Disclaimer: I don't own SPN.

Happy birthday, Richard Speight Jr.! We hope you come back in S11!

Dean's views in this chapter are not mine. But I've been a bit down for the past few days (hence Low, this prompt and my oneshot, Demons) and writing is my outlet, so I'm bound by my emotions. I very much take Jared's views on depression but Dean's different to me.

I wouldn't say that I'm depressed either but the ending to this is very similar to a talk I had today with one of my best friends, who helped me lift a huge weight off my shoulders that I hadn't even realised I'd had until I told her. It's thanks to her that I was able to smile today, so I'd just like to say a massive thank you to masterjediratgrl31, who helped me realise that even people like me can have low days. I never thought myself capable of being this down before now, so this chapter is dedicated to her.

Thanks to RangerHorseTug, masterjediratgrl31, Treblemkr and Bipi for your reviews :)

67. Depression

Dean wouldn't necessarily call himself depressed. To him, that implied weakness and weakness was not something that he would ever admit to. If there was one thing that John Winchester had drilled into him, it was that showing weakness was one of the worst things somebody could do, because that left an opening for monsters to jump in and take advantage of them. But he wasn't a happy, bubbly package of sunshine and rainbows either.

The dark thoughts that often struck Dean were bearable during the day, replaced by a vast emptiness inside him that could only be alleviated by the presence of Sam, Cas, Charlie and even Rose. By surrounding himself with his family, it was slightly easier for Dean to cope.

But at night, when he was all alone in his head, the darkness struck. Dean was more often than not plagued by nightmares of all the people he'd let down and every single thing he'd ever done wrong. The worst of these was when Sam and Cas would appear, blaming him for all the times he'd messed up and screwed them over. Their words hurt even more because they were true; Sam wasn't lying when he accused Dean of being responsible for Kevin's death, nor was Cas being dishonest when he blamed Dean for abandoning him at the mental hospital where a demon had taken better care of him than Dean had, and then later for abandoning him on the streets after he'd been killed by April.

With each passing day, Dean just grew more and more numb. How could he not? It was easier than dealing with the pain of all the things he'd fucked up because he was just that much of a failure. Sam didn't notice – Dean was very good at hiding this – but if there was one person who could always see through him, it was Cas.

"What's wrong, Dean?" Cas asked one night while Dean was straddling him and sucking on his throat.

"Nothing." Dean bit gently, ensuring that he would leave a mark. "Why do you ask?"

"Something's wrong, Dean. I've noticed over the past few weeks that you have been more distant with Sam. And you avoid talking to me whenever you can and seduce me when I ask what's wrong. I don't mind having lots of sex with you, Dean, but I do mind when there is something clearly wrong that you are trying to hide."

Dean paused in his activities to sit up and stare at Cas.

"Nothing's wrong, Cas," he said firmly. He tried to return to his previous activity but Cas gently laid a hand on his chest, preventing him from descending.

"I don't believe you, Dean."

"I said nothing's wrong!" Dean slapped Cas' hand away in irritation and pressed forceful, though not painful, kisses to Cas' lips. Cas allowed this for a moment before turning his head away from Dean.

"Stop trying to hide from your problems, Dean," he said. "You are my human. Doesn't that mean that you should not keep secrets from me?"

Dean glowered at his angel. Cas' face softened and he reached up and gently caressed Dean's cheek.

"I love you, Dean," he said softly. "And I care about you deeply. Now tell me, what's wrong? I want to help you."

Dean's resolve lasted for all of a second while staring at Cas. His angel's blue eyes were shining softly, imploring Dean to tell him what was wrong, and Dean sighed and got off Cas. He sat up, staring at Dean intently.

"I dunno, Cas," Dean said. "I don't even know. I just –"

He took a deep breath, trying to figure out just how to tell Cas about everything running through his fucked-up mind.

"I have these really dark thoughts sometimes and I get these nightmares and I can't get rid of them. And during the day…being around you and Sam and the girls helps but a lot of the time I just feel…nothing. I feel nothing, Cas."

Dean looked down.

"But I'm not suicidal," he continued. "I'm really not. You gotta believe me about that. I'm not about to off myself any time soon. The only thing really stopping me from going off the deep end and putting a bullet through my brain is that I can't do that to Sammy. I can't just up and leave my little brother when it's my job to look out for him. And you just know he'd go sucking up to a demon and selling his soul to bring me back 'cause we're unhealthily codependent."

A sympathetic look on his face, Cas took Dean's hands. Dean took a deep, shuddering breath. It really did feel liberating to talk about this and that was the only thing that made him continue.

"And – and you, Cas. I need you, man, and I can't just go and leave you like that. You and Sam and Charlie and even Rosie…you guys are the only reason I stick around."

"Oh, Dean." Cas pulled Dean into a tight hug that Dean eagerly sank into, taking comfort from the warmth of his angel. "I wish that you would have talked to me before. You are severely depressed and you need help, Dean."

"No!" Dean pulled back sharply. "I'm not depressed, Cas! I'm not one of those people who mope around all day and sob about how life is so hard! That's not me!"

"Dean." Cas' voice was gentle but firm. "Not only did you just insult thousands of people, you made a very incorrect generalisation. Depression is not always about being constantly sad. Often it's just emptiness. You have several good days but your bad days are extremely bad. And just because you are depressed does not mean that you are suicidal. Depression can often simply mean apathy and a lack of care about anything."

"Just don't, Cas." Dean dug his fingers into Cas' back. "I'm not depressed, alright? Saying I'm depressed would mean admitting that I'm weak. And that's what the thoughts tell me. Saying I'm depressed…that'd let the thoughts win. I can't show any weakness."

Cas kissed Dean gently on the cheek.

"But to begin to fight those thoughts, you have to acknowledge them," he said. "I want to help, Dean. Let me help you. Please."

Dean could feel his resolve crumbling. But he couldn't admit that he was depressed! That'd mean having to go and see a shrink and being asked all sorts of stupid questions and there was no way in hell he was going to open up to a complete stranger! And with the things he'd seen in his life, how could he just blab to some random, normal person?

"Fine," he mumbled. "But please, Cas. No docs. We do this our way. You and Sam and Charlie and Rosie…you're all I need to get over this. I don't need some random doc diagnosing me and telling me stuff I already know."

"I cannot say that I agree with a lack of professional help," Cas said. "But it is your decision, Dean. If that's what you want then we will deal with this ourselves. You know that Sam and I will always be there to help you and so will Rose and Charlie. We will do this together."

Dean grinned weakly at Cas, feeling as though a huge weight he never knew existed had just been lifted off his shoulders. He knew that he was far from cured and a long away from being better but the talk that Cas had just forced him to have had gone a long way to helping. Maybe, just maybe, he could fight this!

"Thanks, Cas." Dean wrapped Cas in a bone-crushing hug, holding onto his angel like a lifeline. "You're an angel. My angel. I don't care if you don't have your grace anymore. You're more of an angel without your mojo than all of those winged dicks up there put together. I – I love you."

Cas softly stroked Dean's hair, his chin resting on Dean's shoulder.

"I love you too, Dean. And I will always, always help. All you need to do is ask."