Anatomy of a Broken Soul
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- Votes 7
- Parts 7
Dean Winchester was kidnapped when he was seventeen. One might consider it typical- a drunk and pissed off teenager walking home through the 'bad part of town.' That's not to say that it didn't cause a lot of grief, especially on behalf of his family. But after weeks of searching and no leads, life went on as it always did, and the police were forced to stop looking. On average, 99% of abducted children are dead within the first 24 hours. It was easy to speculate that Dean fell into that 99%- at least, for the police anyway. For his parents and his brother, they lived an odd life of not knowing whether they should be hoping to see Dean again or merely hoping to find his body. Maybe his kidnapping wasn't remarkable, but maybe what happened after that was.
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As soon as it was done, he left. He left Dean's body and Dean left the room. He knew that he couldn't leave Cas like this, shouldn't leave Cas like this, but he couldn't stay, he couldn't look at him, couldn't touch him, couldn't see skin his own hands had left blemished and tainted and torn, couldn't see the angel violated and hurt and broken by his own body. The door unlocked the moment he had done what he'd come for, had taken and destroyed and left. It flew open, revealing Sam who he knew had been furiously beating against the wood while- while...oh God, he was gonna throw up. His brother looked shocked at the picture that unfolded in front of his eyes, his features contorted in disbelief and disgust at the crumpled and naked figure in the centre of Dean's mattress. Dean's mattress. In Dean's bed. In Dean's room. He felt sick.
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