A/N: The title "mercury" is based off of Imagine Dragons' new album: Mercury – Act I. This album inspired this story. The chapter titles: Wrecked, It's Ok, #1, Giants, Easy Come Easy Go, Follow You, and One Day are all songs from the album.

And Wrecked totally feels like it was written for Destiel to me.

Trigger warning: Thoughts of suicide and alcohol abuse.

They won, but Dean feels emptier than ever. When they took on Chuck, the fight between him and Jack left them both powerless. It didn't really feel like winning. Especially since Dean can tell Jack is having a hard time adjusting to being a human. Or whatever he is now. He's just a kid stuck in an adult's body. It's fucked up, and Dean can't handle it.

He's managed to push aside all his feelings about Cas when they were still hunting fucking God. They all were. But now it's over.

Dean felt numb the entire drive back to the bunker. Sam was sitting in the back of the Impala, checking on Jack. Dean didn't even say a word. It was all too much. When they got back home, Dean locked himself in his room. The second he was alone in the quiet and the stillness of his room with his jacket with Cas' handprint hanging on his chair, he lost it. It all came crashing down on him. He's never cried harder.

It's been days, and Dean's only left his room to grab booze. His drinking has never been worse, but he doesn't care. Honestly, the only reasons Dean hasn't completely given up are Jack and Sam. He can't off himself after all they've been through. And the visual of Sam walking into Dean's room to find his corpse makes Dean nauseous. He won't do that to his little brother.

Dean doesn't even know how Jack is, but he can't bring himself to go talk to the kid. Then he feels guilty for not checking up on him, so he drinks, and the cycle repeats.

He drinks to empty his mind and numb his feelings. He stares at the handprint on the jacket. The tv is always on to bring some noise into the deafening silence. He can't stand to be alone one second with his thoughts.

Time has lost all meaning. It's always been difficult to tell the time in the bunker where's there's nothing but hallways and florescent lights, but any last sense of time Dean has is gone. The alcohol has disoriented him enough to mess up his internal clock, and he doesn't leave his bed. Sam checks on him every once in a while. He brings food, but he doesn't say anything. Dean is grateful.

Dean is perpetually tired but also too wired to get any restful sleep. He's created his own personal Hell, and he's glad. He doesn't deserve to be happy since he is the literal reason Cas is dead. He doesn't deserve to be happy, because he has always treated Jack like shit and is continuing to do so. He doesn't deserve to be happy, because everyone is better without him.

Dean stares hazily at the tv and finishes his beer. They're running out of booze, and Sam isn't restocking. He's doing it on purpose, and Dean resents him for it. Dean tosses the can on the floor, where the rest of the cans and bottles lay. It's filthy in here and probably smells. Dean can't make himself care.

The door opens with a low creak. Dean doesn't look. It's probably Sam bringing him food. He knows it's bad, because Sam has been bringing him burgers and milkshakes. He doesn't deserve it.

There's a pause, and Dean thinks he might've imagined hearing the door open, but then he hears it creak shut. Dean rubs his eyes with a sigh and looks over, expecting to see a plate with a burger on the ground, but Jack is standing there, watching him. One of his hands is on the door as if he's not sure he's allowed to be here. The kid is in dinosaur pajamas Dean bought him months ago. His eyes are puffy and blood shot. Parts of his hair are sticking up at jagged angles.

They lock eyes, and tears well up in Jack's eyes. "I miss him." Jack's voice breaks when he says it, and he covers his face with his hands. His shoulders start shaking, and a terrible sob escapes him. Dean is across the room before he even realizes he's moved.

Dean pulls Jack into a hug, and Jack clings onto Dean like he's drowning and Dean is his lifeguard. Jack cries into Dean's shoulder. Dean can feel the tears soaking through his shirt.

"I—" Jack begins then hiccups. He sucks in a shaky breath, but he doesn't sound any more composed. "I was going to save him. After—" he hiccups again "—after we defeated Chuck I was going to bring him back."

Dean holds him tighter, tears slipping down his face now.

"I should have done it before," Jack sobs.

Dean finds himself pressing kisses into Jack's hair. "Jack," Dean says. It's the first word he's said in days. His voice is rough and ragged. "It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is!" He hiccups again. "I—" another hiccup "—I should have—" a third hiccup. The kid's on the verge of hysteria.

"Okay, shh, shh, just take a minute," Dean says softly. He rubs Jack's back with one hand and runs his other through Jack's hair.

Jack cries, and Dean isn't sure how long they stay like that. Dean closes his eyes and lets his world become the kid. He blocks out the tv playing in the background. He blocks out the acrid smell of the days-old beer cans on his floor. He focuses on Jack's warmth and holding him close.

Jack's breathing finally settles down. He sniffs and swallows. "I don't want to be here anymore." Jack says it so quietly Dean almost misses it.

"In my room?"

"No. I don't want to be alive anymore."

Dean's blood runs cold, and he kisses Jack's head. He knows he should tell Jack not to think that way, but all he does is murmur, "Me either." It's probably the worst thing he can say, but he's just too tired to think of anything else. He doesn't have it in him to lie and make up some positive bullshit right now.

Jack's suddenly laughing.

Dean blinks in surprise and pulls back far enough to look at Jack. Jack has tear tracks down his cheeks, and his eyes are even more red and swollen than before. His hair is plastered to his face where he had been leaning against Dean, but he's laughing.

Jack manages to compose himself for a second and says, "I don't think Castiel would be very happy with us right now."

It isn't funny, but Dean laughs, too. It's a little hysterical, but Dean can't stop himself. "No, I don't think he would."

They both laugh again, and Dean pulls Jack back into an embrace. They eventually calm down, and Dean closes his eyes again.

"Dean?" Jack asks quietly. It's tentative, as if Jack is bracing himself for something.

"Yeah?"

"Can…Can I sleep here tonight?" He sounds so small, and Dean is reminded that he is a literal three-year-old.

"Yeah, of course you can."

Jack sniffles. "Thank you."

Dean swallows. "You don't have to ask, you know. You can always come to me."

"Okay, Dean."

Jack sleeps with Dean at night. Dean's pretty sure Sam doesn't now. But nothing else changes. Jack is always gone when Dean wakes up. Dean continues to drink and numb himself. He's doing so now, opening one of the few remaining beer cans they have. He's actually surprised they still have any alcohol with how much he's been drinking. He takes a sip and closes his eyes, savoring the feeling of it pouring down his throat.

Dean's door bursts open. He jumps in surprise. Eileen barges into his room and pauses as she sees the mess of cans and bottles on the floor.

"This is disgusting," she says as she looks at the floor. She meets his gaze. "It stinks in here, too."

"Uh…" Dean begins, but she isn't looking at him. She's opening his drawers and grabbing some of his clothes. "Hey!" he shouts pointlessly.

Eileen has his clothes clenched in one of her hands. She turns to him, and he watches stupidly. She takes the beer can from his hand and sets it on his night stand.

"What—" Dean starts, but she grabs his arm and yanks him off the bed. He stumbles at the sudden movement, but eventually finds his footing. He looks up at her once the world stops spinning. She shoves the clothes into his chest. He grabs them.

"Take a shower," she commands.

Dean stares.

"Now, Dean."

Dean nods, still too surprised to use his words. He stumbles into the hallway and into the bathroom. He pauses as he catches his reflection. He put a towel over the mirror in his room, so he hasn't seen himself in days. He badly needs to shave. His eyes are red and wild. His hair is a disgusting mess, and he's paler than the kids at Hot Topical.

Dean turns the shower on and peels his dirty clothes off. Yeah, he has to literally peel them off because they're basically a second skin now. That's so fucking gross. He steps into the shower and lets the warm water pour over him.

He can feel himself begin to sober up a little. His thoughts are just a bit sharper, and as he scrubs the grime off his body, it's like he's washing off some of the bad thoughts. He stands in the shower for a few more minutes after he finishes washing. Dean can't recall a time he's sunk this low.

He turns the shower off, puts on the clothes Eileen picked out, and shaves. He finishes by combing his hair, which is a little long now. But he doesn't hate how it looks. Dean grabs his dirty clothes and heads back to his room. He opens the door, and plans on throwing his dirty clothes into his dirty room, but his room isn't dirty anymore. The cans and bottles are gone. There are new sheets on his bed. The towel is gone from his mirror. He numbly walks over to the hamper and puts his clothes in. The hamper is empty, so he can only assume his clothes are being washed.

Dean's slammed with guilt, but his stomach grumbles, interrupting his pity party. He's reminded he hasn't eaten a real meal in days. He walks back into the hall and into the kitchen.

Sam and Eileen are cooking something, their backs facing him. Jack is sitting at the kitchen table, his hair is combed. He's dressed in new clothes, too. Every time Dean's seen Jack, Jack has been in those dinosaur pajamas. Dean assumes Jack hasn't changed clothes until today either. And Jack looks just as annoyed as Dean feels. He's glaring at the wall with his arms crossed.

"You get ambushed, too?" Dean asks and sits across from Jack.

"Yes," he says moodily.

Dean glances at Sam and Eileen. "Fuckin' schemers."

A smile tugs at Jack's lips.

"Hey, Jack," Sam says. He turns. "Can you tell Dean—" Sam stops when he sees Dean. "Oh, good. You're here."

Dean glares. He won't show Sam that he's feeling a little better. He's not giving Sam the satisfaction that his little plan is working.

Sam rolls his eyes then gives Dean a pointed look. "You're going to eat what we give you."

"Yeah, we'll see," Dean retorts.

Sam raises an eyebrow. "Yeah. We will."

Dean looks away. He glares at the table. He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't even want to feel better. He's not allowed to. Not after Cas. Dean wants to spend the rest of his days locked away in his room, drinking himself to oblivion.

Sam sets a plate of green things down in front of Dean.

"What the hell is this?" Dean growls, glaring at the plate as if it insulted him. Which it has.

"It's a salad, Dean. But I put pieces of bacon and steak in it. You'll like it." Sam sits beside him.

Dean pokes at it with his fork. He sifts through the plants. There is meat in here after all. Dean glances up to see Jack has the same salad that he does. Jack is staring at the salad like there's eyeballs in it or something. Eileen is sitting next to Jack, but she's staring at Dean as if daring him not to try it. Dean glares at the salad again, but stabs it with his fork, making sure to get a piece of steak. He shoves it into his mouth, and…it's not bad. Dean tells himself it's just because he hasn't really eaten anything in a long time, so this tastes good because this is the first bite of actual food he's had in a while.

Dean doesn't look at Sam as he quickly finishes the salad. He doesn't need to see Sam's smug little face. It's only when he's finished eating that he realizes he's thirsty. There's a glass of water beside his plate, and he gulps it down greedily. He never drinks enough water on a good day, so this has probably been the longest he's gone without drinking any.

"Do you want more?" Sam asks.

Dean wants to tell him no out of spite, but he does want more. "Maybe," Dean ends up saying. Sam grabs his empty plate and glass and squeezes his shoulder as he passes.

Tears well up in Dean's eyes. He doesn't deserve Sammy. He doesn't deserve to feel better. But, dammit. He's going to have to try. It's not just him. There's Sam, Jack, and Eileen too. He can't just give up on himself. He swallows. He's going to have to live without Cas.

And now he's crying.

Someone grabs his hand, and he looks up to see Jack holding it. Jack looks at him solemnly and says with a straight face, "The salad wasn't that bad, Dean."

Dean laughs. Maybe a little too hard. He wipes his face, and Jack is smiling at him.

Dean is taking it one day at a time. But he is trying. It feels weird and wrong to be moving on from Cas.

Dean went to the grocery store with Sam yesterday. He grabbed ingredients to start making dinner. And, bless him, Sam hasn't commented on anything. He's just there, helping. Dean's never loved him more.

It's been over two weeks since Sam and Eileen's little ambush when Dean walks into the library to see Jack and Sam leaning over a laptop.

"You guys find a job?" Dean asks. They haven't worked a job since Chuck yet.

They both look up. "What?" Sam says. "Oh, uh, no. We're actually looking at schools for Jack."

Dean frowns. "Like pre-schools?"

Jack's never looked so insulted before.

"Or not," Dean quickly says.

"I'm smart, Dean!" Jack says anyway.

"Uh, yeah, kid, I know," Dean answers.

"I'm going to college," Jack specifies.

Dean raises his eyebrows. "Oh?"

Sam says, "It's online. Just something easy for his pre-recs as he figures out what he wants to major in."

Dean pretends he knows what that means and nods. "Uh-huh. And you're okay with this, Jack?"

"It was his idea actually," Sam tells him.

"I'm going to be a vet!" Jack exclaims excitedly.

"You are?" Dean asks.

Jack nods. "Yes."

Sam chuckles. "Well, that's what he said this morning, but we'll see after he takes a few classes what he's really interested in."

"I know what I'm interested in, Sam," Jack states seriously.

"Right, yes, of course," Sam replies. He and Dean share a secret smile while Jack looks intently at the laptop.

"And what school is your favorite so far?" Dean asks.

This launches Jack into a long tangent about every single school he and Sam have looked at. It's adorable, and a warm fondness spreads in Dean's chest as he watches. It's cut short by a quick tug of guilt.

How can Dean be happy when Cas is dead?

Dean is going crazy being cooped up in the bunker. He's been half-heartedly looking for jobs, but he doesn't really want to go on a hunt. He's not ready yet. It's like going on a hunt will really solidify that he's moving on and Cas is gone. He's not ready to move on. Not yet. At least that's what he's telling himself. Dean thinks he'll never be ready to move on from Cas.

Dean's watching a movie with Jack, and the main characters have to go the Grand Canyon for their secret mission or whatever.

"I've never been to the Grand Canyon," Jack states as if it's a fact Dean doesn't know.

But it sticks with Dean. Dean's not quite sure why. The kid would really like to see the Grand Canyon. Maybe Dean should take him.

Dean should take him.

Hell, he hasn't driven his Baby since Chuck. She could use the drive. It's just a tentative plan. Jack has school in the fall anyway, so it probably won't happen. But Dean still looks up the Grand Canyon. Apparently, you have to pay to get in; he didn't know that. Good thing he looked it up.

Dean pulls up a map to see how long the drive would take, and his eyes land on South Dakota. What if they visited Jody and the girls on their way? Dean could use it. Jack could probably use it, too.

Dean taps his finger on the table thoughtfully. If he's really going to do this, why not make it a whole road trip? They could go to South Dakota to see the girls, maybe hit Colorado on their way to the Grand Canyon. Maybe even stop at a beach in California.

Dean pictures making a sand castle with Jack, sunburnt and tired with the orange glow from the sunset illuminating the kid's face. Yeah…that…that sounds really good.

Dean bites his lip in thought as he looks at the map.

Jack wanders into the room carrying two apple juice boxes. He hands one to Dean.

"Thanks, kid." Dean sips the sugary drink through the bendy straw.

Jack pulls up a chair next to Dean. "What are you looking at?"

"Oh, uh, well, I was—I was sorta planning a road trip."

"Oh." Jack sounds disappointed. Damn. Maybe this isn't a good idea. "Where?"

Dean shrugs, trying to keep it low-key just in case Jack doesn't want to go. "Well, I was thinking South Dakota for sure to see Jody and Claire and them. And maybe Arizona since you've never seen the Grand Canyon."

Jack sits up straighter. "Wait, you want me to come with you?"

"Well, uh, yeah. If you want. I don't know how it would work with your school schedule, but—"

"Yes! Yes, I want to come." Jack takes a long sip of his apple juice. "Is Sam coming, too?"

Dean swallows nervously. He's not sure if Jack would want to go with just him. They don't have the greatest history. "I was, uh, actually thinking it would just be us."

Jack smiles. "I like that idea." He takes another sip. "I think Sam needs to spend time with Eileen alone, because they're being gross and romantic all the time anyway."

Dean laughs. "Yeah, probably."

Jack grins at him. "So, do we leave tomorrow?"

"What?" Dean laughs. "Maybe next week? I haven't really planned anything, Jack."

Jack scoots closer. "I can help."

"Okay, uh, anywhere you want to go in particular?"

"Massachusetts," Jack says with no hesitation. Where the hell Jack got the urge to visit Massachusetts, Dean has no idea.

"Oh, uh, I was thinking we'd stick with the West Coast this time, buddy."

"This time?" He turns to Dean excitedly. "Will we do this again?"

"Yeah, I mean, if you like it."

Jack nods and slurps on his juice. "I want to see the beach," he decides.

Dean grins. "Yeah, me too. How does California sound?"