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It's been this way since the moment Dean can remember. Permanently inked wrists with soulmates' hands intertwining. When he was four, it was the most magical and beautiful concept he ever has seen. Now, it was just torture seeing everyone happy and yeah he may be glad others are happy, but he can't help but feel lonely and selfish.
He can still remember the day his mother explained to him why everyone has words imprinted on the inside of their arm. They were sitting underneath an oak tree in the summer and Dean was excited to spend the day with his mother while his dad is at work. A toddler curled into his mother's side asking curious questions about the world. Like why's the sky blue and where do babies come from? But this particular day when his mother gently rubs her thumb against the back of his hand Dean needed to know the answer to his question. So he then asked, why does everyone have words written on their body?
His mother's voice hitched at the question not long before lifting her son by his shoulder to sit up against the stable bark. She then looked down at him calculating her thoughts.
"The words you are born with is the first words your soulmate will say to you." She explains awaiting another ramble of questions from her smart young boy.
"Really? What do your words say? What do my words say? What's a soulmate?" Dean rants trying to form a complete thought.
His mom hummed pleasantly the sound comforted him so his words stopped spitting and mind stopped spinning.
"You're soulmate is someone who will stand by your side and be the one to love you. Your soulmate will comfort you and gives you lots of hugs and kisses." She replies reaching to tickle her son whom laughingly squirmed away from the touch.
"Are you my soulmate?" Dean asks innocently wide eyed.
She has a laughs watching the wheels turning inside Dean's head. Always ready with a different question. "No, Daddy is my soulmate. Your soulmate will be much better than me." She mocks the last sentence pulling a smile from her child.
"What do my word say?" Dean repeats.
"You deserve to be saved." She whispers trying to imagine her son's first occurrence with his soulmate. "I think I'm going to like your soulmate!" She says with widening her arms to embrace Dean. He would hug her unknowingly hugging his unborn baby brother.
~
He became quite obsessed with the idea of his soulmate. Dean had no problem talking about soulmates with his younger brother, Sam, until he got about eight. Dean would unconsciously rub at his tattoo longing for this one person that will make imperfect life perfect. He would always caress the blank printed words on her wrist "Wow!" and openly stared at his dad's wrist whenever the words were exposed that stated, "Hi, I'm Mary."
Pretty generic sayings, but Mary assured him that when they made eye contact their connection just sparked. This caused their dad to whisper completely shocked, the air knocked out of him, "Wow!" She had no problem reciting her story to her sons proudly. When he was younger he would hang by her every word, teen years he would roll his eyes and walk away. He then environmentally learned he shouldn't be talking about soulmates all the time like a hopeless romantic because it's too feminine. Dean lived by that rule, his father's rule, because he thought he was doing the right thing. He ended up depriving himself and willing away his mother's beautiful words. Now though, he wanted to hear her voice and listen to that story one last time.
He's exhausted. Tired of life, tired of living, tired of going through the motions staying stuck at the same point in his life. Alone. The dull ache is his chest didn't go away as if he was spending his days in a constant panic attack. The pain never really went away. Losing his mother was the starts but the snowball kept rolling. Dean could only describe his feeling as a wound in his heart that kept deepening and opening, blood seeping out uncontrollably, the pain only getting more intense as time went on.
Why did everyone else get a soulmate?
Why isn't he good enough?
Sam always tells him that there is still time. His one and only with come, but at age forty Dean is still by himself and Sam, being four years younger already found his soulmate Jessica at the age of twenty. She's a sweet girl, blonde hair, bright eyes, smart, but always sassy. Dean loves her and glad Sam has her, but inside he is dying with envy.
The way they look at each other like they're each other's world and how they softly touch and caress one another with such comfort and safety. It makes the uncomfortable weight in his chest expand in need. He's proud of his little brother, but he tonight he announced their engagement and Dean more than ever feels alone.
That's how he ends up on the side of a bridge ready to jump to the rocky freezing death. It doesn't help that he is stumbling around and swaying. His blurred vision didn't go away and the alcohol flowing through his veins didn't stop the constant held belief that if he just killed himself he couldn't feel pain. The bottle of vodka in his hand is unconsciously gripped tightly the chilly air burning his hands. Dean trips over air and falls towards the bridge, his hands reaching out to brace himself and he catches the hard sturdy metal railing. He drops the bottle in the process and with a sinister grin he peers down as the bottle sink through the air and crash into the rapid sweeping water. He can hear the loud water pelt against each other and against the rocks. It was a low roar pummeling through his brain.
He wasn't necessarily going to jump, but it felt amazing to be in control for once in his life. He had his own life and death in his hands. He could jump and feel the excruciating pain and then die, but it would be his own decision.
All of the sudden to his side he hears a man yell, "You deserve to be saved." Dean jumps, turning around and leans his back against the bridge railing. The guy is beautiful, crazy black hair and blue eyes burning with life. His face is showing the obvious emotion of concern. His eyebrows scrunched together and jaw tightly clenched. Worst of all, the man is staring directly at him.
Of course, Dean would meet his soulmate like this.
"You don't really want to die, you want to be saved." The guy's voice hollers surrounding Dean in a soft blanket. His beautiful low voice carries itself over the loud crashing water beneath them. He begins to approach closer.
Dean's lips open and close trying to formulate words or at least sounds, but nothing was coming out.
"I know it's hard now, but the fact that you are even listening to me speak is proof enough that you want to live." The man says looking at the other terrified man in the eye. "Deep down, you are still fighting."
Dean stood frozen in place, no words escaping his mouth. No only did his soulmate have the worst timing, his soulmate doesn't know Dean is his soulmate. Without control, Dean's mind tried to spin, but it focuses in on the man yelling at him.
The man runs up to him and yanks him from the side of the bridge so they're both in the middle of the road.
"Seriously! What ever is wrong with your life right now will pass." The man says lifting his hand from Dean's wrist as sees the phrase 'you deserve to be saved' tattoo.
"A-are you an angel?" Dean finally stutters out.
His eyes popped open at the words and a heart breaking smile invades is face. "No, but I'm named after an angel. Hi, I'm Castiel."
"Dean." He replies sheepishly and glances down at Castiel's wrists to see his words wrapped in cursive around Castiel's arm. "Go around saving people often?" He mumbles.
"Only the ones that deserve to be saved." Cas whispers envoloping Dean in the most comforting hug he ever felt in his life.
Yeah, it was worth the wait.