Mr Novak 4
"I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close."
― Pablo Neruda,
Waking up the next morning was strange. It was about ten-fourty-five. No Cas, just a strange smell, that smelled just like Cas. He had to call the psychiatrist, since he'd bothered Dean about it in passing. Dean punched in the numbers with an eye roll. After four rings, someone picks up.
"Hello, this is Matthew Higgins office. What do you need?" He was straight to the point. No more beating around the bush, asking obscure questions. Maybe this won't be so horrible.
"Hello, I was referred because I had a psychotic break yesterday due to not sleeping for three days."
"Hmm. I have a cancelation for today at four. Would that work?"
"Yes! That's perfect!"
"Please bring a friend or family member. We need perspective."
"I've got it, doc. We'll see you at four." There was no response, aside the dial tone. The man had an undertone of arrogance, and they haven't even met. Scratch earlier thought, this will probably be awful.
After a few minutes of laziness, Dean started cleaning the Novak home. Purposefully avoiding Gabe's room. Who knew what was in there, stink bombs, flash bangs, maybe even a bucket of water over the door. With the infamous trickster, you never knew.
Dean padded around Cas' place for a while after stealing one of Cas' t-shirts, he really didn't have anywhere else to be. He sent Cas a text asking if he was busy at four, unfortunately he didn't recieve the response he'd been hoping for. Cas has a few parent conferences for students who have been acting unruly. Sam was going out with Jess after school, so Dean knew who he had to ask. He'd ask Ash but that's not a first impression he'd like to make. Ash isn't one who cleans up very well, it was impossible to do so with a mullet. Calling Jo felt like the walk of shame on a Sunday morning.
"Hey, Dean. Whatcha need? Will it cost me?" Dean rolled his eyes as he looped around the house one more time before deciding he was going to go home and clean, get things done. He wrote down a note for Castiel, 'At the doctors, call you tonight, Dean. If theres an emergency I'm in Dr. Higgins office in room three hundred fifty-seven.' Then plopped it on Cas' pillow.
"Why does everyone always think I need money? I'm seeing that psychiatrist, he said I need to bring someone, everyone else has been ruled out. Are you busy at four?" Dean bit his lip nervously, he didn't want to have to beg Bobby to come to some psych doctor and talk about his friggin feelings with him. At least Jo knows some fucked up shit about Dean, so knowing his feelings about said fucked up shit wouldn't be so life damaging.
"I'm supposed to do inventory but I'll skip out for your pretty Ken doll face. Pick me up at the bar at three-thirty. Don't be late!" She said, her voice was laden with something that sounded like excitement. Dean didn't know why. Jo did though, she would finally be able to get all of Dean's inner demons taken care of. He doesn't deserve to have to walk around with such a weight.
Dean felt like he'd been punched in the gut when he pulled up to his garage door. In bright red paint there was one word written across, the letters bold and huge.
Coward.
But what made his self esteem significantly drop was when he checked for the mail. There were dozens of print outs saying Cowardly Faggot, as well as adult gay to straight camp brochures. He tossed them in the recycling bin and ran inside, feeling embarrassed and like he was going to be ill. This felt like some high school prank with an adults mind.
Sent at 12:27
To: Castiel.
Are you busy right now?
Dean felt bad about texting Cas during work, he really did. He also felt selfish and self absorbed among other things. He knew Cas had a lot to do this past week, so bothering him during work for the second time in one day was bad in Dean's book.
Received at 12:32
From: Castiel
Kinda. You okay, Dean?
No. He really wasn't, not in the slightest. But he didn't respond. Not with a lie, or anything at all. He just deleted the conversation feeling like the biggest jerk in the world. Dean mentally noted to not bother Cas at work anymore. Instead he dialed Jo's number for the second time that day.
"Dean? I thought it wasn't for a few hours?"
"It's not." His voice was raw like he'd eaten a handfull of glass and gravel. Jo picked up on that.
"Dean, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing. Are you busy?" Dean felt like he'd said that a lot today.
"Not too busy for you, Ken Doll. I'll be over asap." He wondered how Jo always read him like a book. Him being the worn out, falling apart book behind the shelf of newer and better books.
"No! No. Uh, I'll come to the bar. Just not my house, not my house." His voice was pleading. Which worried Jo more than usual.
"Now it's not a choice. I'll be there soon."
Dean turned his phone off after that.
Waiting for Jo felt like watching the clock during high school on the last day before summer break. Long, frustrating, and plain horrible. He knew how Jo would react. Anger, mostly. With frustration and eventually ending up apologizing with a big hug and offering tequila.
Dean had been right about most of it. Just not the hug. Apparently she was too angry, and she'd hug him tonight after the doctors appointment when she was drunk enough to calm down, not wanting to find the assholes and rip their throats out. Dean didn't feel angry at all, which shocked Jo. He just felt ashamed of himself.
Two power shots of tequila later, Dean had started to wish he hadn't done this on an empty stomach, the doctor is going to think he's an alcoholic. Least he wouldn't be an anxiety ridden mess. But he that didn't stop him from knocking back another. Power shots had a lot more alcohol, so in most terms he'd had about five shots. This wasn't going to end well. He could already feel it hitting him.
"Did you tell Cas?" Jo asked, flipping through channels. She'd finally stopped trying to wash the garage door, mentally noting to buy paint remover on the way back from the psychiatrist.
"I was going to, I asked him if he was busy, when he said kinda I didn't respond. Turned my phone off after I talked to you." Jo looked at his like he'd just told him he'd set his own tie on fire.
"Are you insane?" She asked, slightly louder than needed.
"Maybe?" He said, trying to avoid the topic.
"You already opened the door with your stupidity and let it hit you on the way out. Turn your freaking phone on and apologize! He's probably worried!"
"Jo, one missed response won't worry him." He wasn't one hundred percent sure. It'd worry him if Cas asked if he was busy then never responded.
"Dean, don't be a fucking idiot. You don't ask that then never respond. It's asking for trouble!" Dean was in the process of turning on his phone as Jo yelled at him.
Received 12:38
From: Castiel
Dean?
Received 12:45
From: Castiel
Can you freaking respond? You've already given me one stroke in less than two days. I don't want another.
2 Missed Calls.
1 Voicemail
"Dean, you're worrying me. I'm literally standing in a bathroom stall at work trying to reach you, can you just call me back and tell me what's wrong? I'm pretty sure I'm giving a ninth grader a nervous bladder."
Dean felt like a bigger jerk than he already had.
Sent at 1:36
To: Castiel
I'nm rerally sorry.
Received at 1:39
From: Castiel
No explanation? Just a text apology? Dean I will sex starve you if you don't explain what the hell is going on.
Sent at 1:43
To: Castiel
I've hade a realley bad day, babe. Please don't b4e mad
Received at 1:45
From: Castiel
Are you drunk? Seriously?
Sent at 1:46
To: Castiel
Mahybe a litttle.
Jo took the phone from Dean after that.
Sent at 1:47
To: Castiel
It's Jo. After work swing by his house. He'll be at his psych appointment, but itll explain why he's a slobbering mess. He wasn't supposed to drink this much anyway.
Received at 1:54
From: Castiel
Just don't let him drive.
She plugged the phone into the charger before going out to the recycling bin and retrieved the print outs and brochures, and threw them on the ground infront of the garage door with a note saying 'Go home, Castiel.' She may like Cas, she does, truly. But he wasn't the one mending Dean's broken heart today.
Dean has a bad habit of making a mess into chaos when he's drunk. Sure there were some dirty dishes, misplaced magazines, and empty coffee cups littered everywhere. But this was like a tornado has gone through his house. His friends and family knew that, they lived it since he was fifteen. So when Jo finally drug Dean out of the house with her coffee card in hand, the house was an utter wreck. He'd dumped out his laundry basket, broken a mug, and left a chair overturned.
"Dont you think this is all a little selfish?" Balthazar asked, swirling creamer into his awful teachers lounge coffee. They were both waiting for parents to arrive for conferences.
"Balth, this is what relationships are. I know if I'm there for him, he'll be there for me in return. I don't want to see him hurt, I know getting that call from Jo nearly killed me. You saw me!" His voice cracked.
"You're going through a shit load too. Cas you've only been here since the start of this school year. That's not a lot of time to just move on, no matter how many hot fire fighters parade into your bed. You were a wreck when you first got here. Do you not remember that?"
"Of course I remember! It just.. Everything is easier to deal with when I'm with him. That's got to mean something, right?"
"Sure it does but that doesn't mean you don't have some healing to do as well. You're not getting drunk over god knows what. Not much can happen in a few hours, Cas!" Cas tried to remind himself Balthazar was just trying to look out for him, but it didn't mean his white hot anger was invalid.
"Dean has gone through his own mountain of bullshit too, Balthazar. I'm pretty sure you weren't the one seeing him wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. I may not know much of his story, but you can't fake that much pain." Cas snapped.
"Fair enough. Does he even know what happened to you?" He questioned, adding a considerable amount of sugar to his coffee before opening the door for the both of them.
"No. I don't think I'll ever tell him, to be honest."
Balthazar nodded in understanding.
A wave of nausea hits Dean before reaching the third floor, Jo managed to steal a few of those fancy vomit bags from the nurses station before all things went to hell. They were both sitting against the cement wall of the stairwell, thanking God that Dean didn't have any hair for Jo to hold back, because that would be too cliche for them to handle. Person A drinks when they shouldn't. Person B holds their hair as person A vomits at a very bad time.
"I'm never drinking again." Dean groaned, Jo laughed genuinely.
"Sure, buddy. You've been saying that since high school, Mr. Hot shot. Just promise me to never get wasted before a very important doctors appointment, alright? And never give your boyfriend another heart attack either?" Dean just gagged, Jo took that as a 'Okay Jo whatever you say.'
"Cmon, buddy, we've got to get up there. No doubt theres paper work to fill out, we can't hang out vomitting any longer." She said, shoving a mint into Dean's mouth while dragging him off the ground. She sent out a silent prayer that shoving Dean into a cold shower and four cups of espresso would save them.
Sitting in the waiting room was like being sweat out, waiting to get caught. Dean sat slouched over in his chair while Jo filled out the paper work for him. The wonders of having an overly nosey best friend.
"Mr. Winchester?" The doctor asked coming out of their offices. Dean internally groaned as he stood up with Jo. She held out the clip board to the doctor as he ushered them in.
The doctor looked over the information, especially where it noted major symptoms. Anxiety, Depression, and Insomnia.
"So, Mr. Winchester, can you elaborate? Any reason for these symptoms?" Jo flinched as she waited for Dean to say something stupid. He didn't. He was just sadly honest.
"Fourteen years of drunken abuse and abandonment issues." He slurred, making Jo bite the inside of her cheek as she saw the doctors eye brow raised.
"Have you ever used alcohol to deal with your issues?" The doctor asked with an accusatory tone, making Dean laugh. A long breathy laugh, throwing his head brack.
"I'm not an alcoholic, Doc."
"Then why are you in my office drunk, Mr. Winchester?" There was annoyance in the doctors voice. Jo answered for Dean before he could embarass himself. Knowing Dean, he would. Then he wouldn't shut up. She's been dealing with drunk Dean for far too long. Cleaning up his drunken messes, too.
"That's my fault. Someone wrote coward on his garage door and filled his mailbox with hate mail. I figured hey why not some liquid self confidence? But then he kept going. I can't exactly stop him. Not that he's violent, god no. Dean's a magnanimous man, honestly. Sure he doesn't look it but it's true. He would never seek out to hurt someone. But honestly he's twice my size, it's not like I can hold him down and say no more booze. Well I could after he was drunk enough.." Jo needed shut up but she didn't, "Doctor, I'm going on and on here but he's been so sad for so long. He's happy for now, but what if this guy doesn't work out? It'd crush him." Dean nodded off somewhere in that rant.
"Miss, while he's asleep how about you tell me everything you know, then we'll wake him up and have him tell us what he feels is important. We'll decide on medication after that."
Conferences went by slowly, nearfully painfully. Parents thinking their kids a saint as always, Cas having to show proof, parent disapproval, dragging out by the ear with talk about grounding for life. Or denial, which was far more annoying. Cas couldn't help but feel angry. Not throw something at the wall angry, but enough that he had to bite his tongue to make it through work. Dean can't bother to stop Cas' worrying because he's too busy getting drunk in the middle of the day and hanging out with Jo? He swore he meant more to Dean than that. Just the night before he'd said that he thinks he loves Cas, and now he's an after thought.
Things went downhill the moment Cas left the school building. First, he found out his tires were slashed and windows smashed in. One note taped to the door, all though it seemed more like a note for everyone else than for Castiel. 'Fucking a killer.' Now he was throw something angry, chucking his phone as far as he could. Something was satisfying about watching the phone smash against the cement and skid away. Cas wasn't sure if he was angry about the fact that someone trashed his car, or if it was because they thought of Dean as a killer. More so the latter than anything else. Dean jumped up onto the table, yelling 'What the fuck is that thing?' when he saw a mouse run through the kitchen with Castiel's cat in pursuit. If anyone was a killer, it certainly wasn't Dean. Though his cat probably was since they never saw a mouse again.
Walking away from the school parking lot he still felt angry. He was tempted to just skip stopping by Dean's house, and just go home for a shower. But he knew that he should at least see what Jo wanted him to, since it was on the way anyway.
The walk to Dean's house was cold, and wet. Rain didn't help make his day any better. The thunder didn't make do anything positive either. He turned onto Dean's road planning on borrowing a jacket from Dean's house since his clothes had soaked through. Cas hadn't planned on seeing big fat red letters on Dean's garage door, or the hundreds of soaked papers and brochures with a note addressed to Cas.
Go Home, Castiel.
So he did. But that didn't change the fact that he felt horrible about all the anger he'd been feeling. since the moment Dean texted him drunk only hours before. The walk home was lonely and guilt ridden. Cas felt stupid for being angry for something he didn't even know the whole story. Cas would be having a bad day too if someone had done that to him. It was awful when his older brother tried to convince his parents to send him to straight camp, but thankfully his parents were much more accepting than Michael. So remained at home, then college. He's grateful for the life he's lived, never worrying about money, food, or shelter. Some things that certain kids would kill for. A college education that would trump most peoples in a heartbeat, and for the most part a family who loves him for he is.
Dean would have been one of the kids killing for Castiel's life. Abuse, neglect, malnutrition, barely graduating high school. No one batted an eye lash until middle school when Dean realized he wasn't normal. That not everyone liked boys and girls. That not everyone had one or two meals a day. Especially that not everyone felt like the world would be better off without him in it. One day, someone noticed Dean was different. Gordon Walker. Shoved his head into the toilet until he was choking and sputtering for air. So Dean took a baseball bat during the middle of passing period and smashed in Gordon's locker until a teacher had to restrain him. No one bothered Dean after that. Most people stopped talking to Dean all together. Ticking time bomb. Tick. Tick. Tick. High school was better, football and his best friends helped the situation. He was going to play baseball during the spring but found out Gordon Walker was on the team. Put a bat in Dean's hands with Gordon in the room was asking for homocidal tendencies.
Cas could hear the sloshing in his shoes by the time he got home, when he opened the door he heard Gabe start to yell.
"Cassie! Your boy toy cleaned our house! And left you a love note on your bed!" Gabriel actually hadn't read it, but he would like to believe it's a love note confessing his undying love and proposing that they run off to London to get gay-hitched in fashion.
"What?" Cas asked, but when he walked through the home it was obvious. Things were in order, dishes were cleaned and put away, the laudry baskets were filled with clean and folded clothes. Dean went above and beyond. So Cas rushed up the stairs to find the note, not bothering to even reply to Gabe. Or question what the hell he was doing in Cas' bedroom. Personally at this moment he didn't care.
His bed was straight, two pillows on Cas' side just like he prefers, brown side of the comforter up. Everything was just how Cas liked it. Dean either really listens or really cares. Maybe both. Then he saw it, a folded up piece of paper with 'Cas' written on it in Dean's admittedly beautiful handwriting.
'At the doctors, call you tonight, Dean. If theres an emergency I'm in Dr. Higgins office in room three hundred fifty-seven.'
Cas stood there thinking, "This definitely counts as an emergency."
He's ran before, long distance, sprinting, anything. But he's never ran so fast in his life. So when he reached room three hundred and fifty-seven, he felt accomplished. But he prayed that Dean was still here. Cas sat in the uncomfortable waiting room chair in his sopping wet clothes with his hair drooping with the weight of the water. It looked like he'd taken a shower with his clothes on. Maybe he could have gotten a college scholarship for track during high school if they'd dangled Dean at the finishing line.
"Dean, Dean wake up. The doctor needs to talk to you." Jo said, shaking Dean from his slumber with a jolt. No one needs to know for once he wasn't haunted by a nightmare. Just deep blue eyes.
"Mphmmm?" He mumbled, eyes focusing on the doctor. Everything was blurry like he needed glasses.
"Is it true that you'v been depressed, anxious, and minorly suicidal in your past?" Dean choked on his own spit.
"What?"
"Yes or no, please."
"Yes." His voice is sheepish and scared. He didn't want to end up in a nuthouse. He could hear his father screaming 'You weak screw up!'
"Is it true you have nightmares, smell or hear things that aren't real, and close yourself off from other people?" Dean nodded. Jo truly read him like a book, because some of that he'd never even told her.
"Okay, Mr. Winchester. Everything I've heard caan easily be linked to three things. Major depression, severe anxiety, and post traumatic stress disorder."
"Isn't that for moms who lost their kid?" Dean's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He was ninety percent sure he didn't have the anatomy for that. The doctor slid a hefty pile of prescriptions across the desk, which Jo picked up and rifled through. Most of them she'd never heard of. Paxil, Xanax, Prazosin, Seroquel. But there were two she definitely knew. Ambien, and Adderal.
"That's postpartum depression. Post Traumatic stress disorder, PTSD, is caused by a traumatic event in someones life. Often found in war veterans, rape vi-" No. Just no. Dean wanted to stick his index fingers in his ears and yell 'lalala' But he couldn't do that, he's not nine anymore. So he opted for the only other option his unrational mind could come up with.
"Absolutely not! I don't! No! That never!" Dean was yelling, loud. He wasn't angry. He was scared. Dean lauched himself up from the chair, still yelling his heart out, when the door swung open.'
"This is a closed session!" The doctor yelled, now everyone in the room standing.
Soaking wet, pre-hypothermic, Castiel Novak.
"Tell him that never happened, Cas! Tell him!" Dean was in a full out panic. He felt like he couldn't breathe, think, or even stop the slow trickle of a few tears falling down his face. Cas didn't even question the choice he made to just hug Dean and not let go. Dean's face burried into Cas' neck. Jo was up, trying her best to help with the situation
"Doctor! It's the boyfriend, don't worry!" She said, voice faltering. She had no idea what was going on anymore. Why Dean was freaking out, what Cas was doing here, or even what the hell these drugs were. Are they even safe? Will he get fired? God when she woke up this morning she'd expected going to work, talking to Ash, and probably sleeping in a booth at the bar. Not this, definitely not this. Life certainly liked throwing them all massive curveballs lately.
When Jess pulled into the Winchester driveway, Sam froze. Coward. He knew it wasn't for him. He noticed Dean's car was gone, so Sam was obviously worried. He darted out of the car with Jess behind him. When he walked into the house, it smelt like booze. So when he found the overturned tequila bottle in the living room with things scattered everywhere, Sam knew what it ment. Dean was drunk, gone, and upset. Shit.
Sam grabbed the landline, calling Dean's cellphone. He called a half dozen times before giving up. He called Cas a few times, still nothing. Silence from Jo as well. Sam felt like his world was crashing into itself. Jess tried to comfort him, holding his arm, raking her fingers up and down Sam's back. Sam called Rufus, hoping maybe Dean showed up at the firehouse out of his mind.
"Yello'?" Rufus grunted.
"It's Sam, is Dean there by any chance? The place is trashed, his car is gone, and theres tequila all over the floor. No ones answering! I don't know what's going on!" Sam's voice was frantic.
"Breathe, kid. I'll call Bobby, get some guys together, we'll find him. Don't freak out just yet." Rufus said, much less hostile.
"Oh-Okay." Soon after, the small makeshift rescue team was scowering the streets looking for Dean. So when Dean's car pulls into the driveway at around eight that night, Sam was crushed with relief. But Castiel carrying the unconcious Dean with Jo behind him was worrying.
"Is he okay?" He croaked, Cas nodded with a small smile.
"Just passed out." Cas said at the same time that Jo went on a nervous tangent.
"I got him drunk and he fruited out and the doctors office then Cas showed up and saved our asses. Oh and we picked up his meds." Jo held up the pharmacy bag sheepishly. It looked huge for just medication. Dean went from being the guy who didn't even take his vitamins to 'I have a pharmacy in my medicine cabinet' overnight. She held the medication instructions in hand. Adderal in the morning, Xanax as needed, the rest at bed. Sam read them over with Jo as Cas tucked Dean in and slipped in next to him.
"Cas?" He asked, coming out more like "Cashbd?"
"Mmm?" Cas said with a sloppy smile.
"I love you, babe." He slurred, draping his arm over Cas.
"I know, Dean. I know." Cas kissed him on the head before Dean slipped back out, leaving Castiel alone with his thoughts.
"So what'd the doctor say?" Sam asked, looking over the medication labels. His friend was taking medical classes at the community college, he'll have to call later to get a better gist of the meds since the papers that came with them were filled with medical terms that he frankly didn't understand.
"Depression, anxiety, and PTSD."
"Post traumatic stress disoder?" Sam asked, mouth gaping slightly. The others he could understand easily, but that? Sure it was plausible, a lot of bad things have happened to his brother. But apparently he hid his problems much better than Sam had ever thought.
"That's what I thought." Jo mumbled, lost in her own thoughts as Cas comes downstairs. They catch him up on everything he's missed.
He simply says, "Oh." Before retreating back to Dean's bed, vowing to never leave Dean alone again. No one can hurt his Dean.
