Cuts and Scars

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WARNING!!! CONTAINS SELF-HARM!!
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'Is this normal for a guy?' Dean wonders 'especially a 16 year old one?' Dean isn't goth or emo, or a stereotypical self-harmer. He's just Dean.

Just an average kid who'd get looked over in a crowd, but he's different in a way.

Dean's mother, Mary, died 7 months ago from breast cancer, and ever since Dean has slipped into a deep depression. For help he doesn't go to his father, his little brother, Sam, or even his boyfriend, Cas. Instead he's turned to a source that can't speak. Can't hear. Can't move. Can't even breath, but somehow seems to have all the answers, all the help, Dean wants.

He's turned to a razor.

Dean hates that he does it to himself. He wants to stop, but he can't.

For Dean, it's like all his fears, all his unsaid words, all his tears, all his sadness, they all seem to wash away with the blood. Sadly it only helps for a small time.

He slips it across his wrist every time he's alone, every chance he gets.

Dean really wants to tell Cas about it all, but he's scared of how Cas will react.

Cas is the wind beneath Dean's wings... Well actually he's more like the wind and the wings.

Turns out Dean doesn't have to tell Cas.

Cas knocks on the Winchesters' front door, dropping by to pay Dean a surprise visit. Sam lets him in. Compared to Cas, the twelve year old might as well be a hobbit.

Sam gets excited when he sees that Cas brought his little brother, Gabe, along with him. The younger boys race to the television so Gabe can join Sam in the latest episode of Doctor Who.

Cas strides up the stairs to surprise Dean.

He expects to open the door and see Dean one his bed with earphones in, listening to the AC/DC album he'd bought the other day, but instead, Cas opens the door to find Dean not on the bed, but his shadow coming from the brightly lit bathroom.

Cas walks into the room and shuts the door, it closes silently. Cas walks halfway to the bathroom in about five or six steps, "Dean?" Cas asks a smile plastered on his face as he walks another three steps, he can almost see into the bathroom.

He knows Dean must be shaving or something, because if he's in the bathroom "doing his business" he always closes the door.

"C-CAS! Hold o-on! I'll be out in a sec!" Dean answers, his voice rough, hurried. "Are you okay Dean?" Cas asks quickly, and that's when he sees it.

Dean standing over the sink, bloody blade in one hand, and on the opposite arm, a bloody wrist.

"Dean." Is all Cas can muster at the sight, Dean hears. His head whips to the side, "Cas! I can-" "Dean."

Dean thinks Cas is about to call him a freak and run, but no. Cas slowly walk up to Dean.

"Give me your wrist."

"Cas I-"

"Give me your wrist."

Dean obeys, and holds up his bloody wrist.

Cas grabs a rag and wets it in the sink, "Cas, you don't-" "Shut up." Dean, once again, obeys his boyfriend.

Cas begins to silently dab Dean's wrist with the cold rag, being careful not to rub, or hurt Dean.

It doesn't take long before Dean's wrist is clean of blood, leaving only the scars and cuts. Cas puts the, now red, rag in the sink.

"Cas you didn't have to do that. I'd understand if you didn't want to see me anymore." Dean sighs, looking into Cas's blue ocean-like eyes.

"Dean Winchester. No matter what, I love you. Sam loves you. Your father loves you. Your mother loved you. She still does. You mean the earth and heaven to us all. It gets better, my love."

"I love you, too. Thanks. My angel."

Cas lifts Dean's wrist, while bringing his neck down slightly, so he can kiss one of the scars.

"Don't let go, Dean."

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