the butterfly project | destiel

6 | wounds.

dean and castiel both were immensely relieved after they had made up. not only did they finally start working on their project, but the air around them just seemed lighter, as if the world had stopped turning for a while and now it was back at full force. they shared smiles and jokes, and castiel soon realized that he hadn't thought about self harm in a long time. he didn't even really draw butterflies anymore, at least not for that reason. sometimes he just did it because they looked pretty on his pale skin.

dean wasn't doing so great at home. john was back, and when john came back things were a lot more uptight than usual. he and sam had to make sure and be in bed at a specific time, dean had to have dinner ready at a specific time, they had to leave for school at a specific time. everything was on a tight-knit schedule that the boys absolutely despised. dean wanted to blame it on john's military experience, but he knew it was more than that and sam did too.

their mother had been missing for more than 5 years now.

dean vividly remembered the last time he had spoken with her; the last time she had spoken with anyone. he called her because he needed to be picked up from wrestling practice. she had said "okay dee, i'll be there soon." and hung up. and that was the last time anyone had ever heard from her again.

dean felt guilty, of course. he felt like it was all his fault that she had seemingly vanished in thin air. sometimes he held out hope that she might still be alive, but he always made sure to crush that dream before it wandered too far. he knew that if she was abducted, whoever did it would've killed her a long time ago. his stomach wrenched at the thought, he always hated that feeling. that bitter, cold, disgusting feeling he got when he thought about her possible whereabouts. the police had given up long ago, it was actually quite the hassle to get them to start up the search in the first place since she was an adult and all. but she wasn't the running type, everyone who knew her knew that.

dean tried to stop thinking about it as he walked up to the front door, his floppy haired brother in tow. he saw his dad's car in the driveway and immediately knew what they were in for. john never hit them but since mary had disappeared he definitely hadn't been father of the year. he never explicitly told dean it was his fault, but he never assured him that it wasn't either. dean had to learn how to sort out his own feelings, and for the most part he did. he coped with the loss of his mother and took on that maternal role for sam. john however, didn't do well losing his soulmate. he ran from his problems, quite literally. at first he would just stay in his room, dean and sam's only reassurance that he was still alive was the occasional flush of the toilet that they could hear through the walls. those were some of dean's toughest moments, when he needed his father the most, he wasn't there. he had sam though, and sam had him, and he couldn't deny that they were closer than they ever would have been if they had continued their 'normal' lives. after john got back on his feet, he would start leaving for weeks at a time. at first he'd leave notes for the boys saying that he was just going out of town for a while, but soon he stopped writing them and soon dean and sam stopped caring. each time john came home from a trip, he was significantly grumpier than he had been before.

they walked in to find john on the couch watching tv, a beer in hand.

"where've y'all been?" he grumbled, not looking away from the football game on the television.

"school." dean said, as politely as he could muster. john harrumphed a reply and was silent, and dean was grateful. he slid into the kitchen and started cooking, luckily he had the recipe for a macaroni casserole he had been wanting to try out. he got his ingredients together and started cooking, silently praying to whatever force was in control of the universe that john would be in a good mood. sam had already snuck up to his room, knowing well to stay away from john when he was home. just their mere presence seemed to irritate him. after about two hours of slaving other the stove dean finally called his family to supper. he was still taking off his oven mitts when sam ran into the kitchen, took a plate of food, and tried to make his way back to his room.

"hey!" john barked, making dean flinch. a wide eyed sammy whipped his head around from where he stood at the bottom of the stairs. "get back in here, kid. we're eating like a real family." dean didn't like the way he said 'kid' as if he could be referring to anyone. john still acknowledged them as his kids... right?

sam made his way slowly and cautiously back the table. dean sighed and took his plate there as well. he soon realized this was a big mistake.

"don't you huff like that me me, boy." john nearly growled. dean was caught off guard, john had now actually reached the point he was unhappy with the way dean breathed of all things. dean furrowed his brows at the man, getting pretty fed up with how unpredictable he was all the time. all his pent up anger had suddenly started to come out, and before he could stop it he had thrown a plate to the floor with a loud crash, all the while glaring holes into john's eyes. john glared right back though, and stood up from where he sat, leaning his hands on the table to try and intimidate dean and get closer.

"clean that shit up. now, boy." the rude tone of voice only fueled dean's anger.

"and what if i don't?" he spat venomously. sam watched with wide eyes, slowly backing away from where the staring contest was going down.

john suddenly and without warning backed up and slammed his fist on the table. "i am so sick of you two being so goddamn ungrateful all the time!" he shouted, dean was sure the neighbors could hear but he didn't care. john's words filled him with so much disbelief that he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"ungrateful!?" he said incredulously. "we have done nothing but be perfect little children our whole lives, dad! and you have the audacity to call us ungrateful? we tiptoe around you, make sure you always have food on your plate and try not to get in your way, and you're gonna sit there and call us ungrateful?" dean could tell he was only angering john more, so he stopped and waited for a reply. instead he was met with a hard slap across the cheek.

dean held his cheek and slowly turned to face john again. the older man's hand was still in the air where it had been after he struck dean, and his eyes were widened in disbelief. he met dean's eyes and it was immediately clear that the hurt in them wasn't physical. dean's eyes started to water.

"get. the. hell. out." dean said through gritted teeth, he noticed sam had now moved behind him and dean put an arm out protectively. "never come back." dean added. john sputtered.

"don't try to argue." dean hissed. "get out and never come back, or i swear i'll kill you." john saw the truth behind his son's words and was doubtlessly scared. he kept up the facade though, and grabbed his keys and stormed out, the door slam he left echoing throughout their small house.

it took a few minutes for the realization to set in for the boys. to dean it felt like a dream, like he had just imagined all of it and that he would walk the corner to the living room and see john watching the football game again, he would pass a mirror and not see the red mark on his cheek that was there. but that wasn't the case, he soon found out.

sam was the one that brought him back to reality. dean heard his shallow breaths grow more frantic, panicked, and he immediately turned to comfort the oncoming panic attack he had dealt with so many times before with his little brother. he crouched and pulled sam into his arms, the stiff boy softening at the gesture, his breathing starting to slow back to a normal pace. he felt him crumple in his arms and it took all of dean's willpower not to crumple too. he rubbed the back of sam's head, allowing himself to shed a few tears since sam couldn't technically see his face. he talked words of comfort.

"it's okay, sammy. we'll call bobby and everything will be alright. bobby will know what to do. everything will be alright." he repeated that last line more to himself but sam didn't notice, he just sobbed more into his shoulder and dean let him, not daring to let go of his only rock.