Dean froze.
How did Cas know?
"Dean?"
What was he supposed to do? He wasn't prepared for this. Had Cas talked to Sam about it beforehand? He felt a pit in his stomach.
"I don't know what you're talking about Cas."
Castiel took a few steps closer to Dean.
"I think you do."
Dean decided to stay silent. He went to walk past Cas, but as he passed him he felt his arm being grabbed, and was pulled to face him.
"I saw what you were doing in Hell, Dean. I've heard all the rumours. From what I've learnt about humans I know that this isn't a behaviour that's easy to discontinue. I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, but I only wish to help."
Dean didn't know what to say, even if he could manage to say anything. What could Cas do? Nothing. Anger grew in him and he pulled his arm out of Cas's grip.
"If you want to help, Cas, then don't bring this up again."
Cas sighed as Dean left the room.
Dean locked the door to the bathroom. Only when he reached for the shower door did he realise he was shaking. He brought his hand into a fist and proceeded to take off his clothes, turning the hot water on and standing under it so it would fall down his back.
What was he supposed to do now? Cas knew. He fucking knew. And he was probably going to tell Sam. He felt that horrible feeling in his gut again. Would they force him to stop? He couldn't stop. He's been doing this for too long, he likes it. They wouldn't understand that.
"Dean?" He heard Sam's voice through the bathroom door, how long had he been in there? He hadn't even noticed the water going cold.
"Yeah, Sammy?"
"Food's here."
Hoping that Cas hadn't had that particular conversation with Sam, he quickly got dressed and reluctantly headed to the kitchen. Sam had brought back burgers, and he seemed in a pretty good mood. Dean let put a breath that he hadn't realised he'd been holding. So Cas hadn't told Sam, yet.
"Where's Cas?" Sam asked in between mouthfuls.
Dean looked around. The angel was nowhere to be seen.
"I dunno. He probably got called up for some heaven business."
For some reason, the longer Cas didn't show up he became more and more anxious.
Was this about him? He hoped it wasn't. Who knows what Cas might be thinking about him. That Dean's one fucked up shadow of a person probably. He said he wanted to help, how could he though? Why was he even thinking about this, he didn't deserve help. He didn't need it in the first place. This was just who he was now.
For the second time that day he found himself in the bathroom holding his blade. He had decided on his arm this time, pulling up the sleeve on his left and running his fingers down the scars. He remembered the time when there was no untouched skin left, when he had to cut through year's old scar tissue. Looking at his arm now, he felt pathetic. It would take a while to get it to how it looked before, at least he could experience it all over again.
He held the knife a few inches below his wrist, pressed down and dragged it across. He could see the fat tissue bubbling up inside the wound. Not too bad for now. A few more of these would be fine.
As he went to work on the third cut, a voice interrupted him.
"Dean!?"
Cas grabbed the knife from his hands.
"Give it back, Cas!" Dean turned towards him, anger taking over the calm expression that was on his face moments ago.
"Calm down. Let me heal those for you, we can talk."
"No offence Cas, but what I do is none of your fucking business. So don't try to talk to me about this."
He pulled down his sleeve, not caring that the wounds were still bleeding.
"Then I'll talk to your brother about it then."
Dean's blood ran cold. Sam couldn't know. He can't know.
"Please Cas, pleaseā¦. please don't tell Sam."
Dean couldn't look him in the eyes.
"If you talk to me about this, I'll keep it private. Just...just talk to me, or anyone. Please, Dean."
