Ya know how in Pet Semetary, the kid gets hit by an eighteen-wheeler truck? But then the dad goes a little nuts, buries the kid in some creepy Native American cemetery, kid comes back to life but he's evil as fuck?

Cas would be better off as that kid.

His liver felt like it was composed of pure gin, his veins still pumping the intoxicating liquid through his body. He was pretty sure he slept through his morning class. Shockingly he didn't care as the sunlight streaked through the room invading his space and assaulting his retinas. He had managed to regain some dignity by crawling up onto the futon when he woke up drooling all over his carpet. Since then, he hadn't moved off the moderately accommodating cushions. Every so often his phone would beep, but he wasn't sure if it was signaling low battery or emails. He didn't care. He might still be drunk.

A rap of knuckles on his door thundered through his ears, knocking around in his skull. Scratch that. He was definitely still drunk. Careful to compose himself into some semblance of sobriety, Cas' voice wavered only slightly when he yelled "Who is it?".

"Woah little bro, rough night? Open up."

Cas whimpered into the cushion. Gabe was loud and boisterous and, well, Gabe. He wouldn't care if Cas was still shit-faced. He'd only want to know why Cas consumed an entire bottle of gin in one night. Which, in all fairness, was something that might raise familial concern. Cas didn't care what Gabe wanted, he just wanted Gabe to go away.

"Not in the mood Gabe. Come back later." was all Cas mumbled into the stale air. Except then the doorknob was wiggling and Gabe was literally picking his lock goddamnit! What a pain in the ass.

"The fuck Gabe?! You can't just pick my lock whenever I don't want you here. Jesus."

"Calm down bro. I came to bring you some hangover cure-all, full of greasy goodness." Gabe nearly skipped into the room, arms full of what looked to be food and a few DVDs. Cas could smell the wafting vapors from a bag that Gabe clutched underneath two very large cups of what Cas prayed was coffee from that little roasting place on the outskirts of campus. He sighed, resigned to the fact that Gabe would forever be his most annoyingly good big brother.

"You win. Sorry. Just gimme a second?"

Cas lumbered to his closet-sized bathroom, knocking his shins on the porcelain as he earnestly relieved himself of the remaining alcohol in his system. Thankfully at no point had he puked anywhere. He always hated drunk vomiting. So unclassy and nasty to clean up when you're finally sober.

Gabe had put his stash of 'cure-all' on the thrift-store coffee table the teetered between antique and antiquated. Cas had an irrational attachment to that damn thing, kept it with him when he moved here from the family homestead. He slouched into the futon's stiff fabric, thoughtlessly grabbing the bag of food out from under Gabe's hovering hand. As he took an oversized mouthful of the greasy bacon cheeseburger an uncouth moan escaped his half-full lips. Nothing ever tasted as good as one of these burgers after a bender. Gabe had been through his share of hungover mornings and wasted afternoons, therefore he always had the answer when Cas got himself a little too far down into the bottle of whatever alcohol he was favoring that season.

"So you gonna tell me why there's drool on the carpet and an empty bottle of gin on your table, kid?" Gabe's voice was soft, simultaneously earnest and cautious. It made Cas' heart wrench a bit, knowing his brother knew to tread lightly whenever Cas had been drinking. Cas wasn't always the nicest person, but after some booze he could be downright nasty. And Gabe knew it, had been on the receiving end of some terrible words, even more terrible fists thrown in unwarranted righteous anger. Cas shook his head.

"Man, Gabe, I don't even know anymore. Shit's so messed up, and I am running myself ragged this year with classes and the blog and RA shit grad school applications. I- I'm so close to losing it."

He didn't bother masking the pain that washed over his face. What was the point? Gabe would know whether Cas told him or not. For all his shenanigans, Gabe was a smart motherfucker.

"Cas, you gotta give yourself a break! You're doing great. If something is too much, just drop it. You've got more than enough shit to make it into grad schools. You know it, I know it, hell the freshman in your dorm know it!" Gabe missed a beat for a sufficiently awkward pause to clear his throat before he added "And if its money you know I'll always help you out, bro."

Cas chuckled around his last mouthful of bacon and cheese. "Yeah Gabe, I know. You're the best." His tone faked sarcasm, but he meant it probably more than Gabriel knew.

"So what's the gin for then? Gin is always a special occasion throwdown for you."

"Sometimes I wish you could actually read minds because it is fucking creepy that you know my drinking habits that well."

"Ah well we share blood. Isn't that enough of an excuse?"

"I guess? It's still weird. Can't you just work your hoodoo mojo crap and read my mind so I don't have to say it all out loud. Saying means it's true, and man I dunno if I'm ready for that level of reality right now."

Gabe's brow furrowed at Cas' honesty. Cas rarely let down his stoic veneer, and when he did it was only because there was some serious shit going down that he couldn't really handle alone. Cas didn't actually like being alone, but it was easier than allowing people in if they were all only going to leave again. He couldn't handle the pity parties if he told anyone that, though. So, he kept the serious stuff to himself until it was obvious he couldn't handle it anymore.

Gabe heaved a sigh, settling himself in on the futon next to Cas. He mocked holding his head as the psychics on tv always seem to do when they're supposedly working their magic.

"I see- I see a man. He's weird looking. I don't know if I want to see more, this man is kind of a dork. I think maybe he has the herp, or the clap, that's why he's consuming inordinate amounts of the heathen fire water" Cas chuckled and shoved his brother's shoulder hard enough to knock him off-kilter onto the floor. Gabe threw up his arms in surrender as he wrestled himself back onto the futon. "Okay! Okay! Fine. You only drink gin on special occasions. Except you look like you've been hit by a MAC truck, which means you weren't happy while you were drinking."

He motioned for Gabe to continue.

"So, you got drunk, answered all those ridiculous questions on your blog. Don't look at me like that, that shit is hilarious to read and you do a good job! Anyway. Unhappy but just got laid because there's no spank bank mags laying around like usual if you're drunk and need a good lay."

Strangled choking sounds came from Cas as his sputtered into his coffee. "Dude, this is worse than me telling you. Are you fucking Sherlock Holmes now? Christ."

"Bro you told me to! Plus I know you're still dicking around with Meg. I will refrain from personal comments on that for once though."

"Ugh thanks. Yeah Meg and I are still, uh, hooking up."

"Whatever floats your boat kid. Spill what your issue is, I'm here but I gotta head to work soon. Swing shift sucks, for the record."

Cas felt himself get up and pace the floor. And was he talking? His brain seemed to have disjointed from his conscious. Oh god was he telling Gabe about Dean? Fuck fuck fuck. No this wasn't supposed to happen this way. He was supposed to forget he liked guys. He was supposed to find a nice girl and bring her home and marry her and have chubby-cheeked babies with heads full of black hair and green eyes and plush lips just like their Daddy Dean oh for fuck's sake.

"CAS! Cas. Stop. Just stop. Breath for Christ's sake. Breathe little bro." Gabe was holding him steady by his shoulders, fingers gripping deep into his muscle tissue. The sting of pressure brought Cas back into some semblance of reality, the room pitching forward as he fell into his brother.

"Damnit Cas calm the fuck down! You're okay bro. You're okay."

Wide golden eyes blinked back at him as the world righted itself. His mouth seemed to be moving without sound, and he willed his jaw to cease briefly so he could regain use of his vocal cords. But his head was so heavy. So heavy. And his eyes burned. His room was always so damn dry this time of year. But his cheeks were wet. Had he started crying? Oh god what was going on? And now Gabe was muttering into his phone, something about Cas. If he could just push himself up onto his elbows to hear but the world started spinning again and this time Cas didn't care that he was crying or that his head felt like lead or that his toes were numb. All he cared about was that when he closed his eyes he felt a rough hand gently stroking his forehead, and a gravelly voice whispering softly about the future.