The Police Officer and The Addict // destiel AU

Chapter Three.

I wake up, probably hours later, still wrapped in Cas' arms tightly. "I'm glad you're awake. How are you feeling?" Cas asks, arms still wrapped around me.

I sit up, feeling awkward that I'm literally laying on a cop with him cuddling me because I was sad while high. "I'm fine." I mutter, pushing myself away from Cas' embrace and falling to the other side of the couch, my arms feeling too heavy to readjust.

"Are you hungry?" Cas asks and my arms feel like they can move now, but my legs are struggling still.

"Yes." I say, trying to stand up with Cas. My legs wobble and I hold onto the couch for support. It's been a long time since I've had this small amount of dr-gs in my system and I can tell. I take a deep breath and ignore the nagging that I have to find more drugs.

"What do you want? We have breakfast stuff, sandwiches, I can order something..." Cas says, pulling his wallet and phone out of his pocket and searching for money that was in there. "What the hell?" He mutters, feeling around all his other pockets.

"I'm sorry. I took it. I didn't want to, I just felt like I needed something..." I say, awkwardly looking at the floor. "I get it if you want me to leave." I said, not meeting his eyes that were obviously staring at me.

"Dean, it's fine. I don't want you to leave, okay? I just want to help you get better." Cas says, making me feel like I'm helpless.

"Okay. Anything's fine, thank you." I say timidly, I really want some breakfast food, but I don't object when Cas puts two pieces of bread in the toaster, making a really appealing sandwich. "Hey, don't you have work?" I ask, realizing that since it's light outside, I'm assuming it's a workday.

"No, it's Saturday, plus I only work nights." Cas says, sitting down at the table and pushing his adorable glasses up his nose. I stare at him, obviously thinking about how cute he looks right now, but not saying anything.

Cas hands me a sandwich and I eat it quickly. I haven't had a good meal in forever, and it was just really good. "Thanks." I mutter, my mouth still full.

"It's no problem." Cas says, eating his sandwich slowly and more civilly.

When I finish my sandwich, I stand up and ask to use the bathroom. I don't actually have to pee, but I feel disgusting, and I haven't been in a house with running water or a bathroom in a while.

Cas points me in the direction, and I find it without difficulty. I walk in and look at myself in the mirror. What have I done to myself? I look awful. I haven't showered in days, possibly weeks, I haven't been inside anywhere other than the police station in a very long time, and most importantly, I haven't seen my appearance in weeks.

I lean down over the sink, turn on the water, and try to scrub away some of the dirt and grime from my face. It's sticking to my now prominent beard –which I never had before I became too addicted to keep myself healthy– and I hate it.

I go back into the kitchen to see Cas washing dishes in the sink and humming to himself. He looks so peaceful; I hate to intrude on his perfectly simple life.

"Hey, if it's not too much trouble, can I grab a quick shower?" I ask even though I don't know what I'm going to wear after or do after, but I'm disgusting.

"Yeah, it's no problem!" Cas says with a little too much excitement for my liking. I nod and he grabs a towel out of the laundry room and hands it to me, watching me as I walk away silently. I know the withdrawal symptoms will start soon, and I am not looking forward to that, but it's better than being too high to remember anything. I mean, hell, I don't even know what month it is.

I wash off my body, making horrified faces at all the shit flowing off of me in the water. It looks so gross; I can't imagine why Cas brought me into his home like this... or hugged me like this.

When I finish up, I dry off with the super soft towel Cas handed me and I wrap it around my waist, looking at myself in the mirror. I find an electric razor under the sink and start to buzz off my beard, keeping in mind the fact that I will look a lot different than I have in a long time.

When my beard's successfully gone, I stare at myself and hate what I see. My face is fine, a little slimmer than I'd prefer, but I haven't eaten in a good while. On the other hand, my body... It was awful. It's like I'm staring at some awkward choir kid in middle school who doesn't do anything other than sit there and sing all the time.

I'm super skinny, my ribs are sticking out like they want to be the first thing anyone sees, my upper legs are okay, not as thick as they used to be, but still skinnier than I'd want. Fuck what have I let myself do to my body?

I walk out of the bathroom after cleaning up all the small hairs in the sink and I see Cas sitting on a chair, reading something with his glasses sitting on his nose. "Uhm... Cas, can I borrow some clothes? I don't really have anything not awfully disgusting." I mutter, embarrassed. Everything about this is embarrassing.

"Oh, of course." Cas says, standing up nervously. "How're you feeling?" he asks, leading me into the bedroom. I see his handcuffs sitting on his dresser and the thought of Cas being a kinky SOB crossed my mind, but I realize he has those because he's a cop.

Still a good image.

"I'm okay for now. Not entirely sober, not entirely high. I know I'm gonna start feeling like shit soon though." I say, dreading the inevitable.

"Yeah, I didn't want to mention it. Do you want to stay in here or go back to the bedroom?" Cas asks and I blush. He is not suggesting having sex. He's suggesting we prepare for my withdrawal.

"I guess the bedroom. Don't want a chance of me running out again." I say, worried. "How bad's this gonna be?" I ask, I don't want this to be awful, but I probably deserve it.

"It'll be a lot." Cas says simply, leading me to the same room I woke up in this morning which happens to be the same room Cas got these spare clothes from.

"Wait, is this your room?" I ask, suddenly not wanting to impose on Cas' life any more than I already am.

"Yes." He says and I pull his arm, trying to leave the room. "No, I want you to be as comfortable as you can during this because it will be insanely difficult." Cas says and I shake my head.

"No, I'm not putting you out of your own room." I say sternly, but Cas turns me around and pushes my shoulders so I'm sitting on the bed. "Cas." I argue, but he's not having it.

"You're going to stay in here until you're sober, then I might let you sleep in the living room, but most likely not." Cas says simply, he's already made up his mind about this. Fuck.

I nod and scoot up the bed to sit at the headboard, feeling a headache coming on again. This is going to be awful.