Dean sat in the waiting room at the hospital, trying to hold back tears as he watched his heart fade. As he looked around, he saw a few people around him.
There was one man who looked to be about 30, his face buried in his hands as a woman rubbed his back. Her cheeks were stained with tears and running mascara, like she had been crying for a long while.
Another pair was a little girl and her grandmother, sitting off in the corner. Dean could vaguely hear their conversation in the deafening silence.
"Will Papa be okay?" the girl asked.
"I don't know, honey," the grandmother replied, "It's in God's hands now."
"If Papa goes to heaven, will he be an angel?" the little girl questioned.
"Yes, darling. He'll be your guardian angel."
Then, finally, the man sitting two seats away from him. He looked about Dean's age, with short blonde hair and blue eyes. He was tapping his feet nervously and biting his lip. The thing Dean particularly noticed was his fading heart.
"Soulmate?" he asked suddenly, looking over at Dean.
"Yeah," Dean replied, biting the inside of his cheek.
"Me too," he said quietly, "Cancer. My baby has cancer..."
"I'm sorry," Dean whispered.
"What about you?" The man choked out, obviously holding back a sob.
"Attempted suicide," Dean admitted, "Some dicks beat him up and... H-He slit his wrists..."
The man gave him a pitiful look as a nurse came into the room.
"Dean Winchester?" She called. Dean abruptly stood up, his heart lurching forward. "You can see him now."
Dean immediately broke into tears as he followed the nurse. He went into Cas' room, where the Micheal and the Novak family were sat.
"Oh, Cas..."
Dean looked at the boy in the bed. He was hardly recognizable, with his bandaged wrists and oxygen mask. The heart rate meter beeped slowly, and the sound alone could drive Dean mad. Cas' chest rose and fell in short, frail breaths.
"Cas? Wake up!" Dean pleaded, his voice breaking.
"He's in a coma," the nurse told him.
"No... H-He can't be. He can't!" Dean cried, running over to Cas. "Cas, wake up! Wake up, baby! Please!" Dean cradled Cas' head and shook his arm.
"Dean, stop!" Lucifer yelled, grabbing Dean's arm.
"Don't touch me!" Dean growled, shoving Lucifer away.
"Dean, you're gonna hurt him!" Micheal snapped. Slowly, Dean realized what he was doing and backed away, sliding down the wall into a black abyss of sadness and despair.
"I just want my baby back," Dean whimpered, tears falling on his cheeks.
"I know, Dean," Micheal sighed, "We all want him back."
--
After a while, everyone left.
Everyone except Dean.
He just sat in a chair, watching Cas and listening to the heart rate meter.
Beep... Beep... Beep...
It was maddening.
Still, Dean sat there, thoughts racing through his mind. Without Cas, Dean felt empty, like his life had no meaning. He didn't feel anything really, just... angry, and distraught.
Helpless.
The light in his life was gone, and so was the joy. It was like when Cas wasn't with him, the life had been sucked out of him. All that was left was a bitter taste in Dean's mouth, along with the heartbroken feeling that was constricting his ability to breathe.
He wondered how he'd survived before he met Cas.
Finally, Dean broke the silence.
"Cas... please."
That was all he said.
Then, he went home.
--
Sam had many questions, which Dean ignored. He blocked out everything and everyone that got in his way. He just went to his room to be alone with his thoughts, to be alone with the voices in his head.
This is all your fault, A voice told him. If you had made him ride home with you, he would have been face. It's on you, Dean. Everything. Everything you touch breaks. Cas, Sam, Dad... Your existence is a nuisance.
"Shut up!" Dean screamed, punching his wall. He threw everything he could find on the floor in a fit of unbearable rage.
Knowing Cas wasn't okay drove Dean insane.
It made him sad. It made him angry. It hurt more than anything ever had.
Dean Winchester felt like he'd been shot in the heart knowing he was the cause of Cas' pain.
--
Dean Winchester is a sorry excuse of a human being.
Dean Winchester is nothing but a self-loathing piece of shit.
Dean Winchester is going insane.
Dean Winchester is too angry to function.
Dean Winchester is a as worthless as a white crayon.
Dean Winchester is a screw up.
Dean Winchester is an asshole.
Dean Winchester means nothing.
Dean Winchester is nothing without Castiel Novak.
Dean's pencil snapped before he could write anymore reasons why he thought he was stupid. In his mind, there were many more.
--
The next day, when Dean went to school, he ignored Charlie, he ignored the teachers, he ignored Sam.
The only thing he couldn't block out was Alastair.
"Hey, look! It's faggot number two!" he laughed, pointing at Dean.
That crossed the line. That drove Dean over the edge.
He had reached his boiling point.
Dean slammed Alastair against the lockers. "Don't you dare touch Cas again, you hear me?! If you hurt him again, I'll kill you! I'll rip your fucking heart out!" Alastair nodded, panicking with fear. Dean pushed him to the ground and punched him repeatedly before stuffing him in a locker.
Dean looked around the hall at all the shocked and terrified faces. "If anyone so much as looks at Cas in the wrong way, you'll end up like him. Get it?"
The whole hall agreed in sync.
"Good. Now go to class, you assholes," Dean growled. Everyone went into a state of frenzy, trying to avoid Dean at all costs. He laughed and knocked on the locker Alastair was in.
"How's it going in there, Alastair?" Dean asked.
"It's very... cozy," he answered.
"Good, because you'll be in there for a long time," Dean walked over to Charlie. "Don't let anyone open that locker, understand."
She nodded. "Got it. Where are you going?"
Dean looked at her. "I'm going to see Cas."
