Love the Way You Lie
Dear Castiel,
You may not know this, but this is Dean. Right now, you're in the hospital, right where Sam was, and you have no idea what's going on. I know this, because I was there before. But that's a story for another day.
Anyways, I'm writing to find out what the hell happened? Everything was okay in the beginning. I thought maybe we had gained a new ally, maybe even a friend. Hell, I kind of thought you could be like my brother. It was like we maybe had a chance at winning this thing.
And we did, for a while. Even when Sam came back without a soul, it was okay. And I know you did it. But I thought maybe we would make it again.
Then, we found out. You had been plotting with Crowley. I don't give a damn what your intentions were. You know what would happen. You knew it would destroy everything. And I'm still surprised that it turned out this way. I should have fucking known. You're an Angel. They all have their damned schemes that only destroy and hurt.
But none of them were our friends! You were, God damn it! I trusted you! Why would you have to destroy it? Why? I know all of the other angels have their damn schemes, but you didn't have to. We could have found a way to do whatever the hell you were trying to do ourselves. We always do, and you know that.
You took those plots to an extreme. You completely ruined everything. I don't even know if my brother will ever be okay. And Bobby's dead. It's your fucking fault. You released the God damned Leviathan and one of them shot Bobby. He died, in a hospital, and it was your fault. He trusted you! He fed you, gave you clothes, and even let you sleep in his house. He didn't have to. At all. He wanted to.
You know what, in some sort of sick way, I still admire you. You're still my hero, somehow. And don't ask me, because I don't know. I hate it. I hate you. I wish I never met you. Yet, you're my hero.
And some tiny part of me knows that you couldn't help what you did, because of orders. That you didn't have your mind. I don't care, though. You've broken orders before, why not now? When it was most important?
Now, my throat hurts. I've sat here in front of you and screamed at you for hours and you still stare at that stupid wall. You don't even acknowledge me, or Meg. I can hardly speak. My throat hurts so bad I can hardly stand it. I wish you had this pain. Hell, I wish you were dead. You sicken me.
Your glass of water is on the floor, in a thousand pieces. I smashed it when you reached for it. You don't deserve it. You don't deserve the air you breathe. You betrayed us. You destroyed the only thing Sam had keeping him slightly sain. You murdered Bobby. You may not have pulled the trigger, but you let it happen. You can pick up the water, if you even care. You probably don't. Everybody has to wait hand and foot on Mr. Perfect.
And once again, I'm letting you win. I'm fighting back, like you want. Why else would you ignore me? It's not fair that you always win when you're horrible. Hell, even when I'm right, you still win. You don't care. It's never going to be time for someone else to win or get what they want. Only yours. You have to get exactly what you want when you want it. Right, Castiel?
I figured out why you always win. It's your damn lies. You tell us everything's okay, and we stupidly believe you. And when we don't, you threaten us. They're just empty words. You wouldn't physically hurt us. Just betray us, you know, because that's so much easier to know one of the few people you trust let you down.
In a sick way, all of these stinking battles are what keeps my coming back to you. It's the only thing that keeps me holding on to you. I always know you'll be there to fight me, and to piss me off. Looks like you ruined that, too. You left us, Cass.
Maybe I like it. Maybe I like the pain of betrayal and getting hurt every time I trust someone. You've hurt me I don't know how many times. Sam had his demon blood. Dad was never there. I have no one. And I still trust people. I let them in, even though I know deep down that I'm just going to hurt in the end.
And I'm trying to stop. I'm trying to get away from this mess, you, Sam, everything. I need to. I'll end up hating myself even more than I do. That thing in Bobby's dream was right. I do hate what I see in the mirror. Every single bit of it. I hate how I let people demolish me and then I give them another chance. I always do.
I still don't want to leave. I know you're going to be okay, eventually, and so is Sam. I can't leave you guys behind while I rot in Hell. There's no way I'll make it into Heaven.
I can't leave until it's all gone. Until this stupid car is gone, until Bobby's house is gone, the cabin, everything. Just like our memories, because I know you will forget I ever existed. I'm a human; I'm lucky you even acknowledged me in the first place. Why should I expect such a beautiful creature to look at me and find me worthy?
Go ahead, watch as I slowly destroy myself. Watch me fall apart. You always have. You always will. When I'm in Hell, you'll look down at me as I turn into a demon and know that you caused this. I hope you feel guilty.
But it's okay, it really is. I kind of like the feeling of burning inside. I like being lit on fire from the inside out, cell by cell. It's the only thing I have to look forward to anymore. I like feeling the burn inside as I lose everything.
Are you going to watch me die inside? Because I am. No one knows it, yet. I feel numb, until I fall apart and burn again. And then I'll feel numb again. I always do. Sick cycle, huh? You can sit in your damn chair and listen to me scream until I can't speak again. You won't do anything.
It's okay, Cass. It really is. Want to know why? I love the way you hurt me and tell me it's okay. I love all of these damn lies. I love the way your voice changes when you lie to me. I love the way you lie.
Dean Winchester