Dear Addiction

Chapter fifty one

When Dean got home that night he was welcomed by darkness, nothing but the moon's low glow lighting the kitchen as he stepped in. It should have been calming, he should have appreciated the silence that had washed over the house, the momentary break from his spiraling life, yet he couldn't stop his hammering heart.

He couldn't find the silence soothing as he brewed himself a cup of coffee.

The sudden contrast from what had been constant chaos only further tensing his body.

His stomach twisting as his socked feet padded across the wooden floor, the mug warm against his hands, filled with a mix of coffee and whisky.

The only thing that gave him any sense of calm was that Cas must have been asleep, the second floor just as dark as the first and Cas's bedroom door closed. Cas was asleep and Dean wouldn't have to see him. No awkward conversation after their fight. No eye contact that lasted far too long, not that Dean usually minded, and definitely no guilt that would surely come as Cas would tilt his head and the drug would burn against Dean's pocket.

No Cas, and instead Dean was left to walk into his darkened bedroom undisturbed. He flipped on the light before making his way across his room and to his bedside table where he pulled open the drawer. His gaze staying locked on the various contents that filled it as he placed his mug down.

Eyes staying there even as his hand went from around the mug and instead to his jeans pocket. The silence hanging around him, heavy as he slid his hand into his pocket. Thick as with shaking hands Dean pulled out the small bag, and raised it so for the first he could see the drug that filled it.

The white powder stared back at him. Familiar and welcoming, traced with a taunt. A tease as the energy, the confidence, the pure euphoria was at the tip of his fingers, only a thin layer of plastic away. He could taste it across his tongue as if the drug already laced his mind. He could feel the way the needle would pinch his skin, the minty spike that would shoot up his spine.

He knew it, and with it staring back, it knew him.

Fuck.

Dean's grip didn't loosen.

Fuck.

Put it down, that had been his plan. Shove it into his bedside drawer where it would stay until Lee came by and he could give it to his friend.

Fuck.

One line, just whatever the bag had to offer. He wouldn't get anything more after that.

Fuck.

One hit

It wouldn't kill him- or maybe he'd be lucky.

Dean's heart jumped at the sudden sound of a door creaking open, and almost immediately the drug was being dropped and the drawer closed. As if it had never happened, as if the thoughts had never crossed his mind.

He took a step back, eyes darting to the Tombstone poster that hung on his wall, then to the doorway. He hadn't wanted it. He wasn't going to do it. No. Dean didn't want it. He didn't crave it.

That thought continued to tick at his mind as he quietly walked back across his room, and towards the hallway, heart still hammering. He didn't want it. He'd been looking, thinking, wondering, not considering.

Definitely not wanting.

Dean lent back into the hallway, squinting slightly as he was just able to just see Jack's small frame through the darkeness.

"Kid," Dean whispered, Jack immediately looking up from Cas's door where he stood, an arm raised, one hand wrapped around the door knob. "Why're you up?"