The Impossible Happy

Freedom Ain't Hope

Dean was frozen within the words he had just spoken. Entombed in the phrase that had haunted him since his wary youth (The Calvin Klein Underwear add from the 80's? Oh, you know the one). Speaking it, seemed to have broken some type of dam in his brain, a stream of the 'fag thoughts' (as his father kindly put it when Dean was in the 9th grade) now flowed freely throughout the inner workings of his mind. All of the suppressed dreams, hopes, loves, and fears all tearing at the conformity of order and tradition his mind had become.

He had been in denial for too long. He was free. Be it, only to one, ginger headed-lesbian-geek, he was still free. He felt heightened, an all around awareness of the blood coursing through his veins, his place in the world, his reality. It was there. He had hope. 'DEAN WINCHESTER HAS HOPE' screamed his entire body. 'DEAN WINCHESTER COULD BE OKAY'

Maybe that was true after all. People could be accepting, people could be-

"Dean. Dean. DEAN" Charlie shaking him violently halted his train of thought. Dean looked up at her expectantly-wait, up? He hadn't noticed that he had dropped to his knees.

Charlie hugged him, he can feel her tears against his own-wait, his own? He hasn't noticed he was crying. Charlie rocked the crumpled up boy back and forth in her arms.

"It's okay. It's alright. You're alright." She spoke as a mother, not a friend. She knows, after all, the pain and relief of coming out.

"Did you know? I mean, before." Dean sniffled. Charlie smiled.

"I had my suspicions. I mean, you remember the night we watched Brokeback Mountain?" Dean flushed and looked down at the well worn floor. Some memories better not revisited.

"It's completely okay, Dean. You should know that." There is a silence. But not comfortable, as per usual. No, this one was full of possibility, potentiality, suspicion.

"Er-um, Dean?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Does, um, Castiel maybe have something to do with this?-It's okay if it is-I was just wonder--"

"No." He said it firmly. He pulled out of Charlie's reach and began to stand.

"No." This time, softly. Almost apologetically. "I should-um, I should go."

"Wait-what? No. No you're staying. I deserve my money's worth. I missed sex for this. Sit. Talk." Dean looked down at the girl. With a sigh he crossed to the couch, sitting down slowly. Putting his head in his hands.

"I never thought...I'd be able to say it. I've been in denial since, well, up to a minute ago, you know, I was straight. I don't know why or how it came out. But it's just me. That's me. And dammit, I can't help it. My dad. Ha. My dad wasn't a huge fan of it. No, I never actually came out to him, but he just knew. I swear to god he could read minds. Used to toss me around some, right? It was because of it. He really-really scared me straight, I guess. Heh. But now, Charlie, I just don't know. Look at me, I'm an old man. How am I gonna come out now?"

"Dean. When I first really, really realized I was actually gay, it was scary. Not gonna lie. I mean, I had known forever but I never really knew until that moment, you know? It felt so freeing. I told anyone who asked. Hell I probably told a couple who didn't. But I didn't care. That made it not so terrifying, I think. Just telling people.
Dean, you know you can't help it. You're you. No matter your age, so dude, go tell the whole damn world. You're never too old. I mean, Cas, he's over a couple millennia by now, still hasn't come out. And I think we all know by now--"

"Charlie, stop with the Cas."

Charlie sighs "If you really want to stop being in denial, I would actually stop being in denial." Dean glares. Charlie smiles. Dean inhales, giving into the gleeful glare.

"So what? I like Cas. He's my friend who happens to have a nice ass. That's it, though. And he's not gay. He's-he's, well I don't know if he's anything. But he's sure as hell not gay." Charlie says nothing, just grins. She looked like she could burst.

"I FUCKING KNEW IT. I AM A FUCKING GENIUS."

Charlie hastily got up, ran to Dean and helped him up. Practically pulling him to the door, she spoke.

"Come on, Dean, let's go get you an Angel."

*** NOTES: unfortunately, for capitalization on Dean's abusive upbringing and exposure to this kind of language, I felt it was necessary to use homophobic slurs for the purpose of realism. If this is a trigger to any of you at all, please stop reading. It's not excessive, but I never want to hurt or offend anyone on account of language used in this story.