A Series of Destiel One Shots

24 - Sobering Up

Sobering Up

(A/N: Can I apologise in advance for this? Thanks. Hopefully the innuendo's will make up for the angst.)

Dean approached the abandoned house, the grey wooden exterior looked like it was really to crumble to the ground. In the town the house sat on the outskirts of there had been spontaneous combustions and the towns people had been having severe mood swings. Whatever was in the house had been throwing out weird events for the past week, coupled with the fact that the back door was unlocked when Dean checked it, told the hunter that it was being reckless and careless.

Dean pulled out his gun, holding it up as he stepped into the house. He could feel energy prickling in the air where the thick scent of alcohol lingered. As Dean moved through the house he could see why it smelt that way, hundreds and hundreds of discarded bottles were scattered all over the floor. He tiptoed through the house, the number of bottles increasing as he went. Dean would say it was an angel but Metatron had taken them all up to heaven and locked them in. He felt the stabbing sorrow of missing his friend, and love, Castiel but pushed it down to focus on the hunt. The quiet hum of someone humming Claire De Lune came from a room to the right of Dean, the door was open so he approached it and prepared himself for whatever he was going to find.

***

A feeling of deep grief over came him, tears springing to his eyes, as Dean looked upon a crumbled man wearing a dirtied trench coat and he had a beard forming on his face. Dean accidentally kicked one of the bottles and cursed. The man looked up, his blue eyes glassy from the drink, swollen and red from crying. The man's face crumpled when he looked at Dean though,

“I've had enough, no more hallucinations.” Castiel picked up a gun lying on the floor next to him and pointed it at himself.

“Hey, hey, hey, Cas!” Dean yelled, racing across the room, smashing a couple of the bottles as he walked over them. “It's me. It's really me.”

“That's what you always say and you always manage to talk me out of it. I don't want you to talk me out of it this time.” Dean grabbed Cas' hand, stopping him from putting his finger anywhere near the trigger, and uncurled his fingers from around the handle. He clicked the safety on and threw the weapon across the room. “Please, just let me die. I don't want to live without you.” Cas sobbed, leaning towards Dean and buried his head into the hunters chest. “I can feel you, hear you, see you...why did you have to leave me, Dean?”

Dean gulped, feeling guilty, as he wrapped his arms around the angels sunken form. “I'm not a hallucination,” he took out his knife and sliced it across his arm, blood oozing out. “See.” Cas grabbed Dean's arm and wiped his hand across the wound making it sting.

“How...what...why...how?” the angel stuttered, his voice even more gravelly than usual from the drinking and crying.

“I could ask you the same thing. I thought Metatron had taken you to heaven with everyone else?” Castiel shook his head, his hands roaming over Dean's face as if he was blind.

“He thought this could be my punishment, living with the grief of your...death.” he paused for a moment “Why aren't you dead, Dean?”

“You know me, unkillable. You would have known this if you had of called to tell us you were still on Earth!” Dean felt a little bit angry now.

“I went to the bunker and neither of you were there. Metatron had told me you were dead, that he had killed you.”

“You didn't think of finding Sammy? You didn't think that he might be making a deal with a demon to get me back while you sat here and drank yourself into oblivion?”

“I'm sorry, Dean, I wasn't thinking.”

“No, you're right. You weren't.” Dean took a couple of deep breaths “I missed you though.” he continued in a small voice.

“I don't even need to say that for you to know what your loss did to me.” Dean cupped Cas' cheek, pressing their foreheads together. Castiel blushed, “I'm sorry about the beard.”

“No, I kinda like it.” which only made Cas blush harder, “Do you even know how you've affected the town?” Cas frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“People have spontaneously combusted and everyone's had really severe mood swings...I'm pretty sure it's because of you.” confusion crossed Cas' face.

“I guess it was the drinking, it took a lot of alcohol to stay drunk and numb the pain, even if it didn't ever get rid of it. I guess I lost control of my grace and it kind of leaked out into the town.”

“Yeah, I can feel the energy in here.” Dean commented, shuddering at the almost liquid feeling of Cas' grace.

“Dean, slap me.”

“What?!”

“Slap me. Now.”

“No.”

“Please?” Dean lightly tapped his hand on Castiel's face, resulting in a bitch face that Dean had never seen Cas use before. “Harder.” Dean tilted his head as if to say 'you asked for it' before striking his hand across Cas' face a lot harder than necessary. Dean felt the energy disappear from the room though, and Castiel gasped as his grace snapped back into his vessel. He leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to Dean's lips in thanks.