Destiel oneshots

Misery Loves My Company.

CW/TWs: Canon Divergence/Canon Compliant/During Canon/Character Death/Supernatural Spoilers/Depression/Alcohol Abuse Or Alcoholism/Hurt And Comfort/Angst/Dead Bobby Singer/Dick Roman Being an Asshole/Rufus Turner's Cabin/Ambiguous Or Open Ending.

-
-
-

Dean sighed and gulped down the rest of his beer, feeling it try to come back up the moment it hits the back of his throat. He heaves himself up off the couch leaving the empty bottle behind on the shabby coffee table to grab another from the grimy refrigerator. He snatched one letting the door close on its own as he twisted the cap off and tossed it into the unclean sink and swallowed down another sip. After another sigh he hit the lights and stumbled his way towards his new room in the dark. He didn't miss his stop at Sam's room to check on him before entering his own. They were both hurting, but Sam was taking it better. He usually does. He's always been the level headed brother.

Dean sits on his creaky bed in the messy room. Most of it was Rufus’ stuff he didn't bother to move. This wasn't his home. He didn't have one. The only one he had after his mother died was burned down by leviathans who also took the only man they knew and saw as a real father. They had nothing and no one. Sure they had a few hunter friends but that wasn't the same. Dean forced down another swig as he dug the flask out of his back pocket and sat it on the rickety beside table that had a flickering lamp. Wiring in the outlet must be bad or the bulb was going out soon. Dean didn't care either way. He rubbed a hand over his face and drank the last of his beer then sat it next to the others on the floor near the bed in front of the bedside table.

His back hit the lumpy mattress and his head laid on the flat pillow making him look up at the wooden ceiling. He wondered if he would ever get over this death. He's seen so much over his time as a hunter. Hell he's even seen Sam and Cas die. It can't get worse than that but this felt just as bad as losing them. Only this time they may never get Bobby back. There wasn't a way to do that. They couldn't make a deal, they couldn't talk to heaven, they couldn't do anything but sit in a run down cabin in the middle of nowhere wasting away while the world is being taken over by Dick fucking Roman. Dean didn't bother to change clothes or even shuck off his boots.

There's a chance he might have to get up and run. He hoped the beer would numb the pain, but that hasn't worked since he was twenty. He just wanted it to stop. He wanted relief, even if just for a moment. Dean closed his eyes for a second and heard the familiar sound of flapping feathers. His eyes snapped open to see Castiel in the room with him standing near the door. He's hesitant looking. Like he's trying to hide, but he can't. The once righteous soldier who has led a garrison of angels to battle has now been reduced to something akin to a human with severe mental issues. They broke him. He was still an Angel, but they broke him.

“You called?” Castiel asked, looking away as if preparing for the other to yell at him

Dean gulped, feeling guilt run through his veins.
“No Cas. I didn't.” He replied

“You prayed to me. You asked for help.” Castiel informed still lingering by the door,  trying not to invade Dean's space even though there was plenty of distance between them

Dean sighed yet again.
“Well I didn't mean to.” He said knowing He sounded empty inside

Castiel nodded.
“My apologies. I thought maybe I could help.” He said with a tone of regret in the back of his throat

“Unless you can bring Uncle Bobby back or end Dick Roman then you can't help Cas.” Dean told him, feeling his anger fester in his chest

Castiel who still wasn't looking at him shifted uncomfortably.
“I can't do either of those. I'm sorry.” He said