Family Don't End With Blood /Destiel//Sabriel//Michifer

Torn

Driving through the darkened streets, Cas wasn't entirely sure where he was going. He'd only recently obtained his licence and was definitely not confident enough to be driving at this time of night or, more accurately, this time of morning; the clock on the dash was proudly displaying 02:14, the digits glowing a faded green.

Thankfully, Dean had stopped singing almost as soon as Cas had taken his keys and started up the engine. Even in his drunken state, the Winchester was still aware that someone other than himself was driving Baby, and therefore crossing a rather obvious line.

"Here." Dean pointed out the window to an empty car park, his voice wavering as he attempted the difficult task of sobering up.

Cas slowed, turned the Impala into one of the many deserted spaces, and cut the engine.

They'd been driving for some time and, having passed the outskirts of the town several miles back, Cas was no longer completely sure where they were. The only thing preventing him from swinging the car around there and then was anger, which was still boiling inside him like an unexploded bomb.

In all honesty, Cas felt that he should at least wait until Dean was completely sober before he launched into everything he had to say; but, he thought, if Dean was happy enough to get drunk and spill secrets, he should have no problem dealing with the consequences.

Cas swivelled in his seat and faced the other boy directly, who was now trying hard to focus on his face.

"Dean Winchester," Cas breathed, surprised at how calm his voice sounded, "You complete and utter hypocrite."

Silence. Perhaps he was still too drunk to understand.

"Do you remember, around when we first met, that you asked me why I kept disappearing; why I barely spoke to you? Do you remember that?"

Dean thought incredibly hard for a moment and seemed to recollect a memory of that kind.  He nodded.

"Do you know what you said to me?" It was highly unlikely that Dean would remember this when sober, let alone when he was drunk.

As expected, Dean shook his head.

"You said: 'I know you've got no reason to tell me, just say if you want me to lay off.  Just don't lie to me.'"  Cas quoted the words exactly, having replayed them in his head so many times. 

"You made me feel so guilty," he continued, his voice rising slightly, "About lying to you— I barely even knew you!  And now, now we actually know each other, now that we're supposed to trust each other, and you've been lying to me this whole time!" 

Cas paused.  He felt like he was going to cry, and that only made him frustrated.  Now was not the time.

Dean, on the other hand, was making a huge effort to process what Cas was saying.  He knew from his tone that something was wrong, and he was almost willing the alcohol out of his system so he could properly grasp what was happening.  It was taking far too long for the information to reach his brain and be given some significance.

"It's not like I expected you to spill your life story the second we became friends," Cas started up again, "Or even once we started dating; that wouldn't have been fair.  But when I asked, you could have at least told me something was up, even if you didn't want to explain.  You didn't have to lie!  Do you know how that makes me feel?" Cas sighed, trying to ignore the tears brimming in his eyes.  "It makes me feel like I don't even matter to you.  Like you don't trust me enough to bother telling me the truth.  Like you don't even care."

Crying now, Cas tried to take deep breaths as he wiped his eyes with he back of his sleeves.

"Cas—" Dean moved to reach for his hand.

"No.  Don't even bother." Cas opened the car door and got out, taking the keys with him in case Dean attempted anything stupid, and as immature as it was, he then allowed himself the satisfaction of slamming the door behind him.

~~

The car park was dimly lit; yellowed lights of street lamps dappled the tarmac, the orb of the moon scarcely offering a ghostly-silver glow.

Only two other cars were parked within the small concrete arena, both of which looked to have been abandoned some time ago.  Which meant, Cas realised, that he and Dean were entirely alone.  Usually he would have loved that: just the two of them under a sky full of stars. 

But now? 

Cas wasn't even sure what he wanted now. 

No: he wanted the truth. 

Whatever that was. 

Dean had said more than his fair share back at the campfire, but, as Cas was so painfully aware, he'd been drunk, and so he wasn't sure how much of what had been said could be credited. 

Sighing, Cas tilted his head back to marvel at the expanse of the sky.  To anyone up there, his problems must seem so small and insignificant.  Humans must look like such fragile, sensitive creatures.  Perhaps they were.  Perhaps that wasn't a bad thing.

Cas closed his eyes and, for once, relished the sudden darkness that consumed him.  It was oddly calming.  He focused on the stillness.  Maybe, in all this madness, he'd gotten too caught up and lost his way.  Maybe he'd overreacted.  Dean was everything to him. 

Absolutely everything.

And yet, Cas was forced to remind himself, it seemed that he wasn't the same to Dean.  Surely, if Dean had really cared about him, if he'd have really loved him, he'd have told him.

Cas opened his eyes to the stars and almost laughed.

Love?

When had love come into this?

Except, it did, didn't it?  It did.  And yet he'd never even told Dean the truth. He'd never told Dean he loved him.

Some people might say that, at such a young age, people don't experience love. Not really. Not properly.

But those people were wrong: Cas knew it. He knew it because, to put it simply, he was in love. Castiel Novak was very much in love with Dean Winchester. So in love, in fact, that it almost hurt.

But what did that matter now?

It wasn't as if Dean felt the same way. Cas knew Dean liked him, of course, otherwise they wouldn't be dating — if they even still were — but love? 

Love was an entirely different thing.

~~

"Castiel?"

Cas had been sat on the curb at the edge of the car park, staring into space, for the past two hours. He'd ignored the multiple rings of his phone, declining calls from his siblings and both of the remaining Winchesters.

Dean, on the other hand, had remained in the car.  He'd sat in total silence, waiting for Cas to come back: watching him wandered aimlessly around outside, always keeping him in sight.

As his mind had slowly begun to clear, Dean had started to think of everything he wanted to say; a list of everything he should have said a long time ago.

It wasn't fair that Cas, or any of the others, had had to hear it like that. That was never how it should have happened. Especially not then— when they were taking the time to mourn the loss of a friend.

Dean had smiled sadly to himself, imagining how Alex would have laughed to see him mess up so badly. She wouldn't have meant it in a mean way, of course not, but she had had a knack for finding awkward situations funny, especially at Dean's expense.

Now, having thought of everything he wanted to say, and having sobered up enough to say it, Dean addressed Cas with caution: deliberately using his full name, as he knew he'd lost the right to call him anything else.

Cas remained seated.  Wordlessly, he turned to face the Winchester and waited.

Resisting the urge to hug Cas, or in fact go anywhere near his bubble of personal space, Dean took in a shaky breath and began to talk.