for the love of the game / Destiel College AU

The Voice Within

It's hard to write your own story, isn't it?

That's why you're here right now, reading this. Other people's stories draw you in- make you wonder- because you're just not satisfied with your own. Maybe you just want to distract yourself from your life, or maybe you want a different one altogether. Maybe you even love your life, but all of a sudden, your story changes. You think your story's going to go down the scenic road, the easy road, the planned road; maybe it takes another road, and in that road, your path diverges from the people you want to be with.

And in this moment, that was how Castiel felt.

You see, Castiel and Dean, our characters, have a special kind of bond. They have souls that fit perfectly together, like pieces in a puzzle. That bond is not easily broken, but it can be.

For the past year, Castiel has had to list, in his mind, things that he appreciates about living. Small things, maybe a bird chirping in the dawn of the early morning as he heads to practice, the sound of a basketball swishing through the net, the green eyes of a certain roommate. He had forgotten to list these things before, and he had dwelled in a cave of his own making, covering his loneliness with a mask of cockiness. One small thing, though, could send this new world, this optimistic world, this 'finding the beauty in little things' crashing down.

Imagine, if you will, talking to a child and trying to explain optimism and pessimism. Pessimism is seeing the bad in situations, places, or people, and optimism is seeing the good, right? Now imagine that, in your mind, pessimism is simply realism. You expect the worst because you're used to the worst, so you think the worst is the only thing that's real. And you have to be reminded to take joy in the world, to hope for the best, because if left to your own devices, you'll constantly prepare for the worst.

Imagine for me, one last time, that when talking to others, they were painfully fake, painfully optimistic, painfully unreal. Imagine that the fake world couldn't fulfill you anymore, and you had nothing to live for. Imagine being diagnosed with 'social anxiety' because you didn't see a reason to talk to others anymore. Imagine them forcing the diagnosis on you, not noticing that other things were wrong, and causing one more thing to pile on top of your teetering mental health. Imagine you had other wounds that just couldn't be covered with a Band-Aid and a few kind words, instead of putting a bandage over unmarred skin, treating something that's not there. Imagine this, and this is what Castiel felt. Instead of telling people, though, instead of confiding in them, he was forced to draw away and hide behind closed doors. He was forced to wear a mask, forced to smile and pretend everything was okay now that he was 'properly on the road to recovery'. In that loneliness, he developed something else to talk to. He developed something that was even more pessimistic, twisted, and evil than nightmares. He developed an inner voice. That inner voice's goal was to kill him.

And it had almost succeeded.

But Castiel had recovered. He'd gotten better. He'd gone off to college. He'd remembered to delight in life, because life was his story, and it was still being written. There were still words on the pages, ink scribbles, plot twists to come. Life was the one thing Castiel had fought the voice on, because he had much to live for; he had many people in his story. Now, he had one more: Dean Winchester.

And now, the voice was back.

But Castiel wasn't done fighting.