Stay (Destiel High School AU)

Pain

"Where the hell were you, boy?" Chuck slurred as he took quick, swiveled steps in Castiel's direction, like a zombie. Castiel was frozen with fear. He couldn't speak. He hadn't expected his father to be home so early. He had his father's schedule drilled into his brain, he knew exactly what time his father left and returned every day of the week. He was supposed to work until 10 pm that night, he wasn't supposed to be home at 5. By the time his dad gets home, the house is supposed to be clean and dinner made, but none of that was done. Castiel was panicking. He had fucked up, it was obvious now. He couldn't get out of it this time.

"Huh? Can I not get a damn answer?" Chuck screamed as he got closer to Cas. His father was now so close that Cas could smell his foul breath. Cas immediately shrunk back against the wall to escape his father's reach, but it only made things worse. Now he was trapped against a wall with shattered glass at his feet and his infuriated father directly in front of him.

"I-I was um at school working on a project. I thought it wouldn't be that big of a deal," Cas stammered nervously, trying to hide the fact that he was shaking to the point to where he could barely stand. He knew it didn't matter what his answer was, his dad was always unreasonable. Those words triggered the demon side of his dad. He gave Cas a confused look.

"Not that big of a deal? I came home to a nasty house and no food on the table. I work hard all day, I atleast deserve that much, you good for nothing little bitch. You're just ungrateful. You don't know how much of a pain in the ass you are to take care of. I spend my money on you and your sister. My life would be so much fucking easier if you weren't such a careless little piece of shit!" Chuck screamed in Cas' face while he brought his hand back and swung it at Cas' face. Cas immediately put his hands up to his stinging, bleeding cheek. The impact had made him light headed, causing him to fall to his knees. He landed straight into the pile of broken glass and whiskey and yelped out in pain.

He tried to grab the edge of the table to lift himself up, but his dad held his shoulders down so he that couldn't move and looked at him straight in the eyes. "You deserve to feel this way. You were a mistake, Castiel. You don't belong here," Chuck said with a half smirk then looked down in disgust and let Cas' shoulders go.  "Clean this shit up. Now!" he yelled at Cas as he let him fall face first onto the hardwood floor, taking a step back and pointing at the bloody glass and whiskey around him. Castiel tried to get up but just fell straight back onto the floor. "I said now!" Chuck said as he kicked Cas hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Cas grabbed his stomach and laid on the ground in a ball until he got his breath back and struggled to get back on his feet. His dad stood there for a few more seconds then rolled his eyes and went to his room and slammed the door shut. Once Cas finally stood up, he limped to the kitchen and grabbed a towel and a broom to clean up the mess. He had to do it right that moment and attend to his wounds later. If he didn't his dad would just make it worse.

He quickly swept up the shards and wiped up the alcohol then scurried off to the bathroom. There were little cuts on his knees from the glass. What made things worse was the whiskey. It was stinging the shit out of his knees and he couldn't take it. He hopped into the shower, hoping to relieve some of the pain. He just stood there and cried. He cried because he knew that what his dad said was true. He knew he didn't deserve to live. He knew that no one would miss him or none the less notice that he was even gone. He got out of the shower, feeling worse than he had before he got in.

He went straight to his room and got dressed. He then sat on the bed and stared at the dresser. In his dresser were razors, razors that he swore to himself he wouldn't use again. He looked down at his scarred wrists. "Why am I even here?" he thought aloud, choking back tears. He felt worthless. It seemed that he couldn't do anything right, he always fucked everything up in the end. He went to the dresser and opened the top drawer. There they sat, silently mocking him. With shaking hands, Cas lifted one of the few razors out of the bottom of his drawer and held it delicately in his palm. He knew he shouldn't use it. He knew it wouldn't really make things any better. What if someone noticed the cuts? Stupid, no one will notice. No one cares, Cas said to himself. Of course no one cared. He was nothing. He didn't mean a thing to anyone, at least he didn't know he did.