Authors Note: There is only one more chapter after this! I really hope you like it(: thanks for reading and voting! Check out my other story Unbroken!!
She opens her mouth.
Please. Please don't. If you care at me at all, don't. Say no. Say you need to think about it. Say you need more time, say not yet-don't say yes.
Oh God, please don't say yes. You can't say yes.
Please don't say yes.
"Yes," she whispers finally. Sam's hopeful and nervous expression vanishes, only to be replaced by an relieved, unrestrained joy.
Dean stands still. He doesn't move for a long moment. The world doesn't crash at his feet, he doesn't see black, or shout, or lose control.
He's already fallen apart, after all. This is just the wind scattering the ashes.
He doesn't quite feel... Anything. He's numb. He heard the word that came out of her mouth. But at he same time, he's not processing.
Dean watches as Sam slides the ring onto her finger and lifts her up, laughing while he spins her around. He pulls her to his chest and presses a soft kiss to her lip.
The pain.
The pain is... Unbelievable.
He can't breathe. He can't pull his eyes away from them. He stands perfectly, utterly still, the energy in his body seeming to evaporate. Sound suddenly fades into a dull roar and everything around him seem strange and distorted.
Sam looks at them, and Dean barely even notices himself forcing a smile, clapping Sam on the back, and telling him congratulations. He can't even look at her. He just can't. Because he's positive he'll lose it. The last scrap of himself that he has.
His sanity.
But he doesn't. When her eyes meet his, they're cold, unapologetic.
Dean says that he'll leave them to it. And then he walks away.
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Dean motions sluggishly at the bartender, and she hesitantly refills his shot glass.
"You sure?" She asks. "Don't want you to pass out or something."
"Really?" Dean slurs, his mind working like two cogs that don't fit together. "Cause I sure as hell wouldn't mind," he mutters, spinning the shot glass absently, watching the light reflect off of the amber liquid through glazed eyes.
Right when he's about to lift the shot to his lips, it vanishes out of his hand. Confused, Dean flexes his fingers and glances at the floor.
Then it slams back onto the counter, empty, and Dean cranes his neck to look behind him.
Cas is standing there looking furious, and as he meets Dean's gaze his fingers slowly release the glass.
"What are you doing, Dean?" Cas demands in a low voice, his eyes hard and pale like ice.
"Hey, Cas," Dean manages to get out. "Wanna drink me for-join you-join me for a drink?" He belches loudly and a girl near him throws him a dirty look.
"Why are you doing this?" Cas demands.
"What's wrong with you?"
Dean swallows hard. He hasn't forgotten, and the alcohol isn't quite enough to numb the pain.
"Nothing," he slurs, Cas's face seeming to spin around. He looks at the counter, feeling a headache coming on. "Everything," he murmurs, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. "I'm awesome."
Cas's eyebrows furrow in obvious confusion. "Come with me."
Dean stretches, but doesn't move. "Thanks Cas, but you know I don't roll-" he begins sluggishly.
Cas's hand wraps around the collar of his shirt and yanks him to his feet. Dean stumbles, and Cas drags him out of the bar roughly, the customers going quiet at the spectacle.
It's raining outside, the pavement dark and shining. Cas pulls Dean into the alley next to the bar and pushes him against the wall, hard.
"Why are you doing this to yourself, Dean?" He asks, frustrated.
Dean, still completely drunk, just stares at him, blinking several times.
Cas rolls his eyes and shoves away from him, lifting two fingers to his forehead. At once, any feelings of inebriation vanish.
Dean is instantly angry. "What the hell, Cas?" He says.
"You were going to pass out, Dean," Cas says, narrowing his eyes. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing's wrong. Is it a crime now, for a man to buy a friggin' drink?"
"No," Cas says. "But once that drink becomes ten, Dean, then there's a problem." His eyes flash. "Tell me what's going on."
Dean swallows again, kicking at the pavement and raking a hand through his hair. He couldn't. "I told you," he mutters. "Nothing."
"Don't lie to me, Dean," Cas says sharply. "I'm not an idiot."
Dean licks his lips, craning his head to look at the stars, remembering that night on the rooftop.
But he sees nothing. Only blackness.
He takes a deep breath. "Sam proposed," he says finally, unable to meet Cas's piercing gaze.
"To Jane?" Cas asks, sounding surprised.
