Dear Addiction

Chapter fifteen

"-And nothing else matters."

"Never cared for what they do."

"Never cared for what they know."

"But I know."

"So close, no matter how far."

"It couldn't be much more from the heart-"

"Metallica?" Dean's gaze moved from his guitar and to his brother, who'd just stepped onto the deck. Sam placed a mug next Dean, giving him an uncertain look before taking a seat on the other chair with his own mug. "Shouldn't you be writing your own songs?"

He shrugged, running his hand slowly across his guitar. The wood smooth to the touch, every ingrave, and small dent. At the bottom just below where the strings ended his name had been carved in perfect cursive. Slowly Dean put it down at his feet before picking up the hot mug, wrapping his fingers around it in an attempt to warm them.

"Didn't think you listened to Metallica." Dean took a small sip from the mug, grimacing at the hot coffee, "thought you were all Taylor swift, and Katy Perry."

Dean could practically hear the eye roll from his brother, as a small smirk played at his own lips.

A peaceful silence fell between them though it lasted little under two minutes before Sam cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat. "Is everything alright with you?" Other than the fact that it had almost been three days since he had last gotten high, and the cravings were all he could think about. The bruises on his arm became increasingly itchy, while his skin froze, and his body ached with something that couldn't be described as completely physical. Or more importantly that'd been little over two weeks since him and Castiel's fight, and he hadn't seen the man since.

Though all those thoughts crossed his mind Dean didn't say anything, instead looking down to the mug that rested in his hands. Most if the mug was white, expect for the bottom half where a small field of flowers had been painted by Jess. She had painted all their mugs, some with small bubbles, others as sunsets. Sam had originally wanted to sell them when Dean had first arrived, though after the first one was sold he had quickly changed his mind.

"Dean?"

He looked up to Sam. His eyes darted across his brother's worried expression for barely a second before moving to something easier to look at, the street below. Sitting in almost silence, the kind that only came with Saturday mornings.

"I'm fine!' Dean said, "Why wouldn't I be. My life's fucking great."

"Dude- Nothing else matters? That's Dean Winchester's version of an emotional break down."

Dean sighed, he took another sip from his coffee before placing it onto the glass end table. "Don't you have counseling on Saturday?"

"I cancelled a few nights ago."

"You're a son of a bitch"

Sam shook his head in what Dean could only assume was in disappointment, "and you're avoiding my question."

"And you still have a fucking cat taped to your face!" Dean cried, gesturing towards Sam's beard. It made him look old, much older then twenty six, with his sunken brown eyes, and ashen skin that hadn't quite returned to its usual tanned tone.

"Dean!"

"Fine." He took a deep breath, glancing to the wall that separated Sam's deck from Castiel's. "I asked Cas about Logan." Sam opened his mouth to talk, though Dean quickly cut him off, "I know! You told me not to but I'd be a shit friend if I didn't do somethin', now Cas won't even talk t'me! It's like I killed the guy or somethin'."

"You shouldn't have said anything"

"I know," Dean sighed, pressing his hands to his face and leaning his head back, letting out a dramatic groan. "I don't get why I'm the one being punished!"

He could hear the shuffling of his brother, followed by the soft clinging of the mug being placed on the table top. "Could you stop being dramatic for at least five minutes?" With his hands still to his face Dean shook his head. "Well I told you to stay out of things, and maybe if you would listen to me for once you wouldn't have gotten yourself into this mess!"

"I didn't fucking ask for an I told you so," Dean snapped. He sat up properly, green eyes glaring at his brother, who stared back in the same frustration. Neither spoke until Dean took a deep breath, letting his harsh glare falter. "Why don't ch'you want t'help him?"

Sam's own expression fell, his brown eyes wide as he looked to Dean. "Of course I want to Dean," Sam said, his voice containing a slight pain to it, "I've tried."

"What did he tell you?"

"What?"

"You said he talked to you."

Dean didn't look away, even when his brother glanced down, Sam taking a hesitant breath before speaking. "One day, about a year ago- I don't know things must've gotten really bad cause Cas showed up at my apartment and asked me to take Jack for a bit. Jess, and I, neither of us thought much of it; we'd heard the yelling, lots before then, but it never occurred to us until Cas came back for Jack."

Sam took another hesitant breath looking up to Dean, this time Dean's own gaze dropping. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, the chill of the October air blowing across his bare arms, though it wasn't the reason for the cold feeling that took over. He forced down a breath, despite the lump in his throat, allowing himself one more breath before he looked back to his brother. "He looked awful, exhausted, and I don't know it kinda just clicked after, he didn't need to say anything, and I'm pretty sure he knew we figured it out."

"I tried to help more after that, I offered to take Jack, but Cas doesn't trust anyone with him. The more I tried, the less I saw him, and the worse things got."

Dean shifted slightly in his seat, as the silence fell between them. Thick and suffocating as the facts that Dean had begged so long for, were laid out in front of him.

The silence ticked on, for one breath.

For one heart beat.

And then another, and another. The silence becoming almost too toxic to sit in. Dean wanting to say something, though the words never seeming to part his lips.

"Dean," Sam finally began, "he doesn't need you to play hero, he can handle things on his own."

"But he doesn't have to!"

Sam's face dropped slightly, whether in shock, or exhaustion Dean couldn't tell, or be exactly sure why it happened. "You amaze me."

"Thank you?" Dean questioned. He gave his brother a confused look, only getting a shake of Sam's head in response.

"Just be there for him, that's the best thing we can."

Dean nodded in understanding. He picked up the mug once again bringing it back to his lips and taking a small sip of the coffee, the bitter taste harsh. The conversation died out and instead both brother's watching the traffic below, sipping their drinks, until Dean's mug was half empty, and the silence had become boring.

"You know," Dean began, getting the attention of his brother." You've grown wise since that cat showed up on your face."

- - -
Happy pride month everyone!!!! I hope your excited for the month to come! During this time I hope you'll take an effort to support smaller queer and trans creators over corruptions. Especially to queer and trans people of colour, who we must be supporting more then ever! I love you guys so much and I hope you're getting to celebrate with supportive people! If not I will be your mother/father/best friend!

Before I say goodbye I'd also like for us to remember prides history: THE FIRST ONE WAS A RIOT (began by trans women of colour)

Have a lovely pride, and stay safe
Lots of love, Paige