CHAPTER 18: THE STRENGTH OF DISTRESS

Dean woke up to Nina's breathing sound, she was sleeping against his back. He turned around and brushed his fingers past her cheek, she smiled without opening her eyes.

He was attached to her, she was a victim too, except Nina never wanted to quit being a victim, she learnt how to love her life as it was… she was a consenting victim. She chose her regular clients, and her procurer was killed in a fight so she was free to work as she wanted.

Sometimes she would work in nightclubs to find new clients, and that's how she met Dean. She was renting a room in this hotel because she knew the owner for five years. He was married and never asked for Nina's favors, his wife was one of the cleaning ladies of the hotel, Nina knew her and she was paying her twice her price. She was giving the man 10% of her benefits to stay on his hotel.

She was a tenant like any other, she just had a particular job but was discreet about it. The men, and few women, that were coming for her were discreet too.

Dean smiled and got up. He looked outside, the sky was grey so he sighed. Nina hugged him from behind.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You're a poor liar."

He felt her smile on his shoulder.

"It's a dark day, that's all."

"You wanna talk?"

"No. I have to go or I'll be late for work." He replied.

She looked at him and saw he put money on the nightstand, under the "Venus of Milo" copy by Dali she loved so much. Then he left, giving her a last quick kiss on her lips.

The door closed on the only man in her life she has learnt to love. She laid down on the bed, breathed his scent and fell asleep with tears in her eyes.

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Dean started his shift without even eating breakfast, he couldn't eat anything today, he couldn't even drink coffee. He was so nervous he even forgot to greet the patients he met, and he worked so fast he finished one hour early.

He put his supplies back on the closet and got out quickly, he needed some fresh air.

He sat on the front stairs and finally looked up at the third floor. He didn't do it when he arrived.

Castiel was looking at him and seemed to feel his nervousness.

"Castiel, come over to eat please." Garth called.

He barely ate that morning.

Dean waited for Garth to open the gate, chewing his lips nervously. He couldn't relax.

"Hey, Dean!" Garth said typing the code.

"Hi."

He walked straight to the staff office to sign the register.

"Dude, are you ok? You look stressed today."

Dean sighed and sat on the side of the desk.

"I'm scared."

"You talked to Leyla?"

"I have to meet her before we go to Cas."

"She's a pro, Dean… and one of the best. You have to trust her."

He stepped closer.

"You also have to trust yourself…"

Dean gave him a tired smile.

"He's still so fragile…"

"Not so much, Dean… he's not fragile and he's not weak, I can assure you. And I'm sure you know it."

Dean stood up.

"Alright… time to go."

He was about to step out when Garth called:

"Dean?"

He stopped but didn't turn around.

"Castiel is not Sam."

Garth said this with apprehension, he was afraid Dean would have a bad reaction but he also knew he couldn't help but compare them. He saw his shoulders crashing down.

"I know, Garth."

He left and closed the door behind him.

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Leyla was waiting for him sitting behind her desk. When he entered, the first thing he saw was the dolls box. She put dolls and some other objects he couldn't define in it. She saw his face changing.

"Dean… you don't have to come if you don't want to."

"I want to."

He stepped forward and sat down.

"How do you feel?"

"Not so good."

He looked down. Leyla could see he was making nervous moves with his leg, and he was staring at his hands, fingers crossed.

"What are you afraid of?" she asked leaning her back on the chair.

"Are you analyzing me?"

"No…. I just need to know if I can count on you today. I know it will bring bad memories to you too, I know you wanted them dead forever and it cost you a lot to fight and bury them… but I also know your refuse to share some of them."

"I'm not the one who needs therapy today, am I?" he replied firmly.

"I need you to be with us, Dean. If you feel you can't handle it, nothing is forcing you to come with me. I can't deal with Castiel and you at the same time. Do you understand?"

"I promised I wouldn't give up on him… and this time I will keep my promise."

"Here we are."

Dean sank in his chair frowning.

"I'm gonna ask it again: what are you afraid of?"

"You're the shrink, you tell me." He said sarcastically.

"You won't lose him."

Dean looked at his feet.

"Are you afraid putting words on his pain will destroy him?"

He didn't answer, locked in his silence.

"Dean…" she insisted.

"The day before… before Sam killed our parents…" he looked up at Leyla.

"Dean…" she encouraged him leaning on her desk.

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Sam was sitting at the kitchen table, playing with his fork in his plate, a blank stare on his face.

Dean threw his jacket on the hallway table and entered.

"Hey!" he greeted opening the fridge.

He took a soda and took a chair to sit with his brother. Sam had no reaction.

"Are you ok? You fought with dad again?" Dean worried.

"No." Sam managed to say.

"You can tell me, you know?"

"Stop it, Dean. I'm not a kid anymore."

"So stop acting like one."

Sam pushed his plate away and leaned on his chair.

"I'm tired."

"I know." Dean said staring and playing with his soda. "I will soon have enough money for us to leave from here. I'm just asking you to hold on a few more months."

"Dean…" Sam sighed.

"Sam!" he pleaded with his eyes.

"I can't."

Dean pushed his chair closer to his brother.

"What's wrong? Tell me, Sam… I see something's been wrong for a few weeks."

"It's nothing, Dean. Forget it. I don't wanna talk."

"But you have to… we promised each other to always talk about everything. Don't keep this inside you or it'll kill you."

"I'm already dead, Dean."

"STOP IT!" He stood up suddenly and Sam jumped. "Don't you dare talk like that!"

"You wanted me to talk. So what do you want to hear? That I'm fine? We both know it's not true. We're not fine and he won."

"NO!" Dean yelled hitting the table. "He will win only if we give up… but we won't."

"I already gave up, Dean." Sam confessed looking down.

"What?"

"I can feel the anger inside me… that need to hit something and… and…"

"And what, Sam?"

"I love that feeling…" He said looking his brother with wet eyes.

"Of course, it's anger, it's normal to like it, and I can feel it too, but you have to turn it into strength to fight."

"I have no strength left. You asked me to put words on what I feel, well this is what I feel. This is it, Dean." He said crying. "I hold on to my distress only, and I do it for you… only for you. I can't hold my rage back inside anymore, it's eating me and it's winning, Dean."

"That's crap! You're not like him, you will never be like him!"

"I've hidden it deep inside me for years… I've fought so many times and I loved it… the fear on their faces…"

"You what?" Dean asked shocked, pulling a hand through his hair.

"You couldn't see it… you thought it was dad."

"Don't call him like that in front of me!" Dean shouted.

"But that's what he is, Dean… this man is our father… it's dad."

"SAM!"

"You wanted to know… now you know. Your little brother is just a copy of the man you're running from."

"Don't you dare talk like that, you hear me? YOU-ARE-NOT-HIM!"

"YES I AM!" Sam yelled and stood up. He was now dominating Dean as he was taller, and Dean stepped back when he read his father's look in Sam's eyes.

"I won't let him win… you're better than that… we can win this together… I'm gonna find a psychologist to help you."

Sam snorted. "Like the school shrink?"

"The what?" Dean asked surprised.

"Too many blows and after the first nice look someone gave me I ended up in front of the school psychiatrist."

"When? Why have you never said anything to me about that?"

"Because you wouldn't have understood, Dean."

"Understood what? Damn it! That you needed help?"

"No. That the shrink put real words on my pain.

Dean frowned.

"What did that dick tell you?"

"Nothing I didn't know already."

"Sam…" Dean insisted.

"He said 'like father like son'"

The sentence resonated in Dean's mind and reminded him of the unique 'accident' that happened in a January in his room.

"You believed him?"

"I found words to express how I feel… I always knew what I was."

"That's bullshit, and I'm sure you changed the shrink's words. Violence is not hereditary."

"Fifteen years of violence make you violent."

"Bullshit!" Dean yelled.

"I'm not as strong as you are, Dean… I so wished I could drain your strength…"

"You can!"

"No, it's too late… the devil is inside me."

"You listen to me…" Dean said trying to control himself, holding his brother by his shoulders "tomorrow I'll search for a specialist and we'll go to him together, as we will always be, for the best or the worst."

Sam smiled.

"The best…" Sam repeated laughing.

"Sam…" Dean sighed.

"Dean, you're the only good thing life brought to me, you're the only 'best' I'll ever know."

"As you are to me, Sammy… ain't it a good reason to fight?"

"I can't… and I don't want to anymore. I lost all my strength."

"We will get him Sammy, we won't let him win, he won't take that away from us."

"Thank you, Dean."

"For what?"

"Thank you to have listened to me. I needed it. Now I know who I am and I know what to do."

Dean froze.

"Sam?"

"Don't worry… I'll follow your advice… I'll fight for both of us."

Dean stepped closer and tenderly hugged his brother.

The day after, Sam murdered his parents.

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Leyla listened without interrupting. When he looked up he was crying.

"I'm scared all of this will kill him too."

"Dean… Castiel is not Sam…"

"I know that, damn it! Why are you all saying that to me?" he stood up to hide his pain.

"Do you think words can't heal? Do you think they kill?"

"I believe words can be terrible weapons, yes. The crap my parents did to us was nothing compared to what they said. The humiliation by the words is the worst. The physical wounds can heal and disappear, but the wounds left by words never leave." He explained pointing at his head. "He repeated to Sam he was a monster like him, and Sam finally believed him. He believed he would end up like him and be proud of it… he was so fragile... I couldn't find the right words to prove the son of bitch was wrong!"

"You were just a kid, Dean… it's not your role to hold that burden."

"I know… But it doesn't change anything."

"You hold it the longest you could."

"Not long enough." He sighed "If I had to lose Castiel too I…"

"Why would you lose him? He survived after thirty years of hell, you think he resisted so long to give up now?"

"Maybe he's waiting this to finally release his grip…" Dean whispered.

"Dean…He came to you, and he came to us, even to me… he's the one asking for it. He needs it."

"Does he?... or do we?"

"Let's say we all need it, let's be honest on that point." She answered smiling.

"You really think playing with dolls will help him?" he tried to sound casual but it turned sarcastic.

"I've seen children screaming their pain through these representations of their torturers, and they were finally relieved. Castiel doesn't talk and apparently he doesn't want to so…"

"Has he ever talked?"

"Probably. We can't be sure, but this therapy worked before, Dean… let's give him a chance."

"Yeah right… You're talking about a chance…"

"There is absolutely no night he spends without having nightmares, ending under his bed to run from her. I don't think showing his pain out and share it with us can be worse than that. I hope we'll manage to make him understand he's not guilty and she was the monster… not him…"

"What will it change for him?" he interrupted "You think knowing my father was beating the crap out of us and my mom was drinking till she drowned, and knowing we were innocent victims has changed anything for Sam or me? What would've changed something though, would be that someone gave a damn about it and got us the hell away from them!"

"And that's exactly what we'll try to do with Castiel today."

"It's not today that he needs it, it was thirty years ago… when nobody cared about his screams and his sobs resonating in his fucking attic!"

"It's never too late…"

"It is for him."

"Do you truly think what you're saying here?"

"I think he can live better but you and I know he will never have a normal apple pie life. How could it be possible? I already know, when I look into his eyes, that he lived more than we could possibly imagine…"

"Like what?"

"What?... nothing!"

He closed his eyes and remembered that day in January… that unique but awful day that marked him forever. When Castiel gripped his sleeves yesterday he recognized the look in his eyes because that day, he had the same.

"That's why you're so scared? You're afraid to learn more than you would want to?"

"I'm scared to learn that something that happened once in my life became a morbid ritual for him… And if this is really what it was, I can assure you he will never have any self-esteem, he must feel dirty and corrupted to his body and his soul."

"What do you think she did exactly?"

He stayed quiet for a while.

"Nothing in particular." He lied.

"Ok… we should go now."

He made her understand without saying it clearly, so she didn't insist. Dean seemed to be less nervous, and maybe he could handle the truth now.

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Castiel was sitting and staring at his hand leaned on his knees. He ignored the dolls placed in front of him on the table. Leyla explained to him what to do with them using easy words, she said the dolls were him and them.

Dean was sitting on the bed, while Leyla was waiting patiently a reaction from Castiel, leaning against the wall. She didn't want to rush him, he needed to do it by choice when he would decide it was the right time.

Minutes passed by with no word pronounced, they could only hear their breath mixing. Dean finally stood up and Castiel discretely followed him with his eyes.

Dean stared at the dolls: there were men, women and children from each age, each hair and skin color. He took a male doll with dark hair by its feet and sighed, then he took another one, a boy. He looked at Leyla.

"Dean?" she questioned.

"I'll be fine."

He sat in front of Castiel on the bed.

"My dad." He said showing him the first doll. "If I can call him that way…" he laughed nervously. "He never loved us… me or Sam, my parents never wanted us, too bad my mom wasn't sterile." He said sarcastically.

"As far as I can remember, he always hated us… he always put myself down and humiliated me… I think in my oldest memory I must be 5."

He was talking without looking away from the doll.

"He told me once he would've rather see me die in my mom's gut… his own words… I never forgot. He beat me the first time around that age too."

He leaned his hand to his cheek, remembering how hard the slap was on his kid's face. It was also the first time he tasted blood, and he remembered the questioning look he gave him… why?

He turned to Castiel who was looking at him tightening the doll in his hand so hard his fingers were white and red.

"Slaps… punch… kicks… harder and harder…"

He took the boy doll and placed it in front of the male doll.

"He was beating again and again."

He mimed it using the dolls.

"Our tears couldn't stop him because he loved it so much… he was beating again and again until we were knocked-out on the floor. After a while Sam and I just faked being unconscious after a few blows just for him to stop it and go away drinking his whisky."

A long silence settled but Leyla didn't interrupt.

After a while Castiel stretched his arm and took the boy doll in his hand, looking up to Dean.

"This is me… and this is you…"

He showed him the man doll.

"This is them…" he whispered.

Castiel observed the doll a long time, it seemed he understood what Dean said and mimed, but he couldn't find the way to move and do the same for himself. The pain was too real… the nightmares were still here haunting him.

Leyla stood up, took a female doll and came to the bed. She handed it to Dean without a word and Castiel tensed.

"Cas… if you don't want to, just don't do it, ok? You heard me? Nothing bad will happen to you, you're safe here and I'm right here with you."

He bent to reach his eyes.

"Cas… I'm right here and I won't go."

Castiel slowly started to hit the boy doll on his knee. He suddenly caught the female doll, which made Dean jump… Castiel was gone somewhere else. Dean looked up at Leyla with a panic look on his face and she quickly came next to him.

"Cas?" Dean called crouching down in front of him. "Cas!"

Castiel put the female doll on top of the boy doll and he rubbed them together in messy and brutal moves.

Dean understood.

Castiel stopped and threw the dolls on the floor. He was now looking at his hands. And very quickly, without Dean or Leyla to realize what was happening, he punched his crotch hard and for the first time… he shouted out, with his hoarse and shaky voice, broken after so many years of silence, he screamed his distress out, he yelled his pain and his hate without a single tear coming down, only rage.

Dean caught his wrists strongly to avoid him to hurt himself, and he laid him on the bed. Castiel was screaming and struggling with all the strength he could find in his distress, and Leyla pushed the emergency button.

"Cas calm down!... Cas it's me, Dean! Calm down damn it you're gonna hurt yourself!"

Dean was now leaning over him maintaining his arms on his chest, still holding his wrists tight.

"Cas… please!" Dean pleaded in Castiel's ear.

Garth entered in a rush ready to act.

"Stay where you are!" Dean yelled to him.

Leyla stepped back near the table, Garth stepped near the bed and stopped.

"Cas!" Dean called again.

Castiel stopped screaming but he was breathing fast and loud.

"Shhhh… Ok, good… calm down. I'm here."

He stopped struggling and stared at the ceiling, searching for the skylight that wasn't here anymore… no beam… only white paint.

He breathed deeper and started to calm down a little. Dean released his wrists and sat straight on the bed.

"Cas?" Dean called again and caressed his forehead gently, pulling a hair lock back.

He did the same thing with Sam, but his father and his ghost were not here to stop him anymore.

"Look at me…" He said trying to catch Castiel's shifty eyes.

"Cas, look at me!"

He caught his face between his hands and Leyla stepped forward, but Castiel didn't move away, he let Dean do without reacting… he was lifeless and lost.

Dean lifted his head a little, forcing him to meet his eyes.

"Look at me!"

He finally found Dean's eyes and he begged him.

"I know… it hurts… but she's gone, Cas. She's dead, you understand? You're free and you don't have to be scared anymore. No more attic… no more monster… and no more beating."

Castiel didn't seem to understand. Dead?... what did that mean? He could still see her leaning over him, he could still see her scary smile and he could still feel the pain.

No more beating… No more attic… no more skylight… the quiet man was gone too… he couldn't smell him on his skin anymore.

There was Dean… Just Dean… He stared at his green eyes… he was so tired! He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Dean refused to leave the room, he wanted to be present when Castiel would wake up. He wanted him to see a familiar face when he would open his eyes.

Leyla put the dolls back in the box with Garth's help. She stayed crouched down a while when she picked up the female and boy dolls. She was very surprised about Castiel's reaction, it's been very sudden and very intense… he literally exploded. She never saw this in more than ten years of her career… she really thought Castiel wouldn't react at his first session.

He was still a mystery. It was like a single image from an inanimate object opened the gate of thirty years of pain and silence.

It also showed Castiel hated himself… his last move was the proof of it, he didn't hit the female doll… he hit himself… with so much rage! She would have to teach him how to respect himself and his body… he would have to control his emotions too… and to love himself as he was, with his scars but also with his strengths.

She learnt more about Castiel in an hour of therapy with Dean than she did alone in a year.

She stood up and looked at Dean who took a chair and sat next to Castiel's bed to watch over him. She stepped closer and handed a small box to Dean.

"In case of emergency, just push the red button, it will turn the alarm on in the nurse's office."

"I don't need it. Thank you."

"Dean…" she insisted handing him the box again. "You take it or you leave the room. I can't take any risk here. He might have another outbreak and hurt himself… or hurt you."

He finally took the box without looking at it.

"I told you so… he wasn't ready."

She took a step forward.

"Oh yes he is, Dean. He finally relieved his pain, now our job is to guide him because unfortunately, he's not done screaming his pain out."

"Then I'll be here." Dean replied, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"We'll be here." Leyla added.

End of chapter XVIIII