I'm broken (Destiel)

The plague and poison

It was nothing. It was meaningless. God it didn't even preface everything going on in his head. Not even close. It burned and tore and ripped at everything he ever thought was true. Heaven help him, the grass felt like air and he couldn't avoid feeling like he was falling. It was silent. Yet the noise was tremendous. It had him shivering and unsteady. Reality hit like a cold sweat. It dampened his heart before sitting in his stomach like a stone weight. His blood ran cold and he could barely feel his finger. 

It was all happening to fast and it hurt like hell. No, worse than hell. Hell have a choice. Torture of be tortured. Now, right now? He was a dummy, being beaten with hit after hit. He collapsed. The wet dirt smeared on his knees and he was loosing balance so quickly that he was soon on all fours clawing the wet earth looking for anything- anything at all- to anchor him before the rest of his world collapsed. He main part- the only part that mattered- Castiel, had failed him.

He was stupid. So incredibly stupid to ever think that hope was something that was his. He didn't deserve hope. All he ever was-ever could be- was useless. What was he here to do? Take up space? Even consider that god had a plan for him? No, god might have had a plan for him, but he sure as hell wasnt worthy for it. Who loved him? Certainly not Castiel. He couldn't do anything right. He was a fuck up. He couldn't even do the simplest thing- be happy. Be a normal person with normal emotions. He was fucked up. A mistake. What was he good for? Sure he has friends but he doubts they love him. Care about him. Worry about him. Why would they worry about him? He was nothing. Not a speck to the universe. That's why Cas slept with Sam. That's why his world was ending.

His world. His light and his breathing reason. The smile on his face and the hope in his heart was absolutely gone. No more. No more hugs, snugggles, laughter. Emptiness was all inside him. A million things zoomed through his head. He hasn't even realized it had been less than a mintue. 

Dean moved to sit, arms draped over crossed legs, struggling to breathe. The air was too thin and his lungs were too small. His chest was closing up and he couldn't focus. He tried to relax but it was all too overwhelming. He felt like he was seeing his surroundings through a small window. He was fighting his way back into reality, but it wasn't working. 

Panic. It was a panic attack. Castiel was kneeling beside him, clearly in alert,  tears threatening to spill. He didn't want it. He couldn't stand to see Cas, he couldn't stand to be touched right now. He tried to push away, but Cas didn't get the message. It was too confining. He started to speak, but it came out as a low, tear flooded growl. He could hear Cas saying something, but he couldn't understand it. It was like a foreign language. Finally, he managed to pull himself away. He stood to lean on the impala, heaving heavily. 

The sound of his mother singing hey Jude filled his mind and brought him back to the surface. He wasn't shaking anymore, but the panic was still strong. He couldn't think strait and all he could do was sink to his knees again in a violent sob. It wasn't happening. It couldn't be. It SHOULDNT be.

Unfortunately, those who have the most dangerous plagues tend to forget the cure can sometimes be the poison.