~23 Years Earlier~
"Don't walk away from me, bitch!" John slurred, reeking of liquor. Mary shooed Dean and Sam into their room where they curled up on Dean's bed, Sam shaking in his elder brother's arm.
"Please be quiet, my sweet angels." She whispered soothingly before closing the door. Dean got up for a moment to flick on the Mickey Mouse night-light they had before climbing back onto his bed and comforting Sam once more.
He listened intently, hearing his mom and dad scream at one another, until he heard a firm smack and his mother's cry.
"Stay here, Sammy." Dean ordered before leaving the room despite Sam's frantic objections.
His mom lay sprawl on the floor, a large red print across her face. She whimpered before sitting up to see Dean.
"Go back to bed, sweetie. Mommy's fine." She assured him, but Dean didn't budge. He glared at his drunken father as angrily as a five-year-old could, his small hands balled into fists at his side.
"Leave Mommy alone!" He yelled, tears welling up in his emerald eyes.
"Scram, Dean." John growled.
"No!"
"Dean, baby plea-"
"No, Mary, if he wants to act like a man, let's treat him like one!" John stumbled over to Dean, hitting him hard in the face. Mary screamed as Dean fell over, crying out despite his best efforts not to.
"Don't you touch my baby!"
"Shut up, bitch! You're next!"
~Now~
Dean stayed at the hospital for a long time, losing track of the days in his drugged and pained state. The doctors said he was very lucky. The bullet had just barely missed his heart, going in between his ribs and exiting cleanly without hitting his spine. One in a million chance. Dean snorted.
He had very few visitors, but Sam came every day, sitting with him for hours. They talked about good things like Sam's promotion, Jessica being pregnant, and better times between the two of them. Dean was grateful for this; more grateful than he would ever admit.
Now he stood in front of Harvelle's Haven. The building was big and pristine white with bars on the windows. Dean felt as if he was walking into a prison. Sam nudged him encouragingly and Dean stepped through the automatic doors, entering a sterile-looking waiting room. A secretary sat behind a desk, taking notes as she listened intently to the small earpiece. Looking around at the orderly room, Dean decided it was much more like an insane asylum.
"Hello, my name is Jo. How can I help you?" The blonde-haired secretary smiled up at them and Dean scoffed at her fake cheeriness.
"Um, yes, this is Dean Winchester. He's here to be admitted for treatment. I'm his brother, Sam." Dean shot a look over at the taller man at the word 'treatment'. Jesus, he wasn't some nutcase!
"Oh yes, of course!" She exclaimed, checking some files on her computer. "Ash will lead you to your room, Mr. Winchester." She smiled again as a man with a mullet and ruffled white shirt came out. Dean grimaced.
"Oh you've gotta be freakin' kidding me." He breathed out, receiving a sharp elbow to the side from Sam. They picked up Dean's bags and carried them to the second floor into a decently-sized comfortable-looking room. The floor and walls were made of a light brown wood and the bed was large with a fluffy light blue comforter on it. There was a nightstand with a lamp and a dresser and work desk as well. Overall, it was rather cozy.
"This is where you'll be stayin' for six months." Ash said with a thick Southern accent. "Now lemme just check your bags." Dean hesitantly handed them over, but smiled proudly when nothing was found.
"I'm glad you're really trying, Dean." Sam remarked warmly.
"Of course, Sammy." Dean grumbled. Yes, he was really trying; he didn't WANT to be a burden on his remaining family.
"Yer group sessions with Doctor Novak will begin in the morning." Ash spoke up. Dean cocked an eyebrow at this. It was a rather unusual last name. "If ya'd care to follow me fer the tour." Ash said, pausing at the door.
The brothers followed and Dean had to admit that he was rather impressed. Despite it's intimidating appearance, Harvelle's Haven was rather welcoming on the inside. The cafeteria was spacious and clean with tables similar to that of a mall food court. Downstair, there were also several rooms including an indoor swimming pool, Jacuzzi, pool tables, several large televisions, lounge, ping-pong, a few game systems, and several other things for recreation. Ash informed them that the third floor was more rooms and offices so they didn't bother touring up there, preferring to look outside instead where there were several tennis and volleyball courts, an outside pool, and areas to relax and sunbathe. Through all this, they had managed to hold a homey atmosphere, a feat that didn't go unnoticed by Dean, who had not felt comfortable living somewhere for a long time.
By the time they returned to Dean's room, he felt significantly better about being at the facility. Ash left soon after, leaving Sam and Dean alone. The latter began to unpack, shoving his clothes messily into the drawers.
Sam chuckled at this before sitting up. "I'm gonna go. Let you get settled in and all. I'll see you in a couple days, okay?" Dean nodded and Sam gave him an awkward and unsure hug before departing.
Dean sighed. They used to be so close, and the fact that they were so broken apart now broke his heart. He knew Mary would be upset with how things had turned out, but he was determined to get back on track, to make her proud again. He unpacked a little more before collapsing onto the bed, falling into a fitful and restless sleep.
~12 Years Earlier~
"C'mon, Dean. Just try it." The teen coaxed, pushing the syringe towards Dean.
"I dunno..." Dean yawned, bags under his eyes; he hadn't slept right in years, tossing and turning in the night. He examined the needle closely. "This seems like a bad idea, Chuck."
Chuck merely grinned, brown hair sticking out wildly. "You're a mess dude. It'll make you feel better, I promise. Trust me."
"I.. I guess." Dean thought of Sam, who was at school currently, and frowned. He timidly grabbed the drug from Chuck, who was busy preparing Dean's arm for him. "Are you sure this is okay?"
"Fuck yeah, man! I do it all the time, and I'm fine! It inspires me to write my shit."
Dean shifted uncomfortably on Chuck's bed before slowly sticking the needle in his arm, wincing slightly. He pushed down on the plunger then quickly removed it, bracing himself for whatever would come next.
"Chill, dude. You're fine." Chuck patted his shoulder, smiling widely.
A feeling of joy spread through Dean, warming him up. He grinned goofily, feeling good for the first time in many years.
"See?"
"Yeah, man. This is kickass."
"Exactly!" They sat there for several more minutes before Chuck spoke up again. "Hey, I'm thinking about writing a book with... get this..." he paused dramatically. "Angels and demons!"
"Dude, that sounds awesome!" Dean nodded enthusiastically.
"Hell, I'll even include you and Sam in it. And I... I'll be a great prophet. That'll be some awesome shit, there." He grinned again. "Here, lemme set you up with some more of this stuff."
~Now~
Dean sat up, groggy and disoriented.
"Where the fuck am I?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He glanced around at the wooden room and remembered with a groan.
He dressed slowly, attempting to put off a boring meeting with a boring doctor and fucked-up patients. He trudged onward anyways, being directed by a less cheerier Jo. He knew her little act had been just that. In reality, she seemed rather sarcastic and funny, a girl his dad would've liked him to bring home. Hell, he would've liked Dean to bring ANY girl home. He threw that out of his head immediately, irritated with himself.
The walls in the meeting room greatly contrasted the light wood of the rest of the rooms on this floor, being instead painted with spectacular scenery of a lovely garden, bright flora spotted throughout it, most foreign to Dean. Dean marveled in the beauty of it for several moments. The floor had a thick shag carpet on it, and Dean dug his toes into it. There was a large circle of chairs in the center of the room and a table on the side filled with several baked goods and a coffee-maker. Dean eyed the coffee and treats hungrily, deciding to make his way to it directly after the little session was over.
He sat in one of the chairs, which was rather comfy actually, and waited patiently for others to show. A woman with long red hair entered first, scratching her arms and looking around the empty room with a paranoid expression. She was followed by seven or eight others, one of which was happily eating a sucker.
The seat beside Dean was soon the only one empty and he frowned. That meant the doctor was gonna sit by him. Ugh. He didn't want some boring, old, judgmental asshole wheezing beside him.
However, that's not what he got. Instead, a man very likely only a year or two older than him walked in. He had raven black hair that was mussed up and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. His figure was slim but clearly strong, hidden at the moment by a tan trench coat. He was looking down at a clipboard in his hands as he threw his bag into the corner of the room carelessly. He removed his trench coat, revealing a white button-up shirt and a currently backwards dark blue tie. He stopped by the table, picking up a doughnut before sitting down beside a wide-eyed Dean.
"Terribly sorry to be late, you guys. I know I'm only a few doors away, but my alarm clock malfunctioned. I must admit my knowledge on electronics is rather poor." He smiled sheepishly and Dean's heart skipped a beat. "Oh! And you must be Dean Winchester, correct?" He looked over at the blonde man, who was once again caught off-guard by the sapphire-blue eyes now gazing at him through glasses.
Dean nodded, vaguely aware that his mouth was slightly open. "Y-yes, I'm Dean." He said, blinking several times and sitting up straighter in an attempt to pull himself together.
"Ah yes. Well, it's a pleasure to have you here." The man smiled wider, dimples appearing and eyes crinkling happily. "Oh, I'm Doctor Novak, but you may call me Castiel. I rather prefer it, actually." He turned to the group. "Welcome, everyone. Who would like to start us off with sharing?"
The man with the sucker's hand shot up quickly, a mischievous grin on his face. Castiel rolled his eyes.
"Anyone? Anyone at all?" He looked around hopefully, blatantly ignoring the man with honey brown hair and hazel eyes who was now bouncing in his chair.
"Oh, oh! C'mon, Doc, me!" His voice had a tint of sarcasm to it with a carefree, light tone. Castiel sighed in defeat.
"Alright, Gabriel. Please share with the group." Gabriel winked at Castiel before standing up dramatically.
"Firstly, your tie is backwards again, Doc." He remarked. Castiel blushed and frantically worked to fix it. Dean assumed this was a common occurrence and couldn't help but smile.
"Hey guys, my name is Gabriel." He announced in common fashion.
"Hi Gabriel." Everyone mumbled in unison; Dean snorted.
"And I'm a sex addict." He smirked, licking his sucker slowly.
"Gabriel! I implore you to be serious, lest you lose your sharing privileges for a couple days like last time." Castiel said calmly, brown furrowed. Dean covered his mouth to keep from snickering aloud.
"Okay, Doc. Jeeze, no fun allowed, eh toots?" He flashed a grin at the red headed girl, who grimaced. "C'mon, don't be that way, Anna. Lighten up. Anyways, the name's Gabriel, and I've been clean of cocaine for thirty days."
There were spatters of weak applause and Gabriel bowed enthusiastically, waving his hand. Dean cocked an eyebrow at him and he winked back.
"Very.. good, Gabriel." Castiel's voice was slightly gravelly, yet pleasing to the ears. Dean really liked it. "Who wants to share next? Dean?" Dean started at the sound of his name, blushing deeply and hoping he wasn't caught staring at the doctor. Gabriel waggled his eyebrows and Dean quickly shook his head.
"Very well, it is your first time, after all. Perhaps it's better you only observe today. Annael?" He cocked his head to the side as he looked at the red head, who timidly nodded. Unlike Gabriel, she did not stand up, choosing to remain in her seat.
"M-my name is Anna."
"Hi Anna."
"A-and I'm addicted to meth." Dean wasn't surprised by this, her entire mannerism showed it. He sat quietly as she talked about her troubles as several of the others did after her. At the end of the session, Castiel turned to Dean once more.
"Dean, final chance if you'd like to share." Dean shook his head again and Castiel smiled sympathetically.
"Very well, that ends our little session for today, ladies and gentleman." He said, dismissing the group. Dean went to stand up, only to feel a soft grip on his wrist. "Dean, would you mind staying back for a moment?" Dean swallowed hard as Castiel's eyes seemed to pierce through him but nodded, sitting back down. Castiel turned his body towards him, knees touching, and Dean felt himself enjoying the warmth more than he should.
"Soon very likely starting late tonight, now that you are out of the hospital, you will begin to undergo withdrawal. It is going to be a long and painful process, Dean, but you mustn't give in. I have faith in you." He smiled and patted Dean's hand, his skin soft.
Dean had been avoiding the thought of withdrawal, but he knew the doctor was right.
"Thanks, Castiel. I'm gonna do my best." Dean was bad with portraying emotions, and his voice cracked on the last word.
"I'm rooting for you." Castiel's smile was so genuine it left Dean in wonder. He nodded and listened carefully as Castiel told him things to expect throughout the process, giving him tips on things he could do to make the process easier.
"Mild hallucinations are rather common, especially with the harder drugs such as heroin, so do not be alarmed if you hear voices or possibly see things. I know that sounds frightening, but it will pass within a few days, I promise."
Dean was admittedly panicked but nodded, walking back to his room and deciding to take a nap to calm himself.
~13 Years Earlier~
"This is gonna be great! I can't wait for you to meet my dad." Dean held Michael's hand softly, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. He only hoped his dad was sober.
Michael used his other hand to fix the collar of his shirt nervously. "I hope he likes me." He patted his light brown hair down, fidgeting slightly.
"How couldn't he?" Dean smiled, opening the door to his house. "Hey Dad, there's someone here I want you to meet!" Dean called out, pulling Michael in. John rounded the corner, empty beer bottle in hand as usual.
"Who the fuck izzat?" He slurred out, squinting at Michael.
Dean frowned. "Dad, this is my boyfriend, Michael. I told you he was coming over."
John's eyes widened at this. "What the fuck did you just say?"
"This is my boy-"
"Shuddup, I know what you fuckin' said!" John spat out. "No, you're not s'posed to have a boyfriend!"
"I.. I'm not?" Dean looked over at Michael in confusion to see he was glaring at John. "But w-why?"
"Because, no son of mine is gonna be a fag! You're a normal boy, and I won't have no fag in this house! Get this fucker outta her now!"
"But Da-"
"NOW!" John screamed, throwing the bottle at Michael, who barely dodged it.
Dean pushed Michael out of the door quickly, shielding him.
"I-i can't see you anymore. Please.. please don't tell anyone about my dad." He said sadly with tears in his eyes, closing the door before Michael could object.