I don't know how
Disclaimer: I don’t own supernatural and I had nothing to do with the writing of 300 things by cautionzombies. But I love both to death and I was bored out of my mind, so this was created.
Warning: Angsty, slashy, PG-13 rated AU Fan fiction of a Supernatural AU fan fiction.
A/N: Some may say it’s weird and some may say it’s a long time coming, but here it is at any rate. A fan fiction of a fan fiction. With all the amazing and well thought through literary wonders some fans produce I for one find this a completely natural step. AU’s contain fresh elements and sometimes even original characterizations, and I’m a sick puppy who loves to abuse everything I adore. Well on with the show and sorry I got wordy.
“This was not on the list.” The words come out stupid, desperate and pointless, because he’s trying to make Dean understand how he feels, but no words can truly describe the gut ripping pain and confusion Castiel feels at this moment. There is no way to explain how scared he feels.
It is ridicules, really, how one man can make his whole world crumble within seconds.
Dean had torn down every wall Castiel had built so neatly around himself, to protect himself from parents, who were too busy to love what they had created. Dean had found his way in under Castiel’s skin, so easy and effortlessly. And Castiel had been so happy to let it get to this point, to this level of intimacy, just to have Dean now break down everything inside Castiel with just those few words.
Castiel finds himself breaking, crashing with unnatural speed, right there in the kitchen, their kitchen, their safe place, their holy ground, and Dean had defiled it by saying those words. Castiel feels everything go fuzzy, unclear and then shattering into pieces. He has no control and he is falling apart so fast, until at last some little piece of survival instinct kicks in with a blissful force and he manages to pull together, manages to stop the bleeding from his heart, even for just a few seconds.
There are other things, familiar things and concepts, thank God, that Castiel can cling to at this moment, routines and chores. Work and Sam, anything that isn’t Dean, even if everything in his life revolves a little around Dean at this point, but he can see past that, he has to tell himself he can, even if it is a lie.
So as he walks out of the kitchen, living Dean behind, he hold on to those things for dear life, clinging, struggling not to drown. It is a short life line, short and so fragile, but it lasts just long enough, just long enough to get him to his office. And then the tears come. And the impact of the words, those horrible words, are crashing over him like a tidal wave, forcing him under one more time, forcing him to break, and this time he can’t stop it, and for hours he lets his heart just bleed.
He crumbles against the wall, sliding into a small sphere on the floor, as he feel the pain turn physical, a wrecking agony tearing at his insides, stabbing at his shredded heart. At that moment, as horrible as they were, he wishes he could hold on to Dean’s words, words that was spoken so softly and carefully, but still sounded like words of doom to Castiel. But he can’t replay Dean’s words right now, tries, but fails to hold on to that possible source of a slow rising anger, because Castiel is already drowning; memories, endearments, touches, kisses, crashing over him and holding him under.
He doesn’t know when the darkness comes, how many times he replays every single second of his time with Dean. When he wakes up again, the pain is still there, but dulled somehow, and for some odd reason the world has turned a little and outside there is no signs of the destruction Castiel feels inside.
When he finally manages to get up off the floor and walk, zombie-like, to his bed, it is because Castiel has started to reason with himself, or rather lie to himself. He isn’t an inexperienced teen, and Castiel has been in love before and had his heart broken before, by lovers and friends and his own family. And he tells himself that he can handle this too, that it is a dent, a slap in the face, and no more, but even as he lies to himself he knows that no one has ever gotten under his skin like Dean has, no one has ever put him to the wall like Dean, and no one, no one, has ever god-damn hurt him like Dean has. Because Dean had made Castiel want to be a better person, a better human being. Dean had awoken some protective instinct in Castiel, pushed him to give the best he knew how to, and then some. And without Dean, Castiel doesn’t know how to be that person.
Castiel doesn’t lie. He has never needed to. He can get what he wants by skills or persuasion or even a few times, just by saying his name. Castiel simply hasn’t seen a reason to lie, until now. He tells himself, however, that it isn’t a sin, as long as he only lies to himself, even if that makes him the king of wishful thinking.
It is Michael who texts him with the news of their mother’s death. Their father is too busy, like the god damn story of Castiel’s life. Their father is grieving, no doubt, and finds no comfort in the company of his children. Well, they are nearly strangers to each other anyway. Castiel almost feels like intruding on his father’s grief, when they come by before the ceremony.
Lucifer and Michael are the spitting images of stoic peace, and Gabriel, with his stone face, the one he uses only when dealing with their father or when he is generally pissed, but doesn’t want to show it, is shying away from everything that might shake him out of his forced calm, including his emotional little brother. The only one who reaches out and holds his hand is Anna, her brown eyes are like their mother’s, but she looks at him with a comfort and an affection that Castiel can’t remember ever seeing in his mother’s eyes.
He checks his messages daily, avoiding those from Dean with the idle though that he doesn’t need to torture himself on top of everything. He reads the concerned words from Sam, however, and feels tears prickling in his eyes, but somehow they feel welcome. Sam is so genuine and caring and when Castiel thinks of the fact that he might now also lose Sam, he is close to tears again. But it is another pain, a pain disconnected from the all-consuming nightmare of losing Dean, and different from the confusing and guilty pain he feels over losing his mother. So Castiel welcomes Sam’s messages, and clings to the words like a life raft.
The ceremony is grand, but Castiel hadn’t expected anything less. He knows that his mother deserves to be honored for her many achievements; even if she hadn’t been the mother Castiel had so desperate needed, she had been a magnificent woman all the same. And in all honesty, his mother had never denied him anything. She had just expected Castiel to be as strong as his brothers and had missed the fact that her youngest son needed her. Even with all his love, which he had thrown at his mother as soon as he got the chance, he had never managed to get that love returned. So instead he had thrown his love on others, sometimes for no reason at all, just to get the reaction he so desperately craved from his mother - to be loved in return.
But he doesn’t love Dean for no reason. Dean had made him feel like a better person, and Castiel, due to his emotional handicap, had managed to chase Dean away with an excess of love and demands.
He has no idea how he would have made it through the funeral without Anna at his side, holding his hand, pretending alongside with him that they were grown-ups on the inside too. And he pretends that he is crying for his mother, pretends that the pain he feels is connected to his mother. Castiel is already becoming so good at pretending.
As the dutiful son, Castiel stays for the reception and accepts the many condolences. It is numbing, but not nearly enough, to hear strangers say kind words about a mother he had barely known, and for a few hours he manages to hold everything together. Until in the end he can’t. Until in the end he has nothing left. He doesn’t stay the night like his siblings, but takes the first flight out, feeling his whole world crumble again with every mile he gets closer to Dean, but completely unable to stay away any longer.