Truthfully (Destiel Romance)

Chapter 2

Riding in silence had always been uncomfortable for me, but then again, I didn’t like talking either, so I resorted to music.

Our money had always been low, credit card scams and odd jobs can only get you so far. I loved my Impala, but it sure did suck up gas. Since we drove all over the god-dam earth, the repairs on her were getting pricy. The radio in small towns was mostly church music, and that's good for some people, but I need my classic rock; that only leaves CD's, and we only had five of them.

I had memorized every song on those CD's; they were passed down to me from my dad, they were one of the few things I had to remember him by.

Sam hated those songs; they had been overplayed, but not me. It wasn't the songs I loved, it was the memories that played in my mind as I listened to them. Memories of me and my dad. He hadn't been a saint, hell, he was far from it, but as much as I hated the word 'love,' and as much as I refrain from using it, even when I knew I felt it, that was the only way to describe my feelings towards him.

Many times when I was with Lisa, and even some other girls, I had felt 'love,' but if I said it, I felt weak, so I never did. Words meant nothing anyway; it was the way I felt, and I didn't need a name for it.

Sam finally spoke up, “Dean.” He said simply, and I knew he was going to ask me a question I had no answer to.

Reluctantly I answered, “What?” Sam sighed, “I know you are not 'OK.'” He said, knowing that these words were going to bring out the worst in me, but I didn't feel like fighting. I felt like listening to the same five albums over and over again, the songs skipping from the scratches they had collected throughout the years and remembering better times, although I only had a small reserve of those memories.

“I know I’m not OK.” I said, the harshness that had entered my voice earlier disappeared.

“Talk to me, if you can't trust me, who can you trust?” Sam said, that same sappy look on his face that he always had.

I took a deep breath. Why were feelings something we had to talk about? What I felt, he couldn't change, so what was the point? He couldn't resurect all the innocent people who had died for us. “Everyone we have ever cared about has died, Sam....or went missing.” I said simply, “Bobby's dead, Castile....he's.....God knows where...” My voice trailed off, why was I talking about this?

Sam inhaled, “I know. Bobby was my 'dad' too, and Cas; he's fine, just off doing something.” Sam said, but I could tell he didn’t even believe it about Cas. “He's gone off before.”

He had been gone for three months now. Casteil had always come when I prayed to him, but lately, I have been praying every night, and still no Cas.

“He's my best friend, hell, my only friend. I'm running low on those these days.” I said, a tear making its way over my cheek, but I pushed it away before Sam saw. If I broke down, I knew he would too, and I didn't want that.

“I just....wish I knew where to look. How to help him.” I said, “but I can't fly anywhere in a matter of seconds like he can.”

“Dean, it's alright, I’m sure he's fine.” Sam said, laying a hand on my shoulder, but I pushed it off.

“Yeah, how can you know that?!” I said, but I didn't want an answer, anything I told Sam, I knew it wouldn't change a thing, it wouldn't help me find Cas.

My hand reached over to the volume and I turned it right up, the song 'Highway To Hell' blaring in my ears, but no good memories came, just flashbacks to all the times I had let Cas down; all the times I could have said 'thank you' for him risking his life for mine, but I never thanked him. All I did was take. I asked for help from him, he would give it without question, and when he asked for help, I was never there for him. Maybe that was why he was gone, maybe he had realized that I wasn't a true friend. I never called him just to ask how he was, I only called him when he could offer me something. That kept me up at night.