Here's what I promised. Writing this chapter really got me into such a gloomy mood. I guess that's enough spoilers. Alright, I'll shut up now.

Chapter 10/?

word count: 4,286

"Dean, what are you doing here?" Jo asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Ash here?" Dean urged, because he didn't feel like wasting his time. He was here with a purpose and he wasn't going to let anything get in the way.

Jo placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, confused. "Calm down, man, you're scaring me. Did something happen?"

Dean groaned and shook his head. "Is Ash here or not?"

"No, he's with some friends," Jo said, lowering her hand to Dean's arm and taking a tight hold on him. "Why do you want him?"

"Move your hand, please," Dean panted, realizing his heartbeat was way too fast. "I really have to go somewhere right now."

Jo buried her now colored finger nails in Dean's sleeves, stubborn as always. "First you're going to tell me what the hell is going on."

Dean loved Jo, but he didn't have the time to put up with this crap at the moment. His throat was itching and he had this pain in the pit of his stomach that wouldn't settle down until he drowned it with all the alcohol he could afford. He was planning on getting so fucking wasted that he would end up poisoning his body for good so he wouldn't have to live being the poor excuse of a man Cas must have believed him to be. "Let me go, Jo. I'm warning you."

Jo actually laughed, right on his face. And for a second he thought he could hate her. Just for a small second. "Bite me."

Dean removed Jo's tightly gripped hand himself and did his best to ignore the incredibly hurt girl in front of him as he made his way to the Impala. He didn't hear a sound coming from his lifelong friend, but he was sure he would never forget that look in her eyes. If he made it after tonight.

"Hand me another fucking drink!" Dean demanded to the bartender. "My glass is empty. I'm giving you all my money. Just for the love of all that's holy give me more alcohol."

The bartender stood in front of him, looking pitifully at him. "I think you've had enough. Why don't we just call it a night and you head on home?"

Dean had trouble deciding which one of three blurry men in front of him was the real one, so he just kept bobbing his head at them all. "I don't think. I don't think you have the right to tell me what to do. No one tells me what to do."

The bartender rolled his eyes, and so did the rest of them. "I'm not going to serve you another drink."

"Fine," Dean hissed, struggling to get out of his stool. "I'm not serving you a drink." There was always an audience when Dean came to bars, so he was used to the sets of eyes glued to him as he found his way outside.

Where the fuck was Baby when he needed her? Dean looked around the parking lot, and he couldn't figure out which car belonged to him. Dean knew that as soon as he had all his senses back, he wouldn't forgive himself for this. Any of it.

After a few minutes of just standing in the same spot, having a hard time staying up, he realized the Impala was right under his nose. He gave a small smile and a hiccup and climbed right into her. He wasted a lot more time trying to put the key into the ignition than finding the car in the first place. He was just about to give up and camp in the back of the car, but his key finally went in and he started the engine. Dean still had a purpose. Only he could take a small diversion. He had to see Cas before he fell into this deep dark hole.

"You see how," Dean gulped, stopping to giggle a little. "You see how my feet keep tricking me? This one, this one right here has to go forward. You see? And then it goes backwards instead. And then I keep tripping. But I don't. I'm better than my own two feet." He stopped right outside the hospital doors. He looked all around him and realized how he had been talking to himself the entire time. Dean felt a bit silly, but that was not part of his diversion or his purpose, so he moved along.

Dean entered the hospital building, taking a deep breath, making him go into a coughing fit. As soon as it was over, he looked up and yelled "Cas? Cas, where are you? Why is it so bright in here?"

A girl—one that looked like a nurse, which she possibly was because what the hell he was in a hospital—went up to him and tried to shush him up. Dean pushed her aside, running through the rest of the hallway. He passed by the lady at the front desk and waved at her away with a wide smile. Dean made his way to Castiel's office, but the room was locked. Dean knocked on it, then turned around and found a couple cops speeding closer to him.

Dean chuckled a little before continuing down the rest of that long white hallway. A few people tried to stop him, but he shoved them all aside. Dean came to a stop when the set of doors in front of him wouldn't open, so he turned around and took a deep breath. He sat down on the floor and waited for the cops to catch up to him.

The cops said a bunch of crap to Dean that he didn't care to listen to, and they pulled him up and away. Dean kept calling out to Cas, but all he got were staring faces, and a lot of murmuring noises around him.

"Dean? Oh my god, Dean," the beautiful voice sort of woke Dean up, and he looked up to find the face. Cas was standing a few feet away from him, with a face just as broken as Jo's. Yeah, Dean had pretty much fucked it all up. Plan accomplished.

"You know this man?" One of the cops asked.

Cas' eyes filled with water and he waited for the right moment to answer. "Yes, I'm afraid so."

"We're going to have to take him off the premises."

"Alright," Cas said. "I'll come with you."

"Cas, I love you," Dean said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I love you so fucking much. It's so bad that I hate you for it. Cas, you—"

"Dean," Cas hissed. "Please be quiet."

"No," Dean shouted, angrily. "I have rights. I can say whatever the fuck I want."

Dean kept going on and on about his undying, consuming love for Castiel until the cops sat him down on the passenger seat of his car and Cas promised them he would make sure Dean didn't get out of control again. What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

Cas stood outside the car, squinting down close to Dean, who was still slurring out words to Cas that were not having the effect Dean was hoping for.

"What is this?" Cas said. He put his hands on his face, running it up to his hair and down again. "Why are you doing this to yourself? To me?"

Dean looked into the pale blue shade of Castiel's eyes. He silently wondered why they looked that way. They had no spark, no joy in them. Dean didn't like that. "I just told you I love you."

"You had to be intoxicated to say it aloud? Who wouldn't want to be me?"

Dean glared at Cas, because fuck he was not up for sarcastic comments. This was serious. And he was finally coming clean. "Cas, I didn't tell you. You don't know, but. But that other night I went to a bar with Ash. And I told him I still had game, but he wouldn't believe me. So I went up to a lot of women. And I went all Dean on them. I…I might have made out with some of them. I let them touch me. Cas, I felt like shit. I don't want any of them. I don't know why I'm so fucking stupid."

Cas swallowed hard. It looked like he was having a hard time understanding Dean's ramblings, and once he understood them, it looked like he was hoping he hadn't. "Dean, look at yourself. You're…you're not my Dean. I'm disappointed in you. What I can't seem to understand is why you keep behaving this way. You're not a teenager anymore."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You know what, Cas? Fuck off. I don't want you telling me what to do, or how to act. I'm not your puppet. You don't have control over me." That was all Dean wanted to prove. Because he was his own boss, and no one could tell him otherwise.

"How is it possible for you to tell me you love me, but show me just the opposite of that?"

Dean looked at Cas, right into those pretty eyes that he adored. No matter how many drinks he'd had tonight, he was well aware of the beauty in that man. He was also aware that he couldn't defend his point enough. "I guess it's because I don't." Dean didn't have any other explanation.

If Dean had thought Jo's hurtful look was bad enough, he didn't know what was coming. Castiel's eyes kept producing tears, and they kept rolling down his cheeks, and Dean knew perfectly well he was the reason behind this. Cas rose up, nodding his head a few times, wiping his cheeks clean with the long sleeve of his coat. Cas inhaled a rough breath, making one last teardrop roll out. Meanwhile, Dean couldn't do more that stare at his terrible creation.

"I have a long night ahead of me," Cas said, clearing his throat. "So I should head back inside."

"Cas, wait," Dean said, but he honestly didn't know how he could repair anything he'd done. "I…I went to see you tonight. You were asleep. I couldn't stop myself. I had to drink, and I wasn't going to stop. But I came to see you first. I don't know…I don't have a clue on what I'm doing."

Cas sighed, tired, so fucking tired Dean couldn't stand it. "Maybe tomorrow, Dean. Maybe tomorrow we can talk about this. Anna is waiting for me in there. She needs me."

"Yeah, of course. Go to her rescue."

Cas opened his mouth to speak, but he gave a short halfhearted smile instead. He shut the door to the Impala and Dean watched as the broken down man walked away from him, in every sense of the word.

"How many times am I going to find you this hung-over, Dean?" Sammy wondered, opening up all the windows in their apartment.

Dean cringed, covering up his face. He seriously regretted not making it to his bedroom when he got home last night. "What time is it?"

"Seven in the morning," Sam announced, too loudly. "Am I going to have to get mom involved in this again? Dean, you can't keep doing this."

"Shut up," Dean mumbled. He was honestly too tired and worn down to argue anymore.

"Did you grow some balls and talked to Cas yet?"

Cas. Shit. Shit. Shit. What the hell did he do to Cas!

Dean got up too quickly from the couch, making himself dizzy. He searched all his pockets for his cell phone and dug it out once he found it. His fingers couldn't dial Cas' number fast enough. The phone rang and rang and no one picked it up. So Dean called again, and after four times, the call went directly to voicemail.

"Fuck." All the images of his incredibly stupidity last night came flashing one after another. Why the hell did he run throughout the hospital? Dean hurt Jo, Dean hurt himself. Dean hurt Castiel. He hurt the person most undeservingly of pain.

"Oh no," Sam said, walking towards Dean. "No, no. I know that look. You didn't. You didn't fuck things up again, did you?"

Yes he did. Why would anyone expect anything less from Dean? That was all he was good for. Fucking things up. He'd done it with Cassie. He'd done it with Lisa. But this was Cas. His Cas. His very own Doctor Sexy. Dean really did it this time. He ruined the only good thing he had. The only good thing he ever wanted.

"He said we could talk," Dean murmured. "No, I clearly remember Cas said we could talk today. Then why won't he answer the phone? Shit, Cas."

Sam raised his eyebrows, expectantly. "Then get cleaned up and go find him."

Dean grinned, hopefully. "Yeah, I will go find him. He said we could talk about it. He didn't say he didn't want to see me again, even after everything I did."

"That poor sucker."

Dean glared at Sammy. "He's not going to get rid of me that easy."

Sam smiled. "Bless his soul."

"Alright, I'm going to get dressed. Man, my head is pounding. I'm going to need some pills."

"Good luck," Sammy said, and Dean had a feeling he was going to need it.

Dean figured it was still early enough for Cas to be at the hospital on watch duty, so he showed up there. He tried to be inconspicuous, even though he didn't see the same cops around.

Dean spotted Bobby speaking to a nurse near his office. He made his way to him, sending him a short grin. "Hey, Bobby."

Bobby did a double-take on Dean, as he interrupted his conversation. The nurse left moments later. "Hi, son."

"Have you, by any chance, seen Cas around?"

Bobby shook his head, and he looked just as tired as Cas had been looking lately. "He went home this morning. Poor fella lost his friend. I was there, and I know we did the best we could, but you should have seen him. He wouldn't come out of his office until morning light. Then he just left without a word."

Dean wanted to pretend he hadn't heard what Bobby had said, but that turned out to be impossible. "Anna? Anna passed away?"

Bobby grimaced, and it seemed to be more personal than Dean had thought. "She was a wonderful girl. A troublemaker at its finest. Cas stepped out for a few minutes, and when he came back in, we'd lost her. She was asking for him right before…But we can't save everyone."

"No, Bobby," Dean said. "But she was Anna. Castiel loved that girl. He was determined to save her. This is all my fault."

"What does any of this have to do with you, boy?"

Dean shook his head, still unable to process most of this. Well, not unable, just not wanting to process any of it. "Cas was with me, Bobby."

"Oh yeah, I heard you and him are together. I guess this wouldn't be a good time to congratulate you."

Dean felt himself shutting down, but he breathed. He breathed so deep, but it felt like his lungs couldn't have enough. "I did this to him. I fucking destroyed that son of a bitch."

"Well, son, you've got to go make things right with that boy. He shouldn't be alone at a time like this."

Dean turned the other way and walked merely because his feet kept moving.

Throughout his life, Dean had made many mistakes. So many that he couldn't list all at once. Some he still dwelled on. Like that time he went to Vegas on an impromptu road trip with a couple of his friends for a week and didn't tell anyone. When he came back there was a search party looking for him and he was empty five hundred dollars. Or like that time his dad missed Sammy's middle school play, so he crashed his car to make him pay for it. But Dean especially regretted the things he did when he was drunk. And what he did to Castiel was at the top of the list.

This wasn't about him anymore, though. Cas was hurting. Dean didn't know if it was for him, but it was definitely because of him. Cas lost Anna, and now he was all alone in that huge house fitted for two. Dean didn't know if Cas even wanted his company, but Dean sure as hell wanted his. He wanted to take Cas in his arms and squeeze him real tight and kiss away his tears. No matter how corny it sounded, he didn't give a damn about that anymore.

Dean didn't bother to knock or ring the doorbell. This time he used his own key first, keeping in mind how much Cas trusted him to even give him one in the first place. Dean hardly ever invited Cas over to his apartment. He tried to convince himself it was because of Sammy, but truthfully Dean was afraid they would become too domestic. After they'd agreed on their relationship, they were moving too fast.

But why was that so scary? Why couldn't Dean just accept that he liked everything Castiel had changed in him? Why couldn't he suck it up and deal with the fact that he was entirely in love with Cas, and that he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with him? And why was he so bothered to have Cas worry about him and give him good advice that would clearly help him screw up less? Saying Dean was an idiot was the biggest understatement in history.

"Cas? Castiel, where are you?" Dean found the pizza he left the night before on the same spot, untouched. He sighed, and then looked up the staircase. The house was so cold he had goose-bumps all over his body. "Cas, I'm coming up."

Castiel's white coat was wrinkled on the upstairs hallways, along with his stethoscope. Dean was afraid of what he would find on the other side of the door, but he opened it anyway.

Dean wasn't prepared for this sight. He was absolutely not prepared to see Castiel sitting cross-legged on his bed, in his boxer briefs, with his long-sleeve button down undone; his hair dry and dirty spiked in all directions, and those pair of baby blue eyes so red and swollen staring blankly ahead at the creamy wall. It wasn't just Cas' physical appearance that tormented Dean, it was those eyes that said more than Dean wanted to hear.

"Cas," Dean gasped.

Castiel didn't even look at Dean. It was like he was too far gone, like he was doing all he could to escape reality. Dean recognized that expression in Castiel. He too had felt that way many times before. But Dean couldn't stop thinking that he did this to Cas, when he was supposed to be there for him. Dean knew how much Castiel cared about Anna, but he'd always been difficult with him when it came to her. Dean had been a little jealous. What a pathetic excuse.

"Cas, I'm right here." Dean went to the bed, carefully moving closer to him, watching for a reaction he still couldn't get. "Cas, I know what happened. I'm so sorry." Dean knew those words were worthless, just hollow little things that meant nothing.

Castiel's bottom lip started to quiver, his arms moved to his chest and he pressed them tight against his abdomen.

Dean didn't care if Castiel didn't want him right now; he was going to attempt to comfort him because he couldn't take it anymore. Dean pulled Cas into his arms, hands tied on his back trying to press him closer and tighter to his body. There was so much desperation and anguish in Castiel's immediate sobs that Dean lost his own strong façade and joined him. Dean buried his face in Castiel's neck, allowing his lips to press small, velvet kisses onto it.

"Cas, baby, don't…don't cry anymore." Dean muttered close to his ear, well aware that he couldn't stop tearing up himself.

Cas finally unfolded his arms and dug them out of the tight space in between them to wrap them around Dean. His fingers clawed into Dean's skin, anxiously. Seconds later, Cas shifted his hands to Dean's shoulders and with all his might pushed him away. Dean glanced at Castiel, alarmed and confused. Castiel stared at Dean, furiously. Like he was hoping for revenge. Dean prepared himself for the worst as Castiel groaned in the back of his throat and leaned forward; however, Dean didn't expect his next move. Cas pushed Dean down on the bed until he was on his back, and he made his way to sit on top of him, with both his legs around Dean.

Cas smiled so big it looked painful. Dean didn't understand what was going through his mind, but Castiel kissed him. He kissed him as passionately as always, giving him every bit of him as possible; their tongues playing with one another and their teeth biting into their lips. Cas was like a savage, literally ripping off Dean's clothes, and whatever he couldn't he removed the proper way. Dean tried to stop him, but he was having a hard time keeping up with the other man's movements.

Cas locked eyes with Dean, right after taking a good long look at the almost naked man below him. Cas still hadn't gotten to his underwear. "You. You are a fucking asshole, Dean Winchester."

Dean gulped. He knew this was true, so he didn't make a comment to contradict Cas. Instead, he let his hands wander down Castiel's waistline.

"You are despicable, and inconsiderate, and you…you are a drunk with a minimum wage job that will get you nowhere."

That was a little more that Dean wanted to take, but he let Cas go on. He had to get it off his chest. Dean gave Cas' hips a squeeze.

"I left my cell phone and my pager in my office," Cas explained in almost inaudible murmurs. "I went out for a couple minutes, and I found you. You were so drunk and you were yelling like a maniac, and I had to leave her alone. I didn't think anything would change in just a few short minutes." Cas stopped to take a deep, forceful breath. "I had to deal with your bullshit, your fucking issues. When I returned, she was gone. I made her a promise. I left her for you. I don't think I made the right decision."

"Cas," Dean choked out. "Cas, don't say that." Dean was hoping they could communicate better, but this was not what he had waited for.

"I don't want to see you, Dean," Cas cried, and the words seemed to be like poison in his mouth. "I don't want you in my house again. I'm getting old. You seem to be stuck in your pitiful teenager stage, rebellious like my younger brother. One of these days you'll end up convulsing after your fucking binges and I won't be able to save you either. This is my limit, Dean."

Dean managed to sit up on the bed, as Castiel climbed off of him. Dean kept his eyes right on Cas', waiting for the punch line of his very unfunny joke. But Cas didn't seem to be joking. In fact, he'd never looked this dead serious before. It was Dean who had trouble accepting the consequences of his actions. "I get it," Dean said after a moment of silence.

Castiel picked up Dean's shredded clothes and handed them to him. "You can borrow some of my clothes for now. No, actually, just keep them." Cas opened up the drawer in his nightstand and pulled out a few CDs Dean had purposefully left in the house. "Take these, too. I'm going to need my key back." Cas reached out his hand, looking anywhere but at Dean. It was because he was holding back the tears this time. Even after that long cry between them, he was trying to regain his strength. It was more that Dean could say of himself.

"This wasn't meant to happen," Dean said, knowing anything he tried to say would be too late, but Dean always had a hard time keeping his mouth shut. "I fucked up. I fuck up a lot. But you—"

"I can forgive you? Again and again until I hate you more and more each day? Dean, I don't think you want that. I don't want that."

Dean put his clothes back on, ripped and all. Then he put the key in Castiel's hand, seeing as there was no turning back. Castiel looked so sure of everything he'd said. Dean knew he did wrong, but that selfish part of him wanted Cas to forgive him so they could move past it. "You're right. About everything. I'm tired of arguing. I hurt you, man, and I know an apology doesn't cut it, but it's all I can give you."

"Dean, don't waste your breath. I'm not asking for anything other than for you to leave." The coldness in Castiel's voice was clearly just an illusion because it looked like the man was having a hard time keeping it together. And that's what bothered Dean the most.

"Okay," Dean said, reluctantly. Dean knew he had no other option, and he wanted to prevent any more damage to Castiel, so he left, knowing he'd lost so much more than he ever really knew he had.

*Alright, so let me just say a few things about this chapter. I think Dean pretty much asked for this himself with everything he did. It's just so difficult not feeling bad for him, regardless of how much he deserved it. I had a really tough time writing Castiel, and being able to depict how I pictured him. I love these characters so much, but I knew this part was coming. Anyway, their story is not yet over, but yes, it is reaching its last few chapters.