The Story of US

Chapter 33

Dean didn't think long cause he knew he needed this. He had packed his bag in less than five minutes and was on the road in fifteen. He couldn't stay there any longer. He wasn't scared of the cops coming or anything like that, he was scared of Castiel. How much did he hate him right now for ruining his life? He never would have been attacked if it wasn't for his involvement with Dean. He'd ruined everything, and to top it off, Dean was pretty sure Crowley knew he was going to get beaten and set Dean up. His friends were right about that. It was Deans word against Crowley's and his defense wasn't looking to good.

Then Dean comes full circle to the fact that that son of a bitch kidnapped his Castiel and beat him within an inch of his life. His anger grew white hot and full-blown and it took everything he had not to turn around go kill the little dick and all his cronies. The thought was so tempting, but Dean kept his cool, he was trying to put as many miles as he could between himself and the apartment as he could before someone noticed he was gone. He'd call Sammy later and explain, he just had to leave. Dean didn't think he could take Castiel leaving him again, but he also couldn't bring himself to face his blue eyed angel. He was so ashamed and the guilt was almost to much to bear. This was better. Castiel could finally move on with his life after the attack and he wouldn't have a daily reminder of that horrible experience.

Dean had no idea how long he'd been driving or when the tears started, but sometime around dawn he had to pull over. Allowing himself five minutes to give in to his sorrow, he let the sobs wreck hell through his body til he was out of breath, sore and so tired. He had driven all night and was so close to Bobbys he could taste it, but his body and brain were so tired and emotionally he was done. Crawling over to the backseat he let the weariness pull him under, to a place where he was with Cas and none of this had ever happened. A place where Cas could still love him.

After a few hours sleep Dean was on the road again and was pulling into Bobbys by noon. Raising his hand to knock, the door was just about ripped from its hinges as Bobby yanked on the wood.

"What the actual hell ya idjit?" Bobby asked.

Ignoring his question, Dean slung his bag over his shoulder and moved past Bobby into the house. Dropping his gear on the hardwood, Dean poured himself a generous helping of whiskey, drained it in one gulp, poured another and fell into the worn couch as Bobby watched, still waiting for an answer that Dean didn't want to give.

" Can't I just pop in to see you for a few days old man?" Dean joked, but his voice fell flat.

Bobby had followed him and perched on the corner of his favorite antique desk, arms folded.

"Really boy? You think you can bullshit your way past me? Tell me I raised you better than that." Was all Bobby said to him.

Dean knew it was true, just like he knew that Bobby was all caught up on what was going on thanks to Sammy.

Dean drained his glass for the second time and poured a third, feeling his tongue loosen up.

" What time did Sammy call you?" Dean asked.

" around 3 am...woke me up outta a dead sleep freaked as all get out. Now I don't give a shit what you do or don't want to tell me, but I promise you this boy, if you are gonna keep drinking my good whiskey then you are gonna give me some answers" Bobby told him, grabbing the bottle from Deans hands and taking a long swig before handing it back. Sammy had clued him in on what he could, but Bobby knew there was more.

Dean thought for a few moments and decided it might be nice to talk about it. Pouring and killing another double shot he started telling Bobby everything. Bobby was not like his dad, John never liked the fact that Dean was gay, but tolerated it. Bobby never judged. He always listened and gave him good advice, whether he wanted it or not.

After he finished telling Bobby about the fight and all that had occurred, the whiskey was finally taking hold, although that didn't stop Dean from drinking or talking.

" Bobby, I just can't, man I don't know. It was my fault. His heads broke cause he was with me. Man I am toxic and dangerous to people, just like John always said. The best thing I ever did for him was leave." Dean told him as he finished the bottle and got up to retrieve a new one. He was going to try his hardest to kill his pain, cause that's the one thing he couldn't tell Bobby. He missed Cas so much and the thought of never seeing him, it just killed something inside of Dean.

Grab another bottle, drink the sorrow down. Dean thought to himself. He was trying his hardest to drown the look on Castiels face when he was sitting in the car with him. His beautiful Castiel, what wouldn't he do to protect him.

Dean stumbled back to the couch with a fresh bottle. Bobby was texting on his phone,

"Telling Sammy where I am?" Dean asked, a slur starting to hint at the edge of his words. Bobby finished his typing and set his phone down.

"No ya moron, I texted Sammy the moment you pulled in my driveway. No matter your problems, you shouldn't leave the boy like that. I let him know you were here, not safe cause I haven't figured out if I am gonna kick your ass or not yet, but here in one piece." Bobby told him. Dean was only halfway listening to him at this point, the whiskey was doing its job.

" Bobby lets forget about all that and just let it go. Turn on the radio man and lets pretend I am here for fun." Dean said from his spot on the couch. Bobby sat there, not sure if he should give in to his drunk adopted son, but Dean never asked for anything and this was killing him, so Bobby gave in and dropped the subject. Dean needed this little reprieve from his pain, whether it was real or not.

Dean continued to drink for the next few hours and when Bobby helped him up to one of his spare rooms it was all he could do not to let his hands slip and drop him down the stairs.

"Bobby! Bobby, Bobby, you haves to listens to me. Cas...Cas is perfects...hes my wonderful Bobs" for some reason Bobs just caused Dean to lose it and it was not a fun time for all.

"Bobs! BOBS! Bobs I lurve you, you are alesome and mes so glad that yous are here." Dean babbled at him as Bobby helped him into bed at 5 in the afternoon.

"Bobs! Bobby! Listen...Castiel is heaven. Hes MY heaven. Please don't tell him, I not want him to feel the sads" Dean slurred before passing out.

After waiting half an hour to make sure Dean wasn't going to make a drunken run for it, Bobby went about his day. Granted there wasn't much to do, but he had neglected the little he had to be there for his boy. Also, Bobby wasn't an idjit, and Sammy was on his way here now to try and talk some sense to his older brother. Bobby gave him a paternal shoulder, now he needed a swift kick in the ass, and Sammy was the best person for the job.