Dear Addiction

Chapter twenty four

Trigger warning:
Drug use

"When do we go back!" Ellie cried as they walked down the hallway, jumping and occasionally pulling at Dean's arm that held his duffle bags. On her head she wore her glittery mickey ears, something she had refused to put in their bags and instead wore on the plane, and then through the whole drive home.

Dean glanced back at his brother who walked behind with John. "I don't know!" Dean cried, raising his voice to match the young girls. As they came up to Sam's apartment Dean used one hand to dig through his pocket, finding his key, "You know if you take my bags, we'll get to go back sooner."

"Really?"

Dean nodded. He offered the young girl his bags who happily grabbed them, running into the apartment after Dean pushed the door open. John sooned followed, leaving Dean, and Sam to stand alone in the hall, "Are you goin in?" Sam asked, giving Dean a look that he didn't quite understand.

"I'm going t'check on Cas," Dean replied. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, as he glanced to Cas's door. He missed the other, more than he would ever care to admit, even to himself. "You know, make sure he's all good, and stuff like that."

Dean took a step backwards, towards Castiel's apartment as Sam nodded in understanding. "Don't bother him for too long."

"I'm a pleasure to have around!"

Sam only shook his head before walking into his own apartment.

Dean turned away, heart hammering, ringing through his ears. He stopped in front of Cas's apartment, raising his fist and giving a loud knock against the wood. A breath parted his lips, his eyes glancing to the floor, studying the ugly floral printed carpet that had been chosen for the building's hallways. Dean shifted his weight from one foot to the other, pushing his hands into his pockets, then taking them out.

When at least a minute had passed, with no answer, other than the faintest sound of shuffling through the door Dean raised his hadn. He knocked, though once again no reply came.

Dean frowned, stepping closer to the door. "Cas?" He glanced towards the peekhole that was just above the apartment number. "Cas?" Dean repeated, knocking for a third time.

"Okay!" Dean called through the door, leaning slightly closer to it. He swore he could hear talking through it, or maybe a tv. "I'm going t'get goin'." Dean turned walking back to Sam's apartment, "It was great talkin' to you" he mumbled to himself.

When Dean stepped back into Sam's apartment he tossed his keys and wallet on the counter, his hand then going to his jacket's inside pocket, where he felt his fingers brush against the familiar metal. "I'm havin' a shower," Dean called to his brother, who was spread across the couch, phone in hand. 

Dean didn't wait for a response instead walked through the apartment and into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He then moved to the shower turning on the water, though instead of stripping he went to cabinets under the sink, where he sank to his knees, and opened the doors, revealing the sinks pipes. It was a spot he had used to hide things as a kid. Extra money he didn't want his dad to find, report cards, presents for Sam, anything small enough that would fit in the nook between the pipes, and now that meant drugs.

He stuck his hand in, his hand brushing across the metal pipes, feeling around until he felt the familiar plastic bag.

After pulling out the bag of cocaine Dean stood. He placed the small bag on the sink rim, followed by the tin container that had been stored in his inner pocket. A breath parted his lips as he started, eyes wandering across the syringe he'd taken in his hand.