**Authors Note**
Hi! Thank you so much for taking time to read this fic! It's my first fic, so sorry if the writing isn't the best. But thanks so much, and I hope you enjoy!!
And note that this is a Destiel AU fanfic. Thanks for reading!!***
Chapter 1
December 10th
It was 1:00 am, and winter was at its peak. Frost and layers of fresh snow covered nearly every surface in the sleeping city. There wasn't a soul outside. I mean why would there be in such a blizzard? As snow violently flew around the city, one man walked alone. His name was Dean Winchester
Dean, a man in his early 20's, walked alone down the city streets. He struggled, walking against the raging wind, snow and ice pelting his face. He shielded his face with his arm, as the tips of his ears and fingers began to turn a light blue. He walked along, eventually finding shelter in an empty alleyway, shivering and shaking.
"Son of a bitch... My face feels like it's gonna freeze off..."
He opened his bag and pulled out a glass pipe, and filled it with the crack cocaine he just bought from his drug dealer, Abaddon. He then took out his lighter, and heated the bottom. He put it up to his lips, repeating the daily process. Inhale... Exhale....
He closed his eyes, inhaling the cold winter air through his teeth, as he let the warmth of the high take over his body. He let out a small smile as his body was slowly taken over by this sensation. The high started tingling up his legs and arms, warming him. A few seconds later, his whole body exploded in ecstasy. His body was cold, his ears and fingers frostbitten as he raised his lighter to the rocks for another hit. He was cold. But the cold didn't matter to him. Another hit, and another. Inhale... Exhale... Inhale...
It wasn't always like this. He used to have food, a house, a family.... But what he missed the most was his little brother, Sammy. He sighed as he brought the pipe back up to his mouth, inhaling. He had a future once. A life. Something to look forward to...
Another inhale. The hunger went away. The cold, gone. And the pain... Non-existent. He smiled to himself, feeling only pleasure. He raised his pipe to take another, and realized the pipe was empty; he finished it. That was the last of what he had.
"Shit...." He murmured under his breath, sighing. He felt the high wear off. The cold, the hunger, the loneliness all came rushing back. And the pain.... The pain was unbearable. He wanted more. He needed more. He put his pipe back in his bag, wrapped himself up in his thin coat, lay his head on the pillow, and curled up into a ball, closing his eyes. It's been about an hour since he started, but it only felt like minutes. His head slowly began to pound. "Fuck," he muttered quietly. The comedown from a crack cocaine high was the worst. He was tired. He needed rest. But the hunger and the cold... It was all too real. His head pounded as he tried to ignore it. Cold wind cut his skin like a knife (or at least it felt like it). He looked out of the alleyway and into the city streets. The closest homeless shelter was almost a mile away. Dean knew he wouldn't be able to make it in the terrible snowstorm. Dean curled into a ball, as he lay down. Covering himself in his fathers old leather jacket, a tear fell down his cheek. He shivered on the cold snow coated ground. He blew onto his hands softly, trying to keep them warm. He didn't want to get up, and he knew if he did, he wouldn't be able to get far. He sighed, accepting the high possibility of him getting hypothermia, resulting in death. And at this point, he didn't know if he even cared. He withstood the wind and cold, and eventually let himself go as he drifted off into a cold sleep.
*** Hi guys! Alright so i know that this chapter is short and somewhat boring, but I promise it'll get better. Thanks for reading!!***
