Stay Awake With Me [Destiel, College!AU]

12. The River

Dean's baby wasn't starting. He just wanted to go buy something…. Why did she have to do this to him now? The Impala, though gorgeous and full of personality, was hardly the most reliable of cars. She'd broken down again. In the car park not on the side of the road, so that was something. Dean spent a little while tinkering, but he didn't get anywhere and he seriously needed to go shopping. His fridge was basically empty. So Dean put down the socket wrench and stripped off his greasy clothing (after heading inside, of course). He threw on a plain, dark grey t shirt and a loose, green shirt with sleeves that buttoned up just below his elbows. He splashed his face with water before stomping out. He'd just have to walk. It wasn't even that far really (everywhere was close to everywhere else in this town), but Dean felt safer in his car.

It was surprisingly warm out, and the sky was clear. Dean shoved his hands into the pockets of his ripped jeans and whistled quietly as he walked along. He turned left down the road, towards the centre of town and soon found himself having to push his way past people who crowded around restaurants and bars. The supermarket was past this crowded, lively part of town. If he'd been driving, he could have avoided all of this.

Just as he passed the last restaurant/ bar that there was, he heard a clattering coming from down an alleyway. He stopped for a moment, and glanced into the darkness. He debated not stopping and just walking off to get what he'd come here for, but decided against it. He could only handle so much guilt. So he scratched at the back of his head and looked around curiously as he headed down the alleyway, praying to God that there wasn't some axe murderer waiting for him. "Hey!" Dean called out, taking hesitant steps forward. 
There was a scream. He'd heard that scream before. 

It was Castiel. He was lying on the ground; his head was bleeding, as were his knuckles. His eyes were wide open, but looking at him, you wouldn't think that he was awake. In fact, if he hadn't been writhing around, you probably wouldn't have thought he was alive. As it was, he merely looked like he was dying.

Without hesitation, Dean raced towards him. He knelt down and grabbed Cas' already ruined shirt. He pulled him up and used his knee to keep him off the ground. Dean hugged him close, stopping his arms from flailing. "Cas?" He half shouted and shook Castiel's shoulder gently. He couldn't help it. There was some switch in his brain that went from 'hate everything' to 'help Cas' in an instant. He pushed the dark hair back from Cas' face and whispered in his ear. "It's okay now. You're okay. I'm here."

Cas snorted as he shut his eyes and blinked them open again a few seconds later. Suddenly, they were clear. Well… mostly. He pushed himself up and away from Dean awkwardly. He smiled then,  a rather insane, childish smile. He stuck his bottom lip out as he looked at his bleeding knuckles.

"Are you okay, man?" Dean asked. He was holding a hand towards Cas cautiously. 

Cas looked up from under his eye lashes. He leant in close to Dean.

Dean let his eyes flutter closed as Castiel's lips brushed his ear.

"Don't ask stupid questions," Cas growled and hiccupped.

Dean smelt the alcohol then and leant back, turning his face away and grimacing. "Cas, what happened?"

"I found a liquor store," he mumbled and started trying to get to his feet.

"And…?" Dean waved his hand, encouraging him to continue.

"I drank it." Cas staggered and his hand scraped against the brick wall again. Then he looked up at Dean with glassy eyes. "The black stuff is on me…" he scratched at his arm a determined look on his face. The skin on his arm was covered in pinpricks of blood. "Dean it's all over me! I need to wash it off!" he stopped and leant against the wall. "Wash away the thoughts… Clean the slate…" he whispered, obviously to himself. Then he turned to Dean again. Blood was trickling down the side of his face as he started walking forwards. "I can't possibly fix this," he said and picked up his pace.

Dean stood and moved into Castiel's path, but he got shoved aside and tripped over a random hunk of concrete. He slammed into the wall and turned to see Cas half running, half staggering out into the street. "Cas!" he shouted and began to run after him. He couldn't catch up. No matter how fast he pushed his legs, drunk, injured Cas was somehow faster.

Cas swerved to the left. Towards the small river that ran past that one random park that no one liked. It was fenced off, but Cas pushed his way through a gap in the gate. He staggered forward and walked straight into the water.

Dean froze. What was he doing?! He got stuck, unable to move a muscle. He watched as that dark haired, trench coat wearing man waded into the river, walking until his feet couldn't touch the bottom anymore. Dean's eyes were wide and stinging due to the lack of blinking. He watched, slowly starting so shake, as Cas swam further out and let his head sink below the murky water. He'll come back up. He has to come back up. Dean told himself as he clenched his jaw, balled up his fists and watched the water as it slowly stopped rippling.Too long… he's been under too long! Dean broke free of the invisible force that had been holding him and sprinted towards the cold water, kicking off his shoes and stripping off his shirt as he ran. Don't be dead. Please… don't be dead. 

The water felt like a thousand tiny knives, stabbing into him, but Dean ignored it He sucked as much air as he could into his lungs and ducked under. The cold stung at his eyes as he twisted around, looking for any sign. He could hardly see a thing. As his lungs began to burn, he came back up for air. He gulped it down and shook the wet hair out of his eyes. Then he saw it, a water-darkened trench coat, floating to the surface a little way ahead. Dean's heart stuttered in his chest. His muscles ached and moved stiffly through the water as he swam out to the coat. He shuddered once before ducking under again. He could just make out Cas. Sinking. Heavy and lifeless. No. No, no, no, no, no! 

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas' chest and pulled him up. He kicked at the water, trying to be faster. They broke through the surface and the air smacked into Dean like a brick. He pulled Cas higher up and started swimming back. He couldn't go very fast. He felt as if he was actually starting to freeze. He breathed in water as he swam, but didn't stop, even though he was coughing and spluttering everywhere. His feet scraped along the river bed and he the air rushed from his lungs in a sigh. Almost there. Dean dragged Cas up onto the bank and let him fall to the ground. He collapsed, wheezing and gasping and shivering uncontrollably. He turned to Cas. 

Castiel was still. His skin was nearly blue.

Dean felt as though something was forcing its way up his throat. He got to his knees, teeth chattering and put both his hands on Cas' chest. "Come on, man." His breath hitched and he leant down on Cas' chest, resisting the urge to just start smacking him. He did that a few more times before tilting Cas' head back and covering the man's mouth with his own. He breathed into Cas' lungs and felt his chest rise. 

Cas coughed and rolled to the side, water pushing it's way out of his lungs before he was dragging in a shuddering, strangled breath.

Dean sighed in relief and rested his elbows on his knees. He wiped a hand over his face and stared down at the ground.

Blood was starting to seep from Cas' wounds again and was shaking, curled into a little ball on the grass.

Dean stood. Before he pulled Cas to his feet he walked back to the river and grabbed the trench coat. He almost fell in. He twisted he water out of it took it back with him.

"Dean," the word came out in a hushed, frightened whisper. He didn't say anything else, just sat back down, rolled over onto his back, shuddered again and stared up at the stars.

Dean slipped his feet into his dry shoes, pulled his dry shirt over his head and tossed the green one at Cas. When the man made no move to put it on, Dean knelt beside him and, grabbing his shoulder, pulled him into a sitting position. He forced Cas' arms into the dry shirt. "Let's get you cleaned up," he mumbled, just managing to control his shaking voice as he wrapped his arm around Cas' waist and hauled him to his feet.

Cas wound an arm around Dean's neck and hooked his bleeding fingers into the material that covered his shoulder.

They walked (or more like squelched) back through the streets like that. No one looked at them, no one asked if they could help and no one sniggered once they'd passed.

Dean couldn't help but feel a twinge of hope. He tried to kill the small flame, but he felt that maybe Cas would come to his senses. Maybe Castiel would come back.

~~

Cas  didn't know why he'd done it. He hardly remembered doing it at all… He just wanted everything to be over. He was sick and tired of things just being wrong and bad all the time. It wasn't fair. Cas had been dragged, dripping wet into Dean's apartment. He'd barely been conscious and when Dean had ran a bath and tipped him into it, he'd had it in his mind to try again.

So Dean stripped down to his underwear and stepped in too. He'd seemed a bit embarrassed about it.

They'd both been shivering and the hot water had stung at their frozen skin. It thawed them out eventually and they sat there in silence.

Cas rested his head against the tiled wall and hiccupped. His hand brushed against Dean's under the water and he felt the butterflies in his stomach go crazy and a warm, comfortable glow settled in his chest. He hooked his fingers with Dean's and closed his eyes. He hiccupped again. "I'm sorry, Dean," he whispered.

Dean squeezed his fingers gently and Cas heard the water ripple. It went all wavy as Dean got to his feet and stepped out.

Cas opened his eyes again and sniffed as he looked up at Dean. He reached out a hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. He stumbled forward and fell into Dean, who caught him and half lifted him the rest of the way out of the water. A towel was draped around his shoulders and he dried off the drips before holding it closed.

Dean reached into the cabinet bellow the sink and pulled out a small box. He motioned for Cas to sit on the closed toilet lid and pulled out a few bandages and a wad of cotton wool. He dabbed carefully at the gash on Castiel's head then at his knuckles and at the scratches on his lightly muscled chest. Despite the muscle, Dean thought that Cas was getting too skinny.

Cas winced and bit his lip to stop himself from squirming too much. He looked up at Dean, who was staring at the bandage in his hand intently. Cas wanted to stand up and kiss him and never let him go. He wanted to kiss that sad look off his face and suddenly make things better. He knew that couldn't, but it was a nice thought to keep his mind off the stinging.

Not a word was exchanged as Dean tossed Cas a pair of pyjama pants and a stretched, faded black shirt.

Cas pulled them on and stared at the bedroom. Was he sleeping here? Or was Dean going to dump him back off at his dorm? Cas didn't think he'd ever be able to face Balthazar again…

Dean coughed loudly and when Cas turned to him, he gestured towards the larger one of his couches.

Cas mentally hit himself. Stupid… Like Dean would want you in his bedroom… he hates you, remember? He's just being nice… Cas sat down on the very edge of the soft black couch and stared into the shiny surface of the small TV.

Dean tossed a blanket and a pillow at him, grunted something that sounded vaguely like goodnight, and stumbled off into his bedroom.

Cas just sat there. His throat was burning still and he thought that the numb feeling in his toes and fingers would never go away. After a while, he wriggled his way onto the couch properly and snuggled under the blanket. It was a bit scratchy, but it was warm and that's what he needed. Eventually, though he was scared to do it, he let his eyelids droop shut. 

He had a normal, boring old nightmare that night. He watched himself walking towards the river. Black goo had been coming from his nose and eyes and mouth. He hadn't been himself. It had been his body, but something else was inside it, doing what it wanted with him. Cas had woken to the sun glaring at him through the windows. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the patchy-plastered ceiling. His head was aching. Part hangover and part… just, pain. 

"Mornin' sunshine," Dean held out a plate stacked with pancakes. He was wearing a baggy black hoody and his hair was all mussed up. He sat by Cas' feet and wriggled his butt to get Cas to move over. He turned on the TV and handed Cas some pancakes.

They sat there watching silly, simple-storied cartoons and things finally seemed like they were going to get better.