broken ➳ destiel

seventeen

"understand your own heart before you handle another." jh hard

☁

With all three of them sitting in the Impala, they were working fast and hard to try to locate the license plate. Charlie had her own computer, laying in the backseat, typing fast and quick. Her fingers typing on the keys, just typing in the license plate number and waiting for it to load.

Dean was calling different hunters who lived in the area, trying to tell them to keep watch of the familiar black van with the specific plate. His voice was ushered and quiet, trying to keep as calm as possible. Yet with every decline that the hunters had said, saying that they haven't seen the van, Dean would get more and more frustrated and alarmed, anticipating what would happen to Castiel.

It was three hours since Castiel had supposedly disappeared. Three goddamn hours. It only takes minutes to kill somebody, seconds to hurt them. The angel could have been out of state by now, to the middle of Nebraska or some other state like that. Internalized fear overwhelmed Dean, as he couldn't even fathom the immaculate pain that the almost-angel could be in at the moment. Lucifer was capable of so many horrific things, and he does not give any mercy to anybody. Even if it was his own blood.

Dean, sitting in the driver's seat of course, was trying to focus on his breathing. He continuously looked at his watch, but with each glance only a few minutes had gone by, and still nothing about the van. His heart churned like a salt water sea, the waves crashing down absently, just grateful that it managed to do so. He could feel his waves stopping, the moon disappearing as the waves of his chest ceased, thumping like a pinch so delicate as if it was a hazy, synthetic beat. The feeling of being complete, was now being taken away from him.

Castiel was the one who completed him, in a way that was so complex that words couldn't describe it. No dictionary, no thesaurus, no poem, could give into the details that Dean felt towards the almost-angel. No woman's body or no men's touch gave him the feeling that Castiel didn't even do to him. Dean hasn't seen him exposed, Dean hasn't planted kisses on him, yet Dean felt like he had so much more than that. He wouldn't be satisfied until women gave him their bodies, yet Castiel didn't do any of that, and Dean felt like he was complete just by being around him.

Yet, Dean wanted more. He was selfish, wanting him all to himself. Nobody wanted to touch him the way he wanted to like Dean did. He wanted to capture every moment on a camera, even though Dean wasn't the one for photography or selfies. Every moment he had with him was perfect, and somebody needed to capture the perfectionism that Castiel forsook to Dean. His touch, the way his hands felt under the sunlight, how smooth and unblemished they were, like he had never thrown a punch or never worked a day in his life. His voice, the velveteen of his voice, tasting like melted chocolate drizzling down a waterfall, edged with gray.

He couldn't take it. He couldn't bare the pain that somebody he loved was out there, possibly being tortured physically and emotionally. His dignity masked his face, trying to convey his emotions.

"Charlie, would you hurry the hell up?" Dean barked, turning around to face the mentioned.

Charlie looked up, her face painted with guilt. She was trying the best she could, looking at different surveillance cameras trying to follow the path the van had went. She saw the look on Dean's face, the look of despair and desperation, lost of hope. His face painted a thousand words, telling her, Charlie, please. I'm trying not to break down, I'm trying not to scream. I need your help. I love him. She understood from a single expression, she understood that Dean meant no harm, and that he was terrified.

"I've almost tracked it." she promised him something that couldn't be broken, and if it was, their own relationship would be broken itself.

Dean nodded, licking his lips and looking back at the road. Dean decided to turn on the car's ignition, Baby purring and ready to go. Sam looked up, slightly startled by the sound of the Impala.