The Emporium 08: Go Fix It
08: Go Fix It
Dean shut the shop after the confrontation between Castiel and Amelia. He couldn't handle seeing anyone at that moment. He knew Ellen would probably give him a piece of her mind and dock his wages but at that point he just couldn't bring himself to care. He went back to his apartment. It felt like an age since he'd last been there. He shut the door behind himself and slid down it, pulling his knees up to his chest, numb with shock. He couldn't believe Castiel would do that to him. After all they'd been through and done together, how could he just not tell Dean about a family that was missing their father and husband? Did that make Dean an even worse person for stealing away someone's father? That was just fucked beyond belief.
He didn't know how long he spent just sitting with his back against the door staring into space. His phone rang, jolting him out of his internal misery. Dean didn't bother moving, instead letting the answer phone kick in. It was Sam asking why The Emporium was shut. Dean closed his eyes and tuned out his brother's droning voice.
His phone rang again an indeterminate time later. Castiel's deep tones filtered through the air. He sounded like he'd sobbed his throat raw. His breath hitched like he was fighting back more tears. Dean didn't even bother trying to understand what he was saying. He let the words fill the air around him and ignored them.
A while later, he got a text. After sitting there contemplating for a while longer, Dean reached for his mobile. The text was from Castiel, begging him to get in touch. Dean dropped the phone next to himself. When it began to get dark, the numbness began to fade and give way to a multitude of feelings. Anger fell away into disappointment which turned into betrayal, bone gnawing sadness and loneliness. He crawled into bed and bitterly noted how once again he was all alone. Still, another positive side to loneliness is that no one can hear and judge you for sobbing loudly through out the whole night.
Dean rang in sick the next day. Actually, he texted in then went back to bed dropping his phone on the floor next to where he lay. He still couldn't face the world at large. He couldn't yet force the mask of indifference back on and act like he was fine. Sometimes the cracks in the mask were too large to be just glossed over. He stayed in bed all day. After three in the morning he had no more tears to shed, merely dry sobs as he fought to get a control over is spiralling despair. Dean ignored it when Sam rang again. Ignored it when Castiel rang, leaving another message. Ignored it when his mobile chirped with messages. He lay in bed lost in sorrow. Of all the people he had to open up to, of course it was the wrong person he had picked. Now he remembered why he didn't do long term relationships. Why he was always adamant that he will forever remain a bachelor. If only the reminder wasn't such a slap on the soul.
At some point in the afternoon, he heard the lock in his door click as someone came in. Dean half hoped it was a burglar who'd put him out of his misery. Instead he heard the familiar foot falls of his younger brother as he called for him. He heard the series of message left on his answer phone being played back and the soft curse when Sam heard Cas' messages. Over time they got shorter and more despondent. It moved from a sobbing babble to begging to reasoning to repeated apologising to sighs and wistful half sobs of desire to just wanting to know Dean's all right. These messages were interspersed by calls from Sam, Ellen, Jo and even Ash. That pretty much exhausted Dean's list of people who actually sometimes cared about him. That didn't help to cheer his mood one single bit.
Sam quickly found him in his bed. After checking that Dean was still breathing, he set about putting things away and making some soup. He didn't say anything to Dean until he had him sat up against his headboard with a cup of chicken soup loosely clutched in his hands.
“Want to tell me what happened?” he asked, sitting in the side of the beg with a mug of his own. Dean stared ahead, not hearing Sam.
“Dean.” Sam sighed his name. “Whatever it was, if you're like this then it had to be something big. What happened?”
Dean closed his eyes, losing a battle he didn't even try to win against new tears. Even with his eyes closed he could feel Sam's pitying gaze directed at him. The silence stretched until Dean could bear it no more.
“He's married.”, he whispered.
“What?”, the shock in Sam's voice spurred him on.
“Married with a kid.”
“Bastard.” Sam grunted.
“Don't say that.”, despite the anger, Dean still felt the need to defend the other man. It wasn't his fault he always looked so innocent.
“But Dean...”
“No, don't.”, Dean's voice bore no argument.”He said...he said....”, his voice broke and he was unable to continue through his gasping sobs. Sam grimaced as he reached to comfort his brother.
“He said he didn't love her.”, Dean was talking incoherently, crying choking off half his words. Sam just sat with him, an arm resting on his back to offer what little comfort he could. Slowly, the tears stopped and Dean's ragged breathing became less harsh.
“Ellen was right.” Dean muttered.
“Ellen?” Sam asked.
“Yeah.”, Dean looked ready for another round of tears. All Sam could make out was something about baskets and ovaries. Sometimes he really didn't want to know what his brother and Ellen talked about. It took until dusk for Sam to be able to drag Dean out of bed. He was at the end of his patience and Dean made little sense still. What Sam had managed to gather was that Cas had a wife and a kid who he'd upped and left. Still, Sam couldn't help wonder if there was more to this. His inner-lawyer was telling him that this was just the tip of the iceberg.
A shower and another mug of soup later, Dean felt well enough to try and smile. He forced the soup down his throat, made himself talk to Sam about anything and everything under the sun that didn't involve himself or his (ex)love life. By the time Sam was getting ready to go, the mask was back in place, seamless as ever. Dean could fool anyone again.
Life went on. Cas still occasionally texted Dean but he was astutely ignored. Ellen never mentioned anything and it was business as usual at The Emporium. Or it would have been had Zacharia not barged in one afternoon fuming and red faced.
“What have you done to him?”, he pointed an accusing finger at Dean.
“I beg your pardon?”
“What have you done to Castiel? He hasn't been to work since last week, he's not answering his phone, he requests no sick leave and today I get a letter of resignation with no forwarding address for references or anything? What have you done to one of my best employees?”, he demanded. Dean blinked at him is complete incomprehension.
“What?”, Dean's brow furrowed in confusion, “I haven't seen him in a week.”
Zacharia looked ready to burst a blood vessel.
“Then go and fix it you idiot! I don't know what happened between you two but go and fix it immediately.”, he roared.
“Whoah whoah whoah!”, Dean threw up his hands, “You want me to what? He's the one who fucked up, not me. I'm not running to fix anything. I actually wish to keep my job.”
“I don't care about your fucking job.”, Zacharia shouted, “I want you to go.”
“It's all right Dean. I can man the shop until Ellen gets here.”, Bobby's gruff tones came from the door, “Go to him. He might need help.”
Dean floundered. He didn't particularly want to see Castiel again. He was still too heart broken and betrayed to be able to see him. And why were these two men - practically strangers - telling him to go. His phone buzzed in his pocket. Without thinking, he flipped it open to read. It was Cas.
“Dean, I'm so sorry.”, it read, “I hope you find someone you deserve. Take care and good bye.”
Dean closed his eyes as an echo of Cas' voice rang through his mind.
It was either that or slitting my wrists. Which sin was worse do you think? The knife certainly hurt less than our wedding vows.
He ran out of the door without a backward glance or a worry for the customers still in the shop.
09: One Last Time
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