[Chapter] Passenger Seat (5/6)
words: 3.688 words
"Start by pulling him out of the fire and
hoping that he will forget the smell.
He was supposed to be an angel but they took him
from that light and turned him into something hungry,
something that forgets what his hands are for when they
aren’t shaking.
He will lose so much, and you will watch it all happen
because you had him first, and you would let the world
break its own neck if it means keeping him.
Start by wiping the blood off of his chin and
pretending to understand.
Repeat to yourself
“I won’t leave you, I won’t leave you”
until you fall asleep and dream of the place
where nothing is red.
When is a monster not a monster?
Oh, when you love it.
Oh, when you used to sing it to sleep.
Caitlyn Siehl, “Start Here”
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You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking . You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
»»-------------¤-------------««
It’s been over a week now. Not just days, like before, not just hours or minutes. Until the first three days, I could actually tell you the minutes since. In my head, it kept being added. Every few minutes, something would tell me; “it’s already been ten minutes why are you still crying, why are you breaking down over something like this.” And later “it’s been twenty hours, you really don’t care enough”
Everything is starting to dim down and I don’t know whether it is because I am starting to get over the fact that my mother is gone or because it is only now settling in and letting me realize that yes, I am alone right now.
I don’t know. It’s all pretty weird.I saw her body burn as if she was a witch during the witch trials and it felt almost as if I was the one on fire. Smoke filled my lungs and it felt like I too was choking on dry air. Time passed and the smoke cleared up, her body burned and turned into ashes. I can't imagine the fire. God, I hope that she didn't feel a thing, that she's with dad now.
It's been too long now and I'm still mourning. I am just a huge baby. I am a baby.
The pen felt wrong in Castiel’s hands. He didn’t know if it was because he was trying to write down something that he still didn’t quite gasp or if it was just because it was all so raw and wrong. He’d tried to, tried to write down what he felt at first, but it was a wasted effort. Each time he even attempted to, he started crying too easily. He would continue writing, but only because of the fact that it hurt. There were pages like the one before he was working on. Pages just filled with 'You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking' that were crossed out. John must have taken one look at him and realized that he was a little kid, a mere toddler. Castiel had seen it in his eyes, that pity that almost felt offensive. While he hated having to rely on John on what to do, how to stop his mother from coming back instead of going to heaven. Or hell he assumed. He didn’t quite know where hunters went when they passed on.
She deserved to be in heaven, but Cas guessed that he was good with her being anywhere, as long as she was with his father again, as long that at least the two of them were happy and together. He didn’t care how much it mangled their souls or how terrible they became. He just wanted them to be happy and together.
“I’m sorry.” Castiel looked up from where he was sitting and let his eyes roam to Dean. He hadn’t noticed that he had come in, but then again he had been buried in thought. “About your mom.” Castiel hadn’t even known that Dean and Sam had been with John. On the night that he burned her bones, it had been just the two of them.
“Thank you.” The words sounded hollow, even to his ears. “It’s appreciated.” He’d heard that so often the past couple of days. Hunters that his mother worked with or was in contact with that called or send a text with their condolences. It made him want to rip his hair out or hit a wall. The latter of which he had actually done. He knew that he shouldn’t, that hurting himself wouldn’t help for long, but it was better than a lot of the ways that he did.
»»-------------¤-------------««
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking . You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking. You are being a baby stop crying, stop breaking.
»»-------------¤-------------««
Castiel still had nightmares about the night, still shook when he saw the gun in the back of the car and saw the blood still clinging to the handle. He’d cleaned it off; used bleach until his hands stung and the scent had dug its way into his nose. He still smelled the bleach in the air, even though he knew that it wasn’t there and that he was just imagining things. The scent wasn’t there anymore.
Dean and Sam stayed with him for a few days while their father hunted, like the time they had met. This time, he knew that it wasn’t because John wanted them to. They were old enough to be alone in a motel room, this time Sam as well old enough to fend for himself. He was sure that Dean had asked his father if they could stay or perhaps if they could keep an eye out on him. Dean was that way, felt guilty for things that he shouldn’t feel guilty for. Quite the opposite really.
Thing was, he didn’t appreciate it. Didn’t appreciate the judging looks that Dean threw him that first night, when he came back at two am shivering like a sheet. He knew that Dean had been the one that draped the sheet of his body even though Castiel hadn’t wanted it or needed it. At least the cold had given him something else to feel than the numbness and the white hot anger that seemed to flow through his veins at the sole thought that his mother had taken that hunt alone.
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It was colder out than he wanted to admit. It bit through his shirt and left goosebumps on his skin, but he didn’t’ really care about it. When Dean and he had met the first time around, their situation had been quite similar. At least, that was how Castiel guessed that he could look at it. He thought that he felt terrible that night, he thought that that had been the worst that he could perhaps be. God, how fate had proven that otherwise and drown him that even if he thought that he couldn’t get any worse he damn well come become a wreck. It was just a little later than he had anticipated life to become hectic and weird.
His cigarette was trembling between his fingers. If he wasn’t careful, he’d drop it. If it wasn’t that he couldn’t light another one, it was just that it would show just how much he was breaking, how much his cracks were showing.
Castiel hadn’t really gotten farther than the playground, sitting down on the swings. It wasn’t like there would be a kid going out and wanting to swing anyway. God, he had needed to be alone, he had wanted the silence and quiet. Dean and Sam were lovely company and sure, they did help a little bit. When they were around even if it was just for a week, he didn’t get so lost inside himself. He didn’t get his emotions all jumbled up.
Except that some days, especially that day, it felt like the stars and the sky was caving in on him, as if he was atlas and the sky rested on his shoulders. It wasn’t even like that much had happened over the past couple of days, it wasn’t like it was all that bad. He was sure that he was just overacting, that this was just him being unable to do undergo even the slightest emotional change in his life and he hated it.
Castiel wasn’t quite sure when he’d started sobbing and when his breathing became more and more restricted up until the point that he could barely breathe. He didn’t know how late it had gotten, only knew that he could barely see at this point and he was out of cigarettes. He had thought that he’d grabbed his new pack on the way out, but apparently he hadn’t. Not that he really cared too much, it wasn’t like he needed the cigarettes, it was just a good distraction for him, a distraction that perhaps, he needed.
Cas knew that his phone had been buzzing every ten to twenty minutes or so, but he’d chosen to ignore it. It wasn’t like there was anybody important that could need him. It would only be more people trying to console him and trying to express that they were sorry.
Sure enough, each of them was. He listened to each of them, putting himself through the torture of it for blatant not even caring anymore. He was so angry. Angry that those annoying idiots didn’t care enough about his mother to check in when she was still alive yet all called when they heard that she had passed away. Angry because he knew that they hadn’t been there when his father had passed away or hadn’t checked in either.
If they didn’t then, why should they now? Why should they offer their support now? When they could literally do nothing but stare and watch as his life crumbled around him. At least John had attempted to help him, attempted to by leaving the boys with him. It was a feeble attempt, worth pretty much nothing but at least he attempted. It was more than could be said about most of the others.
“Cas?”
“Get away.” He didn’t want to punch Dean and he knew, if Dean would get to close that he would; if he would try to comfort him or touch him, he would snap and hit. “Dean, get the fuck away.” He wavered behind him and when Cas looked up to look at him and his barely lighted figure in the lampshade.
“Did something happen Cas?”
“Listen for yourself.” And listen, Dean did. Listened to the voicemails, a confused look in his eyes as he looked back at him. “They keep coming. They keep calling like they are sorry that I lost my mother but they never even looked twice when she was out there, on her own hunting? They never gave a single shit and now they’re all playing the sorry sons of bitches they are.”
“I’m s.” Dean started to speak, but he didn’t want to hear it, not again.
“Don’t,” he hissed, getting up from his swing. “Just, don’t.” He barely felt it has he walked over to the wall and punched it. His knuckles were scraped and throbbing, but it barely registered; barely registered as he went back in for a second swing and he hit the wall again. Pain seeped through his arm and he was vaguely aware of somebody pulling him away before going completely numb and letting himself be dragged way, all fight seeping out of him.
Instinctually, he knew now that the adrenaline was ebbing away that he was hurting. He knew that he’d fucked up his knuckles and would probably feel like shit the next day. There was an odd throbbing at his fingers. Castiel hadn’t quite dared move them just yet. The numbness that seemed to spread in his body was both upsetting and like a comfort blanket. It helped protect him, helped keep him safe.
Castiel only really resurfaced again when Dean sat him down on the bathroom chair. He’d zoned out during their walk back, not even sure how Dean had gotten him to start walking, or how they’d even gotten back to the motel room. Sam was lingering in the door opening, a worried look on his face. There were questions there and perhaps, he’d already asked them but Dean just wasn’t answering. Maybe Dean had answered, but his answer hadn’t been the one that he was hoping for.
“Cas?” Dean’s voice was surprisingly soft and it cut deeper than the previous words had done. “Hey, you with us again buddy?”
“Yeah.” He looked up at Dean, frowning. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to see if you can still move your fingers, you idiot.” Dean shook his head, before taking Cas’s hand in his again, moving the fingers carefully. “How does it feel?”
“Like you’re forcing it to move,” he said dryly, ignoring the way that Dean rolled his eyes. “I’ve had worse. It doesn’t hurt that bad.” At least it didn’t right now. It could be that it would start hurting later during the day but at least at the moment he was still quite good. That was until Dean tried bending the finger next to it and he hissed in pain.
“Not so much huh.”
“We should take you to a hospital,” Sam supplied from the corner of the room. “Get you checked out just to be sure.”
“The kid’s got a point, Cas. They’re looking pretty bad.”
“And say what? Hey, he punched a wall, doesn’t have an insurance and can’t exactly fake one anymore. Look Dean, I appreciate it but it will heal on its own.” It would, eventually and hell yes, it would hurt but that had partially been his point.
Dean sighed, before throwing his brother his wallet. “Sam, go run out and grab some whatever they’re willing to give over the counter.” He waited until Sam had pulled the door closed behind him to speak again, disapproval clear in his voice. “Why did you do that Cas?”
“Why do you think Dean. This hasn’t exactly been a smooth ride so far.” He shook his head. It wasn’t something he liked to talk about. “The entirety of this thing hasn’t exactly been a smooth ride. I’m not cut out to be a hunter, to handle these things.”
“This is not the way to deal with it,” Dean bit back, “what were you even thinking man? Hey, this hurts but it feels good so I’ll do it again? You know that it doesn’t help.”
“Dean, I don’t expect you to understand. You can go out and you punch some people. Feels real good right, to take a werewolf out? Vampire? Supernatural creature in general? Well it feels like crap to me. Knowing that I ended that, whatever life they had. I can’t okay. You can, but I can’t. So if this is the way that I choose to deal with it, you don’t have the right to say anything. I internalize my anger, you out those in the creatures. Two times the same thing and you can’t convince me otherwise.”
“Damn it Cas, there’s a difference and you damn well know it.” He knew, part of him did at least. Dean didn’t say anything else before dragging him to his feet and holding his hand in the sink, pouring some peroxide on his hand. “I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” It’s good. “Look, Cas. If you ever need to call, you just call okay? I know that I am all for ‘no chick flick moments’ but I don’t care okay. Even if you just need to vent just call.”
“Thank you.” Castiel knew that he wasn’t going to call, but he appreciated it anyway, even if Dean probably didn’t quite mean it.
“When Sam comes back, you’re going to sleep okay? You’re freezing. I probably shouldn’t even give you pills but you’ll need them not to wake up from the pain tomorrow.” He spoke as he bandaged up his hand, putting the disinfectant on the gauze and wrapping it up. “Remind me to change the dressing tomorrow morning.”
It was a little after that, as Castiel was already sitting on Dean’s bed with his knees pulled up that Sam came back with the pills. They weren’t strong enough to really completely numb the pain but they helped so he was glad to have them. He was ready to crawl on the couch and pull the blanket over him. It wouldn’t be the best spot to sleep but it was what he was used to. Both Winchesters were too tall for the couch anyway.
“Oh no you’re not,” Dean huffed, pulling him back up. “If we let you sleep on the couch you’re out again before we know it.” And yeah, that would have been true if the pills hadn’t been that effective. He’d taken probably too many, more than was good for him, but he honestly didn’t really care. “Come, the bed will help you sleep a little bit faster. I can sleep on the couch.”
“I don’t want to steal your bed.”
“Well you’re not stealing, I’m offering.” Dean walked him to the bed, even going the length to tuck him in and make sure that he
wouldn’t move or try to get away. “Go to sleep Cas.”
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Castiel woke up screaming. Or at least, he was pretty sure that he was still screaming by the time that Dean shook him awake. The light filtered through the windows and Sam’s bed was empty, so it had to be later during the evening, but Dean was still in his PJ’s. Castiel felt wrecked, as if he had been through battle.
“Cas? Cas. Calm down. It’s okay you’re safe, it’s okay.” He fought against Dean’s grip, eventually calming down when Dean kept whispering and kept reassuring him that it was fine. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay.” He was gathered into Dean’s arms, head against his chest. No matter how awkward it was, Dean’s heartbeat calmed him down, made him feel a little bit better about himself. “Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay. I’m good. I’m okay now.” He could breathe again.
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John came and took his only grip on reality away from him. The hunt was over and the companionship was as well. Dean made him promise to call, but he never did. All he did was drift, hit the road.
Castiel didn't look back.