Dean wakes up after being touched by an angel, spills his guts to Bobby and Sam which results in a trip to new bookstore/cafe in town called Forbidden Fruit, where Dean meets a man with the bluest eyes he has ever seen.


If I could tell the truth
Or lie would I attempt the two at the same time
Expect you to apologize for trying

"In a Lose, Lose Situation" Emery

Dean awoke to Sheriff Mills tapping insistently on the window of the Impala, the early morning sunlight revealing the deep concern on her face and he didn't waste any time rolling down the window.

"Good morning Sheriff."

"Finding you has been the only good thing about it, if it hadn't been for an anonymous tip last night, Sam was going to declare you missing."

"That kid worries too much; I just had too much to drink and wasn't going to risk driving home." It was a pathetic attempt to lie on his part, the expression on Sheriff Mill's face made it clear that she wasn't buying what he was trying to sell. Although the drinking part had been all truth, had just about finished off the whiskey, he had been moments away from blowing his brains out when a bright light had appeared, nearly blinding him, then as it faded there was something else, but his mind drew a blank except for the color blue. It was unnerving; maybe he had imagined it and chickened out, crawling back into the car before passing out.

"Then let's get you back home so Sam can stop worrying." He wanted to tell her that he was fine and didn't need an escort back to Bobby's but he knew better than say anything as his stomach started to twist with guilt.

"You lead I'll follow." She seemed satisfied with that answer and made her way back to her car and soon he was right behind her on the road, trying to figure out what he had been thinking last night and what had actually happened. Even if Sam didn't see right through him, then Bobby would, and how do you look the man who was practically your father in the eye and say that you had almost killed yourself, but only almost because somehow you managed to screw that up as well.

Unfortunately, Metallica did nothing to calm his nerves as they pulled in front of the house, where Bobby and Sam stood. Bobby was as unreadable as ever, but Sam's expression was a mix of concern and fury.

"You're going to be putting in extra hours for making us worry, idjit" Bobby said to him the minute he was out of the car, but the older man's turned his attention went to Jody before he could reply, "Thanks for finding him, Jody. We were starting to get worried."

The attention wasn't off him for long, Sam stepping in front of him as he reached the porch, "Where did you even go? I think I checked every bar in town, hell; I even called Ellen to see if you turned up at the roadhouse. "

"I just needed some alone time, okay? Drove for a few hours, got drunk, and passed out in the front seat. Not exactly that big of a deal." And Sam wasn't buying it for a second, lips pressed into a thin line. Dean fought back a long suffering sigh as he rubbed his face, "Can you give me the bitchface after I take a shower?"

"I'm just glad to see you home in one piece; I don't know what I would do without you, Dean." If he hadn't felt guilty before, he sure as hell felt it now. Dean couldn't find the words to respond; his throat tightened and he decided to push past his moose of a younger brother instead of even trying to say anything.

Fifteen minutes later and he felt sick and disgusted with himself, the hot water pouring over him doing little to relieve his tense muscles. It wasn't fair; it was his fault that Sam had gotten in to drugs (nearly dying as a consequence) and when he tried to do the right thing and take himself out of the picture, well who knew what had actually happened. Nevertheless, he was still alive and had yet again made everything worse. Of course what really made it worse was that not only was Jody now involved, but Ellen and most likely Jo, the three wonderful women who didn't need to be dragged in to his mess.

However he couldn't hide in the shower forever and as the water began to run cold Dean knew it was almost time to face the music. After taking his time drying off and getting dressed, Dean made his way down the steps, his stomach doing flips as Bobby and Sam looked up at him.

"It's time we had a talk son, and this time there's no running away. So why don't you sit down and explain why you drove out to the middle of nowhere with only a bottle of whiskey and a gun for company?"

"It's not what you think."

"Then what is it Dean? What other possible explanation could there be?" The anger faded from Sam's voice replaced by a much softer tone, "Why would you even want to…kill yourself?"

"Look Sam, I was in a bad place and I was drunk and I wasn't thinking. It was stupid and selfish" Dean was beginning to panic, the words spilling from his mouth, "but I just wish that you would realize that it's my fault, I pushed you away. I fucked up and you nearly died Sammy, you would be better off without me. "

"Christ, Dean the drugs were not your fault. That was all me being stubborn; I chose to not listen to you about Ruby. I cut you out my life and nearly died, that's why I came back, why I got help. Because I realized what I said and did were wrong, I need you Dean. You're my big brother." If Dean had felt bad before, he felt even worse now. He was also starting to feel anxious, clenching and unclenching his hands, fighting off his urge to run and take a sledgehammer to an old junker car outback. Everything screaming in him that this was wrong, that what Sam was saying was wrong and he could already see the guilt building in his brother's hazel eyes. Sam was going to start blaming himself, thinking that he drove his older brother to become suicidal.

Bobby was quick to intervene, "Let's just put a pin in that for now, because I don't think this is going to go anywhere beyond you two blaming yourselves for everything that has happened lately. Now Dean, this isn't going to be easy for me to ask, but was last night a one-time thing or are we going to have worry if you're going to come back alive every time you run off? And take your time answering." A heavy silence rested over the three of them as Dean thought about other times he had gotten so low, he had thought about suicide then, but he had never made any plans. But last night even though he had no idea what had stopped him, he had gotten close and he hadn't exactly planned it either.

Finally he spoke his voice breaking slightly as the tears he had been fighting back finally fell, "You might have to worry." And at those words both Sam and Bobby's faces fell in such a way that Dean's heart didn't just break it shattered.

"Would you consider going to counseling?" Sam asked hesitantly and Dean couldn't bring himself to say no or that talking about feelings was for chicks, because he had to at least try for his little brother and maybe if he failed then Sam would see that he was better off without him.

"Since that's settled, how about a nice greasy breakfast? And then you can give me your opinion on an old Pontiac that came in." Dean couldn't help but feel slightly relieved that the conversation was at least over for the time being.

The next few days however, gave no further relief, both Bobby and Sam were careful around him to the point where he was prepared to point out that Sam was a recovering junkie and Bobby was on the road to becoming an alcoholic and therefore some degree of fucked up as well, even if not to the same degree of fucked up that he was. He still smiled, laughed, joked around, and if he just happened to lose a pound he didn't say anything about it. Just like Sam and Bobby didn't push when he didn't go back for seconds at dinner one night, everything was fine because he was in control.

"Could you stop looking at me like I'm going to slit my wrists any second, Sammy?" Dean finally snapped throwing his latest copy of Busty Asian Beauties down on the couch next to him in frustration.

"I'm sorry, Dean but how do you want me to look at you? Finding out about your suicidal thoughts makes it a little hard to not worry about you. Although maybe now you know how I feel when you start looking at me like I'm going to find the nearest drug den." He couldn't stop the flinch that came after Sam's words and worse Sam saw the flinch, "Shit, I'm sorry Dean. Maybe we've just been cooped up too long; Madison told me about this new bookstore in town, maybe we should go check it out."

"Two things, who's Madison? And dude, a bookstore?"

"Madison is the receptionist at the place I go for my therapy and there's also a café where they supposedly have the best apple turnovers in existence." Now that sounded like it would be worth the trip, Dean was never one to turn down the opportunity for pie or anything pie-like.

"Alright in care you forgot, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." Sam rolled his eyes, but soon they were out the door and for a moment it felt like old times again, Dean even belted out "Godzilla" on key as they drove into town.

"This looks like the place." Once glance at the sign in the front and Dean had to roll his eyes as they entered the store/cafe, the sweet combination of cinnamon and books filling the air.

"Forbidden Fruit? It sounds like some tacky sex shop."

"Actually, it's a reference to the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil found in the Garden of Eden." A gruff voice caught Dean's attention and he turned to see who spoke, the sharp remark dying on his tongue as he found himself looking at the bluest eyes he had ever seen. He could have sworn he had seen those eyes before and-

"Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face/The kind you'd find on someone I could save…"

"Lauviah, could you kindly turn that down?" The man who had been in the middle of wiping down a small table spoke and Dean still couldn't get over how low his voice was or how blue those eyes were. So he focused instead on how odd the store was to the left was the café decorated in red, black, and grey, very modern and sleek. However, to the left the bookstore began, with dark cherry shelves filled with books and displays that were decorated with various types of apples. Actually apples seemed to be everywhere, in different colors and sizes, and in Dean's opinion it came across as not only tacky but also overkill.

"Sorry, Baby Boy, I didn't realize we had any customers." A woman came out from behind one of the shelves just as another man came out from the depths of the kitchen to around the other side of the counter. The look on the blue-eyed man's face looked similar to the face Sam used to make at being called 'Sammy' and he couldn't help but smile. "Welcome to Forbidden Fruit, I'm the owner, Lauviah, if there's anything you need help finding or anything you need don't hesitate to ask me, Castiel, or Beelzebub." The woman or Lauviah motioned to the dark skinned man standing in front of the counter and Dean couldn't help but wonder what was up with the biblical theme going on.

Sam spoke up before he even had a chance to ask, "Actually I was hoping to find a specific book for a friend of mine."

"Let's see if we have what you're looking for." Lauviah glanced at Beelzebub and in that half second it seemed like the two had a full conversation before her and Sam disappeared into the forest of shelves.

"How about you? Just looking or looking for something specific?" Beelzebub asked drawing his attention, but he couldn't help but look to Castiel, who seemed to be staring at him.

"You know I was wondering if the apple turnovers were as good as I heard they were."

"Depends on what you heard."

"That they were some of the best in existence."

"They're not bad, take a seat; I'll have Castiel take care of you." Dean noticed how tense Castiel became and wondered if there was a problem. The way the man looked at him made him uneasy and he was even more uneasy at the fact that he couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen or knew Castiel from somewhere else.