After weeks of being roommates, Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester with the help of their friends begin to realize, they're maybe not just friends. Towards the end things get dark Pretty shitty writing style. I do not own any characters (Moves a little fast because I wrote it as a one-shot, hated it, and expanded it. Enjoy!) TBH, I really hate this story with a burning passion. My other stories are so so much better.

After a major accident, Sherlock is left brain damaged due to lack of oxygen. His limbic system is almost completely dead creating an awful case of memory loss. John doesn't know what to do with a detective who can't detect, and Sherlock just doesn't know anything.

some depression poems, personal poems, writing prompts, maybe i'll throw in a face reveal or something. i take suggestions and criticism.