Athazagoraphobia

Chapter 9

"Dean!" Cas stood up from his seat and made his way toward his husband, wrapping his arms around his torso. He was unsure of how much he'd heard, but he knew it was enough to piss him off. He hated it when people talked about him, even more so when it was behind his back.

After a pause, Cas took a step back, holding Dean at arm's length as he inspected his face. The color seemed to return to his face, but only a bit. His skin was cool to the touch, and his heartbeat and breathing were increased.

"Dean, you shouldn't have gotten out of bed. You should still be resting."

Dean went to respond but was cut off by Jack. "I healed him the best I could. His wounds are healed but are now scars."

"He'll also still feel the effects of blood loss for a while," Gabe interjected.

Cas nodded, then led Dean to the empty seat next to his. Once they were both seated, Mary spoke. "How are you feeling, sweetie?"

After taking a deep breath, Dean stated, "well, I'm exhausted, having trouble breathing, and my heart is beating a mile a minute. Besides that, I'm great!"

Cas rubbed Dean's shoulder, trying to give Dean any comfort he could, which wasn't a lot.

A beat of silence passed before Cas spoke up. "Dean, did you know you had Athazagoraphobia?"

"Well, I knew something was up when I would have panic attacks anytime someone left the room I was in way back when I was 4."

John leaned forward to speak, Rowena having removed her spell long ago; however, a stern look from Dean cut him off before he even started.

"Look, I know what I did was wrong and stupid." Dean looked down and mumbled, "I didn't mean to go that deep."

"You just wanted to feel something other than pure panic and despair," Rowena declared.

Dean didn't know what to say; Rowena had hit the nail on the head. In the moment of his panic, he was overwhelmed. The absolute fear and sadness had consumed him. The night Cas and he had gotten married, Dean had told him everything, including his self-harm. He remembered how Cas had been exhausted at that point that he just grabbed Dean's forearm and said, "Dean, promise me you'll stop. You're not alone, and you never will be again."

Dean vowed from that day that the only scars that would litter his body would be from monsters. And that had been true. However, the stress with Amara and his depression hitting an all-time high, Dean had needed some relief. He'd loathed himself for breaking his promise to his husband, but he'd needed it. And all that had been running through Dean's head as he dragged his favorite knife through his already scarred wrists was I let him down again. He'll never forgive me, and he'll leave for good. If he ever comes back at all.

By the time Dean had tuned back into the conversation, his family was already in planning mode.

"-armacy and get the meds he needs. We should be back in around an hour," Gabe announced, Dean not hearing the first half of the conversation.

"Wait, what's going on?"

Cas gripped Dean's hand in his own as his Mom explained that Jack, Gabe, and Rowena were going to head to the nearest pharmacy and get Dean some anti-anxiety and anti-depression meds.

"Guys, that's not-" Dean tried to refute, but Jack cut him off.

"Dad, we want to. And nothing you say will stop us. You need help, and if you're admitting it, then it's bad. We're going, whether you like it or not."

While Dean was surprised by his son's determination, he wasn't upset. He was proud. Jack was a reserved kid who rarely asked for what he wanted, so to hear him arguing with Dean about something was odd, but not unwarranted.

Dean didn't fight it when he felt a small smirk make its way onto his face; he just nodded toward Jack. "Alright, then," he conceded.

Jack's face broke into a grin before he sprinted to his room to grab his coat.

Cas then stood from his seat, gently pulling Dean up beside him. "I think you should get some more rest. Come on."

Dean, starting to feel his exhaustion and nausea beginning to kick in once more, minutely nodded his head and followed Cas out of the room and back into theirs.

Dean froze when he saw the state of the bed: blood stained the sheets and the comforter, a grim reminder of what he'd nearly done.

Cas seemed to understand his hesitation, so his husband sat him down at the desk then proceeded to tear everything off the bed, stripping it down to the mattress. He tried not to stare at the bloodstained sheets or the bloodied knife sitting on top of the pile.

Dean looked up at Cas as he felt his husband grab his arms; he hadn't realized he was in front of him. He looked down at his arms to see blood starting to seep through; he must've been scratching at the bandages. Cas gave Dean a feather-light kiss to the top of his head, then went to put new sheets and a new comforter on their bed.

"I'm sorry," Dean finally spoke, breaking the tense silence that he could no longer stand.

Cas glanced over his shoulder at him, a sad look on his face, then he looked back at the bed. "I know, I'm sorry, too."

Dean was confused. What in the world could he be sorry for? "What do you mean?"

By that point, Cas had finished putting the bed back together, so he took a seat on the edge facing Dean. "I shouldn't have left you. I should've realized you were on the verge of a panic attack. I should've-"

"Hey, hey, hey, there's nothing you could've done." Dean moved over and sat beside his husband on the bed. "I hid it for a reason. I knew that you were upset and needed space. I also knew that if I had a panic attack, you'd drop everything, including your anger, to make sure I was alright. I couldn't have that, so I waited until you left to break down."

Cas huffed a sigh, knowing that nothing he could say would change Dean's mind, so he instead gripped his husband's hand in his own and held it tight. "I still wish I hadn't cut you off."

Dean leaned over and kissed his husband on the cheek, the only way to console him at the moment. "Well, it's in the past. Nothing we can do about it now."

A knock on the door had startled them out of their own little world. They had forgotten there were six other people in the Bunker with them. Cas leaned over and gave Dean a quick peck on the lips before he went to answer the door.

Sam was standing there, a pensive look on his face. Dean remembered the conversation they'd had all those years ago in the laundromat reading Chuck's 'book.' I can't see your face, but those are definitely your brooding and pensive shoulders. Sam's stance was the same as it had been back then when first learning about the Winchester Gospels.

"Hey, Cas. Is it alright if I have some alone time with my brother? It's been a while."

Dean couldn't see his husband's face, but he could tell a small smile had taken hold.

"Of course. He may be my husband, but he will always be your brother. I shall go check in with Mary and Rowena, see if they need help with something." Cas looked over his shoulder, quickly nodded his head, then turned and left the room.