Chapter 30

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"And honey, all the movements you're starting to make,
See me crumble and fall on my face,
And I know the mistakes that I made,
See it all disappear without a trace." -Coldplay, A Rush Of Blood To The Head

~

Dean Winchesters' Point of View

Dean knew he wasn't okay.

Truly, he was astonished that he was more morbid than Lisa, when everyone knew she was a very emotional person, but Lisa Braeden was fine, going each day in a breeze as if she didn't lose a child . There was no disoriented look on her face when Dean visited her, no pain in her doe-like eyes, like the death of Charlotte was of no matter.

Dean  felt himself drain out of contentment.  He had become exhilarated at the thought of a baby-he imagined Cas and himself taking care of her during Lisas' long shifts, he could almost see his Everything holding Charlotte gently, a warm smile on his lips. That was all Dean wanted from his list of things to do before dying, to settle down with a family.

Dean got fired from his lack of timing-Cas was working all day, something late at night, at his job at Target. He would see Castiel, watch his lips purse into disappointment at the sight of his boyfriend still laying in bed, with a bottle of beer in his hand.

Dean tried, to hide feelings for Cas' sake, but, he just couldn't in this category. And his Everything fought up with it, going day after day trying to make things like they used to be.

One night, was when Cas snapped-broke apart even-from blood-curdling frustration and brittle sadness.

Dean fell into a kingdom of his mind: vast and disorganized. It took up a large section of his thoughts, that he always seemed to walk into it, and once he falls into that kingdom...he can't get out- the only way for him to get out is for a bottle of liquor to be in his hand.

And he knew Cas had figured that out.

He knew when Cas was upset, but he never saw him this unsettled.

Dean was tipsy, almost turning into a babbling drunk, but, he still had a hold on his thoughts, most of them.

"Dean," Cas stated, Dean turned his head, looking at a blue-eyed Castiel stare at him in agitation.

"Yeah?"

"Please stop drinking."

"Why?" Dean mustered, moving his bottle back and forth, watching the sinful liquid slosh behind the dark glass.

"Because I said so."

"Okay, are you my dad?" Dean scowled, laughing lightly.

Castiel blanched, a sour expression on his face, but at the moment Dean didn't care about anything.

"Give me the drink."

"Or what?" Dean argued, "You're gonna slap me? Or leave me, like a certain Lucas did to you?"

Castiel lowered his head, and Dean could've sworn he saw tears swarm behind his glasses. But at the moment, Dean couldn't really grasp on his feelings anymore, they swam up to the ceiling of his brain, like balloons, and he can't reach them.

"Please," Castiel whispered, glancing up-his brows knitted together in angst- "Give it to me."

"I don't really feel like it." Dean snickered, pressing the rim to his lips, and that was when Castiel broke. In a flash, he stood up and yanked the drink out of Deans' hand, anger pulsing in his face. He threw the bottle to the floor, glass flew across the pale tile, beer soaking through Deans' socks.

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