anonymity was never an option

69: dean

They were walking back into the apartment, when Dean saw a tear slip down Castiel's face. He wanted to do something, but instead he pretended like he didn't see it.

He probably didn't want to talk about it.

He hadn't spoken a word all night.

Castiel took off his tie and threw it on the arm of the couch as he kicked off his shoes. He surprisingly left his coat on, with his hands still inside the pockets. Never once did he turn back to look at Dean.

Yet Dean still watched as he walked across the room, and went straight into the bedroom with out even turning on any lights.

Maybe he was tired.

Dean took his time taking his own shoes off, placing them next to Castiel's on the floor next to the couch, and then placing his keys and wallet on the kitchen counter. He stopped at the counter for a minute and traced the patterns on the granite while he thought about what to do.

It wasn't everyday that Cas ignored him completely.

So Dean walked across the living room and slowly entered his bedroom, looking for the lamp switch. He turned it on carefully, and looked around the room for Cas. And there he found him, a shadow in the middle of the room, lifelessly laying face down on the bed.

Dean moved across the room to his bed, and sat down on the edge next to Castiel, the mattress bending under his weight, causing Cas to lean slightly into Dean's side. He watched his boyfriend take a few short breaths as his arms folded underneath the pillow his face was on.

Was he crying?

Dean reached over and set his hand on Castiel's shoulder, feeling the tense muscles in his neck, as he traced little circles around where the ends of his hair lied at the bottom of his neck. He ran his finger along the edge of where his hair met his skin, and smoothed it back with his thumb.

"Angel, what's wrong? I can't help you if you don't tell me. If you're in trouble that's fine, we'll work it out. If your mad at me just tell me, please just... you're killing me man. I've never seen you like this." Dean whispered down to someone who apparently didn't want to be listening.

He heard a mumble, from inside the pillow, barely audible for him to make out.

"What?"

"Left pocket." Cas said more clearly this time, as he lifted his face from the pillow and turned it over on the side to face Dean.

Without looking at him, he reached over to the other side of his coat and reached into the smooth pocket. Inside he felt a few things, he identified one as being the apartment key, and another as some sort of paper. He folded the latter between his fingers and pulled it out slowly, looking over to Castiel as he brought it towards him.

He unfolded it from his hands and looked down at it with a small smile. In the picture were four boys. He knew for a fact the one with the spoon was Gabriel, he's notorious for looking like an idiot all the time. And he guessed from the dark hair and distinguished jaw line that the one in the middle sitting down in the grass was Castiel.

"What is this?" Dean whispered, looking over at Castiel.

"A typical summer day for the Novak kids. This particular picture was taken on the Fourth of July. It's at our house on the lake."

"Which one?"

"Milford. It's actually quite beautiful in the spring time." Castiel sounded melancholy, although he wore a fake smile as he talked about the lake.

"Who are these two?" Dean said placing his finger on the left side of the picture.

"My brother Michael and his friend David."

"Oh, so that's the notorious Michael huh?"

"Yeah. I was hoping you would've met him by now, but you haven't." Castiel closed his eyes and start to sit himself up on the bed. "And you never will."

Dean felt the faint smile he had from looking at younger Cas in the picture drop as he looked over at the version of Cas sitting in front of him.

"What happened?"

"He died in a car accident last night." Castiel's voice was so weak, so broken. Dean felt the heartbreak from his pained expression.

"Cas I'm so sorry..." He whispered, letting his boyfriends messy hair fall into his shoulder.

He wrapped his arms around his shoulders as he felt Castiel's hands on his back. Dean could sense the pain in every breath he took, the way his shoulders shook with every tiny intake.

He knew Castiel was crying and there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't know the pain of losing a brother, nor could he even fathom to think about it. Losing Sam would be like losing a piece of his soul. He had lost his mom, but he was too young to know what attachment had really felt like. This was the only person who had been there for Cas his entire life, and now he's just suddenly dead. Dean's heart hurt for him.

When was Cas ever going to get a break?