heaven waits for you."