Broken wings || Destiel

Chapter 20

heyyy guess who's back with a new chapter!:)

if you're wondering what i've been up to and why i didn't update earlier, i'm working on editing the older chapters bc i realized some of them are just completely horrendous and i had typos everywhere sooo the first few are now longer and better and i'll do the rest sometime soon:)

thank you so much for reading and voting and commenting and all that cool stuff you guys do, i love you lots and lots xx
~

It didn't take Dean long to get out of the ropes that were holding him down in the chair, considering they were already half undone from their previous activities. Getting up, he saw the shattered glass of the bottle Cas threw to the ground, and it took everything in him to shove those thoughts away, so he concentrated on the task that was waiting for him instead, and walked up to the massive dark door. Soon enough he realized he was in some sort of a warehouse, judging by the tall ceiling and grey walls he was met with after pushing the door open. Looking around he decided he had no company, and stepped out of the dark room, letting his eyes get used to the sudden rush of light for a while. Once the awful feeling of needles stabbing him in the eyes left him, he glanced around, immediately spotting another door that led outside and he jogged over to it quickly, not wasting any time before pushing it open and making his way outside of the building.

He sort of expected to be in some abandoned part of the country, or at least in the middle of some field, or just somehow separated from other people, but apparently Cas - the name burned in his mind as he thought of it - wasn't a proffessional kidnaper after all. He was met with a view of a shopping centre across the street, where people were racing to get the best parking place, and it all felt a bit a surreal to see everything just going on when his own world just got burned to the ground.

Reaching into his pocket, he took out his phone and quickly checked to see if it was still working. Moments later he another surprise was waiting for him when he found out he was only about two miles away from the motel where Sam and Bobby were and he wasted no time before stopping a nice looking old lady who was just passing by and asking her how he could get there. And as he was walking on the side of the road towards the motel, he almost thanked god for making old ladies know everything. It took him about two hours before he was standing in front of the old gray building with a flickering sign informing him the place was open even though it looked like it was about to crumble to the ground any minute, and maybe that was why the sign was there in the first place. He wanted to go straight in but then he realized he didn't know the room number and since checking every single room was out of question, he had to head to the reception where an old man with gray hair and yellow teeth gave him the information he needed, right after bragging about his wife for good five minutes and leaving Dean with mind full of images he definitely didn't need.

Soon enough Dean was standing in front of door number 12 and he wanted to just knock on the damn door but whenever he tried his hand started shaking uncontrolably and his stomach turned upside down at the thought of what might be waiting for him. If the situation was any different, he would kick through the door and race to get to his brother, but right now he knew there was no point in rushing because death was, after all, timeless. So he just stood there, and at some point the sun got hidden behind the clouds and his clothes got drenched from the rain, but he simply couldn't bring himself to care. He stood there, as if the rain could wash away his sins, or maybe all his memories, maybe both; he stood there, waiting for some sort of miracle he knew wasn't going to happen; he stood there, and by the time the sky turned dark, his heart felt cold and empty, his mind was too clouded and his body numb. It was then that he finally raised his hand and knocked on the door, the sound resonating through the silence around him.

Before he even got the chance to take a deep breath, to prepare himself for what he was about to see, the door was swinging open and Bobby was enveloping him in his arms, knocking the breath out of him and leaving him close to no space to move but Dean didn't move. His face was burried in the older man's chest and he couldn't bring himself to look up quiet yet, to see the confirmation of what he knew has already happened.