A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Hogwarts. Some angsty DeanPiers.
Word Cunt: 503
WARNINGS: There's some pretty graphic self-hate here.
Enjoy!
Piers took one step forwards. Then another. Then another. Soon enough, he was outside of the house, immersed in the cool night air. He looked up at the sky and just tried to breathe.
He wasn't out there long before the door opened and someone approached him. Piers didn't turn around, but he did nod in acknowledgement as Dean seated himself on the porch step next to Piers.
"Hey," the younger man said softly.
Piers ducked his head. "Hey."
"You got out of bed."
Piers winced. "Yeah."
Dean sighed softly. "Care to tell me why?"
Finally, Piers turned his eyes to his lover. "You don't have to be out here," he whispered. "I do this nearly every night, Dean, and you're losing sleep over it. Go back to bed. I'll be okay by myself."
Dean raised a brow. "Do you want me to leave?"
Piers didn't respond, though his throat felt tight. Dean had seen right through him, just as he always did. After a moment passed in silence, he felt deft fingers carding through his hair, drawing soothing circles on his scalp. He leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. For a second, some of his troubles alleviated.
But not for long.
Piers bit his lip and exhaled shakily. "I keep feeling like I've ruined things… not for myself. For other people." He'd only hinted to Dean before that he hadn't been a kind kid in his youth, but he'd never admitted to the extent of bullying he'd participated in. Especially with Harry Potter. He had a lot of regrets regarding Harry Potter. "The guilt keeps creeping up on me, and I can't sleep."
Happiness was a fragile thing, he thought bitterly. Just when he thought he could move on from his past mistakes and forgive himself, memories came back to haunt him and leave him wondering why he thought he deserved forgiveness in the first place.
Normally, he left this part out and told Dean that he couldn't sleep because of nightmares. Normally, he tried to paint himself in a light he thought Dean would like to see him in.
Tonight, something told him it was time to come clean. He didn't mention any names, but he admitted to the extensive guilt he felt, and how much it was hindering him. He told Dean all of it, and it was both terrifying and liberating.
Dean was quiet for a long time. Piers braced himself, thinking that this was it. All his secrets were laid bare. Dean had no choice now but to see him as the person he truly was.
Then a hand took his.
"I think you should talk to someone," Dean told him quietly. "Someone who can help. This torment… you don't deserve it." Dean leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to his lover's head. "You don't deserve it, babe. And we can get that happiness."
And then Piers was crying, from relief, fear, gratitude—all of it. And through it all, Dean help him without any sign of regret.