Without You I'm Hopeless (Destiel)

Unhealthy coping mechanisms the winchester way - Beer and self-isolation

* * *

It's late well into the morning before Dean finds the energy to leave the bed and it's only because his lack of appetite is starting to cause his stomach to make interesting gurgle noises. Dean had only woken himself up shaking feeling like he was going to throw up three times in the night which he was counting as a success because it was the first night he'd managed to fall back asleep after waking up.

He saw Sam in the hallway and he thankfully didn't say anything about finding him walking out of Cas's room, instead nodding to him and telling him that he made eggs that were still in the kitchen if he wanted some.

* * *

Checking both directions of the hallway Dean sighed and headed towards the bunker's kitchen. Sam's been trying to talk to Dean. However, he hasn't been successful. Dean always sees him and flees back to his or rather Cas's room before he can stop him. He's tried talking to Dean through the lock door on multiple occasions and all it ever earns him is blared rock music. Realistically Dean knows that he can't hide from Sam forever, or from his feelings or the reality of cas' ... of what happened to Cas, that Cas is gone, really gone this time.

Sam finally catches up to Dean on one of his rare excursions to the kitchen.

"Dean," Sam says quietly as if speaking to a particularly startled deer.

Dean knows that tone, and simply grunts in reply. It's the tone of voice he uses when he wants to talk even when he knows Dean doesn't want to. 

"How are you feeling?"

Dean almost laughs around the last few bites of his sandwich, "how do you think?"

"Dean", Sam's shoulders shrug and he takes several small steps closer to where Dean's sitting elbows resting on the table. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"When have you ever known me to want to talk?"

Sam breaths deeply as if holding himself back. "Okay. Maybe you don't want to but I think it would be good for you to talk about what's happening, about how you're feeling. Cas was my friend too."

Dean snorts. Was. Sam's already using the past tense and he thinks he can understand how Dean feels.

"Yeah well just because you and Cas were friends or whatever doesn't mean you know a damn thing about what I'm feeling or what's best for me. Okay? So quit asking."

"Dean."

"Sam."

"Dean! You're being ridiculous. I know this is hard for you. And I know that this is probably harder for you than it is for me, but that doesn't mean I'm not also struggling. Cas was important to me too. But keeping all your feelings in and pretending there not there is stupid. When has that ever worked for you Dean? I'm just trying to help okay? I just want you to talk to me."

Dean stares at the grooves in the table, "what makes you think that I want your help?"

"Dean, we both know this isn't healthy for you. Why don't you try talking about it just to see if it helps.  If you say it doesn't I'll leave you alone. I just want you to try."

Dean stands priding himself on managing to maintain control, as he stands and slowly walks to the doorway, cause all he wants to do is start swinging at what's closest. "Leave it alone, Sammy"

* * *

Dean hasn't been back in his room except to shower and change clothes in two days, instead choosing to spend time in Cas's.

It's only when he gives up and opens one of the doors in the dresser to put away a couple days of clothes that he notices a box in the corner of the dresser with Cas's only possessions. He smiles for the first time in days, and he said he didn't have any possessions.

Carefully he pulled out the box not wanting to harm anything Cas's found important. Inside he found the mixtape he'd given him, Dean's old AC/DC shirt he'd given him after he fell, a bee keychain that Sam bought him (Dean thought the idea of having a keychain without a key was ridiculous but Cas had of course loved the gift) and a collection of photos, several Dean weren't even aware existed. In one Cas, Sam and Dean were laughing in front of the impala. There was one Cas had clearly amaturely taken of Sam that was fuzzy on the edges. Another two he must have secretly taken of Dean, one was of his profile while he was driving and another of him standing in the kitchen laughing, he wasn't even aware that Cas owned a camera. At the very bottom of the box was another photo this one was framed. It was a photo that Sam insisted they took claiming that there wasn't enough of them, Dean was annoyed at the time though extremely grateful now, because even if he didn't put it on display Cas had a framed photo of Dean with his arm wrapped around Cas, Dean was laughing at whatever Cas had said he couldn't remember now and Cas normally tentative and shy was smiling, a rare and beautiful sight.

Dean whispers a quiet almost inaudible prayer. The praying started ever since, god he still couldn't bring himself to think it let alone say it like Sam wanted him to.

"Cas", Dean drops his head into his hands, "God this feels so stupid. Praying to you when I know you're not here, that you can't hear me and that I won't get a response, but I guess what I'm trying to say is I miss you. Okay?" Dean grabbed the edge of the dresser, struggling to stand on his own. 

"I miss you. It's not the same without you here. It's hard. So much harder than any of the other times even. I feel so alone, which is dumb I have Sam and Jack. You were right about him you know." Dean released his hold on the dresser and allowed himself to collapse onto the bed. "He's just a nice innocent child, a grown-adult yet also somehow a baby child, I don't I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. And I'm rambling to myself in an empty room, it's not even mine I'm rambling about nothing scared of what I might say in someone else's room. God my life is pathetic." Dean stared at the wall as he struggled to breath around the words lodged in his throat.

"Sam wants me to talk about what happened about you and how ..., you know. It's been days and I still can't bring myself to say it it's stupid really I'm gonna have to say it eventually. I need to stop obsessing to move forward. I can't afford to let my guard down, to get distracted. So here I go, Cas is dead for real this time."

"you're dead and you're not coming back, Dammit." Dean looked up screaming as if he could reach up to heaven and drag Cas back if only he was loud enough.

Dean smashes his clenched fist over and over into his thigh trying to stop the tears, rocking himself back and forth. Cas is dead and he isn't coming back and there's nothing I can do to change that I'm going to have to learn to live with that, or at least pretend for Sam until I can. Dean whipped the few stray tears from his cheeks and climbed his way up the bed and under the covers. It would be several hours and not until the sun was starting to rise until Dean's eyes drifted close from exhaustion.