A Grip On Reality (Destiel AU)

The After-Effect

._.__.~Five Years Later~.__._.

I had changed. I had changed dramatically. I was no longer Castiel Novak, the shy boy in the back of the class. I was now Z, the badass, rather gothic boy at the top of the chain of command.

After Dean, I abolished my fun, nerdy, easy-to-get-along-with lifestyle. Ever since I moved to Ohio in high school, I've been going from state to state, town to town, and since I turned twenty one, bar to bar. Living large. Without Dean.

Even though I had constructed a very secure wall, I knew I would always like him. Perhaps even love him. But there was no going back. He was nothing but a rotten piece of my past life, and I knew better than to even think about a second chance.

When I moved to Ohio soon after we ended things, I made sure to keep to myself. Not in that shy, invisible way. In that if-you've-got-a-problem-with-me-you-can-kiss-my-ass way. In short, I stopped caring.

Caring was the one thing holding me back. No more Mr. Nice Guy. Goodbye, Castiel. Hello, Z.

I had plans, believe it or not. I was going to go to college. I was going to be a marine biologist. I was going to do so much. But that all changed when I made the mistake of trusting someone with my heart. Because he crushed it. And this was the result.

Five years afterward, and I was in some bar. Per the norm. In my usual attire; black tee, black jeans, black combat boots, black leather jacket, even some black eyeliner just to top off the look. Gothic death.

I sat there in a stool by the bar, eyeing all the booze selections while the bartender wiped the counter with a white rag. I took a sip of my scotch every now and again. I let the clamor around me numb my senses until it was all nothing but white noise.

After Dean, I even started hooking up with chicks. It was a whole new me. Z, the straight bad boy.

I glanced to my left where I saw a sweet piece of tail. Long, auburn hair; crimson press-on nails with lipstick to match; a rather obvious nose job; a spray tan that wasn't fooling anyone; a tiny red top with spaghetti straps; a denim miniskirt with ripped black tights; her lips smacking as she chewed gum, staring at her iPhone.

I barely saw any of that as I shamelessly stared at her rack. This tramp was hot enough to melt ice.

I was about to offer her a drink when this big, surly guy came up to her and started making out with her. Either he really knew his way around a whore, or they were sleeping together. It didn't really surprise me; this bitch looked like she could sleep with Brad freaking Pitt if she wanted to.

I downed the last of my scotch and got it refilled. I noticed the way the bartender watched me, as though he were studying me.

"You new in town?" He asked.

I sighed, not interested in conversation at the moment. "I'm new in every town. I'm big on travel. Goin' from town to town, bar to bar, hooker to hooker. Livin' the dream." I took a swig of scotch.

He nodded. "Well, sounds like you got everything in order."

"Fuckin' chaotic is what it is. But that's just how I've spent the last few years. Except the booze. Just turned twenty one this past August. And boy, I am lovin' it." I smirked, taking another swig. A swig, not a sip. Pussies take sips.

"So where're you headin' next? Someplace exciting?"

I chuckled. "Man, I don't even know where in God's name I am now. What, Wisconsin? Minnesota?"

"Close. Iowa. Way up North. Good part of the country."

I scoffed. "Yeah, of course you'd say that. Good publicity is just what every place needs."