Why Is The Sky Blue?
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Word Count: 594
Tags: Angst, Shitty Coping Mechanisms, Dean Winchester's Staggeringly Low Self-esteem, Dean Winchester's Abandonment Issues
[please note: THIS IS NOT CASTIEL HATE, just another angsty dean POV coda to S15ep03 because i can't get out of our poor boy's fucked-up, self-hating head]
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Fuck him. Fuck Cas.
Fuck him and his stubborn-ass attitude. Fuck his über-earnest bullshit and his Hello, Dean. Fuck him. Fuck his I always try to do the right thing—'cause what fucking use is it when it ain't ever the right fucking thing? Fuck. Him.
Jesus, all those times...
Bailing after Sam saved us from the end of the world
Pulling the kid from the pit, leaving him soulless... and me alone in the dark
Leaving, choosing Crowley over us, over me
Going and betraying my trust to become an omnipotent dick
Releasing Leviathan and leaving me to think he was dead
Running off with the goddamn bees instead of staying and helping me
Abandoning me in Purgatory, then letting me go
Going off to Naomi and trusting her over me
Running out on me to choose Metatron
Running out on me by saying fucking yes to Lucifer
Running out on me for Kelly
Running out on me for Jack
Running out on me for Belphegor
Running out on me...
And I mean, my Mom died because he didn't trust me. My Mom fucking died. Again. All because Cas… 'cause Cas didn't trust me, didn't believe in me.
So yeah, I reminded him. Reminded him of those times he wronged me, all the times he's left me. I told it like it is. And what did the fucker do with it? He left. Cas up and left, big fucking surprise.
I know he's gone for good this time—and if I'm honest with myself for just one hot minute? I don't really blame him. I'm an asshole.
But I said that shit to hurt him 'cause I was hurting. Don't mean I actually meant any of it. I pushed, hard, to see if he'd stay or go... and he went. He left. Cas left me. I know I ain't worth staying for but how could he fucking leave me? Like, it's not as if I don't know how much he's done for us—for me—course I know. I know that every single time he's gone and fucked-up, it's always with good intentions. Also know that I fuck up too, a lot. Hell, we all do. But me? I know I'm the worst. I get it. I know ain't got the right. But I was hurting. I am hurting.
I hurt so bad now he's gone I can hardly fucking breathe. Longing? Shit, that's—it don't cover it. Is there a word for a hundred fucking thousand times more intense than overwhelming? 'Cause this is worse than when he was dead. Because this time, Cas is choosing not to be here. Want him back so much I wanna puke; I feel sick from dawn till frickin dusk. And I keep seeing him, everywhere… everytime I clock a shock of dark hair or tan coat; anytime I hear a voice anywhere close to velvet rubbed up agaisnt sandpaper; whenever I see blue. I MEAN, THE GODDAMN SKY IS BLUE FOR FUCKS SAKE! The hell am I supposed to do with that?
Guess I'm Dean Winchester so I'm supposed to keep on keepin' on, that's what. Just get on with it. Keep truckin', you know? Keep workin', keep eating trash like I'm a goddamn human dumpster. 'Cause I don't know how to mourn or grieve something, never been given even half a chance to try. Just gotta keep going. Stay angry. The anger works better than desperation. Can't do that; the breaking apart. Can't afford to. Gotta just crack on and hate hard on Cas or my heart'll break so hard that I'll die.
So. Fuck it.
Fuck him. Fuck Cas.
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