Chapter 10! Sorry for any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes :D
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WHERE THERE'S A WILL (Ch. 10)
Dean navigated through the night with precision. He had always been told to be aware of his surroundings, so he knew when to turn and where as he darted through the sleepy town.
As soon as Dean made it back to his house, he ran up the stairs. Tears were running down his face. Why did he have to be so stupid? How could he just flip out on Cas and Michael like that? When Dean reached his bedroom he slumped down onto the bed, fidgeting anxiously with the hem of his shirt. Thoughts began racing through his mind. He repeatedly hit the side of his head with his balled up fists out of frustration.
Stupid, worthless.
Dean couldn't sit still. He was wound up tightly, a jittery bundle of energy. He couldn't think straight. He stood from the bed and began to pace around his room. He glanced at the worn alarm clock that sat near his bed. 8:38. He looked away and kept pacing.
It was 1:04 in the morning and Dean was still walking around his room restlessly. He couldn't sleep. It was like his brain refused to shut off. Hateful words and images flashed through his mind over and over again, as if on a reel. Everything was too much, just too much. He felt like he was suffocating. Cruel voices laughed at him in his head.
Dean looked over to his school bag where he'd been keeping his knife. He had told himself it was just for protection, a precaution. Living the life that he and his father did had taught Dean to always be prepared. But Dean knew the real reason. He knew why he checked to make sure the knife was still there every morning and every evening. He always knew.
He crossed the room in two swift steps and dug around until he found what he was looking for. He didn't even bother going to the bathroom. He needed this, and he needed it now.
He yanked up the sleeve of his shirt until a long span of deeply scarred skin could be seen.
He picked up the sharp knife and began to slice into his arm.
Angry new cuts began to mark, began to paint Dean's arm in a vivid and cruel crimson. He couldn't think, couldn't see, couldn't hear. All he knew, all he could feel was the blade as it dug deeper and deeper into his skin. Dean broke out into a cold sweat and began to breathe heavily. Dean could still hear the voices, mocking him, taunting him. More...m-more. Blood began running down his arm at an alarming rate.
What would it take for the malicious voices to finally leave him, to grant him peace?
When would these crimson tears finally be enough?
Blood began to drip from his arm forming a small puddle on the floor beneath him, but Dean was too far gone. It was like he'd shut the rest of the world out as he lost himself in the self-inflicted pain, the delicious agony that trapped him, that freed him. Time simply stopped existing. Dean firmly held on to the unforgiving blade like a life raft as unceasing waves of pain washed over him.
Five long minutes later, Dean finally stopped. He looked down at his arms. Blood was everywhere.
No, no.
Dean felt dizzy. He quickly stood. Black dots filled his line of vision. He shakily made his way to the bathroom where he could clean himself up. Once there, he held thick pads of gauze he'd found under the sink to press over the ragged and torn flesh of his arm.
Please.
It took awhile, but finally he had stopped the bleeding. He let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
Whoa.
It had been a close call. Dean wasn't usually so reckless. He looked around the bathroom. It looked like the scene of a murder. Dean winced and began cleaning the small space, throwing away all evidence of what had happened before drunkenly making his way back to his bedroom. Dean collapsed onto the bed. The voices were gone, and the exhausted teen was now surrounded by complete and utter silence. He closed his eyes and let himself be consumed by the empty darkness of unconsciousness.
For the next two weeks at school, Dean barely said anything to Cas. They still met in the mornings and sat together at lunch. Cas was even still giving him rides home. But now Dean walked with his head down, mumbled when he spoke, and rarely smiled anymore.
Cas felt miserable.
He felt that somehow, everything was his fault. Was asking Dean to stay for dinner too much? Was he mad at him now? And why did Dean think that he and Michael were going to hurt him? Nothing made sense.
It was a Tuesday and Dean and Cas were siting in Geometry, one of the classes they shared. Cas shifted in his seat. He kept making quick nervous glances at Dean's face. The blonde looked about as miserable as he felt. Cas sighed.
Dean was aware of how many times Cas looked over at him. After his freak out in the middle of his kitchen weeks ago, Dean was beyond embarrassed. Did Cas hate him? Did he want to stop being his friend now? He really wanted to make it up to him, but was too upset to bring the subject up. He absent mindedly scratched at the scars that were hidden under the long sleeves of his shirt. This really sucked.
The bell rang and the two slowly made their way to the cafeteria, neither saying a word. They sat down at their usual table in silence.
Ash, Jo, Steven, and Ana looked at each other. The uncomfortable silence between the pair was really starting to worry them.
"So…Cas," Ash was desperate to break the tension. "How is everything? You…you okay man?"
Cas just nodded his head. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts. He desperately wanted to make things right with Dean. It hurt to have his friend be so distant.
Dean wasn't doing much better. He was dying to talk to Cas. He stared blankly at the table.
"Alright, then." Ash began searching his mind for a new topic. "Um…hey!" He stood. "Check out my new shirt that my cousin got for me when she was in Roswell this past weekend!" The shirt was black with a picture of a disfigured looking alien on the front.
Steven started laughing. "Roswell as in Roswell, New Mexico? The place with the supposed UFO crash?" He was laughing even harder now.
"The one and only," Ash said with a toothy grin. He sat back down.
Jo looked disgusted. "What's wrong with it? Is that supposed to be its face or its ass? Seriously, what exactly am I looking at?" Ash gave her a mean look.
Suddenly, Cas turned abruptly to face Dean, and in the process, accidentally elbowed Ash sharply in the ribs. "Ouch Cas, what the hell!"
Cas didn't pay him any attention. He was focused on Dean. "Would you like to go hiking with me this weekend?" His words came out in a rush. "I know I only mentioned it once, but the weatherman said that the weather would be nice this weekend and...well, do you?" he sounded desperate. Intense blue orbs scanned Dean's face, silently pleading with him. Please, please, please.
Dean was surprised by Cas' sudden outburst but was overjoyed to receive the invite. So he doesn't hate me. "Y-yeah…sure. That sounds like a good idea." Dean knew the likeliness of his father being home this weekend was slim. John now spent all of his time either hunting or at the nearest bar. Dean gave Cas a weak smile. The grin Cas gave back in return was exuberant. Both felt their day had just gotten a little bit better.
"Great! I'll come by to pick you up early this Saturday…if that's okay?" Dean nodded his head. "Okay, then how does about 6:30 sound? I know that's really early but it would probably be best if we got an early start." Dean told Cas that 6:30 would be fine. He was used to waking up early and didn't mind the time at all. The bell rang overhead and the two began walking out of the cafeteria together, Cas talking excitedly to Dean as they walked. The rest of the table just stared after them in complete confusion.
"What the hell was that?" Ash was still upset over being elbowed.
"Oh, chill alien boy. At least they seem happy again." Jo had an amused look on her face.
Ash smiled to himself. Well, at least there was that.
TBC
A/N: Ooooh a hiking adventure ;3 Wonder what will come of that?
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