The New York Hotel

Resignation

A/N: 

!!!!!!!!TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!!!!

This chapter contains sensitive material that I want to warn you about now. If you want to go to the next chapter, be my guest. I won't take offense to that at all. But please do know that there is a triggering scenario in here. This chapter is extremely angst-y, just fyi.

But please, enjoy if you can.

Dean sighed as he gripped his uniform tightly in his hands. His thumb skimmed over the metal name tag as he inhaled deeply and then blinked back the tears as he walked downstairs and slowly to Marcus' door. He knocked on it a few times and then waited, listening for any sign of life in there.

"Just a moment."

Dean rolled his eyes. Figures.

The door opened after about ten minutes- he was just getting ready to turn around and leave- and Marcus stuck his head out. "What do you need, Winchester?"

Dean bit his lip. "Uh, I wanted to return these." he said, holding it out to Marcus. Marcus looked down his nose at them.

"They're your work clothes. Why do you want to return them? Have you gained weight or something?" he asked, rising his nose up slightly.

"No. I'm quitting." Dean said as he held the tears back. This is what he had to do if he wanted to be with Castiel. And he did.

Marcus opened the door more widely now, frowning as he soon came into full view. "Quitting?"

He nodded. "Yes. Quitting."

Marcus' eyes met his. "Why?"

"I don't need the job anymore." he said, shoving them into Marcus' arms. "I'll go clean out my locker, and I don't need a final paycheck."

He sighed and then walked off, feeling Marcus' gaze follow him as he entered the locker room. He looked around, taking in the locker room that had basically been his home for so many years. As he took in the sweaty stench, he felt a tear prick his eye. He couldn't tell if it was from all of the emotions or the foul odor reeking off the lockers.

"Dean?" he heard a soft voice from behind him. Dean blinked back the tears and turned to see Charlie.

"Hey Charlie," Dean sort of smiled.

"I... I heard." Charlie said, her voice cracking. Dean bit his lip.

"Uh, yeah, it's a-"

He was cut off by Charlie hugging him tightly. "You take care of yourself, Dean." Charlie whispered as she held him close. Dean wrapped his arms around her waist without a second thought, burying his face in her neck.

"You too, Charlie. And just because I'm leaving doesn't mean I'm going to be gone forever. You still have my number and if you need anything... anything, you let me know." Dean said softly, pulling away and looking back at her.

He slowly wiped the tears that were falling down her porcelain cheeks. "I love you, Dean." She said softly.

Dean smiled warmly. "I know."

______

Dean walked up to the doorsteps of his apartment, key jingling in his hand. For once in Dean's life, he hoped John wasn't home. He hoped that John was at a bar somewhere, passed out drunk and needing a shower badly. Because he didn't know if he could say goodbye to John. For good this time.