Dean Winchester didn't grow up like most kids should've. He didn't have unconditonal love or stabilty in his life. From a young age he was expected to do more than a child should have to.
His dad liked to drink, a lot- and his mom..well Mary tried but not hard enough. Dean tried to shield his younger brother Sam as much as he could. Whenever John came home angry he would hit.
He would hit Dean.
But never Sammy. Dean wouldn't let him.
His parents were like ghosts in their home. Only putting on faces for show, but behind closed doors it was a living hell.
His only escape was school and work, the few hours of the day he got to avoid punches and the smell of alcohol. He loved school. Well more specifically he loved a boy. A boy who made him forget just how awful and depressing his life was.
Castiel Novak grew up loved, and happy. With parents who cared and siblings who acted like a real family. Dean loved everything about Castiel, his blue eyes like the ocean, how smart he was, his curiousity...
He could never tell Castiel about his own parents. He avoided the topic whenever it was brought up. With either a kiss or a soft 'I don't wanna talk about it Cas.'
Thankfully Castiel let it go.
Years passed, Dean was older, he had a job, he had a car, he had friends, he had a life, he had Castiel.
But he was still his fathers son.
So that meant a beer or three everyday, but he never raised his voice or so much as raised a hand to Castiel- even when they fought which was rare in itself he couldn't bring himself to use fear because deep down he was still that scared little kid.
When they got engaged Castiel asked if Dean was going to invite his parents whom Castiel had never met but Dean instantly shut down the idea. Not only was one of his fathers abuse tactics were to throw slurs at his son assuming his attraction the same sex but he promised himself that man would never touch the one good thing his life.
He would never meet Castiel.
Castiel was starting to notcie that Dean was getting more distant, he came home late, drank more than usual, got angry at the smallest incidents. But luckily it wasn't just him who noticed, Dean's younger brother Sam did as well and it deeply saddened him.
He was acting like their father.
Castiel ever the curious type asked Sam why Dean was the way he was. Closed off and moody. It wasn't as if this was the first instance.
As much as Dean loved Castiel he wasn't always the expressive partner. He found it difficult to say things such as 'I love you.' Or to show affection or talk about his emotions.
And what Castiel didn't know was that when it got too much to handle for his husband Dean would hide away and sob for hours.
But Castiel knew Dean loved him. Even if he had his own way of showing it. Like the one time he was cleaning their room and found a small stash of Deans things under his clothes.
Some were photos Castiel had never seen before, Dean was younger, with his brother and a man he'd met that Dean called Uncle Bobby. Dean looked happy.
He had photos of him and Castiel from over the years, and of a woman he assumed to be Dean's mother.
When Castiel asked Sam why Dean acted the way he did the younger Winchester just shook his head, told Castiel that it was just always how Dean was, they didn't grow up in a household where it was acceptable to show emotions and that Dean had a hard life. He didn't go into detail, telling his brother in law that only Dean could tell him and he owed it to his brother not to betray his trust.
Because Sam was there. Everytime Dean got punched, slapped, kicked, yelled at. He watched in horror, but Dean even bruised would still come to his room every night to read to him. No matter how bad the pain was.
Sam owed his brother everything.
So Castiel didn't pry, he didn't push any further. Until one night, he came home to find Dean in their bed, the room pitch black only illuminated by the lamp that sat on the table by their bedside.
His husband was sat against the headboard, shuffling through the photos Castiel had found hidden years ago, snifling softly as he looked through them.
"Dean?" Castiel spoke softly as not to spook the man. Dean looked up and Castiel already thought he had over stepped and that he should leave Dean to himself, he waited for Dean to ask him to leave, to yell it maybe but when his husband spoke it was a surpised "Cas."
Castiel approched Dean and his husband made no move to stop him. Castiel sat down in front of Dean's pulled up legs and eyed the photo Dean held. It was one Castiel had never seen.
A man, with Dean's eyes and a woman presumably the one from the same photo as before just looking much younger, with more noticable freckles. Just like Deans.
"Who is that?" Castiel prayed Dean wouldn't shut down and avoid the question, silently waiting for his answer.
Dean smiled down at the photo for a brief moment. "My parents.." Dean said, his voice barley above a whisper. "John and Mary."
"You never talk about them."
"I know." Dean hated how his eyes were tearing up. He looked at Castiel, shocking his husband once again by taking his hand, squeezing it he said "My mom would've loved you. She always had a thing for blue eyes."
Castiel's heart almost completely stopped. He didn't want Dean to stop talking. "..Why don't you talk about them?"
Dean looked away, his husband was crying softly, he'd never seen Dean so much as let a tear roll down his face let alone cry freely. "..because I didn't want you to look at me differently.."
Castiel wanted to protest right there that he could never do such a thing but Dean continued. "My father..he hated me. He was a mean, angry drunk. Growing up, I took the brunt of his abuse so my mom and Sammy didn't have to."
"He told me, men don't cry. He taught me to hide my emotions, and that no one could or would ever love me because I was damaged goods." Dean tried to compose himself. "Every time he beat me it was a lesson."
Castiel remembered when they were teenagers Dean would sometimes have bruises on him that he would claim were from him getting involved it petty school fights.
He rememered the first time they made love, when Dean's shirt came off he had a healing red bruise on his stomach but he didn't let it affect him- never once did his physical condition stop him from being there whenever Castiel asked.
Castiel never even once suspected..
"My mom didn't do anything..she couldn't.", "You were my only escape from all of it.."
"Dean..you could've told me."
"No." Dean said firmly, his features serious. "Cas I grew up wondering what I ever did to make my own father hate me so much he had to beat me half to death. That was normal for me."
"I was lucky you even looked in my direction. You deserved better than me so I hid it, I'm my fathers son..his anger, his hate..everyday I'm running from the thought of being anything like him. From ruining everything I touch."
"You could never do that Dean. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me."
Dean shook his head like he didn't believe it, but Castiel caught his gaze again. "I mean it. You deserve everything. And I know for a fact your father was wrong. Because I love you, no matter what. You are nothing like him and showing your emotions- especially to me makes you no less of man."
He wasn't expecting Dean to embrace him tightly in a hug with one of his rare proclamations of 'I love you too Cas'
So maybe Dean Winchester wasn't loved as a child. Maybe he was forced to grow up too soon but he was also determined to make sure that sharing a few features or a last name wouldn't shape the man he was. They were not the same.
And just maybe he deserved to be happy too.
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