Touch |•| Destiel

[prologue]

-1990

The radio behind him softly played a jazzy piece and Castiel Jim Novak drunkenly swayed to the song. He closed his eyes and his lips slowly parted to reveal a small smile.

His feet moved back and forth and he spinned around, arms out. Castiel laughed a little as he turned and turned until the room was even more blurry.

In one hand he held a beer bottle and in the other, a gun. Tears were stained down his tan cheeks but no more rolled down them for he finished crying an hour ago.

Why not just end it now? The voices nagged at him. Just do it.

Castiel opened up his eyes and laughed loudly before lifting the bottle up to his lips, only to find it empty. He groaned and tossed it to the floor before starting to dance around the shattered glass.

Life was meaningless. There was no point. Nothing was going to change. Why not end it?

Castiel laughed and stopped in his tracks before he looked down at the gun in his hand. He turned it over once and twice before standing in the middle of the room, gun raised to his temple. He gave a shaky breath before giving out another laugh.

"Fuck it all." He whispered with a smile.