Dinner at 3 (Destiel AU)

XI

                Traumatic things happen all the time, to all kinds of people all over the world.  Sometimes it's worse for some people than others, sometimes the pain is greater, but that doesn't mean there isn't pain.  For everyone involved.  For the bystanders, for the loved ones, for the victims, hell even for the people causing the pain.  Yet the world keeps turning, and like rats on a treadmill we're forced to keep living, to keep pushing forward.  Because in the end sympathy is a rarity and you don’t care until you're actually affected.  It's sick and twisted but it’s the way the world has to work.  

And the only way to get off the treadmill is to be flung off.

AKA death. 

I sat in the bathroom for another 15 minutes with Sam before my Ipod started to buzz.  Some one was calling me on my stupid texting app.  It was Dean.  I stood up and walked just out side the stall.  

"Dean,” I said in a hushed voice, and my voice actually quivered.  Was I crying?

"Cas?"  Dean asked hurriedly as if he'd lost something really important like the arc of the covenant or something crazy.

"What?" 

"Have you seen Sam?"  He asked softly.  I almost felt anger in me.

"Yea Dean, I have."  

"Oh."  In that moment I think his whole world shattered.  I knew.  I knew that his Dad was hitting them.  And in that moment I think my whole world shattered too.  Everything connected like seatbelts hooking into place.

"Dean, get here now."  My voice shook, but stayed firm.  I wasn't going to let him get out of this without explaining.   He squeaked out and OK and then I quickly hung up, telling Sam to get on his feet. 

We rushed down the hall ways, past class rooms filled with un-knowing children.  They were learning about math and we were learning about how to stay alive.  My steps clapped down on the schools floor like large thunderclaps and with one large heave I pushed through the school doors.  

Dean's car sat already parked by the stadium waiting for us.  He sat down on the hood of the car, looking at the pavement like a child waiting to be scolded.  He looked up from the concrete and ran to his little brother, grasping Sam's face with his rough hands.  New tears started to form in Sam's eyes and flow down his face.  

"Sam, you idiot, you had me worried sick."  He said sternly in a hushed voice.    He then let his hands drop to his sides and he looked at me. 

"Dean,” I almost growled, my hands clenched to my sides.  But I wasn't angry at him.  

"Cas I-” Before he could finish I was pulling him into a hug. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"  My question was muffled into his coat but I could tell he could hear me.   He stayed silent.  It was OK though.  I wasn't going to make him talk.  "Dean, we need to do something about this.  You can't..."  I hadn't realized till now but there were tears in my eyes too.  I was crying, and I wasn't sure why.  Maybe I was worried.  Worried about losing my best friends.    I wasn't sure what to do next, usually when I'm stressed I run, but I couldn't do that.  Not this time.  I tried to think about what I'd want me to say if I was in their situation, but I'd never gone through it, so I was useless.  "Dean, I love you."  I said taking a step back.  "But, I don't want you to get hurt.  I couldn't... I can't stand to see you or Sam in pain, OK?"  He looked down at me, an expression with anger and sadness.

"It was a one time thing Cas, my Dad- He- He didn't mean it."  Dean shook lightly, his face turning bright red.  I knew this was a lie, and I had to options both would change me forever.  One.) Nod my head ok, and let Dean and Sam- my family- Go back to an abusive home.  Or two.)  Tell Dean that I know it's not true and try to talk things out with him, but risk loosing him.  I bit my lip, thinking. 

"Dean, I care about you... And... And I couldn't stand to see you get hurt and...And... If this ever happens again, I-” I looked away from him, not knowing what to say next. In elementary school, they teach you how to stop drop and roll, they teach you how to call the police or contact the fire department, but never how to tell your boyfriend that he has to get help.  "I want you to tell me OK?"  He nodded quickly, looking back between me and Sam.  I couldn't imagine the pain he was going through, and I didn't want to.

"Now, who wants to go to my house and eat a shit ton of Ben and Jerry's?"

an

ok,

so as you can imagine this chapter was really hard to fucking write, and honestly i procrastinated and tried to steer away from it for a while.  but it's not a topic i could just slap together and carry one with.  any way i promise to try to make everything a bit longer and better on the next few chapters

i love you all

bye

alli