[DESTIEL] Not A Diary (trigger warning)

Chapter Two: Singing Birds

A/N: aye bbys I'm back. Ik ik its been like 8 years ok whejrkrn I'm sorry. Also what should I call you guys??? Leave a comment pls frens.

To the story

//Dean

He'd always find it uncomfortable when he took his clothes off to change or shower and was faced with the harsh reality of the marks on his skin. He didn't understand how society could romanticize something so brutally disturbing - self harm. There was nothing beautiful about cutting. What's truly beautiful is when you no longer add to those scars. Then they represent hardships that have been fought through.

Dean hated to shower. He hated to see that constant reminder of depression and weakness, hated the memories that flooded his mind when he saw it. Sometimes he would purposefully avoid the bathroom entirely so he didn't have to look at it. Even so, he'd still end up thinking about it. But he abhorred his journal. He would only write in it whenever he was seriously angry at the world or incredibly bored. Because of this, Dean had to resort to something else.

But what could he resort to?

He decided to find out. Neither his brother nor his dad were home, so he had complete liberty and freedom. Dean chose to go for a walk.

Making things up as he went, he remembered he brought his earbuds and phone, and guessed music might calm him down. Now, normally, Dean listened to classic rock, but today he was feeling kind of sappy. Therefore he chose the song All I Want by Kodaline.

The dulcet music did ease his crisis, but only a tad. Dean tried not to think as he closed the door to his house, setting out on the sidewalk. He shoved his phone in his back pocket and buried his fists in his front ones, kicking a misplaced rock farther down his path.

As Dean passed the other run down houses on his street, he let himself get lost in the music, wishing never to be found again.

Dean passed an orange-striped tabby cat that was surrounded by mewing kittens. He smiled, but only a bit, thinking about the children he might adopt or have some day, depending on his situation.

Once he reached town, he wandered around aimlessly. He came across a playground, the one he used to take Sam to. On Main Street, he passed many establishments like a barbershop, a coffeeshop, a pizza place, and a drugstore.

Dean kept walking until he showed up at an alleyway. Something was different about this one, though. To a normal passerby, nothing was there except a few pieces of litter. However, something caught Dean's eye: a glint of silver on the wall. Cautiously, he stepped towards the shining object. Once he was close enough to see, it became obvious to him that it was a doorknob. On the door was a few posters and a sign that said 'Singing Birds.' It said that it was a karaoke bar.

There were hours listed underneath it:

Mon-Sat: 11:00 a.m. - 2:00 a.m.
Sun: 12:30 p.m. - 2:00 a.m.

Huh. They're open.

He hesitantly wrapped a hand around the rusted doorknob, anxious to see what awaited inside. With a sight push, light was streaming into the alleyway and soft blues music enveloped him in a feeling of calmness and relaxation. Glancing around, he noticed a few things about the room. There was a pool table over in the corner, tables littered here and there with a few people sitting at them, five or so TVs, a bar, and a big stage with a screen behind it, a microphone, and a stool. Behind the bar stood a petite blonde who was cleaning up some glasses with a rag. She and a customer were making small talk, Dean guessed.

A small red headed girl (Anna, not Charlie) was singing 'My Way' by Frank Sinatra. Dean felt comfortable and at home in this place. He made note of coming back.

Since he didn't really have anything to do, he sauntered over to the bar and took a seat at a stool, flashing a toothy grin at the blonde. She waved goodbye to whoever she was talking to and eyed Dean up and down before coming over.

"You been here before?" She asked, voice sweet with a slight southern accent.

Dean shook his head. "First time. I think I might come back though. I'm Dean," he introduced himself, holding out his hand.

Her softer, much smaller hand clasped his. "Jo," she replied, shaking firmly. "Can you sing?"

"Not that well." Dean had always doubted his abilities, but the truth was, he was amazing. He'd always be humble, though.

"Oh, c'mon, I'm sure you can," Jo urged him, her curly  hair bouncing when she rocked back and forth on her toes. The red head was just finishing her song as Dean contemplated.

They sat in silence for a minute until he finally decided and spoke up. "You know what? I will." He was confident and strong.

She grinned proudly as he headed towards the music box on the stage, clicking on the song he was listening to earlier and moving over to centerstage.

Dean waved at the crowd and stood awkwardly until the song picked up.

Then he began to sing.

"All I want is nothing more

Than to hear you knocking at my door

Cuz if I could see your face once more

I'd die a happy man, I'm sure."

Everyone respectfully paid attention to Dean, but he didn't care about them. He focused on the words tumbling from his lips.

He imagined he was singing to Cas, especially when he got to the chorus.

"But if you loved me, why'd you leave me?

Take my body, take my body.

All I want is

And all I need is

To find somebody

I'll find somebody

Like you."

Near the end of the song, Dean became more confident. He hadn't realized he'd been closing his eyes the whole time, but when he finished, he slowly opened them. The crowd errupted in loud cheering and clapping. It was a lot of noise for such a small place.

Dean smiled and waved, then walked off stage. He took his seat back at the bar and grinned pridefully at Jo.

"You were amazing!" she praised, sliding him a Pepsi. "You should come back more often. We could use some good singers and publicity. Tell your friends!"

"Thanks... I will." He obliged the pop and took a big gulp, his nerves calming down.

A hand touched his shoulder and he turned abruptly. Standing next to him was.... Castiel? Yeah, Cas was there, in a navy blue crew neck sweatshirt and dirtied up jeans, with tousled hair, looking fine as hell as always. Wait, does this mean he watched Dean perform?

"You did great. Dean, was it?"

A/N: yo it's me

Thanks for reading, I'll update as soon as possible.

-Jordan ❤️