He Lives In Lawrence || Destiel AU

12 ~ When?

[Dean's P.O.V. A few weeks later]

I lay beneath a silver Ford Fiesta Mark IV, angrily fixing something I'd been working on for so long I could probably have fixed another car, broken it, and then fixed it again quicker. Bobby was working inside the garage whilst I worked outside, not wanting to speak to him - or anyone for that matter.

Since that day in Benny's coffee shop when I'd told Cas that I couldn't see him again, there was a strange rage inside me that felt like it was simmering away just beneath my skin. It felt like one day soon it'd boil out of control. I couldn't tell whether it was an anger at myself, my father, or Castiel. Whichever one, it wasn't doing me any good. Maybe I was angry at all three. I was angry at myself for hurting Cas in any way since we found each other and for being such a pussy and not standing up to my dad; I was furious at my father for obvious reasons; I was pissed at my soulmate for somehow liking, even loving me, despite what a pathetic person I was. And I was angry that he hadn't tried to reach out to me since I'd abandoned him in The Little Coffee Shop after telling him I loved him. It'd been over three weeks without seeing or hearing from him. Despite the fact that I'd made it clear we couldn't see each other, I was somehow disappointed that he'd obeyed my request. What was it he'd said the second time we ever met? He'd told me he wouldn't give up on me. And yet here we were. Apparently I was so hopeless that even his seemingly undeterred determination to love me had failed.

"Dean!"

"Yeah?" I called back to Bobby.

"Go home if you want, I'll fix that up later." Bobby yelled.

I pushed myself out from under the car and stood up, brushing dirt off my overalls. Shoving my tools back in the garage tool box, I began to wonder how Cas himself was doing. Did he miss me? Was he mad at me?

Inside the garage, I shed my overalls and hung them up. Bobby murmured a goodbye and wandered out the back to work on what I'd been unable to complete. Alone in the room, I stalked over to the fridge and grabbed a few bottles of beer, stuffing them in my bag. Maybe I'd stop off somewhere and drink for a while before returning home - after all, Bobby had let me off early today and therefore my father wouldn't realise that I'd been elsewhere as long as I arrived back at my normal time.

So I set off, bag and heart heavy with beer and sorrow. I wasn't quite sure why I felt so desolate. I had told Cas that we weren't to see each other - made it very clear - and yet here I was yearning for him, every second of the day. There was hardly a moment that passed when thoughts of him didn't consume me. And it was eating away at me, making me feel raw and drained.

All I yearned for was to be close to him, to feel his body press against mine; to feel his soft, warm fingers tangle between my rough, calloused ones; to run my hands through his messy hair and my lips across his soft skin. God, I needed him so badly. I craved him.

[Cas' P.O.V.]

I didn't know where I was going. I didn't know what I planned to do there - wherever "there" was. I just knew that I wanted to escape. But how was that possible when the very thing I was trying to escape was in my own head?

My hands gripped the steering wheel with a force that made my wrists strain and my knuckles turn white. A mask of anger contorted my features - I wasn't even angry, just trying to conceal my sadness.

Three weeks. Three whole weeks since I'd heard from Dean. At the time, when he'd declared that we shouldn't see each other, I hadn't thought he'd been this serious. No texts, written messages. Nothing. My heart was convulsing in agony from being apart from him for so long, so how was he managing? Maybe he was fine. Maybe he'd been lying when he'd told me he loved me.