Destined

Chapter 10

  A lot of people visited me over the next few days, offering their condolences and trying to sympathize with me. I didn't respond to them very much. When people are trying to comfort you they don't often need a second half to their conversation. All the same, I hated their visits. Most of them didn't even know me or my mother, and yet they feel they should come and pay their respects to her through me. I felt more and more relief as the people stopped knocking on my door, and more relief still when each time I opened the door, Dean wasn't standing there. I didn't know where he was, and I didn't care. I had no clue what he would say to me when he did see me, but I didn't want to find out. I didn't know why, but... I didn't want him to see me like this. I stayed in my room most of the time, only leaving to talk to Hannah. 

  "Castiel, I... I'm worried about you. You don't talk to anyone, you don't... you don't leave your room, I know you're mourning, I know how hard this is, it's hard for me too, but... You can't shut yourself off," Hannah said one evening as I sat in her room. I'd been there for almost an hour, and we'd been talking about our mother.

  "Hannah, I appreciate your concern, but I can't... I can't just pretend I'm fine. These people don't care about me, they hardly know me. Mother's gone. Father won't even let us return for the funeral. Hannah, I..." I'm falling apart at the seams.  

  "I understand that, of course I understand, but nothing's going to get any better if you just lock yourself away for the rest of your life," Hannah said. I shook my head, my sorrow bubbling up into anger at her words.

  "Nothing's going to get any better no matter what I do. Mother is dead, and while you seem eager to accept that, I can't!" I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. I wanted to apologize, but the damage was done. All compassion left Hannah's face.

  "Get out. Get out of my sight, I don't want to see you again," she said.

  "Hannah-

  "Out!" I rose quickly and hurried out her door, making my way back to my own room. As soon as I got inside I locked the door behind me, sliding my back down the door until I was sitting on the floor. I felt tears rising again, as they so often did these days, and fought them back. Warriors don't cry.

   I don't know how long I sat there, thinking, before there was a knock at my door.

  "Cas? Are you in there?" It was Dean. I didn't answer.

  "Hannah's been crying for half an hour, she says you two fought. Look, I know I have no right to tell you how to grieve, but... You two need each other. She's ready to apologize if you are. I don't want you to be any more miserable than you already are, Cas. Don't cut Hannah out. Not now." I stayed silent. Hannah had Charlie, she had Dean. Everyone was there for her. She was better off without me dragging her down.

***

  Dean didn't come back for a long time after that. He must have gotten the message that I wasn't going to talk. I stopped leaving my room at all, simply sitting in my chair and thinking. I hated thinking, I hated sitting there with nothing but memories of my mother to torture me, but I couldn't face any of those people. I couldn't. I sent most of my meals back uneaten, I was never  hungry. I just wanted my mother back, but I knew that could never happen. So there I stayed, unable to sleep, unwilling to be awake, trapped in a web of my own grief. I don't know how long I stayed that way. All the days blurred together, and I didn't care to try and keep track.

  Then one night there was a knock at my door. I was sitting in front of my fire and didn't move, hoping whoever it was would go away.

  "Cas? I know you're in there." It was Dean, of course. He didn't seem to know how to leave well enough alone. When I still didn't answer him, Dean opened my door.

  "Cas, I have to talk to you," he said. I didn't look up. Dean walked over and pulled up a chair next to me, sitting in it. I glanced slightly in his direction, not looking at his face.

  "Please go away," I said softly. I didn't want to hear anything he had to say, it would only make me feel worse. Why couldn't he just leave me alone? That was all I wanted, to be left alone.

  "You can't stay here forever, Cas. I know it hurts, but you need to see your sister. She's worried about you. You aren't eating, you look like you haven't slept." I didn't answer. I hadn't slept much, he was right about that. But what did it matter? I wasn't needed here. No one would want me around in my current state of mind.

  Dean watched me in silence for a minute or two before speaking again.

  "When my mom died, no one thought I knew what had happened. I was only four, but... I knew. My father never sugar coated anything, so I already knew a lot a kid shouldn't know. But that wasn't... I was the one that found her. I was going to ask her to play with me, and I got there and... The killer, he didn't stab her or slit her throat or even poison her. He... tied her to the canopy of her bed and... set her on fire."

  My head jerked up sharply, looking at Dean in horror. Who would do such a thing?

  "Dean, I... I'm so sorry," I said. "I can't imagine how horrible that must have been." Dean looked at me.

  "What was your mother like?" I asked. Dean loved his mother, I could tell, and... I couldn't tell you why, but that made me want to know more about her.

  "I'll tell you about my mother only if you tell me about yours," Dean said. I blinked. He wanted to know about my mother? No one had asked me about my mother before.

  "Okay," I agreed. Dean smiled almost triumphantly. I wrinkled my brow.

  "Why are you smiling like that?" I asked. Dean leaned back in his chair. 

  "You're talking," he said.