A/N: Please review! Helpful criticism is always appreciated!
In Lawrence, Dean was still staring at the place he had avoided for so many years. He thought of his mother, his father, his brother, his friends. He couldn't face them like this. He didn't belong with them. He didn't belong anywhere.
Dean sighed. He had never belonged. He had tried to push that feeling away over the years, acting arrogant and putting on a cocky smile seemed to make everything okay. But it really wasn't. Dean had told Tessa that he had never been so low as to want death. But that wasn't true. This was one of those moments. Dean pulled the First Blade out of his jacket. He could feel its power course through him, though it lacked the usual calm it had given him before. There was no reason for it to. There was no threat, no danger around him.
Dean closed his eyes. He then understood what Tessa had felt. He just wanted it all to be over. He wanted to die.
But Dean's wishes for death were interrupted by a sound behind him. He turned, Blade in hand, ready to attack. Upon seeing who stood before him, he felt more like running. Again.
It was Sam and Cas.
And Crowley. Somehow that didn't surprise Dean. How else would Sam and Cas have caught up with him?
"Dean," Cas said, stepping towards him. Dean moved away. He could could tell his eyes had turned that dreaded black color, and he blinked rapidly, trying to understand how to change them back.
"Dean, I know this is frightening for you, but please, just let us help you," Cas pleaded, taking another step towards Dean. This time, Dean stayed where he was, but was still tense and alert, watching every movement Cas made.
"Oh, come on, Dean," Crowley said. "Don't be such a scaredy cat, now. Put on your big boy trousers."
If looks could kill, Crowley would be long gone because of the glare Cas was giving him. Crowley raised his hands in a mock-surrender. "Alright, then Cas. You handle the kicked puppy yourself."
With that, Crowley was gone. "What did he mean by...kicked puppy?" Cas asked Sam, confused. Sam ignored him and turned to Dean.
"Dean, you won't get anything from running, you know," he said. Dean looked at his shoes.
"Dean, please, just let us help you," Cas said, taking another few steps towards Dean, who was still looking down at the ground.
"I-I don't... want to... to hurt you," Dean said.
"Well then, you could start by giving us the Blade," Sam said.
Sam had a point. So, Cas slowly extended his arm and flattened his palm, in hope that Dean would give him the Blade. Dean stared at Cas's hand for a while, then hesitantly put the Blade in Cas's palm. Sam experimentally stepped forward a few steps towards Dean and, finding it seemed safe, came and took the Blade from Cas.
Cas reached up a hand slowly to rest it on Dean's shoulder. Upon contact, Dean shifted away slightly, causing Cas to remove his hand quickly. Dean looked up at Cas, his midnight black eyes meeting Cas's sapphire ones. Even though the color of Dean's eyes signified that he was a demon, the dark pools of black were still the most beautiful things Cas had ever seen. Cas tried resting his hand on Dean's shoulder again, this time succeeding. Dean broke the eye contact first, staring down at the ground once again. "Dean," Cas said, moving his head to the side and down a bit to try to look into Dean's stunning black eyes once again.
Dean shook his head, refusing to look up. That was the moment that Cas realized that getting Dean back to at least half of who he was before all this was gonna take a while, but Cas was more than willing to try.