Dean stumbled into his apartment, coughing and wheezing as he went. He could hear Jet was home, by the sound of it he'd finished working recently and just got out of the shower. "I'm home." He called, still smiling about what had transpired. He'd gotten Cas to listen to him, Castiel still loved him and he could see it. They thought Dean hadn't paid attention in the last year of being with Castiel but he hadn't lied, he never lied about loving Cas and every chance he got he memorized that pretty face. He knew what love looked like in Castiel's eyes, and he knew what scorn did to his expression. Cas was hurting, he was in a lot of pain because of Dean, but he wasn't stone cold.
Cas just needed convincing that Dean was worth it.
"Hey man," Jet walked over there, his hair wet as Dean had predicted, "Whoa! The fuck happened out there?" His face pulled the concerned shock look as he ran over to Dean's side, helping him get in the rest of the way. "You look like you got hit by a freight train."
"Better," Dean chuckled, "I got hit by Michael."
"Michael?" Jet dropped Dean off on the couch and sat down beside him, "You hit him back, right?"
"No, why would I?" Dean looked over at his best friend sadly, "I deserved every punch and kick he dealt. It's kinda funny, actually, Cas talked to me. He finally talked to me."
"How's that funny?"
"The good in this case far outweighs the bad." Dean leaned back and closed his eyes with a smile, "I thought he'd never speak to me again but he did, he said I was wrong, that I never should have treated him that way and that he was wrong for putting up with it. I'm glad that," he winced as he turned his head to look at Jet again, "he's gotten so much stronger because of me, even if it was because I did something so awful to him."
Jet raised an eyebrow at his friend, "So… then if he basically said the whole thing was a mistake then why are you smiling?"
"That's not how he put it, it's hard to explain. He said he needs to walk away from me, he said that he can't take me back right now because it'd be too easy, because it would mean that he really is a doormat and anyone could walk on him. Cas said so himself, he can't take me back this easily." Dean knew he was crying again but he didn't care, "That means he can but it'll take a lot of effort. I can do this, Jet. I can win him back."
"As long as you have some hope I don't care what you do, just don't get those hopes too high, 'kay?" Jet pat him on the shoulder and got up, heading to the kitchen, "I'm making a late supper, you want something?"
Dean just sat on the couch with a smile plastered to his swollen face. At least until he realized he didn't know where to find him, "What if he doesn't answer my texts?"
"Dude-"
"I don't know where he is, what if he doesn't answer and then just poof, he's gone?"
"-I just asked about supper-"
"What if I never see him agai-"
"DEAN!" Jet shouted over him, "For the love of fuck do you want food or not?"
Dean fidgeted and nodded, "Yeah…"
Jet turned back to the fridge angrily, "If he's going to take you back eventually and he meant what you think he meant then you'll find a way to get back to him. Don't start worrying and freaking out over something so stupid, Cas is locally famous, people love him and you know where he likes to hang out. It'll be simple for you to find him."
"But he wasn't in any of those places these weeks…"
"Because you broke his heart, dumbass. He sounds like he's doing better so I'd wager he'll be venturing out again. What happened to that stupid hope you just had?"
"I don't-"
"You don't know? NO! You don't fucking know!" Jet reeled on him again and threw his arms in the air, "Because every time you get hopeful you don't think you're worth that. You know what fucked up your relationship? You did, you know why? Because you base everything that you are on what someone else fucking thinks of you! A lot of people do that but you take it to a whole new level of stupid. You hear all the bad things and listen to them, base who you are on that. You hear the shallow crap and become the fucking jock douche-bag that hits on every chick in a skirt. But when you have a boyfriend who loves you endlessly and tells you you're amazing every fucking day, do you listen to that? Do you become what he sees? NO! You base yourself on a bitch that you haven't thought of or cared about in almost ten fucking years!" He pointed at Dean repeatedly as he said the word 'you', emphasizing his point until he drove it home. "Fucking get your shit together, Winchester! If you think for even a second that you can win Castiel back then do it."
"Jet-"
"Do I look like I'm fucking done yelling at you? Shut the fuck up, Dean. No more excuses, I'm sick of your shit. You're whining and crying 'I deserve this,' 'he's gone,' 'don't pity me because I caused this' and you're right, you do deserve a punch in the face, he is fucking gone, and no one plans on pitying you because you're an idiot! But you know what'll work better than bitching about it? DOING SOMETHING! If you love him then let him know! LET EVERYONE FUCKING KNOW! Make damn sure when he goes to his favourite fucking places someone there says, 'Dean was here, he loves you.' He goes to a fucking burger joint and someone asks if he's Castiel and he says 'yes' and they say 'a guy named Dean came in saying to tell you he loves you.' I want to hear about him getting some beautiful-ass present and he goes 'why' and the person handing it to him says 'because Dean fucking loves you.' ARE YOU HEARING ME!?"
"Yes!" Dean was so caught up in Jet's rant he shouted right back. Something about Jet just kind of dragged you into his emotional state.
"But are you LISTENING? Become more than what he thinks you are because you are! I know you are, I've been your fucking friend since kindergarten, I know what you are and I know who you are. This shit isn't you, this whiny little bitch isn't Dean Winchester, he's a guy who fucks up but makes it right again. He does what he has to and you know what?"
"What?" Dean was wiping his eyes again, not wanting to cry anymore but it'd been a long time since he'd ever gotten a talking to like that.
"I think you know what you have to do." The tenseness in Jet's limbs loosened and he turned back toward the kitchen without another word.
Dean watched his friend's back for a few moments in shocked silence before smiling again, "Thanks Jet."
"You're welcome. How does pizza sound?"
"Excellent."
Cas walked into Michael's place again, he'd already done all the scolding that was necessary, Michael knew where he stood on the whole 'beating the crap out of people' thing. "I still can't believe you did that…"
"I was pissed." Michael undid his tie and started tossing off the excess layers he was wearing until he was just in the button-up shirt and slacks. Of course he kept the clothing folded over his arm, going to his bedroom to drop them off. "I've been wanting to do that for weeks."
Castiel sighed and sat down on the couch, looking at the wall blankly, the old jar still in the palm of his hand. Dean had kept that little heart, he remembered handing it over, asking so playfully if there was room in Dean's jar for his heart. That stupid awful pick up line that Dean first used on him, the one that made him smile, the one that sent a little jolt through his heart like a wake up call. "Dean…" He whispered the name like he had done so many times before, he brought the glass container up to his face to look at it again. He missed it, he missed being held after a performance, he missed driving home in the Impala, falling asleep with the warmth of Dean's body next to him. He missed the quiet conversations in the middle of the night, the way Dean would talk in his sleep or startle Cas awake with a snore. He missed it but he could live without it.
He could live without it. Castiel kept telling himself that. He continued to say that he didn't need anyone, ever, and while it was true that he was a strong individual, he shone brightly all on his own and didn't need another person with him, he still felt better with someone there. Castiel was more than capable of being all that he could be, of being more than that, just by being himself and helping others. He'd done it for years before meeting Dean, Cas didn't need to be reassured of that. What he needed was to know that he would never let love do that to him again. He needed to show himself how that experience hadn't ruined him.
Hell, he just needed to get better and heal. It was a slap in the face, all over again. He'd thought he'd learned from the last one, he thought he had gotten better with it and didn't become the throw rug he had been. Apparently he was a different kind of idiot this time, just letting himself be put in a situation where he couldn't do what he wanted. He hated it. He hated knowing that he'd do that for someone else.
Never again. Never again would he just bend over backward or change who he was. If he ever dated again he'd make sure they knew that, he'd show them who he was and if they didn't like it, if they were scared or ashamed to be with him, then they would be thrown out like the trash that they were. Castiel was done.
And if, if that next person happened to be Dean again, if he ever took Dean back, things would be different – but that was only if Dean somehow managed to make it better. To fix something that Cas wasn't sure he wanted to be fixed. He got up and walked past Michael in the hall, "I'm taking my phone back." He said before disappearing into his older brother's room.
"It is yours, I won't stop you." Michael watched him go, wondering if he should say anything more than that. "Cas, I'm sorry. I told you I'd just talk to him-"
"Don't worry about it Mike," Cas reemerged with his cell, checking the messages as he went, "I know why you did it, and… and I'm sorry for putting you through that again." He looked up at the sad expression he hadn't wanted to see on Michael's face, "I guess I'm pretty selfish when it comes to you."
"Kind of," Michael smiled and went to hug him, "But that's what little brothers are for."
"I guess," Cas nuzzled his cheek against Michael's before heading toward his room, or at least Michael's guest room that he'd been occupying. "I'm going to bed, okay? I'll see you in the morning."
"Good night, Cas."
"'Night." Castiel closed the door and leaned against it, every text Dean had left him tugged at his heart and made him want to scream but he didn't. He saw there were more than thirty voicemails and the thought of listening to them all made his stomach knot. He wasn't sure if he dared do it but before he knew what was happening he'd put the glass jar on his bedside table and had the phone glued to his ear.
Castiel lowered himself onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling as he listened to each word Dean said, some of them were so strained and hoarse from crying, some were lost in uncontrollable sobs, others were ear piercing as Dean wailed his apologies and self-loathing into the line. Cas felt a tear slide down his face each time he hit delete and listened to the next message, he could feel Dean's pain through the messages he left and it felt like a hand was choking his heart out. Although Dean's begging forgiveness and pleading for Cas to just say one word to him was a strong indication of his feelings, the one message that broke Castiel in two was when there were no words. A message Dean had no strength to speak anymore and all he could do was cry for the few minutes that the machine would allow him to. The one that followed was just as painful and Dean managed to say one thing at the end of it, "I miss you, baby."
Cas' jaw trembled and he lifted his free hand to cover his eyes, everything felt tense in his body and that gross feeling in his chest just wouldn't stop. "No, I'm mad at you." He blubbered to his empty room, to a phone that Dean wasn't actually on the other end of. "I'm mad at you… don't… don't make me love you."
He couldn't listen anymore, there were another ten or fifteen to go and he just couldn't take it. Cas put in the necessary passwords and deleted all the messages without hearing them, he couldn't take it, not then and not ever. Cas rolled onto his side and curled up, holding himself because there was no one else to do it. It was another Friday night and he was alone again.
He was never alone Friday nights, not in the last year and now three weeks in a row he had to go to bed without Dean by his side. It hurt, everything ached and his chest felt like it was on fire and drowning at the same time. He sent a single text to Dean and dropped his phone on the bedside table beside his jar.
It hurts.
Castiel was shaking and his mind was a mess, he pulled the covers up to the best of his ability and tried to cling to himself, but it just wasn't the same. He was barely aware of his surroundings and when Michael opened the door he didn't know what brought him there.
"Castiel, what's wrong?" Michael was at his side in seconds and trying to calm him down. Cas intended to answer but he realized that his mouth was already open and his vocal chords were in use. He'd been screaming, crying out and wailing and he had no idea when he'd started to. Michael sat on the bed and scooped Cas up, cradling him and rocking him gently. "Shh, it's okay. You're not alone, I'm right here."
Slowly Castiel calmed down again, very slowly and after an hour or two he'd started to fall asleep. Michael wanted to scream too but he didn't, instead he tried to lay Cas back down but his little brother refused to let go of him.
"Please stay." Cas whispered.
Michael couldn't remember the last time he'd shared a bed with someone but he couldn't exactly say no. "Alright, I'm going to move you over though okay?" He replied softly, lifting Cas up and shuffling him to the other side of the bed. Michael climbed in not caring that he was still wearing part of his suit, and let Cas snuggle up to him. Castiel was sleeping in minutes but Michael couldn't quite get there. He just kept replaying punching Dean in the face, over and over in his head and wished he could do it again. But harder.
Author's Note:
Jet's still my favourite 'OC' of all time.