AN: This is sometime after the events from Ch.4... In case you need a refresher ;D
Dean and Cas are 22
It was two weeks after the funeral for Cas' mom when he fell off the wagon. In retrospect it was bound to happen, even the strongest tend to have a relapse and three years clean was quite the feet. Dean wasn't sure how he missed the warning signs; at the time he attributed Cas's behavior to grief for his mom. Even though she was a bitch who didn't deserve it, she still gave life to the guy and Dean just gave him some space.
In all fairness, he had some stuff going on too. Sam was coming back for summer vacation, nearing his final year of college before heading off to grad school. Plus the shop had become super busy with the changing seasons and warmer weather. Dean would drag himself home, dead tired, and just shower eat and sleep. He knew Castiel was hurting, but he didn't stop to think that anything like that could happen again; not since Cas almost O.D. thanks to Crowley.
Dean came home on Thursday to an empty apartment, he knew Cas had his secession today which usually found the guy curled up on the sofa or passed out on the bed. The emotional toll of talking through his problems still weighed him down once a week. After a quick look around he noticed that Castiel's bag was still there and for all intensive purposes it seemed like he should be home.
Shrugging it off, Dean took a shower figuring that the other man would appear within the hour. After changing into some clean pants he still found the apartment empty, Cas's cell was charging in the kitchen so that was no good. Then it struck him, the roof. He threw on a sweater before scaling the balcony to get up to the roof.
That's where he found him, the familiar curve of Castiel's back greeting him as the man smoked absently. Dean watched for a beat, as he sips from what appeared to be a liquor bottle.
"Hey Cas," Dean greets him, striding across the roof.
He looks down upon the dark haired man, Castiel just starring ahead before taking another pull from the bottle of vodka.
"You drinking vodka straight now?" he narrows his eyes as he takes in the sight.
"It would appear so," Cas slurs softly.
"How long have you been up here?" Dean asks, when what he's really asking is how long as the man been drinking.
"Not sure," he exhales flicking the butt of his cigarette and rising unsteadily to his feet, "Doesn't matter."
Dean instinctively grabbing the other man's elbow to steady him, seeing the glazed look in his blue eyes, "You're obviously drunk babe."
"Thank you for telling me that," Cas glares sarcastically, pulling his arm away, "I am of age, officer."
"Was your appointment that bad today?" Dean wonders cautiously.
"Mhmm," he makes a noncommittal noise as he heads unsteadily to the edge with his liquor bottle.
"Ok, then," he shrugs, following after Castiel. "Be careful getting down," he warns slipping the bottle from the drunken man's grasp.
"Hey," Cas narrows his eyes as he starts to climb down.
"You'll get it back once your inside," Dean shakes his head.
By some miracle Cas makes down in one piece, waiting expectantly for Dean's return. No sooner does his feet hit the patio, Cas procures the bottle from the taller man and slips back into the kitchen. He takes a seat at the table, looking like a Russian czar.
"I don't mind you drinking, babe," Dean starts as he locks the sliding door, "But… this wouldn't have anything to do with your mom or your secession, would it?"
"Oh so perceptive, Dean," Cas eyes him, taking another swig from the bottle, "What are you my shrink now?"
"I'm just wondering, because I doubt you're celebrating anything and I'm pretty sure you're not a Russian spy so…" he crosses his arms expectantly as he leans against the counter.
"Fuck you!" He snaps standing unsteadily, "Maybe I am celebrating… because you know what?" Cas pauses trying to stop the room from spinning, "Ding dong the witch is dead."
"Cas," Dean sighs, "I know you don't mean that."
The other man snorts, "Right, because I listen to you call her a bitch, but when I do it…" He shakes his head.
"Babe," he starts walking towards Cas in order to calm him down.
"Don't," Cas warns as Dean goes to reach for him.
"Cas…" Dean says gently, "This isn't you, you're drunk… let's just have dinner, get some food in ya and…"
Castiel takes a step back, "This isn't me," he chuckles darkly, the situation causing Dean to start to worry, "How the Fuck would you know!" he shouts dangerously, throwing the booze bottle at the wall causing it to smash and Dean to jump.
"Jesus Christ, Cas!"
"Drunken words are sober thoughts Dean," He turns heading to the bedroom, "Don't forget that!"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean snaps, all his calm out the window now, as he follows after Castiel.
"Figure it out," he shouts, slamming the door to the bedroom and locking it.
"Castiel, you get out here right now damn it!" he pounds irately on the door.
"Fuck off!"
"I will break this god damn door down, unless you talk to me." Dean warns.
"I'm going to bed…I suggest you do the same."
"You're in the fucking bedroom!"
"Use the couch!"
Dean seethes, he has no clue what the hell has gotten in to Castiel; but this behavior is ridiculous. What's worse is that he's not even talking to Dean about it. He scrubs his hands over his face and pounds the door once more out of frustration before striding back into the kitchen. So much for a nice dinner and a relaxing evening, he sighs before contemplating calling his mom or maybe the doctor. In the end he decides to just sit in wait, there's no way he's getting any sleep tonight and luckily he's off work tomorrow. Plus Cas will have to pee sometime, he shoots daggers at the bedroom door.
The whole thing was so unlike Castiel it was scary. Dean knew that with the depression meds drinking wasn't the best idea, but Cas never drank with the strict intent of getting drunk, at least not any more. Or so Dean thought, it was the first session since the funeral and they probably brought up a whole slew of things that Castiel tried to forget; but still.
Dean kept running through everything in his mind until well after midnight when he finally drifts off on the couch while watching Pimp My Ride. The next morning Dean wakes up to an empty house, Cas having left for work all ready. He checks the kitchen to find the remnants of the bottle have been cleared away and there's a fresh pot of coffee in the coffee maker.
Shaking his head he pours himself a cup and microwaves it till it's warm again. Dean sips it idly as he curses himself for falling asleep. The dazed eyes of Castiel's plaguing his thoughts as he tries to shake the feeling that it wasn't just the alcohol that his boyfriend drank that caused it. He gets have way through his coffee when he checks the time and decides to drop in on Cas at work for his lunch break.
He throws on some clothes and heads out, hoping that Castiel will actually talk to him. It had been three years, and Dean thought they were passed this shit. Making it to the library in record time he bounds up the front steps and is greeted by Sally-Ann at the front desk.
"How's my favorite library lady?" Dean smiles turning on the charm.
"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes!" She smiles back cheerfully, "I'm doing well, how about yourself?"
"Good, good," he nods, "Just came to take Cas to lunch."
"Aren't you thoughtful," Sally-Ann coos, "He just headed up to the break room."
"Thanks, sweetheart," Dean smirks, heading to the elevators.
He heads up to the second floor to the employee break area, apparently Castiel is the only one on break right now; but what Dean sees next stops him dead in his tracks. Cas pulls an orange prescription bottle from his bag, running his hands through his hair nervously before he throws back a couple of the pills.
Dean's heart clenches, knowing full well that's not his regular meds, and he's faced with momentary indecision. Should he turn and walk away, figuring this all out before confronting him or stick to his original course here. His path is chosen for him however when Cas sees him.
"Hello Dean," he greets solemnly, not knowing Dean had caught him.
"Hey," he clears his throat, "Cas."
Castiel tilts his head as he stares at the taller man, the same way he did when Dean first met the strung out high school version of the man before him.
"What are you doing here?"
"Um…" Dean falters, unsure about how to address anything here, "I figured you had lunch now and wanted to talk about last night."
Cas narrows his now dull eyes, "I do not believe this is an appropriate time."
"Right," Dean snaps, unable to help himself.
The other man sighs, as he sits at the table; Dean following suite across from him, "I was drunk Dean."
"That it?" He presses as they stare at one another.
"I apologize for my actions," he nods fiddling with an unlit cigarette.
"Ok," Dean bites his lip in disbelief as he rises from his chair, "I'll leave you to it then," he nods robotically.
"Good-bye Dean."
"Oh," he pauses at the door, refusing to look at the other man, "I probably won't be home tonight, so…" Dean taps the wood of the door frame, "yea." He leaves.
Cas staring after him in confusion.
Dean has no clue what to do or where to go, but he unconsciously ends up back at his parent's house. John will still be at work and he hopes his mom is off today as he lets himself into the house.
"Mom?" he calls, "Mom?"
"Dean?" Mary answers rounding the corner from the kitchen, "What a pleasant surprise," she smiles giving him a hug, which is returned tenfold. "What's the matter, hunny?" She asks knowingly, searching his eyes.
"Cas," Dean breathes out, trying to keep his composure. The whole thing feeling a betrayal, "I think…"
"Come here," She instructs, ushering him into the kitchen chair and pouring him a cup of coffee before sitting across from him. "Now what's going on with Castiel?"
"I know… I mean I saw… he's using again."
"Are you sure?" Mary asks gently.
"Pretty sure," he studies the pattern in the table, "I don't know how long… he was drunk when I got home last night and… he was just so angry and it was scary, I've never seen him like that before…Then today…"
"You catch him?"
Dean nods silently, "I don't think he knows, I went to set things right from last night and…" he inhales sharply, "Why? I mean why now, after all this time!" He shakes his head, rising to pace the kitchen floor. "I told him I wouldn't be home tonight, because I can't look at him, mom. He… I feel betrayed and hurt and I just want to punch something, like his stupid numb face!" Dean rants anger evident as Mary listens patiently. "And for what, because his mom died and ya that sucks; but it's not like she was mother of the year or anything… Why won't he just fucking talk to me!" He hits the fridge.
"Dean," Mary warns about the language, out of habit. "Calm down, I know it's hard but even the strongest people have set backs."
"I just don't understand why he didn't even talk to me," he admits dejectedly from the floor where he's sitting. "I don't even know what to do now."
"You need to confront him, he's hiding it because he knows it's wrong and he knows that it hurts you, but… he's hurting more." Mary pats Dean's knee comfortingly. "Also call Dr. Visyak, she'll know what's going on and how to help." She stands, grabbing the phone and handing it to her son.
"Do you think she'll make him go to rehab?" Dean wonders nervously.
"I don't know Dean, this isn't my area." She smiles sadly.
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