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Weekends did not carry the same excitement for Castiel that it did for the majority of college students. He didn't go out much, preferring relaxed gatherings of his small group of friends to smoky clubs and bars that reeked of cheap beer. He had no such plans this weekend however, save for his meeting with Dean that Saturday morning. They texted a bit throughout the days leading up to their unofficial date, despite Castiel professing to being a horrible texter. Even his best friend Meg was surprised at how often she saw him with his thumbs tapping away on his screen. He had of course, told her about Dean when they had been hanging out the day he had met him. She was excited for him but also warned him to stay guarded. She'd seen her precious tree topper broken hearted way too many times.
Friday night was a casual night for the two of them. They had a basket of fries between them, ice cream waiting in the freezer, and the stupidest, lowest rated movie they could find on Netflix playing on Cas' tv. Meg had made her way through two glasses of her cheap red wine before she started asking about progress with Dean.
"We haven't really been having conversations with any purpose. We've just been kind of, saying whatever." On his part Cas knew it was partly because he communicated better in person, and partly because he just wanted the comfort of Dean still being there, on the other side. It was a strange bandage for his loneliness but it was a sparkly green one with smiley faces on it, not a bland flesh colored one. 'What an odd metaphor,' he thought to himself.
Meg picked up the fries and put them in her lap so she could scoot closer to snuggle into Cas' side and loop one of her arms through his. She rested her head on his shoulder and sipped more of her wine. He was a little averse to touch from most people but he was happy to provide the platonic tactile love that Meg wordlessly craved. They watched the scene unfold on screen where an army of undead beavers were attacking teenagers in their cabin.
"What if Dean turns out to be a Zombeaver who just wants to turn you to further the Zombeaver agenda?" Meg mused.
"I'd be much more weary of him if he were one of the stupid people who allowed the cabin to be infiltrated."
"You'd tell me if you were a zombie in disguise, right?"
"Yes of course, Meg."
"Would you turn me or would you eat me?" She laughed into her glass.
"I would turn you." He replied with a mouthful of mustard covered fries.
"What if I was the last human alive and if you didn't eat me you'd starve?"
"I'd rather have my best friend by my side, either way." After a moment of thought, "Also I'm not well read on the particulars of zombie biology but I don't think the undead could die again from something like malnutrition."
"Shut up and watch the movie, Clarence."
Castiel's phone buzzed and Meg held his water tumbler so he could respond.
"Tell him I'll claw his brains out if he hurts you." She mumbled casually, eyes on the absurd violence occurring on the tv.
"Look at you, my caretaker. But I don't think he'd intentionally cause me harm. I'm a very good judge on character." He gave her a small nudge with his shoulder.
"Actually your judgement of character is horrible, which is how you ended up best friends with a demon." She laughed darkly. He knew she meant to sound humorous but he could hear the undertones of her low opinion of herself, and he hated that.
"Such beautiful thorny pain, I-"
"Your poetry sucks, Clarence." She softened her words with a kiss to his cheek. Her affection always carried unspoken words to her best friend and he understood that she wasn't in the mood to get into a conversation about her own problems. So he let it be.
She fell asleep after her fourth glass of wine. He didn't move until the second movie was over but as soon as the credits rolled he extracted his arm from her grip and rubbed her back to wake her. He dropped her home and then returned to his apartment to clean up and try to sleep for a few hours before he had to get up to meet Dean. He did the yoga circuit and breathing excercises that he and his therapist found to help him sleep but an hour later, he was still wide awake. It was going to be one of those nights, then.
He couldn't shut off his thoughts or slow his mind down enough to relax into a much needed rest. How his mind leapt from his favorite tv show character to the probability that he'd be alone for the rest of his life to different breeds of cats to the most effective method of suicide, he'd never understand. It was like a constant high speed chase on the back of an emu. He didn't realize when he started, but moisture on his pillow alerted him that he'd been crying. He grabbed a fistful of his own hair and tugged harshly, cursing at himself to just stop with the emotional roller coaster bullshit and sleep so that he could meet Dean and not be completely unpleasant.
"Why can't you just fucking be normal?" He kept chanting aloud through heaving breaths and choked sobs that he forced down.
He hated himself. He was supposed to sleep so he would awake refreshed and full of energy to spend time with the interesting green eyed man and get to know him and hopefully become friends. He was supposed to have a good day. He was- His phone buzzed and he looked at the screen in utter shock.
"H-hello?"
"Hey, Cas. Were you umm, I hope I didn't wake you up."
"It is 3 in the morning and I am an insomniac. Of course you didn't wake me up." He tried to speak clearly despite his dry throat and pained breathing.
He heard Dean chuckle shallowly on the other side. "You couldn't sleep either, huh? Well umm I was thinking. Do you want me to come pick you up now? I know it's like two and a half hours earlier and whatever but I figure, we're both up anyway. That's two and a half more hours we get to hang out." There was a pause, as if he were collecting himself. "I mean. If you want to that is."
"Yeah yeah for sure. Let me shower and I'll text you." Castiel replied reflexively. He had that bone in his nervous body that just wanted to please and do as people wished so that they'd be happy with him. But he didn't want to get out of bed. He wanted to lay there where Dean couldn't see what a broken mess he was. But his insecurity betrayed him and he now had to hurry and clean himself up in a timely manner.
In the shower he made sure to pay extra attention to his face so there wouldnt be blotchiness or puffiness to let on that he'd been crying. He dressed in a comfortable pair of black fleece lined sweat pants, a white t shirt and black flannel, and a tan cardigan on top. When he got Dean's text letting him know he'd arrived, he quickly grabbed his keys, phone, and wallet and met him outside. He was standing infront of a sleek black classic looking muscle car. He couldn't say he was surprised Dean owned that kind of car.
"Hello Dean." He said as calmly as possible.
"Hey Cas!"
He was caught off guard when Dean shuffled quickly to open his door for him. His green eyes darted in every direction as his lower lip curled inwards. 'He's shy, and nervous.' Castiel realized. He tried to smile graciously at him, despite his mood.
"Thank you Dean. Very chivalrous of you."
"Yeah no sweat." He mumbled, making his way back around to the driver side.
Neither man said much on the ride there and ten minutes in, Cas realized he didnt know where they were going. He wanted to question but his words shied away in the back of his throat, unwilling to break the calm that the rock ballad crooning from the stero created. When Dean parked, Cas noticed they were in a park on the other side of town. He had come here before a handful of times as a sophomore for picnics with his friends. Dean hurried to open his door for him and he stepped out, thanking him again.
"You don't have to do that, Dean."
"I'm not a lousy date, Cas, come on. I like to open doors and pull out chairs and shit." This time their eyes met, as if Dean was trying to gather the resolve to stand his ground and protect his reputation. Castiel backed off, not wanting to ruin it already. They walked close together, hands brushing. Castiel wasn't sure if the feeling that was buzzing through him was the desire to hold his hand and anxiety over it being an unwelcome move on Dean, or if it was a fear of them holding hands and the anxiety that accompanied touching people he didnt know well. 'How strange.'
Dean led the way to the highest point of the park, a hill that overlooked the city. He thought this would be the perfect place to actually watch the sunrise. As if he could read his thoughts, Dean chuckled.
"Sweet spot to see the sun rise, huh? So I just thought it'd make our plan even better. You know? Wait until the sun is just about to peak over the horizon and then we ditch for some pancakes." He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes wandering.
"You're a genius, Dean." He earned a full belly laugh and he further decided he really wanted to hear that more often.
They sat side by side atop the hill, listening to the tranquil stillness of the world around them. Castiel laid down in the grass with his arms beside him, looking up at the few visible stars.
"This is why I love this time of day. The peacefulness of it all. The air is calm and cool, there's a soft sort of stillness in the air. There are still some stars in the sky and no one is on the streets making noise." He breathed out, grateful that his lungs were working comfortably again.
Dean joined him on the ground and pointed up. "There's Orions Belt."
Castiel's eyes followed to see the well known three stars twinking in a row.
"If you turn into a constellation when you die, what would you be?" Dean asked.
"I don't know. Probably some kind of wounded animal."
Dean chanced a glance at his odd companion. "Why?"
"Because, you know. When I die it'll probably because I lost my fight. Because one day I wont be strong enough to keep going and the hunter's arrow will hit its mark and I'll bleed out." There was no emotion in his voice. Only what he knew as cold truth.
"I'd he a squirrel." Dean interrupted his brooding.
"Why?" He quirked an eyebrow.
"A friend of mine calls me squirrel. And it kind of stuck, and I know it wasn't like from a mean place or anything so I kind of like it."
"But why did they call you squirrel to begin with?"
Dean shrugged his shoulders with a fond grin. "No fucking clue. He's kind of a...well...he's an interesting guy. Calls my brother moose, but that makes sense because he's freakishly huge."
Dean continued talking about this strange friend and his younger brother and some of his memories back home. It sounded like Dean had many good friends and healthy relationships in his life. Castiel wasn't that. He'd be a source of negativity. He'd cast a heavy cloud over Dean and the man certainly didn't need that. He didn't even know what he was seeking therapy for, since he had eluded Missouri's question at the group session with his crack at humor. Castiel would only bring him down further. He didn't want to do that. He didn't want to make his situation worse or add unnecessary worry or anxiety and he needed to get out of there and out of Dean's life because the man seemed so kind and surely he'd deny Castiel's fears but only out of pity because anyone could see how broken he is and he'd just have to make sure to never see him again and maybe only admire him from a distance without his knowledge because that was all he could allow himself because he'd always be alone and stupid and no one could want him because he was just such a mess and he fucked everything up even himself even Meg was worse off with him in her life and he just couldn't do that to another person but he was too weak to give her up because she was his best friend but maybe if he killed himself everyone would be released from his negativity and all their problems would go away and everything would be ok and they'd all be happy all he had to do was kill himself which wouldnt be that hard. He would just have to pack up his room first so his parents wouldnt have to go through the trouble and he had his goodbye letters written and a will already drafted and he'd have to kill himself without making a mess so the custodial crew at his apartment wouldnt have to scrub his blood out of the carpets so that meant he'd do it in the bathtub maybe he'd fill it with warm water but he didn't want the smell of his dead body to get too bad and he'd have to be quiet so he didn't bother his roommates and-
"Cas? Castiel? Hey, CAS!"
Dean was crouched over him with his face between his large hands. His forest green eyes were large with worry and his brows furrowed above them. Castiel felt immensely guilty but he just couldn't breathe and he became aware of the numbness in his fingers and toes and the sharp ache in his chest. Dean brought him up and cradled him to his chest, rocking back and forth, singing 'Hey Jude' quietly as his fingers threaded through his messy hair. Castiel hated himself for his weakness and clutched at Deans collar, crying into the fabric.
"I-I'm s-so-sorry fo-for, for doing th-this. I'm s-sorry Dean. I'm sorry." He bawled, muffling his apologies against his shirt.
Dean only hushed him soothingly and continued singing, repeating the song over and over. When Castiel's breathing finally evened out he tried to extract himself from the mess he made on Dean but the gentle man softly maintained his protective hold over him. He breathed in his scent. It was a blend of fresh lavender laundry detergent, leather, and something that smelled kind of woodsy. Dean's touch never faltered and his voice didn't cease until Castiel murmured his embarrassed appreciation. He tried to make himself smaller, mortified that he had made such a scene on a date, but Dean looped his arms under his waist and gave him a hug, not saying anything, just trying to provide quiet comfort. Castiel gave in to himself and wound his arms around his neck and hooked his chin over Dean's shoulder.
"I'm sorry I ruined it."
"You didn't ruin anything. I swear. I was talking and you weren't responsive and when I looked over...well...I recognized what was going on. I have an anxiety attack every couple of days like that, so don't apologize. It happens. And it sucks. It sucks so fucking bad I know, but it's ok. I'm glad you were here with me and not alone."
They sat in each other's arms for quite a while, Dean rubbing his back and whispering reassurances to him while Cas occasionally hiccupped, trying to relax. Dean was helping immensely.
"I'm sorry I didn't ask if it was ok to touch you before I put my hands all over you." Dean stated, his voice suddenly very small.
"Don't. I mean, yes I typically don't like to be touched but I think it is ok when you do it. I trust you. It seemed to help. So don't be sorry. In fact, thank you for responding so well. I'm so embarrassed. I would be the one to screw up a date with a fucking anxiety attack."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Castiel shook his head, and thankfully, Dean didn't press on. They released each other and sat with their backs against a tree.
"Is it ok if I hold your hand?" Dean asked. Castiel didn't answer, not trusting his voice not to shake, so he just joined their hands with a meaningful look and then closed his eyes again and rested his head against the tree trunk. When Dean began speaking, he turned to watch him, though he didn't return his eye contact.
"My mom died when I was sixteen. There was a fire in the middle of the night. Our baby step brother, Adam, my dad's son from an affair, was in the house and my mom went in to get him out but everything just collapsed. My dad had third degree burns all over his body from trying to rescue them. I've got scars from here," he motioned from his chest to lower part of his back with his finger, "To here, from trying to pull my dad out. It fucked us all up. Dad basically checked out and our Uncle Bobby took me and Sammy in. But money was always an issue in my head because I was scared I was a burden on Bobby and I wanted to pull my weight so I worked two jobs behind Bobby's back in addition to helping him out at his auto shop. I uhh...well I was freaking out about being able to pay for college and Sam's college so one night after work, the shift manager asked if I wanted to make some extra money and I guess I was stupid and naive and I agreed. So he got me in the backseat of his car and...before I could understand or get a grip on what was happening, he was raping me. It, fuck. I was too scared to tell Bobby because I was afraid he'd say I shouldn't have even been working that second job to begin with. Which was stupid. Bobby loves us more than anyone ever has. I uhh, still haven't told him. Or anyone. Besides Missouri and now you. I still have nightmares every now and then. I'm terrified of fire. I've got hardcore abandonment issues. So no, I don't understand exactly how you feel, but I know what it feels like to think you're fucked up or broken." He gave his hand a squeeze, turning his head away, unwilling to meet his eyes.
Castiel didnt know what to say. "Thank you for sharing your story with me, Dean."
He adjusted his posture so he could lean his head on Dean's shoulder. They sat like that on the hill, hands joined, brushing their thumbs over their knuckles, not saying much. There was no need to, not this morning. They ended up staying as the sun rose up into the sky, but they were faced in the opposite direction, preferring to see the world come alive under the soft pink light.
"It's a new day, Cas."