*I had help with this one today. You should look her up on Tumblr and follow her because she is fabulous her url is batcacaloco-fanwarrior

Warning: Substance abuse, i think there mentions of child abuse in there somewhere, if not I know if you'll squint you'll see it.

What happened next I don't quite remember. I remember the door closing and then I remember breaking things. Anything I could get my hands on. Plates, furniture. I grabbed beer bottles and smashed them all over the floor. I remember the glass digging into my feet and hands and the painful alcohol soaking into the cuts. I remember flipping the table and hearing it crack under the fall. Everything on it clattered to the floor in a loud commotion. I remember someone screaming my name over and over again but they didn't dare come close to me. The last thing I remember is collapsing to the floor in a mess of alcohol, glass, blood and tears.

Jump ahead 2 month

Everything just went down hill from there for Dean. He missed his mom and dad, he missed Cas. Sam wouldn't dare talk to him. He pushed Jo away. He didn't have any real friends he could turn to, just random strangers he partied with. He had nothing left and he just didn't care anymore. He threw his life away the only way he knew how.

It started out as every other weekend, he would go to a party and get so wasted he couldn't even stand straight. Then it snowballed into every night. He went to a different party and if there wasn't a party he would drink alone at home.

At these parties he would hook up with different women to convince himself that he and Cas had never had whatever they had going on and the he wasn't gay. It killed the pain until he woke up and would do it all over again the next day.

He stopped going to school because his hangovers would be far to painful. In his mind he was living the high life.

It didn't take long for him to get addicted to drugs. It started off as marijuana, then cocaine, heroin, and eventually meth. He loved the high he got off of it.

The alcohol with the drugs made him feel like he could take on the world and helped him forget his worries.

Dean laughed as he threw the door to Bobby's house open. It slammed against the wall but he couldn't care. He slammed it behind himself. His legs gave out and he laughed as he hit the ground.

"Dean." A small voice croaked out. Dean hicupped with a huge, sloppy smile on his face he looked up to see who it was. He narrowed his eyes to get a better look at who it was in the dark. Once his eyes adjusted his smile grew even more and he bellowed out.

"Sammy!" He picked himself up and wrapped his arms around Sam's neck.

"How've ya been man!" He slurred. Sam pushed him off gently and looked at his brother with sad eyes.

SAMS POV

"How have ya been man!" He slurred out, his disgusting breath filling the air. His face was a sickly pale colour.

Under and around his eyes once bright green eyes was discoloured with a brownish redish, the high he was on lighting the dark bags.

His hair was a dull, greasy dirty blonde. His once full face was sunken in and bony. He must have lost at least 50 pounds within the past 2 months. He looked like a fucking mess.

"Dean. You're killing yourself." I whimpered.

"Wha? No way man!"

"Let's go to bed Dean, we can talk about it in the morning." I said gently.

"Talk about what!?" Dean pouted and stomped his foot like a 5 year old. I glared at him and he pouted but followed me up the stairs.

"This isn't right." He mummered.

"What isn't right?" I asked turning to look at him.

"I'm supposed to look after you, not you look after me." He had tears collecting in his eyes.

I smiled sadly at him.

"I know Dean, I know." I said softly as we made it to the top of the stairs

"I'm sorry Sammy." He said, his face slowly breaking as tears fell from his eyes.

"It's okay Dean. We can talk about this tomorrow." I said opening the door to his room.

The next morning I woke up determined to talk to Dean. A few days ago Bobby and I had talked about talking to him so Bobby was just as ready as I. It wasn't until about 6pm that Dean was finally out of bed. And he was getting ready to go back out again.

Bobby must have seen Dean getting ready too because he slammed his laptop shut and stood up.

"Where the hell you think yer goin boy!?" He erupted. Dean jumped and turned to look at Bobby with wide, surprised eyes.

"Out." He said quickly putting up a facade that didn't fool anyone.
"I don't think so boy. Go sit down at the table." Dean just rolled his eyes and pulled his shoes on.

"If you leave this house boy, don't you dare come back." Bobby roared making me jump. I've never seen him this mad before ever.

Dean froze. He slowly stood back up and took his shoes off. I let out a relived breath, glad he was finally going to listen.

Deans POV
Once Bobby yelled at me I stopped dead in my tracks. I sighed and took my shoes off and kept my head down.

"We need to talk." Sam said quietly and I looked up and glared at him. Once our eyes connected he looked away. His eyes were a bright blue today thanks to his shirt. The kids eye's always changed colour. I ached with guilt.

"Sit down boy." Bobby said gruffly pulling a chair out from the table.
Soundlessly I pulled a chair out for myself and sat down across from him.

"Do you remember last night?" Sam whispered. It was so quite you could practically hear a pin drop. Keeping my head down I nodded. Sam let out a sigh.

"You're killing yourself Dean." Sam repeated the same words he used last night. He was treating me like a fucking kid.

"No I am not!" I snapped at him with fire in my eyes. His eyes widened.

"Dean. You need help." Bobby said firmly.

"I dont need anything." I spat back at them.

"Yes you do Dean! I know what happened that night when you basically destroyed the house!" Sam blurted. He was bluffing he must have been.

"You don't know shit Sam." I whispered hot anger brewing inside of me.
"You don't know anything!" I scream slamming my hands against the table, kicking my chair behind me in rage. I could feel tears forming in my eyes.

Instead of flinching like I though he would Sam stood up and slammed his hands against the table, the same why I did. His eyes locked with mine as he spoke.

"I know you told Jo you liked Castiel that night. I know you kissed him that night. I know he told you you two couldn't see each other anymore. I know you almost punched him like you punched me. I remember you telling him to fuck off and most of all I remember how hurt you were!" By the time Sam was done screaming hot tears were streaming down my face.

"You know what Sam! Fuck you! I'm perfectly fine and I don't need any fucking help!" I screamed so loud my voice was raw after.

"Boy ya barley even eat anymore! Ya ate what, a piece if bread every few days? You're taken more drugs than even you can keep count of how the hell are you even up an' breathin'!" Bobby erupted.

Silence fell over the three of us.

Sobs broke out of my chest and echoed through the tense house. Two strong arms wrapped around my trembling frame and held me close.

Bobby knew I was gay and so did Sam. They were going to hate me now, Bobby was going to kick me out now.

I was a fuck up. Everyone I ever loved left me or I scared them off. If I didn't piss him off so much dad wouldn't have left and Sam would have had an actual biological parent. I killed mom. I killed her. It was my fault. I should have never asked to have that camp fire. I should never have asked to roast marshmallows that night. It was all my fault. I should have fucking known that the fire would spread. Even as a kid I was a fuck up.

I couldn't breath, I was chocking, suffocating.
Soothing hands ran up and down my back and I could hear a calming voice talking to me.

The flames. The fire.

It was all rushing back in waves. It was consuming me all over again.
I gasped in a deep breath, and breathed it back out as a sob. I felt sick.

I could feel the fire nipping at my innocent skin again. I could hear Sammy's desperate cry's for mom. I could hear dad screaming and the fire truck pulling up again. It was all coming back.

My stomach heaved. It was soon followed by a gag. The hands that were on my back left for a brief moment. A trash can appeared in front of me and all the content in my stomach were emptied into it. The hands that appeared back on my back were the only thing letting me know this was real.

Slowly I calmed down and my sobs turned into soft whimpers. Slowly I became grounded again.

I opened my painful eyes to be face to face with Sam's concerned eyes.

It was his hands on my back.

"I-I'm so so sorry Sam." I said, my voice hoarse from all the crying.

"Don't be Dean. I'm the one who should be sorry." I let out a bitter laugh.

"No, no you shouldn't. I'm the one who fucked everything up. I beat you up, ignored you, and now you're looking after me. I should be looking after you." I whispered my voice laced with exhaustion. He let out a soft sad smile.

"It doesn't work that way Dean. I am allowed to look after you from time to time." Sam looked positively hurt and drained. Almost has if he had nothing left.

"But Dad told me I had to look after you." I said looking up at him with pleading eyes. Bobby let out a snort from beside me. I jumped slightly, I hadn't even known he was there.

"Dad wasn't always right Dean."

"Yes he was!" I yelped with scared eyes.

"If he was right do ya think he'd be here right now?" Bobby asked, his voice rock hard. I looked at the two men in front of me. I felt like I was looking at them for the first time in a long time. Their eyes filled with mostly concern, worry and pain, sporting very large, heavy bags under them.

I had caused that.

Again.

I didn't think I was hurting them, I just though I was effecting myself. I had to stop this I couldn't hurt them anymore. A thought came rushing back to me.

"You don't care that I'm gay? That I like another guy?" I whispered getting ready for the vile langue to come out and crush me.

"Honestly Dean, I could care less." Sam said in is usual nerd voice.

My face dropped.

"You-you don't care?" I said disbelieving it. Sam shook his head.

I turned to look at Bobby and waited for his response. It took him a few moment before he replied. "Yeah. I'm okay with it you idjit." He said with a small smile.

"Dean. Will you please get help? Please?" I turned to look at Sam. His eyes glistened with tears. Through the tears he had such an intense look in his eye that I was scared if I looked away he'd break.

"O-okay."

Oh no a broken dean! The reason why we didn't see Dean crying over his mom and dad sooner is because he kept it buried and tucked away for a rainy day in his head. TODAY WAS THE RAINY DAY.

QUESTION FOR TODAY: Do you want me to write Dean's rehab experience?