Prologue

Hello everyone, welcome or welcome back in case you came here from my fix-it, either way I'm thrilled you might want to give this a try! Just a short prologue yet, but I hope you'll find it intriguing:)

No beta for this, sadly...

I don't wanna say too much here, don't want to give everything away yet, just wanted to say again that even though this is a story about healing and helping each other to do so, we're dealing with a trauma that might be very real for people out there and shouldn't be taken lightly, so even if this is a work of fiction and tries to focus on the fluff (and healthy smut), please look out for yourselves and heed the tags! And if anyone notices something that might be a trigger and I forgot to mention it, let me know and I'll add it to the warnings in the tags!
Thanks yall, and thanks for reading!

Title from "Mine" by Taylor Swift

~oOo~oOo~oOo~

As soon as it was done, he left.

He left Dean's body and Dean left the room.

He knew that he couldn't leave Cas like this, shouldn't leave Cas like this, but he couldn't stay, he couldn't look at him, couldn't touch him, couldn't see skin his own hands had left blemished and tainted and torn, couldn't see the angel violated and hurt and broken by his own body.

The door unlocked the moment he had done what he'd come for, had taken and destroyed and left. It flew open, revealing Sam who he knew had been furiously beating against the wood while- while...oh God, he was gonna throw up.

His brother looked shocked at the picture that unfolded in front of his eyes, his features contorted in disbelief and disgust at the crumpled and naked figure in the centre of Dean's mattress.

Dean's mattress. In Dean's bed. In Dean's room.

He felt sick.

He pushed himself forward on shaky legs and blindly stumbled out of the room, just away, away from here, away from that sight, away from the evidence. As if that would somehow make it undone, erase his weakness and shame. He heard that Sam called something after him as he hurried down the corridor, but he didn't hear it through the blood rushing in his ears. Everything was blurry and his feet didn't work quite right, he fell a few times on his way but didn't even feel the pain that shot through his knees when they collided with the hard stone floor.

He didn't know what room it was that he finally found himself in, one of the spare ones they didn't use, he didn't care which, hadn't paid attention to where his feet had led him. The door fell shut and he fell to the floor, head spinning and body trembling with fear, exhaustion, fury.

He couldn't keep his breathing under control. He felt close to fainting, like he was lacking oxygen even though his panting breaths drew in the air in big irregular gulps, but it didn't seem to reach his head. His hands were clenched by his side, nails digging deep into his palms, biting into his skin and probably drawing blood.

He hoped they did. Those hands deserved to feel at least a fraction of the pain they inflicted. He deserved to feels all the pain he could gather to let it wash over him until he drowned in it.

If he drowned and died, perhaps he wouldn't have to face the damage he'd done, the damage he knew he could never undo.

If he drowned perhaps he could pretend it never happened, deny that he'd let it happen.

If he drowned, perhaps he could forget.

~oOo~

With the calm came the sensations.

The world around was still in a haze, but it felt like he was suddenly hyperaware of his own body. His body, which had been used to use Cas' in return. His lips were tingling from how hard they'd been pressed against the angel's, his tongue too heavy at the sickening memory of how it had forced itself into the other's mouth, more an attack than a kiss, aggressive and violating. He gagged at the taste of blood from where he was biting down on the inside of his cheek, the copper taste of his own fresh blood mixing with the aftertaste of Cas' when he'd sunk his teeth into the angel's bottom lip.

Dean spat out in disgust, fell forward with his hands on the cold ground, his shaky arms barely supporting his own weight. He was weak, tired, drained. Everything ached with the awful post-orgasmic pleasure that made him want to claw his own skin off, get rid of every trace of an unwanted bliss that had been torn out of him, against his will and out of his control. It made him sick, knowing, feeling that despite the unimaginable horror his body had enjoyed it, had been forced to enjoy it. Objectively it had been given no chance, but it didn't matter. It felt like a betrayal, an impossible treachery, that something belonging to him, something that should belong to him would stab him in the back like that (and Cas too, more than figuratively).

He didn't even try to make it to a bathroom before he threw up all over the floor.

When the cold ground greeted him, the stabbing pain in his temple was welcome.

~oOo~

After the calm, there was a storm.

Rage made its way into his body, set it on fire, cell after cell, until he was burning up and breaking apart. It made his blood boil, fuelled his energy and made it surge through his limbs.

There were cries and sobs and furniture flying around, and it took two bloody hands and a wrecked room to make him understand that he was the one making those noises.

He stumbled backwards into a wall and slid down, sat between knocked-over cupboards, pulled-out drawers and the remains of what might have been a table, random pieces of wood, scattered all around, broken and splintered.

The bed lay on its side, the sheets torn, an ugly tear through clean white, a ridiculous allusion to former purity, shattered and destroyed by rough force.

He recoiled into himself, drew his knees up to his chest, buried his hands in his hair and tugged too harshly at the strands as if the physical pain could take away from the one inside his chest. The splinters that littered his hands were driven deeper into his skin when he clenched them tightly, the blood coating his fingers mixed with the tears on his cheeks, smearing all over his face and dyeing his hair.

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and welcomed the silence.

~oOo~oOo~oOo~

Any first thoughts?

Can't tell yet how long it will take me to update bc I'm writing next to my online studies, but I already have a ton of plot and dialogue ideas so I hope I'll find the time to work on this as quickly as possible!