Old Habits Die Hard (Destiel)

Chapter Eleven

John drove down the freeway. His car was busted and old so he knew it would take him a while to get back to the bunker.

He shifted in his seat. The angel blade felt heavy in the inside of his coat.

John thought back to the angels instructions.

'Sneaking up on him is your best chance. Castiel is a slippery fucker so you have to get in fast. Try and do it when no one is around.'

John's heartbeat thumped in his ears.

'Make sure to stab in his torso. Anywhere else won't be lethal'

He was definitely going to have to get Cas alone. He could possibly say that an angel sent him to deliver a message... but he didn't know if Mary would buy it.

A part of John didn't want to do this. Dean was so connected to Cas, it would break him.

Dean seemed surprisingly connected to him actually. In his life Dean had never made connections to anyone but Sam. Fear of abandonment, he figured.

He guessed Dean thought Cas was different.

But Dean was his son, and after a while he was sure he'd be forgiven for this. After all, Castiel was a monster.

And it was his job to get rid of them.

*
Dean curled up in his bed. It had been almost two days with his dad gone, but he didn't feel the loss he thought he would.

He kept finding himself touching his face, or waking up in a cold sweat, expecting him to be there.

Dean knew it wasn't healthy. He didn't care though.

Unfortunately, Cas cared. The last two nights the angel lingered around Deans room, waiting to see if Dean needed him.

Last night the hunter woke up with a scream, thinking John would attack him again, but he ended up alone in the darkness. Castiel came in a few moments later, ready to calm him down.

Dean didn't cry, but his breathing was irregular, and his adrenaline was spiked.

After a few minutes of Cas talking to him, deep and calm, and he was back to normal.

As much as he hated to admit it, he didn't mind Cas looking out for him. It's not like he's had anyone else that had every done it.

Sam cared, but he's more the "talk it out type."

Something about Cas... Felt different to Dean.

Tonight, he thought. Tonight would be ok. No drama, no nightmares. He'll be fine.

He was wrong.

Next thing he remembered, his head was foggy. He was back to his childhood home, it was dark and cold. No lights were on. It had been abandoned a while ago.

He clung to his clammy sleeves and wished for his mom. He felt helpless, he had nothing to defend himself.

Dean wandered throughout the house, looking for a way out.

He ended up in his bathroom. It was the same as he remembered, but when he looked in the mirror... it looked like he was a teenager again?

"Dean"

his fathers voice pierced the darkness.

Dean's anxiety spiked. When he was a teenager, the beating were the worst.

His father didn't make the solidarity of the house better. In this situation, John felt like more of a monster.

Dean closed his eyes, hoping to open them and he free.

To no avail, John's voice came again.

"Dean. Answer me."

Dean took in a shaky breath. "What?"

"Good."

Dean looked around him, but he couldn't see anyone.

"I know what you've been doing, Dean."

Dean drew a shaky breath. "Leave me alone."

John tisked. "That's no way to talk to your father."

The hunter didn't respond. He couldn't. His anxiety was flooding him, he was all alone, and he couldn't escape.

"Dean, I'm going to punish you now."

Dean fell to his knees and clasped his hands over his face. "Wake up, wake up"

His face was wet with tears.

"Wake up!"