Undesired Hell [ Destiel AU ]

Destined heartbreak pt. 2: Someone, that is not me

Castiel was lost in a pit of thoughts he mercilessly tried to outrun, but all it did was feed his torment. The guilt he'd felt all day had been replaced by a rising feeling of sickness in his stomach, while the night freckled in millions of stars portrayed the complete opposite of Castiel's vibe. He swore the universe was mocking him.

"Dean, I need to say something."

Now off, the impala's car engine goes numbly silent as Castiel somehow manages to convert his thoughts into a sentence. Dean, suddenly defensive, feels like he is about to be scolded. Did he do something wrong?

"Okay. Must be important, telling by how nervous you are."

Before the smaller boy can break anything down right there, Dean reaches out, curling his hand around Castiel's shaky fingers. It drives the boy mad, surprised, further in love, but mainly grateful for the contact. He fights the urge to cry, "I want so many things for you in your life, and maybe I got a little carried away—or a lot—but I really think I want someone else to know the warmth of being in love with you."

It was ironic how beautiful the words sounded when they fell from his mouth, but how awful it felt when they landed in Dean's guts as shrapnel. Whatever joke this had to be wasn't going to convince him, so he laughed.

His slow laughter was accompanied by tears and whether they were of frustration or disbelief appeared a mystery.

"I think you deserve someone better than me. Someone, that is not me."

The laughter stopped.

Dean's gaze rose slowly when he let the reality of Castiel's confession sink in. He could throw up. A trembling sigh escapes his mouth and after, he drops his head forward, feeling dizzy and weak. Something akin to denial or maybe even jealousy swells in Dean's chest. He laughs, again, but this time the tears falling from his face are from hurt.

"Say something..." Castiel's bottom lip quivers.

A tiny lapse let him pull away, his blinking lashes heavy with tears when the world becomes a blur, "Who is it?"

There's a sudden sense of bitterness in his tone that makes Castiel shy away even further.

"Who's who?"

Dean scoffs, anything to stack on top of the tears welling up in his throat, "There has to be someone else, so...who is it."

It was ridiculous to believe that Dean thought he could be in love with someone else and that bothered him. A lot. Had Castiel been such a terrible companion that his own boyfriend couldn't believe he sincerely loved him? Apparently so.

"Shit, Dean. No one!" Castiel starts, but pauses once again to fight the tears, "Is that what you think of me? That I'm so unfaithful I'd throw away our relationship for another guy."

"I honestly don't know what to think right now. Clearly you've got this all thought out, so what can I say to make you stay?" It's a blunt painful question that Castiel doesn't know how to reply to. His lies were driving this mess.

"I don't...I don't know." Lie. Anything could.

His hands trembled even more, but Dean was no longer touching him and that left a burning hole in his heart. Castiel suddenly couldn't stop staring, those baby blues memorizing every detail of his boyfriend's face.

"I can't understand you and I'm trying really hard to put pieces together for why this is happening—any pieces, but there aren't any. It's cruel and you don't even seem sorry." Dean's disheveled mess of golden hair and perfect skin begins to haunt the other boy. Castiel squares his jaw, "For what? Clearly, you've overestimated my affection for you, and whatever you thought we had."

That lie hurt the most.

"You've got to be kidding me. The only other person who's ever truly hurt me is my dad—he didn't love me. You can say whatever the hell you want, except lie about not loving me, because I know you do and that makes you so much worse than him."

If Castiel's heart hadn't already cracked, it definitely had now. He could feel himself—so desperate, begging to be loved, for what he is and that was not a liar. However he couldn't let that wall crack anymore than it apparently had. He was shocked, sad, and even in denial because what he'd been afraid of was happening anyways. Dean hated him.

"I guess I'm worse then."

Dean froze and it was a bit startling to see. Castiel immediately knew the look; A mixture of pain and anger.
Dean was seconds away from letting himself crumble, he masked his emotions the best he could while the love of his life clawed at his heart and the nerves caused his hands to tremble.

"Get the hell out of my car."

Castiel rapidly pushes open the car door then stumbles out onto stretched pavement with his backpack dragging alongside him. When he kicks the door shut a single cry knocks him into a complete spiraling breakdown. There's a frustrated scream, but way in the distance Dean could barely hear him. Instead, he watched Castiel fall apart from his rear view mirror and held his breath until he could no longer see him.

Minutes later, Castiel was vaguely aware of how much he was crying, so he carried himself up the driveway and inside his warm home. By then his mom had heard him, both the door and his sobbing. It was obvious, the genuine concern from his mother. The sorrow feeling settled around them, but the last thing Castiel wanted to do was talk about it. Even less explain himself.

"Castiel—honey, what's wrong?"

Although his very worried mother deserved an answer, she didn't get one. Castiel ran upstairs without saying a word. Again, his mother called him, then his father.

In that moment he didn't care enough to let them know why he was suffering or that he was sorry for avoiding them, instead Castiel hid in his room. Lucky, Richard and Rebecca knew he just needed some space, so they let him go.

Castiel slunk down against his bedroom wall before his legs could give out while he used a hand to blindly turn on the lights. As the room lit up and his nerves finally began to settle, his eyes fixated on John Winchester and he wanted to scream all over again. How the hell was this man getting into his house?

"About time you got here." John twirled around in a chair, he seemed so comfortable in it that Castiel almost forgot it was his. He stared, "What are you doing here?"

John chuckled, "Why are your eyes so damn red?"

The scruffy man watched the discomfort terrorize Castiel's face when he asked. It was beyond obvious he'd been crying, not to mention he was a mess when he'd entered the room, but John lived to make people uncomfortable.

"I broke up with Dean."

"Good for you! He's a goddamn mess, never been my favorite."

John sighs, silently shaking his head in a disappointed manner. Castiel doesn't flinch, from across the room he bites down on his own tongue and waits for another snide remark.

"Anyways, I need one last thing from you..." he begins.