AN: First proper chapter! Yay!

First of all, this story will contain alcohol abuse, mentions of suicide, drug usage and some other stuff. If these are hard subjects for you or something, I suggest you not to read.

And I just wanted to mention their ages: Cas is 19 in this and Dean is 22.

Uhm, yeah, I hope there isn't anything unrealistic and hopefully you enjoy and stuff!


Castiel shifted nervously in his place, gripping his crutches tighter as he felt his violin case's strap slowly sliding down his shoulder. His leg had already started to ache few minutes ago, but he ignored it like always. Having this nerve damage since he was a child had made him used to the pain, he had even started to like it on some level. It was nicely numbing, made him forget about his shitty life even for a second. "Mr Milton?"

His head shot up, facing a young nurse with a blonde hair tied up in a bun. "Ah sorry, I was lost in my thoughts." Castiel apologised, flashing an assuring, yet obviously fake smile. "Was there something else or am I allowed to leave?" He asked cautiously, hopes of getting out of the hospital building inside of him.

"We just need you to sign this form and you're free to go." She answered, pushing the said form forward with her long and thin fingers.

With a sigh Castiel balanced his weight on his other crutch while he carefully set the other one leaning against the counter. His signature was hurried and messy and honestly he didn't give a shit how it looked. He just wanted out. "We'll see you next month Mr Milton." She chirped, taking the form back and slipping it somewhere under the counter.

"Yeah, see you next month." Castiel muttered as he snatched his other crutch and headed for the exit.

Lucifer was late, Castiel noted after standing about three minutes at the front entrance where his brother-slash-manager had usually been waiting for him. He wasn't sure whether he should be happy or annoyed at his older brother's tardiness. He certainly didn't like standing there as the pain in his leg kept getting worse but he didn't want to go to the concert rehearsals either.

"You know what?! I'm quitting!" Castiel almost jumped at the sudden yell and his head snapped around to the doors, just in time to see a man throw a mop to the nearest bush in his anger. "God dammit." He grumbled under his breath and put his hand into his green jacket's pocket, pulling out a flask. At that moment green eyes met blue ones and they couldn't help but stare each other. "You want some?" The man asked, offering the flask towards Castiel to break their pointless staring.

Castiel's lips parted slightly as his eyes drifted down the man's face, to his neck and broad chest and eventually to the hand that held the flask. He nodded and reached for it, bringing it to his lips right away. The unfamiliar taste of whiskey pouring down his throat made Castiel frown, but he still took a generous swig.

"So, you're not a drinker?" The man chuckled, downing quite a bit of the whiskey himself after Castiel handed him the flask back.

Shaking his head, Castiel turned around with his crutches to face the man properly. "Not really." He admitted, "But I really needed that." Castiel wiped his mouth onto his shoulder, still feeling the burning sensation on his lips.

"I know that feeling." He took another sip before he slipped the flask back where it came from. "Do I know you from somewhere?" The man questioned and narrowed his eyes slightly. "I'm quite sure I've seen you before." He took steps forward, closer to Castiel, and tucked both of his hands into his pockets.

Castiel smiled, letting his gaze fall to the ground as a slight blush crept over his cheeks. "Uh- I'm Castiel Novak- The violinist." He muttered.

Two loud beeps of a car horn caught their attention, followed by Lucifer's yelling. "Castiel, get your ass in here!" Castiel winced, realising that Lucifer was on one of those days he would snap really easily. His eyes travelled between Lucifer's huge car and the man before he sighed in defeat and turned to get in.

"It was nice meeting you." Castiel mumbled to the man as he climbed clumsily in to the car through the door Lucifer had opened for him.

The man, Dean Winchester, was left standing there in confusion.


Dean was on his third bottle of beer when his phone started playing a familiar guitar riff. He was on his back on the too-small sofa, his right hand playing with the half-empty bottle on the floor while his left hand reached for his phone somewhere on the tiny coffee table. "Hello?" He yawned to the speaker after he finally brought the phone to his ear.

"So, I heard you quit today."

He bit his lip at the sharp scolding tone at the other end of the phone. "That head nurse was an ass and I couldn't stand her so I might have snapped." Dean admitted, pushing himself up and leaning on his other arm "If all you wanted to do is to scold me, I'm going to hang up now, Jess."

Jessica Moore was Dean's brother Sam's girlfriend before that accident. She had taken the job of taking care of Dean after Sam's death, making sure he did okay. She even was the one who got him the Job at the hospital, through some friend studying to be a nurse apparently. "I'm scolding you because of a good reason, Dean Winchester!" Jess almost screamed and Dean could imagine her annoyed face and her hands on that tiny waist in a threatening pose, despite the woman's small size. "Why would you quit your job? How the hell are you planning on paying your rent now?"

Dean rubbed his temple and reached for his beer to drink away his budding headache. "I don't know Jess and honestly don't give a shit at the moment." He started wondering if he should hang up on Jess, but knew that then she would most likely turn up at his door. Then it would be good bye to his beers in the fridge. "Look, I promise I try to find another job. Until then, I'll keep writing."

"You're still doing that?" Jess sighed and her words felt like a punch to the gut for Dean. For his whole life comments like that was all that he had heard about his dream of becoming a writer. He hated how he never got the support from his dad, how he said it was a fucking waste of time. He hated how each and every person he knew laughed at his ambition. Well, except Sam. Sammy was the only one ever to support him. He always pushed him, saying that he could do it.

Dean swallowed rest of his beer before he slumped back onto the sofa. "Yes, I'm still doing it." He groaned as he resisted the urge to hang up.

"I got you that job at the hospital because you obviously couldn't make a living out of writing, Dean." Dean frowned and moved his phone to his other ear. "I know you want to finish that book for Sam, but you need to take care of yourself. At the moment you have no source of income so you should worry about other things than that freaking book of yours."

"I don't care enough about myself."

"You should. I know about that promise you gave to Sam."

"What does it matter Jess?! Sam's dead and it wouldn't matter to him if I would put a fucking gun to my head and pull the trigger." Dean snapped at the girl, his fingers tightening around the phone. He swallowed and breathed calmly few times, but the sudden burst of anger inside him didn't calm down. "I'm going to hang up now. Don't bother coming here because I'll most likely ignore you by playing rock as loud as I can and drink beer until I pass out. Later Jess."

Soon Dean's phone met the floor, causing it to break into three parts that each flew into different parts of his small apartment. Dean cursed, but didn't bother to put it back together, only headed for the fridge for his fourth beer and settled in front of his computer.

Dean stared at the word-document he had opened, letters on the screen forming the title 'Chapter 7'. His fingers hovered for a while on the keyboard before he finally got to writing and words typed to the white page quickly.

They had stopped at a shabby gas station after driving for a good while. Jensen went ahead to buy food for them from the small shop while Jared stayed inside the car, going through Jensen's small collection of cassettes with a frown on his face. "Hey," Jensen called, lifting the food he had in his hands to show Jared. "You want breakfast?"

He tilted his head, reading the just written paragraph a few times before backspacing it away. Writing was so hard.

As Dean leaned against his hand and stared at the blank page, his mind returned to the blue-eyed man, Castiel Novak, he had met earlier that day. He said he was 'the violinist'. The face did ring a bell, unlike his name. He admitted to himself that he might have seen the guy on TV or something, considering he had said his name like Dean should have known who he was.

The only reasonable thing to do was to google the guy. Considering that he was probably somewhat famous, Dean thought it wouldn't be that creepy. Still, as his web browser opened, a slight hesitation budded inside of him before he dared to write 'Castiel Novak' to the search bar and press enter.


Castiel was so fucking tired when he finally got home. Violin case was abandoned right next to his score stand and both crutches dropped to the floor before he wobbled on top of his bed, landing on his stomach.

His dad was off on some business trip and his older sister at some friend's house so it was just him and Lucifer. Considering this fact, Castiel found his best option to be locking his bedroom door and curling up to a little ball on his bed. He honestly didn't know how to handle his brother on these bad days of his so Castiel had formed a habit of avoiding him as much as possible.

He reached for his meds on the nightstand next to his bed and played with the small container before popping the cap open. There was still about third of the pills left and Castiel frowned. He was quite sure he had got the new bottle not too long ago so it was bit strange that there was so little left. He still took two pills and swallowed them dry so they left a strange feeling in his throat, like there was a lump left in his throat.

Castiel rolled to his side, wrapping his arms around himself. He could hear muffled sounds of TV coming from downstairs, but he ignored it the best he could. He laid there, waiting for the pills to kick in, to blur his mind and dull his pain away.

He felt like he couldn't take it anymore. He didn't feel like going to the concert rehearsals at all and whenever he managed to be at home, he locked himself in his room, only coming out when required. Not like his family cared. His dad was always on business trips, hardly at home for more than a week. Lucifer wouldn't care about him, just his talent and Anna, she had distanced herself from Castiel a few years back. His mother didn't know anything about his life situation as she had moved to Germany soon after the divorce.

Now his only comfort was his medication and music and the latter had started to lose its effect on Castiel. Now when he put on one of his favourite CDs, it was more of a habit than a way to comfort himself anymore. It was a way to block out outside world's noises, like now when Lucifer watching TV started to annoy him way too much.

Castiel dragged himself to his CD player and pushed inside a CD randomly. Soon the first few notes of Metallica's One started playing and he slid along the wall to a small ball on the floor. He started crying uncontrollably, sleeves of his shirt dampening from the salty tears.

Eventually he fell asleep, but tears kept falling down his cheeks even when he was in his dreams.