I would like to thank to follow this fic, I know it's a hard one but never forget : light is in the end of the road….

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CHAPTER 19: THE WEIGHT OF THE SCARS

She was here, waiting patiently, glancing at her watch from time to time and staring at the Impala by the window… 7.45 pm… damn was he late! She sighed. She was about to leave when the door opened and she saw Dean.

She couldn't help but smiled even if she was a bit nervous… What if he was here only to tell her he wouldn't come? … Only to be polite and apologize…

But he was wearing a nice black shirt, black pants, and he smelled pretty good… he dressed up.

"Sorry I'm late… I lost track of time." He apologized looking down, a little embarrassed.

"It's ok… you're here." She replied shyly.

"Yeah…"

They looked like teenagers at their first date: shy, uncomfortable and clumsy.

"Are we going? We'll be late if we don't move." Dean said opening the front door.

As he walked outside, he couldn't help and looked up at the third floor. It was dark already, days were shorter, Dean couldn't see if he was here or not. He felt his heart clenching again, that weird feeling he didn't deserve to have fun while Castiel was unhappy in his room, but at the same time he had to keep living.

He felt good with Suzanne, she wasn't judging him and she took him with his flaws, his pain and his scars.

He opened the car's door for her and laughed quietly… when did he become a gentleman? She found his clumsiness cute and touching. She settled her dress and sat down in the car, and Dean looked at her before closing the door.

They didn't talk much on the way, not that Dean didn't want to, but he kept thinking about Castiel. The session they had a few hours ago was still in his mind and it was still painful to think about it… and it was just the beginning of the therapy. He knew Castiel wasn't ready to share his most painful memories, he could feel it and he saw it.

He needed to put words on his moves now, and he needed tears to ease his pain too. He could feel he was just keeping his pain locked inside and it was eating him. Leyla planned the next session on Monday afternoon, it could at least give Dean the time to clear his mind.

Tomorrow he would take his guitar, music would relax Castiel after today's breakout… it would relax himself too at the same time. He just wanted to find those moments back.

He could feel Suzanne's look on him… she knew what was bothering him. Actually the whole hospital knew what happened in room 14 that day and everyone was now praying for Castiel to win this, for Dean to hold on, and for Leyla to bring the miracle they hoped for so much: the revival of the attic boy.

She turned towards him.

"Sorry I'm not very good company tonight… maybe I shouldn't have come after all." Dean apologized.

"It's ok, I have to admit I'm not very talkative either… I'm a bit…" she paused and looked outside, not knowing how to finish her sentence.

"I know… me too." Dean added. "I'm not used to it, I mean… dates… actually it must be one of my firsts to tell you the truth." He laughed.

It was true, it was his first real date and he wasn't even the one who asked her out.

"I'm not used to it either… you can't even imagine what it cost me to invite you out." Suzanne confessed. "I never did that before."

"So why me?" Dean asked curious.

"I don't know, some things can't be explained… I saw you and I thought … "it's him."

She blushed and looked down. Dean smiled, he knew that feeling.

"Thank you." He said while the car entered the town center.

"For what?"

"For doing the first move that I wouldn't dare doing." He said looking at her. "I'm not very good with words and it's even worse when it comes to feelings so umm… Suzie I… I…" he paused and sighed "I like you, but you must know I'm not an easy man to be with."

She leaned her hand on his and he gripped the wheel tighter.

"One thing at a time, Dean. I'm not asking for you to marry me, I'm just asking for you to come with me at a concert to know you better. We'll see how it goes."

"I just don't want you to have too much hope. I like you a lot but…"

"But what, Dean?"

"I don't know if I can give you what you want."

"I'm not asking anything from you yet, let's take time, and if nothing has to happen between us at least we can be friends. Is that ok for you?"

He nodded and the tension disappeared.

The rest of the evening was easier: the concert was good even if they were not professional artists, and Dean even sang along a few tracks. He explained the origin of Blues music to Suzanne who listened to him talking about his passion. It was definitely a huge part of his life. Music saved him, and his face was showing it tonight.

When the show was over, Dean asked Suzanne if she wanted to go to eat something and she accepted with a bit too much enthusiasm which made her blush once more. He couldn't help but find her cute. She was down-to-earth, pure and had beautiful eyes.

Suddenly Nina's face came in his mind… he was surprised and wondered why but it was obvious she was the one who taught him to love. They had long discussion after angry sex… they revealed each other, they talked about everything… and Dean realized he missed her at that moment.

He was lost. Nina… Suzie?

Suzie noticed something was wrong when she saw Dean's expression changing.

"Dean?"

He jumped. "Sorry…" he whispered. "I was thinking about someone…"

"Castiel?" she asked.

"No."

They found a small Italian restaurant across the main street, with typical red and white round tables.

Dean was quiet again and Suzanne looked at him eating his lasagna wondering who he thought about earlier. His attitude changed after that.

She took a bit of her tomato/mozzarella salad.

"Who is your mind with, Dean?"

He looked up at her, surprised by her question.

"Be honest with me, please." She pleaded.

"A woman…" he answered hesitantly putting his fork down.

"I uhhh… ummm… I … frequent prostitutes…Suzie… you have to know. Well I did a lot… before."

She let him talk, pushing her plate away.

"I never knew how to love a woman. I'd rather pay a prostitute than hurt a woman, it's easier. I had nothing to offer."

"What changed?"

He gave her a questioning look.

"You're using past tense…" she said leaning her chin on her hand.

"I met a prostitute… well actually I can't even call her that way even if I'm still paying for her." He confessed sadly. "She taught me how to love and how to respect a woman. She listened to me."

"What's her name?" she asked feeling a lump in her throat.

"Nina… I don't even know if it's her real name." he said sarcastically taking his fork back. "I don't know why I'm talking about her to you, it's rude. Let's talk about you instead."

"Dean…" she leaned her hand on his, seeing he was twisting his fingers nervously. "You should ask her real name."

"Suzie…"

"Before planning something with me, you should see what you want from her, Dean."

"There's no future with her, she likes her job and her life."

"She told you?"

"Yes." He said with his mouth full. "I can't say I love her. I'm attached to her and I like what she represents to me."

"I understand… but I wonder how much you like her." She smiled sadly.

"I don't know, Suzie. I've never loved someone. I mean…"

"I know what you mean." She assured him.

"I feel something for you… and I feel something for her. I'm just lost. It was easier when I couldn't feel anything."

"You've changed a lot these last months. So many things happened in your life, it's normal you're lost, you're learning how to live your new life."

"No Suzie… I just learn how to live." He met her eyes.

Right now he just wanted to kiss her, to taste her lips, but he did nothing. She smiled, she understood, and her heart broke a little.

"Can we go for a walk?" she suggested. "It's not too cold we should take advantage of it."

"Good idea." Dean smiled.

"We'll talk about what you want, or we won't talk. You chose."

"Thanks." He replied calling the waiter.

They walked along the river for a while without talking too much, but they were fine with it. Not knowing exactly how they ended up there tonight, Dean leaned his arm around Suzie's shoulder, and she leaned hers around Dean's waist.

He drove her back to her place later, she wasn't living in St Gerry. She smiled at him when they were in front of her door and when he leaned towards her she put a finger on his lips, and then slid her hand to cup his cheek.

"I had a great night, thank you."

"Thank you, Suzie."

"See you tomorrow?"

"Sure."

She took her hand off his cheek and brushed his lips with her finger before coming in. Dean touched his lips confused. He would've loved kissing her and he realized he hadn't thought about Nina since their conversation in the restaurant. He only thought about how right it felt to be with Suzanne and it was really new to him. It was exciting and scary at the same time.

For the first time in his life, he thought maybe he might be falling for someone.

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Nina opened her eyes and saw the lover of the night, a man in his forties, one of her oldest clients. She caressed his cheek and he smiled at her. He had nice green eyes. She made love to him without looking away from them, they looked like Dean's eyes.

It would be so simple in other circumstances, but here it was just an improbable love.

She got up, went to the bathroom, closed the door behind her, sat on the edge of the bathtub and cried. She needed to end this, she would be and forever stay Nina, she would never be Jo the cheeky southern girl again.

She couldn't love him, she just loved what Jo would've loved, but Jo died a long time ago.

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Dean fell asleep listening to Castiel breathing. He woke up after midnight feeling a hand on his shoulder and jumped. He saw Armand in the dark room.

"Damn it, dude! Don't do that! I almost punched you!" he whispered angrily.

"Sorry." Armand said smiling. "It's almost 1 am, Dean. You should go to bed now."

"I can't leave him."

"I won't be far, you need to rest, he will need you tomorrow."

Dean looked at the shadow sleeping in the bed.

"Right…" he stood up frowning, the position he'd slept in wasn't the most comfortable. "You'll call me if something is up right?" he asked Armand.

"Yes, Doctor Winchester." He joked.

Dean laughed quietly "Sorry, man."

He rubbed his sore neck and remembered Armand was part of the medical staff so he shouldn't worry.

"I'm going."

"Goodnight, Dean."

"Thanks."

He couldn't fall asleep… he was staring at the ceiling living the previous therapy session again, Castiel's explosion and his breakout were so sudden and brutal.

He knew that sensation though… he hated himself too. Torturers have the power to make you believe that it's your fault, or that you want it.

Dean survived holding on to Sam and the few people that were lights in the darkness… But how did Cas survive all alone in his attic? He couldn't get it, it was overwhelming to even try to understand.

He curled up in his bed, he was still wearing his clothes, he only took his shoes off.

He closed his eyes and he heard Castiel's scream again.

He woke up in sweat and looked at his alarm clock… 5.30 am.

He really fell asleep.

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

He took a quick shower, ate his breakfast in a rush and started his shift early.

He talked a bit with Sylvana that day. She was a young woman in her twenties who had no visits. She drowned her little sister… to save her. Sylvana was a victim of collective rapes for 10 years, they took place even in her family. She saved Lucy after her uncle raped her for the first time too, she was only 2 years old.

They found her in the morning, the small dead body of her sister in her arms. Sylvana was 16 when it happened, and she died with her sister that day.

Dean liked her since the first time he met her. She was blank-staring most of the time but he could read the distress in her eyes anyway. She wasn't talking and people had to guide her to move. She had long blond hair and she often caressed them distractively.

Dean was surprised to see alcohol and human cruelty made more victims than madness. This place was full of Sams, but he learnt how to see things from a new perspective and was searching only for good memories.

Sylvana had nobody, she hold on to her sister like Dean did with Sam, and they tried to save their loved ones from the indifference of the world… without success. But death was a solution among others. Who could judge them? When you don't live hell you can't understand what it's like, you can't understand that need to become the demon that hides inside you, and the need to run from it even if it's through death.

Dean thought about Castiel and the only solutions he found: the skylight and the birds. He killed a part of himself to be safe and all they were doing now was to wake that part up like you would open a coffin. Dean felt nervous thinking about it.

He went to Leyla before going to Castiel again, and he talked to her about his fear and his doubts.

"Maybe we should wait, he's still in shock and it's going too fast for him."

"Dean, we need to take advantage of his reactions, he has to talk, we can't take the risk to lose him again."

"We will kill him." Dean sighed and stopped in front of room 14.

"If he doesn't come to us, we won't force him to. He knows how to act to communicate with us now, let him do as he wants."

Dean nodded and secretly wished Castiel wouldn't move from his window today.

When they entered the room he was sitting on his bed, turning his back to them because he was looking outside, sinking his eyes in the cloudless sky. It looked like he was waiting for them. Leyla saw Dean's shoulder crashing again.

"Hello, Castiel." She greeted before putting the dolls box on a chair.

Dean stepped closer and sat next to him.

"Hi, Cas."

He was sitting so straight he looked like he'd been petrified.

"You wanna talk today? Just like we did yesterday…" Leyla proposed and Dean looked away.

He saw Castiel looking down and noticed he was twisting his fingers nervously.

"You don't have to if you don't want to. Do you understand?"

Leyla finished placing the dolls on the table and felt his look on her. She turned around and met his eyes, his face half hidden by Dean. She smiled at him and put the box back on the floor, then she sat and waited.

Dean felt very uncomfortable. He was leaning his elbows on his knees, he couldn't pronounce a word. He wouldn't move today, no question. Castiel's scream was still resonating in his mind, his pain piercing his ear.

After a while Castiel stood up and Dean sighed deeply, he was almost disappointed. Leyla straightened on her chair.

Castiel stood still in front of the table for a moment, observing the dolls without paying much attention. Dean turned around to look what he would do. Castiel extended his arm and leaned his hand over a male doll, but he refused to go further and finally took the same female doll than the day before. He observed it intensely like he was searching for any resemblance between the doll and her, but he couldn't find it: the doll's eyes were lifeless, but her eyes were always full of frustrated anger. He always felt he was the source of all her frustrations when she was looking at him, and it was upsetting her even more.

The days without lifted hands and bad words were very rare. She never looked at him with compassion… or maybe she did but he couldn't or wouldn't want to remember. It was useless to remember that anyway, his body was the proof of her hate. He didn't deserve any attention from her.

He gripped the female doll tight and picked the boy up too. He also looked at it a long time. His body was perfect, his eyes were empty and lifeless and he had colorful clothes.

Castiel put the female doll down and undressed the boy doll clumsily. Once again he tried to search for something but couldn't find it, his look was lost in the naked doll.

He put the boy down too and started lifting his shirt slowly. Dean stood up and stepped closer but Leyla lifted her hand to stop him.

Castiel remembered the heat of the whip and touched the scar on his right hip. That day he curled up and she hit over and over again at the same spot which made his flesh rip and blood splashed on her face. She wiped her face out of breath, and hit the whip on her leg messing up her dress. She then left leaving him panting on the floor with his deep and bloody wound.

He was caressing his scar remembering the pain and he frowned.

He turned his head, trying to look at his back. He knew each of his pain graved in his body, and could still taste blood in his mouth. He took his shirt off making weird noises.

Dean looked at him desperate but Leyla was still ordering for him to not move.

Castiel gripped his shirt tight in his hands and twisted it like he wanted to make him disappear between his hands.

Dean was staring at Castiel's back and stepped back… it was full of deep scars, like he'd been whipped a thousand times. When he looked at Leyla who was in front of Castiel, he figured it was be the same on his chest.

Castiel threw his shirt away and took the boy doll back. And here it happened again… in a movement of intense rage he crashed the boy against the female doll and didn't stop hitting them together so hard that one of the doll's head broke and flew across the room. He couldn't stop hitting again and again.

Dean wanted to run toward him but Leyla gave him a look that stopped him. He was raging inside… he wanted to run to him and lift his own shirt to show him his own scars. He wanted to hug him so bad, but he wondered who he wanted to comfort at that moment… Castiel or himself? Probably both. He just wanted to mix their pains.

Castiel was still hitting the dolls together and soon all that was left in his hands was the leg of the female doll and the armless boy. He was about to collapse as exhausted as he was, but his look fell on the table. He released the dolls (or what was left of them) from his hands and stepped forward, eyes locked on the male doll and he stepped back, his face growing pale.

Dean felt he was closing himself again. He was standing here, staring at that doll, shirtless, carrying the weight of his scars, shivering from cold and rage. Dean bent to pick his shirt up and stepped toward Castiel who was breathing heavily, and he was in sweat. He wanted to cry but held his tears back.

"Cas?" he called softly.

"Cas… look at me."

Castiel turned towards him.

"Come on" Dean said pointing at the bed.

Castiel sat down and didn't move. Dean showed the shirt and smiled to let Castiel know he didn't want to harm. He put his shirt back on and Castiel had no reaction, he was gone. Dean crouched down in front of him.

"Cas… look…" Dean said touching Castiel's knee to catch his attention, and he finally looked at him.

Dean lifted his own shirt to his shoulders, revealing the huge scar left after his father threw him on the glass closet. Castiel tilted his head and after a moment of hesitation, he extended his arm and touched the deep scar from his fingertips, and then he sank his eyes in Dean's look… he wasn't alone… they were sharing the same scars… they were carrying the same weight…

He leaned his hand back on his knee and Dean lowered his shirt back. He smiled at him… everything was said.

He sat with Castiel on the bed while Leyla picked the pieces of broken dolls. He was a bit sad… he knew it, but knowing is different from seeing. Not him… not Cas!

Leyla left the room but Dean stayed with Castiel, they stayed here quiet. He was already nervous about the next session… the one where he would try to put real words on his anger.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges, and Monday would be the point of no return.

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

He remembered Suzanne's proposition and hesitated a long time… it would be a huge step toward the unknown for him.

He looked in the mirror and lifted his shirt… it was time to heal.

There are wounds that never disappear but leave a mark on the flesh forever, but to avoid them to destroy even your soul, you need to put the bandage off to let them heal.

The waking pain hurts but it makes us human beings.

Suzanne and her soft voice… her deep look… maybe she was the chance to take to heal and go forward.

End of chapter XIX