Chapter 16

WARNING: angst, suicidal thoughts (lightly).

This is a short chapter that will be in two parts, I hope you don't hate me for what I am going to do. It's all Destiel.

Suggestion: read this story listening to Somebody That I Used To Know by Gotye… you're welcome…

~…o0o…~

People living just to find emotion

hiding somewhere in the night.

~ Don't Stop Believing by Journey

It was a splendiferous sensation that coursed throughout his skin, the touch of the cold fluid sending shivers down his spine, making the hairs throughout his body stand on end. It was similar to flying, he thought, letting the water hold you like a babe in its womb, delicately; to feel light as a feather and fragile at the mercy of it. It gave him an individual peace when he could not find it himself, when anxiety crept its way into his being threatening a borderline disaster within because he never felt enough, never enough to be loved, never enough to deserve what good of life there may be. There was a certain perfection looked upon him but he knew his flawed life whereas others blinded themselves by his merits, never caring enough to look beyond; they wanted perfection and so he masked his flaws with achievements but, the emptiness was never filled by them. He was cold; as cold as cold could be.

The absence of two beings who gave him life shaped him into his worst best, perhaps too superlative like a machine, no emotions developed, no superior emotion beyond familial affection; like a stone, a perfect Rosetta stone. If he had a heart he would have loved. Truth be told, he felt as the inessential being occupying space in the universe thinking that another wishing soul could do better, much better than him and find a purpose to be alive. He was alive because he was asked to be, however, from a younger age his sensible argument and thought stated that life was an option, not an obligation. That is until Dean Winchester broke him with a single kiss; he felt it shatter like glass just by a touch. And he was lost, so lost that it frightened him, the idea of transforming a heart of stone into a warm and beautiful thing terrified him thus, it was his innocent and fragile heart at stake with all these new feelings for a being outside the family circle. But Castiel should have expected it, should have known a happy ending was only for fairytales but he was naïve, so naïve he was blinded with overwhelming emotions Dean made him experience when being in his warm embrace, those soft kisses that promised love, those beautiful forest green eyes staring into his as if he were a precious creation of God. But he was mistaken beyond his own belief but, presently he saw himself as he truly was; a speck in the universe undeserving of the good. Dean taught him how to love and he introduced him to heartbreak.

T'was impossible to erase the memory of those same feelings that were burned on his skin of those soft lips upon his, those same lips that spoke words he thought were only for him. T'was impossible to incinerate the images of those same lips he thought belonged to him upon Lisa's, those strong hands that had caressed his face, had held his own, had been only his and were now or held her, those sinful hands trailing along her curves, her thighs; her. What lies had he believed, had told himself that he deserved happiness, deserved Dean Winchester. The ignition of self-loathe all over again, the blame that weighed upon his shoulders because he had been too innocent, too inexperienced with intimacy that caused the one he loved to seek release in other's arms.

Castiel should not have been there, should not have wanted to surprise Dean by waiting for him after practice outside the locker room holding those mediocre movie tickets in his trembling hands, but he managed to convince himself it was simply anxiety of being there waiting to hear Dean's response to his request; a date for just the two after school.

But he waited, waited as he watched all the footballers leave one by one already showered and fresh. He should have not gained the courage to walk inside the locker room and look for Dean but the curiosity overtook him. Castiel took step by step as if his feet were walking on air, so silent it was inhuman how he was capable of sneaking into places without others being aware of his presence; a noise close to a whimper coming from the shower rooms made him curious, it shouldn't have. He should have walked away, walked away as far as his feet would take him, but he had to, he had to know what it was, that feeling inside him pushing him to step forward, oh how he cursed it.

And there he was, Castiel standing with the door ajar peeking through the shower rooms, his eyes fixed upon something or someone that made him nauseous, made him sick. Dean, Dean Winchester holding Lisa whore Braeden, kissing her with hunger and lust, allowing her sordid hands to touch him, to feel his bare skin. They did not acknowledge his presence and he disappeared like a phantasm out of their lives. Two movie tickets lay on the floor, and so did shards from a broken heart.

Castiel felt his lungs compressing from the lack of air, he surfaced his head out of the water up to his chin to breathe. The emptiness in his gaze lay upon the wall, his eyes burned as if acid had been poured upon them but it'd been from the tears he'd shed and his soul ached to the extremity of numbness. How much he yearned to be held by Dean, to hear his lies again professing his love unto him, to kiss his lips until he felt alive once more. But Dean was gone, gone far from him and his older siblings had denied the boy seeing Castiel, how they urged to rip him apart, break his every bone in his body but Castiel would only be hurt more if they did such thing, however, his older twin had broken Dean's nose and the boy had returned to his own home bleeding.

"Castiel…" Gabriel knocked on the bathroom door which Castiel had locked. "You have been there for a long time, I need to know how you are, please?" there was no answer but he stood waiting behind that door. "Castiel, please…"

"I am alive, Gabriel. Do not worry about me." he responded in monotone.

"I left you supper on your desk, please eat. You need it…" Gabriel's voice sounded broken, a kind of broken enough to pierce through. He was not broken as Castiel but hurt, hurt so much it angered him; his best friend, the person he trusted most besides his twin had hurt the one person Gabriel cared for truly more than anyone and that was not something he could easily forgive.

Castiel heard Gabriel's footsteps fade from a distance until the door was closed once again. The pounding of his heart in his chest was like a never ending torture, one that made him aware how alive he was yet very dead, very cold, he wish it stopped beating at all. The room temperature was warm, he managed to clothe his body before dropping on the bed weak; the photos of Dean and himself that day at the photo booth framed stood next to his alarm clock on the lamp table. How it hurt to see them. How he urged to burn them, but he could not, he wanted to keep them as a sweet memory despite of everything and all, he loved the boy, could not hate him as much as he wished he could. His head lay on the pillow which was by far drenched in hot tears but, he was thankful for one thing; he felt what love truly was, what heartbreak was, how much it could hurt and he was thankful for having had something meaningful to him for a while than to have had nothing at all…

~…o0o…~

This hurt like a bitch to write, and I mean because it is so emotional…

Before you murder Dean Winchester, I shall explain what happened in the next chapter.