A Step Away | Destiel AU

Chapter 5

"I wish you would have died in that fire with her!" Dean could hear his father shouting, feeling the heavy blow to the side of his face. He let out a cry of fear, curling his body into itself. Sam's brown eyes stared at him through the darkness, though Dean could do nothing to console the fear in his eyes.

The next blow hit his chest and he swore he could taste blood as it knocked him onto his back. Yellow eyes stared down at him, his mom's old angel statue in his father's hand. John raised it over his head, coming down and just reaching the tip of Dean's nose before everything around him snapped to an empty blackness.

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Before Dean even opened his eyes, he could feel a throbbing headache, pulsing in his temple and making him grown. He rolled over, his hands fisting the soft, thin sheets underneath him, his face feeling hot as he slowly opened his eyes.

He was greeted with pale blue walls and dark brown furniture. He slowly sat up, holding his head in his hands as he let out a pained gasp, his eyebrows furrowing with confusion as he tried to figure out where the hell he was.

The door softly opened with barely a click, Castiel entering with a glass of water, turning to Dean and giving him a frown. "I thought you'd still be asleep." Castiel commented, giving Dean a sympathetic stare as he held the glass of water to Dean.

"I'm used to hangovers." Dean grunted, taking the glass of water gratefully and swallowing it down. The cool liquid did little to ease his headache, but it helped the dryness of his throat, which he couldn't be more thankful for.

"I don't think that's something to be proud of." Castiel deadpanned, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He wasn't wearing his bartender uniform or trench coat, but a hoodie and jeans. Dean decided that he was definitely like how he looked now.

"What am I doing here anyways? Where is here?" Dean asked, changing the subject as he looked around.

"This is the guest room of my house." Castiel answered, taking a seat on the side of the bed. "I brought you here after you passed out."

"Passed out? what are you talking about?" Dean asked with furrowed brows. He tried to remember that night, getting out of his therapy session, going to the bar then...nothing but a blank fuzzy feeling that he had forgotten something important.

"You had some kind of panic attack." Castiel replied, watching Dean with worry in his eyes. "I didn't know what else to do. You were crying and begging..."

Dean turned his gaze to his lap, refusing to look up at Castiel as he clutched the glass tighter until his knuckles turned white. His heart was beginning to race and a burning sensation formed in his throat at the thought of what he could have said last night.

"I'm sorry." Dean mumbled, taking in a shuddering breath as Castiel placed his hand on his leg. He softly squeezed above his knee, the warmth from his hand giving him some comfort.

"Having some issues is nothing to be sorry for." Castiel replied, his tone gentle and reassuring. "But I'd like to know why it happened, if you want to get it off your chest."