Dean sat the bar, staring vacantly at the bartender who was obviously flirting with him. Her already low cut top was dangerously close to coming off, she was leaning over the bar, staring into his eyes, allowing her breasts to clearly be seen by him. Dean didn't notice, usually he would have this kind of girl in his back seat of the Impala by now. He started to imagine things in his head while she blabbed on about her day and how rough it had been with so many men hitting on her. Dean really couldn't care less. He started to imagine her in a room with him, she was there for one reason obviously, he tried her out in different outfits. Outfits being underwear but nothing got him, nothing caught his attention the way it should. Nothing about this girl excited him. Which was odd, she was his type, fairly pretty, skinny, fantastic knockers (as Dean would often put it), brown hair, blue eyes. He just couldn't seem to find her... attractive. Dean knew why, even if he was afraid to admit it to his self. The moment between him and Cas wasn't just a moment; he'd been craving it for months.
"Dammit Cas." He said to himself under his breath, forgetting completely that the bartender in front of him was still hopelessly trying to have a night with him. She'd cottoned on that Dean wasn't listening and her tone changed quickly.
"Cas? Who's Cas? Oh... I see. Pretty boy like you, it's obvious. You don't swing straight do you? Jesus, if you're not interested you could have just said. Dick." Pushing herself upright instantly, and redressing herself she walked away from Dean and started keeping an eye out for the next man that would catch her eye. She wasn't the kind of girl to be going home alone. He sat back against the bar stool and lined up his next few shots. One whiskey, two whiskeys, 3 whiskeys. Down in one shot. It wouldn't be long before he would start to feel the effect and start hitting on every girl in this room. He wanted to prove to himself he was straight and didn't love that damn angel. The drink started to kick in, the room was spinning and the room felt warmer. A lot warmer. He decided he would go take some money from people playing snooker. It wasn't hard, people are oblivious.
Dean had a good time, but he had managed to suppress the feelings inside of him, but he could still feel them there. They still got at him, the thoughts still ran through his mind. The alcohol simply weakened the strength of them.
3 hours later Dean had a pocket full of other men's cash and a head spinning out of control. There was no way he could drive home, he could barely walk straight let alone direct a car. He searched for his phone, wanting to call Sammy to come get him. All of his pockets were empty. "Fuck sake" he repeated to himself over and over again while his hands drunkenly searched through his pockets but his phone wasn't.
"bastard nicked it." Talking to himself he threw the bottle to the ground and walked outside. He sat outside on his baby for around an hour, feeling the cold air rush to his face, causing his vision to spin even more. Lying back on the car bonnet he looked up at the sky. Rare times like these did Dean every experience what was normal. His life never relaxed, and he never had time off. He couldn't have a normal life. Dean let the cold night air fill his lungs and closed his eyes. Just lying there in silence was bliss to Dean, he loved him and for the first time in months he relaxed. The alcohol still in his system he decided to drive home, the moon hung bright and low and full. He made a mental not to himself, something about werewolves. He clambered into the car, laughing at the fact he had more fallen into the car. The keys were already there, must have left them before he entered the bar. Dean turned the engine on, and turned his stereo up to full volume, rolled the windows all the way down and reversed out onto the road. Dean swerved across the road, not really caring what happened to him. For the first time in months that damn angel wasn't on his mind. Something kept him from going back to where they were staying; he just drove further and further. His mind started wondering. Dean had no idea where he was but he kept driving, he felt the emotions rise again, the memories of that day flooding through him. Everything felt more powerful. He drove faster, watching the trees run past him instead of watching the road. His foot pressed the accelerator as far as it would go, his speed climbing. The speed pulled the air out of the car making it hard for him to breath. Dean didn't care he just didn't want to feel anything now. All the pain he had gone through, the hurt, the loss, the abandonment, the murders, everything was too much for one man to live in a life time, and then he falls in love. Falls in love with someone who isn't even human. Dean lost control of himself, the music blaring out from the speakers, the wind pulling every last bit of air from his lungs, the world around him moving past at a ridiculous speed. Finally, he felt contempt. Dean started singing, singing at the top of his voice to whatever was playing. Still swerving on the road. The speed kept climbing, the thoughts still built in his head no matter what he did to avoid them. He couldn't take it. He knew he was going too fast, he knew if he was to crash he would die.
"Hell, that wouldn't be so bad now would it!" Dean shouted out to himself. Laughing at the idea of running his car into something solid, he started to contemplate it. This wasn't just about Castiel anymore, it was everything. It was his life. He couldn't take it anymore, it was too much. He kept his speed up, going faster and faster, everything was just a blur now, he couldn't see straight, his eyes were falling shut and the world around him temporarily disappeared.
"Sammy." He whispered and slowly brought the car down, trees around him started to take shape and the stars in the sky started to blink once again. He knew why he was here. Dean rested his head against the wheel, hands either side of where he placed himself. He couldn't take it anymore. He had no one, well sure he had Sammy. But what use is a brother when that isn't the form of comfort he needed. Dean needed someone to hold him when he cries and not tell anyone. He needed something stable, anything that wasn't going to leave him. The tears started to form behind his eyes, stinging against the cold air that had whipped them relentlessly in his speed. Dean knows what he needs, who he needs. He just doesn't know if he can.
"Cas... Cas please." Barely a whisper, the drops roll down his face yet he lets them fall.
"Please Castiel. I need... I need you. Please..." He drops his head into his hands, crying his heart out into his hands. He's so alone in this world, there's never anything to keep him sane. The world carried on around him as he wept. His cries for Castiel becoming louder until audible. He kept calling his name, begging for him until he felt something rest upon his shoulder, in this instance he looked up to his shoulder and saw a familiar hand half covered by a long coat.
"Hello Dean. Stop crying now. I am here."