Chapter : 14

Dean had been gone for three weeks.

Castiel wouldn't be as nervous about the extended trip as he was had Dean been staying in contact. For the first week of the trip, the couple texted back and forth once or twice daily, but in the second week their conversations grew further and further apart until, in the third week, they were non-existent.

Castiel's heart ached every time he sent a message and received no reply; what made it worse was seeing watching Sam sitting across the room, texting Dean, unaware that his older brother was ignoring Castiel. The junior had to wonder what he could have possibly done wrong- was saying he loved Dean too much? Had he offended the older boy somehow?

Whatever he had done, he only wanted to fix it.

"Dean is coming back tonight," Sam announced from his place in the living room, long limbs looking squashed where he was tucked in the corner of the couch. Castiel was standing in the miniscule kitchen of the Winchester house, scrubbing harshly at a stained dish, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows.

"Is that so?" Castiel replied, running the now stainless plate under the faucet and setting it to dry on a nearby towel as he reached for another one of the filthy plates stacked in the sink.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, thumbs flying over the keyboard of his phone. "Says Dad's coming home with him,"

"That's good, right?" Castiel questioned, sparing Sam a look out of the corner of his eyes. The youngest Winchester boy had mixed feeling about his father; that much Castiel had been able to tell from the beginning. He never knew when Sam was pleased with Mr. Winchester, or when the two were in the middle of an extended argument.

"Yeah, I guess." Sam said after a moment of calculation, shrugging. "I'm glad neither of them is hurt this time, though."

"Yes," Castiel agreed. "Another hospital trip would not be preferable,"

Sam chuckled, nodding, before falling silent as he went back to his phone. Castiel's own cellular device sat heavy and silent in his back pocket, taunting him, and Castiel found himself scrubbing the dish in his hands with irritated force. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to treat the porcelain more gently and ignore his mixed emotions regarding Dean.

Once finished with the task of dishes, Castiel found himself without a task to complete. With a heavy sigh he shuffled to the mat beside the front door and pulled on his shoes, leaning against the arm of the couch as he laced them.

"Where you headed?" Sam said curiously as he set his phone aside to look at Castiel.

"Just on a walk," Castiel replied evenly, flashing Sam a reassuring smile as he stood and buried his hands in his pockets.

"Have fun. You're staying here tonight, right?" For the past week Castiel had been staying with Sam, sleeping in Dean's unoccupied bed because the younger Winchester had asked for company and Castiel himself had been a bit lonely. He frowned at the younger boys question, however.

"I'm not sure, Sam." He admitted.

"C'mon, Cas. Tomorrow's your birthday; we can get up and go buy cake," Sam bargained, and Castiel sighed as the younger boys hazel eyes widened fractionally, his lower lip drooping. Honestly, Castiel had forgotten that tomorrow was the first of April and the seventeen year marker of his birth.

"Fine," He answered, resolve cracked. "But no cake; I prefer milkshakes,"

"Milkshakes it is," Sam smiled, eyes twinkling as he reached for the remote, efficiently ending the conversation. Castiel smiled, snagging a random coat from the peg near the door – his well loved trench coat was at home, trapped in the washing machine – and skipping over the weak spots in the porch as he stepped into the yard.

The snow had disappeared a little over a week ago, but it was still bitterly cold, especially as near to dark as it was at the moment. Castiel zipped the coat up to his neck, recognizing the faint smell of soap and leather as Dean and smiling faintly as he hugged the cloth closer to his body. It was pitiful that he was comforted by a smell that reminded him of Dean, yet he couldn't find it in him to care.

Tucking his hands in the pockets of the coat, he was surprised to find Dean's Walkman and a pair of tangled headphones. It was a pleasant surprise, though; the device had fascinated Castiel since he'd first seen it, and he had started to enjoy the classic rock that Dean was such a big fan of.

Placing the buds in his ears, Castiel was greeted with the sound of Aerosmith's I Don't Want to Miss a Thing; a song he had labeled as his and Dean's. He hummed softly alongside the lead singer, his walk forgotten; instead he explored the Winchester property, venturing into the small forest behind the house and following a trail of raccoon prints until they ended at the edge of a creek.

It was a wide creek, easily ten yards across, but not nearly as deep. The rocks were covered in moss and there were small signs of life littering the forest surrounding it; animal tracks and clumps of fur in the underbrush. Castiel smiled to himself, an idea coming to mind as he stepped hesitantly onto one of rocks peeking out over the water and balanced there precariously. His eyes scanned the surface, looking for another exposed rock, and he took a cautious leap when he found it. He landed gracefully atop the stone, grinning with pride at the fact that he had managed not to lose his balance.

Arms spread cautiously, he continued this pattern of hopping and balancing until he had reached the center of the creek, perching atop a rock large enough to sit down on, had he the desire. The water continued on as far as the eye could see in either direction, and Castiel thought it was quite a peaceful sight as he buried his hands in the pockets of his coat and huffed out a content cloud of breath that hovered momentarily before dissipating.

Above him the sun was only minutes away from setting, casting the forest around him in shadows, and Castiel decided it would be wiser to return to the Winchester home rather than spend the night atop a rock in the middle of the woods. Retracing his earlier path, he managed to make it back to the bank of the creek with only a minor slip up and a boot full of water.

Squelching his way back to the house, he encountered nothing outside of a shy doe who bolted upon his approach and a raccoon who seemed keen on following him all the way to the edge of the woods before shying away. Castiel bid the animal farewell, tucking the Walkman back in his pocket as he walked around the side of the house.

His eyes were on his wet boot, a scowl twisting his face, when he collided with a much larger body.

"Careful, son," John Winchester grabbed a hold of the younger boy, righting him, before Castiel could fall. The teenager blushed, avoiding making eye contact with the adult. "What're you doing out here in the cold?"

"I went on a walk," Castiel answered, glancing up to find an amused smile on the oldest Winchester's face; there was a lot of Dean's carefully mastered composure in the way John held himself, but also a lot of Sam's tender manner as well.

"Not a great idea." Mr. Winchester scolded, hands in his pockets. "There's some nasty snakes in those woods who're likely to sneak up on you when you're not paying attention,"

"Yes, sir," Castiel replied. "Sorry, sir."

"I'm not mad kid," Mr. Winchester chuckled, clapping Castiel on the shoulder as he made to pass the younger boy. "You better head inside, though; Dean's looking for you,"

Castiel perked up at the notion of seeing Dean, muttering a brief thank you before he practically ran around the building and – careful to avoid the bad spots on the porch – into the house. He expected to find Sam and Dean, but not in the manner he found them.

Sam had Dean by the throat, the younger boy pinning the older to the wall nearest to the kitchen. Dean made no move to struggle, though Sam's lower lip was bleeding and the skin around the older boys left eye was slowly swelling closed; Dean's expression lacked any emotion, completely contrary to the rage flashing deep in Sam's eyes.

"Cas, go outside." Sam growled, his expression fierce as he glanced at the stunned teenager in the doorway.

"What's going on?" He demanded weakly, looking between the two brothers; Dean's eyes were far way, looking at a place above Castiel's head. Both siblings were quiet, Sam breathing hard and Dean unnervingly calm.

"Nothing," Dean finally announced, some of the glassy quality leaking from his eyes as he glanced at Sam. "Me and Sammy just had a bit of a disagreement."

Castiel watched as the siblings stared at each other for a long time, some sort of silent conversation passing between them before Sam jerked away from Dean with a loud curse. The older boy cleared his throat, rubbing tenderly at his windpipe as his eyes followed Sam. The younger sibling paced for a moment before coming to a halt near the television, his hands clenched into fists and his jaw tight.

Dean watched Sam a moment longer before turning to Cas, his expression guarded as he crossed the room and pressed a stiff kiss of greeting to the younger boys forehead. There was something off in his movements; it wasn't flowing and graceful as it should be, rather forced and mechanical.

"You got your car keys?" He muttered softly into Castiel's hair and the younger boy nodded. "Let's go for a drive, okay?" Castiel frowned, looking up at the taller boy with a questioning expression. Dean simply shook his head, motioning Castiel to go out the door and following closely behind.

"Dean," Sam called, and both Castiel and Dean came to a stop in their motions. "I'll never forgive you."

Dean tensed, the air visibly punched from his chest as he scowled at his younger brother and motioned Castiel to leave the house with a jerk of his hand. The younger boy did as he was motioned, uncomfortable being trapped in the middle of a family dispute, and Dean slammed the door behind himself without answering Sam's words.

"Keys," Dean gruffed, and Castiel pressed the keys to his Mustang into Dean's palm without question, climbing into the passenger's seat as Dean started the car. The older boy burnt rubber getting out of the driveway, taking off down the highway at easily ninety miles per hour, his jaw ticking angrily.

Castiel knew he should be scared – Dean had quiet the temper, and driving while upset was a major danger – but the only thing he could feel was concern for his boyfriend. Cautiously, as if approaching a caged animal, Castiel laid his hand over Dean's on the steering wheel, feeling the sharp bones of the older boy's knuckles under his fingers and squeezing them soothingly.

Dean seemed to relax, if only fractionally, under the touch so Castiel didn't bother to pull his hand away as Dean drove towards God only knows where. The weather outside the car had turned nasty, thunderheads covering the moon and fat drops of rain starting to wet the windshield. Dean seemed to sense the danger of the situation and slowed to an even speed of sixty, his grip on the wheel relaxing enough that Castiel removed his hand from its place over Dean's and placed it in his lap.

"What was Sam talking about?" Castiel asked as Dean turned off onto a dirt road and put the car in park, the engine idling as the older boy leaned back in the driver's seat and combed his fingers through his hair.

"It's stupid," Dean breathed out, the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes as he spoke. "Just… So fucking stupid,"

"What do you mean?" Castiel muttered, turning in his chair to face Dean, leaning against the car door as he pulled his legs to his chest and rested his chin on his knees.

Dean was quiet a long time, frozen in his position until he slowly lowered his hands from his eyes and stared up at the roof of the car, the only sound outside of his steady breathing being the rain.

"He's mad at me for something that really doesn't concern him." Dean finally muttered, staring at nothing as he spoke.

"May I ask what?" Castiel spoke quietly, as if anything louder than a whisper would startle Dean.

"Us."

The answer was simple- a single word- yet it sent ice racing up and down Castiel's back; why would Sam have said something such as 'I'll never forgive you' regarding to their relationship? There wasn't anything wrong with their relationship outside of a communication error, and Sam had always seemed pleased that they were together. What could have possibly changed?

"Why is he upset?" Castiel muttered, reaching out to play with the hem of Dean's t-shirt. The older boy made no move to stop him.

"Because he knew I was going to break up with you as soon as I got back," Dean answered, no hesitation or emotion present in his tone. Castiel dropped the shirt as if it had suddenly caught fire, sucking in a sharp and sudden breath as if he had been physically assaulted.

"W-What?" Castiel whispered, positive his ears must be deceiving him; this must be a nightmare he would soon wake up from.

"He knew I was going to call it off," Dean repeated, turning to stare at Castiel with intense green eyes. "He knew I was going to break up with you, Castiel."

The younger boy shrank in on himself, as if clutching any tighter at his chest would hold him together; would prevent this from happening, and protect him from the realization that this was no dream. He find ran through the past seven months, of all the smiles and laughter; the way Dean would watch him when he thought Castiel wasn't looking, and the way his voice rose and fell protectively at the mention of anyone who had ever hurt Castiel. He thought of Dean's birthday, and the picture in his boyfriend's wallet; he remembered Christmas Eve and the virginity he'd so willingly given to Dean.

He thought of everything, and he could find nothing to explain this.

"Get out of the car, Dean." Castiel demanded quietly, fighting the urge to cry, his voice swollen and thick as he stepped out of the car himself and into the rain. The water didn't bother him- honestly, he didn't feel it at all. The only thing on his mind was Dean, and how wrong the words coming out of his mouth were.

The older boy did as he was told, stepping out of the car and closing the door behind himself as Castiel walked slowly around to his side of the car. The two watched each other, Dean's expression blank and Castiel's weary.

"Tell me." Castiel demanded over the sound of the rain.

"Tell you what," Dean sighed.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" Castiel snapped before taking a moment to compose himself. "Dean, this isn't you… You… You can't just… What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing," Dean's eyes flashed briefly before the same numb expression settled into place once more. "This is on me, Cas. I'm just… Not interested, anymore. I dated you to get in your pant, that's all."

That – that stung. Castiel's eyes watered and he was grateful that the rain hid his tears.

"So, that's it then? Mission complete, you're leaving now?" Castiel croaked, his voice trembling; he hid his hurt behind anger, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

"Pretty much," Dean nodded, burying his hands in his pockets, casually leaning against the car.

"You can't expect me to believe that all you wanted was sex from me," Castiel bit out. "If you stayed with me for four months after you finally got it!"

"You're a good lay," Dean shrugged, toeing at the muddy ground under foot. "Guess I didn't wanna give that up."

Castiel had heard enough; he knew when Dean was hiding behind his cocky attitude, and that's exactly what he was doing now. The younger boy surged forward, grabbing Dean by the front of his jacket and smashing the boys lips together hard enough that he tasted blood.

Dean responded almost immediately, his hands knotting in Castiel's wet hair and his tongue meeting the younger boys; the taste of rain mixed with Dean had Castiel's heart racing, his blood boiling. They shared desperate pants of breath, their bodies pressed close together, for almost a minute before Dean seemed to realize was he was doing.

The older boy pushed Castiel away with a sudden force, and the younger boy didn't have a minute to respond before there was a sudden throbbing in his right eye, and Dean was cradling a now sore fist.

Dean had hit him.

Castiel's throat swelled close, his tears mixing with the downpour as he touched his fingertips to the now tender skin around his eye and drew away to find a small dab of red; Dean's nail must have cut him. Swallowing hard, he looked down, willing away his trembling.

"I guess I'll take you home, then." Castiel choked out, wanting to be rid of his now ex boyfriend as soon as possible. All he wanted to do was curl up and cry; the sooner he broke down, the sooner he could try to move on. Try to go back to the usual silent-method of existence and the lonely school life.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, his jaw clenched as he flexed his finger experimentally and moved around to the passenger's side, sliding into the car and sitting quietly as Castiel took a moment.

How could he have been stupid enough to fall in love someone outside of Anna and Gabriel? All that loved had ever done for him was give him people who left him bleeding and alone; Balthazar, Lucifer, Michael- everyone. Why should he have expected Dean to be any different?

Why would anyone have loved him enough to stay?

Sliding back into the car, Castiel avoided so much as glancing at Dean as he pulled out onto the highway and headed back towards the Winchester house, silent tears rolling down his cheeks, the saltwater stinging the new cut just below right eye.

"This doesn't mean you're going to ignore Sam, does it?"

"Don't talk to me." Castiel's tone was clipped, his hands tight on the wheel as he tried to focus on the road through his tears and the stormy weather.

"It's not Sam's fault." Dean continued.

"Shut. Up." Castiel ordered, his voice cracking as he stepped harder on the gas.

"You can't put the blame on Sammy. He didn't do anything wrong." Dean insisted, and Castiel could feel the weight of Dean's eyes on him as they barreled down the road.

"Well neither have I, but God sure as Hell thinks it's funny to punish me!" Castiel shouted, his voice too loud in the cab of the car, his pulse pounding in his ears as he leaned forward over the wheel. He could hardly see past the blur of tears and rain, only the occasional flash of lighting exposing the road.

"He's a kid," Dean growled. "And he doesn't deserve to lose a friend because of me."

"You should have thought of that before, you assbutt." Castiel snapped, hiccupping on a sob and wincing as the car went over a particularly violent bump.

"Assbutt? Yeah, good insult," Dean's eyes almost audibly rolled.

"Just shut the hell up, Dean! Just shut up!" Castiel demanded, stepping hard on the gas and sending the car flying forward faster than before. "You have no right to mock me, you insensitive bastard; that's all you've been doing for seven months, so please take a break!"

"Why? It's fun."

Castiel couldn't understand how someone so sweet and caring could morph into a monster, but he had no response to Dean's words this time; rather he couldn't fight the sobs breaking their way past his defenses. The road blurred, the humiliation and pain curling in his gut, and he barely had time to register the stop sign before he was roaring past it.

There was suddenly a great amount of light and sound and pain- and then a slowly approaching darkness.

When Castiel took a driver's training class, he had watched an impact video from the inside of a car. He had seen the way the dummies were jerked under the impact, and the way the metal folded in around them. He could remember sitting in class thinking how terribly claustrophobic the experience would be; thinking about how many people died from such a simple thing as a collision.

Never had he thought he would experience it; never did he think he'd be one of the crosses on the side of the high way- and never did he think that hearing Dean Winchester call out his name would lull him to sleep.

XxXxXxX

Please don't hate me?