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How did we even get here?
We were just supposed to find dad. Bring him home, live the rest of our lives. Sammy was supposed to stay in college, marry Jess. He was supposed to have a life. Our lives have turned around in so many ways. This life wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Dean wrote in his journal. A heavy sigh left his lips, clicking the pen anxiously as his mind raced with thoughts he couldn’t put into words. The boys have their days. Days where they feel tired, exhausted, feel like the world just doesn’t actually need their help and they’re just doing this to avoid the obvious. Hunting doesn’t allow a hunter the luxury of a normal life, because once you know about the supernatural there is no point in staying out of it. Knowing you can help people, save lives...sitting around just doesn’t seem like an option anymore. Today was one of those “days” for Dean. He felt like everything was just too much. He always wondered how his life got so messed up that now he calls an old bunker his home. How he can tell another hunter that he and his brother were possessed by the devil and an archangel. Were both demons, have an angel for a best friend and a half angel half human kid.
He wondered how a hunting trip to find his dad would turn into a life far beyond anyone could imagine.
His mind finally went blank after he wrote the last sentence in his journal, closing it and tossing it onto the nightstand beside his bed. He laid down on his back, staring up at the ceiling letting his mind continue to wonder. Dean wondered if his past decisions would have a different outcome if he had chosen a different path. If he would have followed “God’s will”, if he stopped hunting all together. As he laid there in thought, his little brother Sam was in the kitchen with Eileen. They were cooking up whatever they could find in the pantry, smiling and laughing for how ridiculous they felt not knowing what they were even doing. Jack was sitting at the kitchen table playing a computer game that Sam had gotten him into, and Castiel sitting next to him wondering what kind of child would find any interest in playing a game about zombies.
“Hey Cas, can you check if Dean wants any food?” Sam asked, still laughing from something he and Eileen were only aware of. The angel nodded briefly, standing up and walking to his human’s door. As he got closer, he could hear small sniffles, and Dean’s thoughts. When Castiel first met Dean, he made it a point to never read his thoughts as Dean had told him it was “weird” and “a dick move”. But Dean’s thoughts were so loud it worried the angel. With a soft knock and a whisper of his name, Castiel opened the door a crack and peeked his head inside to see Dean laying flat on his back, his green glossy eyes staring into the depths of the ceiling and Castiel was sure Dean could explain every detail of it.
“Dean?” He said in a low, gruff voice. Dean blinked a few times, slowly lifting his head to see who had called his name.
With a forced smile and a nod, Dean said, “Hey Cas.” The air in the room was shifted. It grew thick with unspoken things from Dean, and Castiel welcomed himself inside. “Come in.” Dean said with a bit of sarcasm in his voice, but didn’t mean it in a rude way. Castiel shoved his hands in the pockets of his trench coat, searching the Winchester’s face. He had refrained himself from reading his thoughts, choosing to ignore it and rather hear it from Dean himself. Dean wouldn’t make eye contact with his angel, how could he? He knew Castiel would see something wrong with him; he could read Dean like a book. Though, part of him wasn’t sure if it was because of how long they had been around each other, or because of this “profound bond” they shared. Either way, lying was never easy for Dean anymore. At least lying to Castiel.
“Sam told me to ask if you wanted food.” The angel simply stated. Dean inhaled a deep breath and let it out. Tears threatened to fill his eyes to which he blinked away and nodded getting himself ready to stand from his bed. He was begging Castiel internally not to ask what was wrong, to just leave this alone, but deep down inside he wanted- no. He needed someone to talk to. Writing in his journal never felt enough for him, but he was scared. Scared that nobody would understand, no one would care or even listen. Dean Winchester was supposed to be this big tough hunter who feared nothing and someone who would be ready to give his life for his family in a heartbeat...but god, he was so tired. Tired of having to put on his tough guy facade. He was tired of having to be the strong one because that was who he was raised to be. “Dean.” Castiel’s voice pulled him from his thoughts and his green eyes connected with the angel’s blue ones. A lump had formed in his throat; not trusting his voice, he hummed in response. “Are you alright?” Dean clenched his jaw tightly, so tight he could break a tooth. Castiel watched him careful, noticing how quickly he turned away from him and blinked quickly.
“I’m-”
“No. You’re not.” Castiel interrupted. Dean chuckled lightly, trying his best to cover up what he wanted so desperately to let out. He looked at Castiel once more, not blinking the tears that filled his eyes away. A pained smile on his lips. His chest was heavy, the weight of the world falling hard onto his shoulders and his mind replaying everything that he has gone through over and over making him question all the things he could have done differently. The things he could’ve prevented...it was all too much for him. Dean Winchester had reached his breaking point.
“Yeah...yeah you’re right, Cas. I’m not.” Dean choked out. The part of him that kept his walls up was cursing at himself to grow a pair and push it aside, but the part of him that was tired and broken wanted to open up so badly. He wanted help. “I’m, uh, I’m pretty far from okay man.” Castiel went to shut the door and give them some privacy before he brought a chair from the corner of the room, sitting in front of Dean. His hands intertwined on his lap and his eyes softened, encouraging Dean to speak further. “I’m probably just being a little bitch about it.” Another airy chuckle left his lips, eyes falling to his feet as he fidgeted with his hands.
“I’m sure you’re not.” The angel reassured. Dean sniffled, regaining enough composure to speak to Castiel properly. To sound strong even when Castiel could see that he wasn’t. “I am your friend, Dean. You can talk to me.” He whispered his last sentence, using a voice that Dean would use on him many times. When Dean would try and comfort him when he was having his own problems.
“Yeah, I know. And thank you. I really appreciate that.” He smiled sincerely at his friend, more tears building up in his soft, and broken green eyes. Castiel let out a breath, preparing himself for whatever Dean was about to say. “I just...this wasn’t supposed to be my life.” Dean inhaled a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut and tightening the grip on his hands. “I was supposed to find my dad. Sammy was supposed to be in school, living his life and married with a family. I...Cas...I’m not supposed to be alive.” Castiel’s heart skipped a couple beats as those words left Dean’s mouth. “That time Sam took me to some faith healer, I was supposed to be dead. This...all of this...I don’t...I never wanted this.” A choked sob escaped his lips and Castiel leaned forward to place a hand over his to relieve the grip Dean had over his own. Dean opened his eyes, seeing the angel’s hand and relaxing under his touch. He took a few shaky breathes, calming himself to the best of his ability so he could keep going. So he could just let everything out once and for all. "Living this life for so long. Seeing the things we've seen. It never gets easier." Dean whispered. Castiel had tried his hardest not to intervene. He wanted to listen, to understand Dean's pain so he could help him with something that had nothing to do with what they deal with everyday. "We've fought for so long. I'm...I'm so tired, Cas. I'm so fucking tired."
"I understand." Castiel said quietly. He spoke the truth. He truly did understand how tiring being strong for so long could be. “Fighting, saving...whoever you can. I understand how tiring it gets.” Dean sighed, dropping his head onto his angel’s hand that was still holding both of his. “I understand that giving up may seem easier. That thinking if you did something different, you would end up on a different path. But, Dean, you did everything right.”
”What?” Dean questioned, lifting his head back up to look into Castiel’s eyes.
”I believe that every choice you make, it defines you. The decisions you think you could have made to change the present, is everything your father would have done.” Castiel hesitated, watching Dean carefully to make sure he wasn’t making him angry.
Instead, Dean chuckled softly and shook his head. “Get out of my head Cas.”
“You’re not your father, Dean.” The room fell silent. Nothing was heard but their breathing and everyone else in the kitchen. He was right. Dean was far from being anything like the man who raised him. Every choice he's made lead him where he is right now because he did everything his way. Dean made the decision. Not John. Not Mary. No one. It was all him. “We’re not that bad, right?” Castiel asked, smiling just to lighten the mood. Dean laughed, stray tears slipping out of his eyes before he shook his head softly.
”No. No you’re not.” Dean removed his hands from under Castiel’s and stood from his bed to gather himself and his thoughts. “Thanks pal.”
”Of course-”
“No, really. Thank you.” Dean looked at the angel. Sincerity carved into his green eyes making the corner of Castiel’s lips to move upward in a soft smile.
“You’re welcome.” Castiel stood from the chair and headed towards the door to go back to the kitchen. “Are you coming?” He asked once he noticed Dean wasn’t following.
Dean sniffled as he turned towards his friend, smiling softly before he spoke. “Yeah, just give me a sec. I’ll be there soon.” The angel eyed him carefully before nodding slowly, giving Dean a moment to himself. Dean chuckled at his own vulnerability. It was then that his brain had clicked. He walked over to where he had his journal; picking up the pen and writing one more thing inside.
I guess it isn’t all bad though. Having a family full of angels and hunters...may not seem normal to everyone else, but it’s the closest thing I’ve had to a real one.
I think I’ll be okay with that.