a boy who's broken. a boy who's in denial. a journey to find him again.
~a super angsty and sad 1980s au, enjoy~
((TW: SELF-HARM, SUICIDE/DEATH, VIOLENCE, ANGST, FOOD, DEPRESSION, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE,.))
(I couldn't find the artist for the cover sorr...
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Dean's POV
"I get my kicks and I want to start a rager I want to dance like I'm on the video I got a fever for the violent behavior I'm sweating pellets like a modern Romeo"
Yesterday was Anna's funeral, and I've been distraught ever since. I kept fucking up the lyrics and my band mates knew something was up my ass.
"Dean, man, it's 'I'm sweating bullets'," Claire reminded me. Usually she'd say something along the lines of: "Stop fucking up the words, dipshit". But I know they've been tip toeing around me lately.
"Right, yeah, I know, I know," I say, pressing my fingers in between my eyes. "Let's just continue."
"Bang Bang! Gimme the fame! Shoot me up to entertain I am a semi-automatic lonely boy You're dead! I'm well fed Give me death or give me head Daddy's little psycho and Mommy's little soldier!"
As we continued the song, I didn't realize how...aggressive I was acting. Benny had stopped drumming near the end of the song and Claire was lazily plucking her bass and I hadn't even noticed. I was screaming the lyrics and clenching my fists.
"I want to be a celebrity martyr! The leading man in my own private drama! Hurrah! Hurrah! The hero of the hour Daddy's little psycho and Mommy's little soldier!"
The moment the song ended, I threw my mic onto the cold garage floor and stormed into my house.
My band mates stared at each other, or rather, at Benny.
"Yeah, I'll get him," Benny sighed.
He got up from his drum set and followed me out of the garage. He found me sitting on my kitchen counter, sipping a beer and staring at the kitchen tile pattern. He hopped onto the counter next to me and took a swig of my beer.
"Benny, man, I gotta tell you something," I forced out of my mouth.
"Ya like dick?" Benny straight up asked.
I nearly choked on my drink.
"To summarize, yeah!" I laughed. "But I don't know, I don't think I'm gay. I like girls, I love chicks. Is it possible to like both?"
"Brother, it really isn't a big deal. You know who created punk? Dykes," Benny told me.
"I guess you're right," I sighed. "It's more than that, though. I'm in deep shit, man. I don't know how to explain it."
"It's that Castiel guy, I know."
"How the hell do you even know that?"
"Because, you're my friend. I know you," He took a sip of beer. "Also Ash told me."
"Fuckin' Ash, man!" I laughed with Benny.
"I dunno...I've never felt like this before. Whenever I'm around him I get this feeling, like nothing else exists except us. And I don't want anything else to exist," I admit.
