Fights, Camera, Action

Chapter Twelve

Dean woke to the soft light filtering in and the quiet snores of Charlie, somehow just as exhausted as he had been when he had gone to bed the night before. Carefully sitting up so as not to wake her, he glanced over and saw that Sam was no longer there. Picking his phone up from his night stand, he saw a text from Sam there.

Giant: Hey, I left earlier while you guys were sleeping. I just need to be alone right now. Talk to you later

Dean quickly shot him an answer about how he hoped he was doing alright and that he would talk to him later as well. Closing their conversation, he saw in his recent messages the group chat that the four of them shared. Had shared. Fuck, his eyes were welling up again. Trying not to cry, he shut his phone off and set it down again, a little louder than he had intended to. Charlie stirred next to him, opening her eyes groggily. Dean managed to flash her a weak smile before wiping his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Where's Sam?" Charlie asked quietly, also sitting up. Dean had never seen her so... faded. She was always so lively, so bright, but the Charlie that he saw now was nothing like her. There was a pang in his heart at the thought, wishing he could fix this for her, for Sam. For himself.

For Jess.

Shaking his head slightly, he finally answered the question she had asked. "He left earlier. He said he needs some time alone," he explained. She nodded, hugging her knees to her chest and staring off at the wall with a sigh. After a few minutes, she turned her head to look at Dean, resting her cheek on her knees.

"Do you think it ever stops feeling like this?" She asked quietly, voice shaky with unshed tears. Her grip on her legs tightened as the tears began to fall down her face silently.

Dean leaned back on the headboard, running a hand through his hair and then hugging his chest as he looked over at her. He knew exactly why she asked. She asked because the emptiness inside of her chest where her love for Jess used to be threatened to consume her whole. He knew because he had that same feeling. But he didn't know the answer, as badly as he wished he did.

"I'm not sure," he finally answered, a deep and shuddering breath wracking him as he tried to keep the tears at bay again. "I hope it gets easier, but I can't promise that it will. The only thing I can promise is that this means that we loved her, and loving her was worth the hard parts."

His efforts not to cry had failed, and tears fell from his eyes so heavily that he could hardly see. Charlie let out a quiet sob, and he hugged her almost instantly at the sound. She clung to him like she'd die if she let go, letting her broken tears soak his t-shirt as he held her just as tightly. Looking up at the ceiling, he blinked in an effort to clear his eyes and get a breath that didn't just fuel his relentless sobs. His wish wasn't granted, not for a while.

Finally, they both ran out of tears to cry, of things to say. Charlie got up and headed out, Dean seeing her to the door and hugging her goodbye. He couldn't help himself from whispering a quick "be safe" in her ear, and he cried yet again as soon as the door shut behind her.

He sank to the floor, clutching his arms to his chest and screaming in anger even as he let the tears fall. Why did Jess have to die? It wasn't fucking fair. She was easily the kindest and most loving of their little group, so why had it been her? Unable to stand how unfair it was, Dean stood, grabbing things off of his shelves and chucking them across the room and watching them shatter. He kept doing it until he ran out of nearby things to throw, then held onto the cabinet he'd taken the items from as he let sobs overtake him again. Leaning against the wall, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, deciding to go back upstairs and distract himself.

Sitting on the couch, he turned on some random show and let his mind turn off as he watched it. Curling into a blanket with a pillow under his head, he lay folded in on himself for hours, taking deep breaths to avoid tears every time he got close. He had never felt so mentally drained in his lifetime, and he could only hope he never would again. But for now, he had to get through this time first. And he had a long way to go.

All too soon, the tv stopped distracting him, and he felt the tears coming back no matter how many deep breaths he took. Turning onto his back so that he was staring up at the ceiling, he let them fall again, the sound of Jess's laugh ringing in his ears.

Sitting up sharply, he found that he really couldn't stand to be alone. Sam had needed space, and Charlie clearly did as well, but he needed someone to be there, anyone. Within moments, the answer popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, he had texted the number the studio had given him for Novak.

Dean: come over

Dean: please

Dean: I don't want to be alone right now

He regretted it as soon as he'd done it, but it was too late for that now. However, a few minutes later, his phone buzzed, and he quickly checked it, hope rising in his chest despite himself.

Novak: yeah, on my way

Dean let out a shaky breath of relief that he hadn't known he had been holding, closing his eyes and leaning back into the couch. He wouldn't have to be alone anymore. Oh, thank god. Even if it was Novak and they didn't often get along, he would have someone with him.

After an excruciating twenty minutes, he heard his doorbell ring and dragged himself up from the couch to answer it. He caught sight of his reflection in a window on his way down, stopping dead at the way he looked. His eyes were red and puffy, and there didn't seem to be any light behind them. There were bags under his eyes, and he looked pale and exhausted. His hair was a mess, and so were his clothes. Fuck, he was a mess.

He didn't snap out of it until the doorbell rang again, shaking his head and going the rest of the way down to open the door. Opening it, he was met with a shockingly worried looking Castiel. Quickly coming inside and shutting the door behind himself, Castiel gave Dean a quick once over and then glanced at the mess he had made earlier while downstairs.

"Dean, have you slept? Or eaten?" Castiel asked, and it was only then that Dean realized that he had not, in fact, eaten since his lunch the previous day. The loud rumbling of his stomach was enough of an answer for Cas, who pulled him upstairs after him and sat Dean down at his own kitchen bar stools. Turning to look at him once he'd gotten into the kitchen, Castiel leaned on the counter and softly spoke.

"What sounds good, Dean? I'm a pretty good cook, for all that's worth," he said, a sad smile finding its way onto his face. Dean sighed, leaning down and resting his head on his arms, which were crossed on the countertop.

"Whatever you feel like making," Dean said quietly. "I don't exactly have a lot of brain power going for me here." He let out a small huff of laughter that they both knew was fake, but Cas gave him a small nod.

"Alright. You just stay there and watch the magic happen," Castiel answered, going into Dean's fridge and cupboards for ingredients. After about ten minutes, the kitchen smelled fantastic, and Dean's rather spectacularly loud stomach rumbling had only gotten louder.

In the end, he sat some spectacular pasta dish that Dean couldn't pronounce the name of down in front of him, and Dean wolfed it down so quickly he almost choked. When he had finally finished, he looked up and saw Castiel looking at him with sad eyes. As soon as he was caught, though, Cas looked away, clearing his throat quietly.

As kind as this had been, Dean couldn't help but wonder why Castiel had said yes or come here in the first place, considering that they hardly got along. He tried to leave it, but he had to at least try to ask.

"Why did you say yes? Why did you come here? I know we haven't been quite as normal and hateful as usual lately, but I didn't think you would want to come here of your own free will," Dean said. Novak looked back to him, a bit of surprise in his features.

"Dean, we don't get along professionally, and we don't always get along socially, but I don't hate you. Not like I used to, not anymore. Because if anything, this has made me realize that we're both just people. This whole hating each other shit? It's stupid. And as for why I came over," he continued, leaning into the counter, "I came over because I lost a close friend years ago, and I know exactly what this feels like. Plus, Jess was an incredible person, and I can't say that I'm not feeling a little bit of what you are too."

Dean nodded silently, lying down on the counter again as the exhaustion of the last two days and their events overtook him yet again. Within a few moments, he was half asleep, so much so that he almost didn't notice it when Novak cradled him to his chest and moved him to his bed, setting him down and sitting next to him. Before his mind could quite wrap around it, though, he had fallen asleep, this time without any dreams at all.