the butterfly project | destiel

7 | difference.

bobby's house was much different than theirs, and as they were both working on packing boxes from their rooms, the weight of what was going on really settled on dean. this was a permanent change. they were leaving this house and most likely not coming back.

at first dean didn't understand why he and sam couldn't just stay there. bobby seemed appalled at the idea and said something along the lines of "you're still a kid. you don't need to be worrying about bills and taking care of sam." dean accepted this answer and thought it over for some time.

as he packed up the last of his things he looked over to the worn leather jacket that he laid on the bed. it's crumpled, empty, lifeless form pretty similar to the way he was feeling now. he thought back to when dad had given him that jacket, saying something akin to 'take good care of it boy'. he remembered showing his mom excitedly and he remembered her laugh, clear as day even after all these years. he reminisced back on the times when they were one big, happy family and he missed it. even though it was gone a long time ago, moving out seemed to set it in stone even more. like he was really forcing himself to say goodbye.

and so he did, and he left that jacket right where it laid as he carried out the last box of his things, shutting the door behind him.

~

castiel hadn't seen dean at school the past two days, and it worried him. he knew it was stupid to be worried about a person he didn't really know all too personally but dean had always showed up to school. ever since they met he hasn't been gone a single day.

another strange thing was that he had woken up the previous morning with a pretty nasty bruise on his cheek, and he genuinely had no clue where it could've come from. he woke up in bed, so he scratched falling off the bed off the metaphorical list. no one had hit him, at least not that he knew of. how could someone hit you without you knowing? the bruise didn't even hurt, but the colors were clear as day. charlie noticed when he went to school that day and luckily helped him cover it up with makeup, even gave him some concealer to take home and use. he thanked her gratefully, the last thing he wanted was people asking questions that he didn't know the answer to.

cas felt one of his depressive episodes coming on and he knew charlie could tell. his movements felt slower, sluggish, and he always had a headache. he started losing the motivation to tame his wild hair, and the usual jeans he wore were replaced with sweats. charlie being the loyal friend she was stayed by his side the entire time, but he knew that soon he wouldn't even be able to come out of his room, and not even charlie would be able to help it. they were always well prepared, charlie would get all his work from school and take it to him so he wouldn't fall behind. but it was still hard on the boy, especially since he had no way of predicting when they would come. he hadn't thought of self harm in a long time but now it was pricking the back of his mind like an old friend. he knew what to do though. he always knew what to do.

when dean came back to school he was different. cas couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew there was something. the first thing he noticed is that the leather jacket that he always wore was nowhere to be found. it had been replaced by a simple gray hoodie. also jo was following closely by his side the whole day, making sure he wasn't bothered by anyone.

english class rolled around and the second thing cas noticed was that dean had a big bruise on the same cheek that cas did. dean's hood was pulled over his head making it somewhat hard to see but castiel was almost sure of it. he thought it was strange at best. dean sat at his usual spot in front of cas and the silence that followed was deafening.

"what's wro-" the dark haired boy started to ask, but he was cut off by dean putting his hand up. there was no malice or rudeness behind the gesture, dean just seemed... tired. exhausted. and cas understood that better than anyone. so he pulled out his notebook and started keeping himself busy. he didn't mind taking a break that day if it was for dean's mental health. he decided he'd sketch the other man to try and cheer him up. he pushed his glassed further onto his nose and got to work.

cas leaned back in his hair and pulled the notebook closer to him, making sure dean couldn't see. time ticked by pretty quickly after that, and when the bell rang cas stopped dean before he could leave and showed him the sketch. in it, dean was with lisa as happy as ever. castiel's art style wasn't exactly realistic, it was quite geometrical and had sharp lines and edges. the couple was sitting at a picnic table, both of them wore eye-creasing smiles. lisa had her hands resting on the table and dean had his fist holding up his chin. everything about it seemed so natural and... perfect.

"can i keep it?" dean asked huskily and cas didn't hesitate before ripping it off the spiral and handing it to him. dean gave him a small half-hug and thanked him. it seemed cas's plan of brightening up his day had worked. he hoped that whatever dean was going through worked itself out soon.

he couldn't deny the fact that thinking of dean with lisa sent a pang of jealousy through his chest, but he did his best to ignore it. dean deserved to be happy and he was content with just being friends with him. since they weren't soulmates it was almost ridiculous of him to think there would be anything more between them, so cas decided he deserved whatever the universe threw at him for getting his hopes up like that.

but this conclusion didn't sit quite right with him.