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Inmate 241

Chapter Text

Didn’t think he’d do it.
He didn’t think of it himself. It’s scary.
You feel open in a way. Impossible to tell.
Possible to rename the story, call it a romantic movie.
But we were just. Like I said impossible to tell.
Our story is nothing new, I can’t tell you truly what it’s about or how it went on, but somehow I need to get it out. My name is not important well at least not for now. I wanted to write about him. The person I felt for the most and still do. His name was Cas, it's not his full name but I like to call him that, his real name is Castiel.
Castiel Novak.
Novaaak No-vak, strange. Feels light yet heavy as it rolls off the tongue. I like saying it, alot.
Cas was an inmate here. He was just like everyone else yet completely different.
Blue eyes, pretty smile, messy hair.
Broken inside, the smile not reaching his eyes.
He liked the halls the most, letting his fingertips stroke the white and light blue walls as he walked somewhere.
I used to watch him when time had went by. Considering for a while why he made me smile, he sometimes made me sad, the way his eyes lingered on the floor, how his feet dragged behind him with each step.
Wanting to die.
I didn't like him until I first met him. Not from the beginning. But when he smiled.
He looked like an angel.
He used small movements.
He walked everywhere, somewhere, some places I couldn’t see some places I couldn’t reach.
I had barely been here two years when he came, it's hard knowing what is day and what is night.
I dont pay much attention to new inmates I didn't pay Cas any attention at first either. Well it took a turn. I'm not good with time anymore.

Then everything changed. The world I'm living in is dim, dark and mostly sad, bet it’s not too hard to understand.
Writing helps. It does. Writing a journal helps, my dad wrote one too. Sometimes I draw too, I don’t remember half of my life before they called me insane.

I remember my brother, he comes to visit each and every week or month it’s now turning into years.
There were days I wanted to die and days I wanted to live, I do write a lot about myself even tho me is wrong.
Hate me like I do.
When my brother comes for the one hour visit he sits in front of me with his pleading yet a bit guilty puppy dog eye look feeling sorry for me, well I do too.
I tell him how sorry Iam “Iam so sorry Sammy” I say only to make him never forget. He nods and asks me if I'm taking my meds, if I'm okay.
Dosen’t care about what I have to say.
And I answer.
I show him my drawings and he smiles a bit as he looks upon the papers with black paint on them created by shaken hand movements. Then asks how the staff is holding up now when more people come and goes.
Dosen’t care about what I have to say.
And then again I answer. I can tell how his arms has grown stronger how his hair is getting longer. And how he is becoming taller.
He’s dying bit for bit by seeing me like this, he cares I’d like to believe other wise he wouldn’t sit here and watch the bags under my eyes, or dried tears on my neck. I cry pretty often these days.
Ive asked him many times if he could stop coming here, I don't want him to see me like this and I don't want him to be a part of the hell I’m living within these walls, even tho I need him more than he needs me these days, well it’s always been that way. Sorry to say. Since I'm the big brother.
I don't want him gone. Never. 

We are both grown ups now but for me Sammy still is that little boy who's afraid of clowns, well that fear hasn't quite left him yet. I used to prank him alot with clown masks. How I laughed my ass off when he ran into another room yelling my name "DEAN". Afraid till I took the mask off, and then he used to hit me somewhere usally on my left upper arm. I pranked him for years and when I get out of here I'll probably prank him again.

If I get out of here.

They tried many things on me, since I became insane. They call them “tests” or “treatments” a much more mild word for hell.
I hated HATED, I'm not overreacting when I say this, so don’t you dare judge me like everyone else, you son of a bitch.
I'm sorry.
Back to what I was saying I hate the electric shock treatment. It really made me go mad.
Like truly fucking out of it. When I had these “moments” seeing all sorts of colors or figures I drew them. I hated them but got them out of my system by doing so.
They scared me, it felt like a thousand hands were placed upon my skin dragging me further down into madness. The nurses and doctors surrounding me sort of laughed, they didn’t.
Everything became my imagination only by the effects of different drugs. But I can guess or believe they enjoyed each groan and scream the depths of my throat created.
AND EVERYONE THOUGHT THIS PLACE WAS TO “CURE” THE MENTALLY ILL BUT NO... NO sir not at all. They made me the nutcase Iam. I promise.
I'm sorry.
I hate the word cure or curing, I know they only work here for money those sons of bitches. They surely wouldn't give a damn if I live today or die tomorrow.
I don't like getting angry all the time, it’s hard not too. When you walk around all day with these type of people. The living insane.


But not Cas.
He’s not one of them he’s just here. Like me.
Cas wasn’t insane either, he was sad and no one knew what to do so they sent him here.
Locked him up and threw away the key. We are not and I say not of importance anymore.
Maybe for each other.
My Cas.
I cried for him too.
I heard him cry very often at night through the thin walls. Back then I might even have hoped he cried for me.
And then he fell asleep.
The staff members didn’t care but there was this one man.
Staff Member 6478 that gave the most saddest of us a cookie and a pat on the back as he told us to cheer up with the soft voice of his. He was nice.
Even tho he might have thought it helped. It didn't, sometimes we even felt bad for him. Because he tried to cure what could never be cured.
And yes 6478 the system didn’t like real names, his real name is Robin I know that.
I heard someone say it someone with red lips and red hair in a bun, a woman, it was strange seeing her walk the halls listening to her heels make echoing sounds by each step she took, there wasn’t any females here only men. I pay attention to all the details, you kinda have too if you want to stay sane.
Robin flipped a bit for her making the mistake of saying his name.
Robin really like to follow the rules.
Well for an example.
Im inmate 448. 448888888, I like number 8 so I guess its ok.
Cas number is 241, I liked his too. Maybe even more.
Sammy told me everything about his life, about how he and Jessica had gotten a house and how Bobby was extremely supportive he even made it hard on Sammy.
Didn’t blame Bobby tho Bobby kinda were the only thing left in both of our lives especially in Sammy’s since I too had left him like our dad and our mom. But mom never meant to.
I miss her.
I got sad and in some ways mad because I didn’t have what Sammy had. But I truly loved the stories, he never made me forget that I still were a part of the family.
Sammy’s fiance Jessica never came to see me. Even tho Sammy said she would some day
Bobby I saw a few times.
It's ok.
I'm ok.

I'm tired most of the time, I don't sleep much, but they have their methods
“here take these pills they’ll help”
They say.
I'm hungry too
“here take these pills they’ll help”
They say a million times.
PILLS PILLS pills motherfucking pills, they’re yellow, blue, red all sorts of colors you can’t see after you’ve swallowed them down, you're too out of it.
Oh and sex how I missed sex and alcohol and burgers and holy mother Mary (pun intended) my car driving baby felt like flying, I can think of a lot of things I miss. I actually missed sex for only a while.
You’ll notice.
But most of all I miss me.
I’ve lost myself along the way, it makes me depressed. I have never really felt happy.
Until blue eyes, broken smile and messy hair.
Even tho I'm not sure what I felt. It was too much.
I never told anyone why I’m here and I won’t write about it either, because I never did it.
Well then again its for the best.
I’m Dean, Dean Winchester, it felt like a good time for a name. Sounds boring.
Dean. Dean Winchester, nothing. Feels numb.
Then we sit there and stare at eachother, I'm watching Sammy’s every move trying to see if he’s still there.
He’s not fully there, I can’t blame him, I helped his world fall apart.
I miss him.
I miss him very much. My little brother.
My brother and I had always been fighters in a way. We grew up without our mother. Or a father.


That’s her name. Mary Winchester.
But I will call her mom. Mom died when I was 4 years and 10 months.
Sammy was only a baby, she died on the day he turned 6 months old.
He never knew her truly, neither did I.
Fire took her.
John Winchester.
My dad blamed it to be an “accident” I blame the demons in our walls.
No one believed me. But I do.
She was my everything and now Sammy is.
Blonde hair, blue eyes. She baked amazing pies.
Hey Jude.
That’s her song, her favorite song. She turned it to a lullaby, she sang for me.
Sang me to sleep. She sang for Sammy too.
Dad wasn't really there after moms death. He became a hunter. Hunted deers and other animals.
At night at day.
He came home different times, different weeks.
Sometimes he was gone for longer, months even. I took care of Sammy for him.
I owe them both.
I owe Sammy still.
After all I'm nothing worth anyways.


I blame myself for everything bad that will ever happen to my little brother in the future for I’m not there.
There for him. There to protect what's left of him.
I'm not a big brother anymore. 

Im 448. Only numbers.

God help me.
But there is no God. I know that.
My brother leaves around three o’clock I miss him around four o’clock.
I wave him goodbye.



Chapter Text

First time I heard his voice.
Things around me sounded worse.
It was.
Raspy, sweet and mild.
“Hello” or “Hi”
Nothing new but it appeared a million times better at least in my mind.
I don’t know what I felt. I know now. We were connected by sight. I’m not sure.
We didn’t have. Not at first.
Simple things
And back to one
We went by simple ordinary steps.
It started by a simple movement. Me opening my door.
The door to my room, were all my belongings contained. My pencils and my notebooks or journals that I like to call them and some clothes.
Nothing more.
I stepped out.
Into the hall. Hall 5 and then as I closed my door a person walked into me.
I got angry. I shouted. I get angry all the time.
Nothing new, my usual reaction.
I stopped by the sight of blue. This was the first time I noticed Castiel.
The first time we spoke.
And by then he never went unseen again.
He said hello. And I said nothing. Yet he smiled. Straight at me.
But I didn’t.
It could have been my imagination.
And then he walked by. Rounded the corner.
I smiled again.
Only by his small movements. Marking me everywhere.
I breathed in and breathed out as I rounded another corner sitting down on a flower chair that I hated.
But not today. Today I liked it.
Only for today.
It would break soon.
In here eventually everything did.
Truly fascinating how only a few noticed. I don’t always write like this. I’m slightly happy now, that’s why I write in poetic ways.
I’ll soon take pills. In ordinary ways I will fall asleep only for a while.




We all deserve to die. We do. I mean it’s much better than staying here isn’t it? I’m not sure I can’t really tell. I have hard times deciding things, things like, should I walk today, should I stay in bed? Should I hide the pills and not sleep? Can’t sleep without them you know.
They’re already stuck in my system, I crave them.
I’m acting like a bitch sometimes.
Wondering when everything will come to an end. Even tho I deserve what’s given to me.
I deserve it all.
It will never come to an end I guess. I think. Eh well I don’t know. I’m hungry.
I’m in my room
I walk out.
Out in the corridor, It’s afternoon I think I guess. I’m not sure. It’s unusually silent. Like no sounds.
No sounds at all, like totally silent.
Not even the sound from my plastic shoes sounds. I look down and to my surprise I’m not wearing any shoes, Im barefoot.


I’m dreaming, again. “WAKE UP” I shake my body into reality, sometimes it works and other times it doesn't.
This time it's option two, I'm not waking up. “DEAN” I scream.
“Son of a bitch” I whisper to myself. I walk. Still no sounds.

Dean” a voice, a woman. The sound coming from behind me, I turn around almost slipping on the floor which now has turned wet. “Leave me alone” I run. I hear dogs. I’ve always unliked dogs and I knew they would eventually come. I run and run, until I can’t run any further. I panic. And then there is silence again. And everything becomes dark. Pitch black. I wake up. “Winchester” shakings “wake up” bright light. I stop screaming. Didn’t even know I screamed until I stopped. I Closed my mouth only to open it again and ask. I already knew, I always scream in my sleep.
“What’s going on?” I ask. Robin is before me with another male staff member, he’s holding a rag and a bottle.
Makes you fall asleep by only putting it over your mouth. And you dream the weirdest shit too. “DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME” I panic grabbing at the two men before me, scared I shout for help no one would give me, I grip my sheets trying to cover my body bit for bit.
“Dean calm down!” Robin remembers my name.
“I SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU, WON’T HESITATE” I hit Robin straight in the face, drawing blood. And then everything went by so fast. Both men holds me down the nurse I don’t recognize, puts the rag over my mouth and nose, making me dizzy. I might have seen him a few times walking the halls. I fight back with all the force I can but to do of drug I can’t hold back for long. Things get blurry. They back away from me as I fall unconscious back on the bed. I’m slowly closing my eyes and the last thing I hear is Robin’s voice directed towards me.
“You didn’t have to do that”.
I pay attention to the details as I said before.



I wake up sweaty. I didn’t have another nightmare. Like I usually do.
They come one after another
Grateful that I only had one. Then I hear the growl coming from my stomach. I’ve never been hungrier than I Am now.
It feels uneasy. I don’t like being hungry. Sammy tells me I get grumpy. Like more than usual. I guess that’s bad like really bad.
This time I’m making sure I have shoes. I do, I smirk a little. I sit up.
The pain strikes right through my brain.
“Awesome” I place a hand to my head, standing up, stumbling slightly still a bit drugged from last night.
I walk out. Hardly makes it to the door.
Walks out entering the hall.
Hall number 5.
People, humans, insane people walks in the corridor some towards the small “living room” of ours. Some of them walks to get their daily drugs, some to get food. Like me.
I enjoy Tuesday’s the most. On Tuesday’s we get pieee.
Apple pie, blueberry pie, pear pie, strawberry pie. All sorts of pie!
I like reliving Tuesday’s.



The cafeteria wasn’t even half full. People were chatting and some screaming no one cared, I didn’t see Robin around. I moved like a zombie. Grabbing a tray grabbing some food.
Mashed Potatoes with some beef. Ugh.
Well at least it’s food.
I was about to sit down at table 8, my table, people knew that around here.
A figure, dark hair slumped form was already sitting there. Eating probably has for a while. I feel how I begin to rage. Inside me feelings forms of hate. Creating a bigger outcome than not even I can handle. I was about to slam the person's head in the table. Like really fucking slam it probably to cause blood, wouldn’t give a damn. If you're in my seat there will be consequences.
My usual routine whenever newcomers sit at my table was to bang their head in the table before them.
But the person turned around.
Knew I was coming. Looked straight at me slightly afar. The gaze wasn’t directly on me but clearly he was watching me.


The man from yesterday. In my spot at my table.
He smiled. I shut my eyes. Still raging fully inside. But I felt calmer. Don’t understand why.
“You need to move” I didn’t even recognize my own voice.
Raspy, and ugly, very.
I shut my eyes, trying to calm down
“Why?” he asked. I still held my eyes shut. It was a Wednesday. I couldn't stay calm because reasons. But they would shock me if I didn’t so I had to do my best.
Imagining Sammy before me. Made it easier
“Breath in breath out” I whisper slowly to myself over and over.
“Just move before things gets messy” I warned him, I actually warned him. Politely.
I never do that, the fucks up with me.
“No” he said, my eyes opened. I stared straight at him. He smiled. And turned around started to eat at once.
I was stunned, confused. How could this person! This insanely stupid ignorant person change the rules like this!. I felt like Robin. A messy control freak.
Yet polite.
I shook my head staring at the back of his head. Having this feeling of not wanting to smash it into a million pieces. So instead I sat down. Looked at him wondering. Angry. Frustrated.
Completely calm.
I grabbed my fork and started to dig into the food in front of me. Never ate with the knife. Didn’t like the whole concept of eating with both a fork and a knife.
Sitting in my own thoughts he interrupted me, my thoughts. Interrupting me.
“Iam Castiel” his hand wasn’t brought before me, good thing cuz I didn’t want to shake it, I looked up brows knitted. He smiled again.
He always smiles.
He didn’t look scared. That’s a first. I remember him, those blue eyes, that rough yet mild voice. Now he had a name.
“Castiel, what fucked up name is that?” I looked down wanting to end the conversation before it even had a chance to start.
“It’s from the Bible, Iam an angle of the lord” then he laughed a bit, I banged my hand on the table. Looking at him.
He smiled.



Chapter Text

I don’t do people. I kinda hate em. Well most of them. And this Castiel dude is getting on my nerves.

It’s been 12 days 2 hours and





8 seconds since he first sat at my table. Now it’s been longer, what surprises me is that I don’t feel bothered by him. Or maybe I am bothered, I wouldn’t be writing about it if I wasn’t right?


I don’t know. Yet again I’m not completely sure. I guess the things he do annoys me more than him himself. He chews really loudly and he smiles a lot. There’s nothing to be happy about really. But even tho things are bad he smiles. God! I hate him….I might hate him. Maybe. The mop on his head or so called hair hasn’t been combed in years, or at least that’s what I think. I mean he’s a mess! And his eyes are too damn blue, too blue. Reminds me of the ocean. Okey I might dig his eyes a bit. Only a bit. NO. I don’t dig his eyes, I don’t dig anything about him.

Nothing. He’s completely useless. Next time I see him. He will regret ever sitting down at my table. I’m sure of it.


Today is a Sunday, on Sunday’s every now and then we get some ice cream, vanilla or if we’re lucky lemon flavored, I wanted pie but nah. That’s against the rules, I’ve tried to make Robin give me pie instead. But he’s in a mood. Bad mood, he’s been like that for like a week now. So I won't bother him, well not for now.

I’ll charm him another day. It’s a perk to be cute.


I walk and I walk. And then I stop. I walk and I walk and then I stop. I don’t know where I’m going yet. My life is boring. Same routine everyday. I walk and I walk.

Head down, not looking up and then I stop.


I look up. He’s standing only a few meters in front of me, I’m guessing like 4 meters.


“What do you want?”

I stand, marking my point of not wanting to talk to him

He stands still.

Not noticing.

“You never told me your name”

He stands still. He looks at me, wondering if I would answer or not.

“What’s it to you?”

I take a challenging step forward, he stands still. Not even flinching.

He shrugs.

Then he walks by touching my shoulder lightly with his, before he left my sight he smiled and as he walked away he said loudly yet quietly.

“You’ll tell me, inmate 448”

He rounded a corner.

Down hall 3.

I forgot to end him. Mark him. Never to talk to me again.


It’s his eyes.

They stop time.


Sammy didn’t come to see me this week.

He called.

Told me how things weren’t so mild anymore, Jessica had fallen down a few stairs at work and ended up with a broken collarbone. I got mad. I assumed this wasn’t true. And blamed Sammy again for putting me here in Oak Meadow Asylum. I might have caused him to cry.

Couldn’t help it.

When I get mad I see red.

This time I saw it. I didn’t care about anything.


When I say things. I don’t think. It’s like a demon taking over me, my body my soul and my mind.

I might even think it’s half true. I regret everything afterwards. I never meant to hurt him. The things I said. I cried that night. After the call. Took some pills fell asleep. Woke to a wet pillow and cramps in my legs. I get cramps sometimes. The trick is to hold your legs still,  high up in the air. The pain will go away, if it only was so easy for everything else.

It’s not.


Today, Monday I wanted to go out. We were allowed to walk in the little yard. It had a bench a lawn and some flowers planted on the left side of the end of the fence. The metal fence. If you touch, you get hurt.

I don’t touch. It’s almost December. I’m 26 years old, Sammy’s 22. Im 4 years 3 months and nine days older. I act younger. I’ve been told.

I’m wearing a jacket. Not mine. This one is white and soft, almost fluffy. Everything’s white, the t-shirt the shoes the pants even the underwear. The jacket is pretty thick, keeps the cold out. I walk on the small sidewalk made out of wood, out from the asylum into the yard. I hug myself for the cold hit me.


I don’t step on the grass, I walk on the little sidewalk made out of stone, feels like I’m destroying the only thing living if I were to walk on the grass. I sit down on the brown bench. 330 is walking around only inches from the fence. I watch him, his hand is almost touching the metal. It doesn't  but almost. Always almost. I’ve spoken to him a few times. He’s blonde, lighter blonde than me. Brown eyes you can even call them black. He’s not completely weird. He walks around and around. To the end from the start.


The door to the inside opens.


I shake my head, I look down. Hoping he won’t notice me. He does. He walks towards me right on the grass. He doesn't think.

“Please don’t step on the grass”

I watch his feet.


He yelps, as he runs off of the grass.

Walks on the little stone walk beside it.


I nod

“No worries”

He sits down a few inches away from me. I don’t look at him but I can see from the corner of my eye how he looks at me. He doesn't understand he meaning of personal space. He looks worn out. I last saw him yesterday. I look at him.


He says almost in a wondering tone.

I pinch the space between my eyes at the bridge of my nose.


I answer. He smiles. I made him happy by only speaking to him. He sits beside me for a while.

“I’m depressed, or so I've been told, It says so in my folder”

He smiled after he said that. I watch his fingers they’re long, red at the knuckles, probably because it’s cold. He holds them together. I don’t want to help him. I look up. The sky is clear blue today, it’s morning.

“That’s why I’m here. I tried to end it all”

His voice is shaky. Cold.

“I never meant to hurt anyone, only me”

I look at the grass. What I would give for a cigarette. I don’t smoke. Not period. Only when I’m nervous. Why am I nervous?

“My mother found me, half dead on the bathroom floor”

He laughed a bit. I breathed out air, it turned white, I pretended it was smoke. It calmed me.

“Sent me straight to the hospital”

I put my hands between my thighs. To keep em warm. I enjoy the summer more.

“I survived but ended up here, hehe quite funny, thought I would end up in heaven”

Silence, he was done I knew by the seconds of silence. By a few words he told me everything.



That’s all I said.


He sat beside me for yet a while. Looking anywhere but me, and I anywhere but him. He didn’t ask why I was here. Didn’t want anything in return. I’m glad he didn’t ask. Glad he told me his story. He spoke I listened. He walked inside before me. Couldn’t handle the cold. I watched him walk away.


He stopped turned around looking at me.

“That’s my name, Dean Winchester”

He smiled.

“Castiel Novak”

He stared at me and I looked at him.

His blue eyes, brown hair. Small frame of a man.

“Hello Cas”

He started to walk away again stopping by the door, he looked at me. At my freckled face. Into my green eyes, my blonde hair and broad shoulders.

“Hello Dean”

He walked inside closed the glass door behind him, one hand in the pocket of the white jacket the other dragging along the wall, head down. Rounded another corner.

I smiled.  

Chapter Text

The line isn’t long. I wait. We all wait. I step my foot. Up and down, up and down. Creating a rhythm the person in white in front of me turns around, looks at me. He stares. He has green eyes just like me, he looks like a James. I stop I stand still, my foot doesn’t move. Questioning him with my eyes, I look down to his chest memorizing the numbers on his shirt. 375 Hate his numbers.

It’s not in any order. And the numbers aren’t even, this annoys me.

I hate ‘em.


I look at the front. Soon my turn. I wait. I walk a bit, my turn.


The voice of the nurse sounds boring, dull. Dark


He looks at the computer screen.

“Winchester, Dean, correct?”

I nod


He looks at me and then back at the computer screen again, he has brown hair. Pretty dark skin. Quite nicely build. He stands and turns away from me. Then turns towards me now with pills in his hand.

“Here you go”

He gives me a plastic cup filled with water, and my daily dose.

His hands aren’t smooth, instead dry.

I first put the pills against anger issues into my mouth, then the calming one’s. Downing them with water. The nurse looks at me. I look at his chest. 342. Nurse 342. I remember. I stick my tongue out only for him to trust me, this time I swallowed them all, still I show him the underside of my tongue and both sides. He nods. I walk away.


I enter the “Dayroom” a tv, the flower chair and a sofa some windows with bars outside them.

I sit down on the floor, my back against one of the radiators. Warming me. I blink. I stare. I go numb. It will last for an hour, barely. Then the headache starts to form. On the left side of my brain. Normal. Simple. I stare. I blink, slowly. I breath.

Someone sits beside me. I don’t know him. He laughs. I laugh. I don’t look at him he dosen’t look at me. I think of Sammy and Bobby. I remember that last night I spent with them.

I close my eyes. I think.


“Sammy I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lash out, didn’t mean for it to happen”

He looks at me.

I look at him

“Dean what you’ve done...”

He didn’t finish what he was saying he knew I would understand but I blocked him out.

I shook my head, he shook his too.

“No Dean listen I can help you, we can fix this.”

I put a hand up. I laugh he’s only 18. Still shaking my head, raging inside.

Seeing red.

“Sammy that wasn’t me, believe me Sammy I would never do anything like that, not me! It’s the demon! And I don’t need you to fix anything, this is the truth”

I panic. I feel small. I hurt him again by saying I won’t be needing him. Even tho I do.

He cries. I cry too. We’re at Bobby’s he’s not home. Only me and my little brother.

I just told him everything. What I did. I thought he’d believe me.

He didn’t

“Sammy I thought you’d believe me”

My whole body shakes. Sammy stands and I sit down at the table. I put my head in my hands. I wet them with snot and tears. I feel disgusting.

“Dean please this is insane, listen to yourself!”

I look at him, this is the first time I hear someone call me insane and I’m only 22. I’m betrayed. He is too. He sits down. I look up staring at the ceiling trying to hold everything in, blinking away my tears wiping my hands on my dark blue jeans. Sammy let’s his tears fall.


“You have to understand Dean, I know mom’s death did things to you, broke you..”

He’s careful when he says it.

Still I rage. Staring straight into his eyes. Then at everything all at once. My eyes flies everywhere, at the walls at Sammy down at the table I even stare at the floor.

“Don’t fucking bring mom into this, THIS….this”

I poke at table, the table shakes. Now I’m pointing towards Sammy. I’m mad, now I’m focused on him only him.

“This has nothing to do with her, so don’ Sammy don’t you dare”

I don’t finish the sentence.

“I’m sorry Dean I know, I know I’m sorry, really. But this has nothing to do with, with..”

He’s considering what to say. Acting like his words might break me even more.


I huff. Maybe there’s just something deeply wrong with me. So I ask.

Craving an answer.


“Sammy, is something wrong with me?”

I look at him again, really looking at him at his soul. His hand is placed upon mine.

“No Dean, you're fine. You’ll be fine, you’re just lost, confused okey? It’s’s okey to be”

I stare at him and I stand. He stands too, taller than me. I walk slowly towards him and regret it when he slightly backs away from me. Afraid. My own brother. Afraid of me, I’m a monster.

“I’m a monster”

He steps forward, acting fast he then hugs me, hugs me for dear life. I feel safe, I think he feels safe too. I hug him like he’s a lifeline. We collapsed down onto the floor. We both cried. Into each other's arms, connected as brothers. Letting everything out. All at once.


I hear him saying brokenly into my shoulder


I answer, speaking into his.

I feel different, not human only Sammy understands cuz I told no one, no one but him. About this.

My brother.

Samuel Winchester.

Sammy my family.

Bobby came shortly after. He dropped everything he held and hugged us both only he knew what we had been through. He sat with us. I told him too. He acted like a father, shouted at me, calmed me assured me things would be just fine. I hated them the day after, they sent me here.


I still remember what I said to Sammy and how broken he became by my words. I told him I hated him and asked him over and over how he could do this to his family. I broke him more by blaming him for mom’s death. I now hate me. I know this is what I need. I still tell Sammy everyday how sorry I am.

He’ll never forgive me or himself.

I miss them very much every day.




Thinking about this.

I cry.

Sitting there beside that stranger. Who still laughs and I cry. And I laugh. I do both. I still don’t look at him. But when I do I realise he isn’t laughing he never did. The man beside me isn’t someone unknown It’s Cas. He’s humming. On a song. It’s Walking On Sunshine. He dosen’t look at me. His eyes are closed. I cry. Why did I think of this. Who is this person. I lay my head against the radiator. Closing them. Falling asleep to the sound of a deep voice almost singing Walking On Sunshine with whispers, he’s singing on a rainy day. As I fall asleep against a radiator beside a stranger in white, inside the walls of an asylum.


I wake when someone woke me. Robin.

“Time to rise and shine”

It’s dark outside, I don’t care about the time.

He laughs a bit.

I look to my side expecting someone to be there. But it’s empty.

Was this a dream?

Might have been.


Robin smiles

“It’s okay”

He assures me. I stand with the help of his hand. He walks with me to my room.

“Goodnight, sleep tight don’t let the creeps bite”

He winks his left eye before closing my door. I stand before my bed, hugging myself slightly.

I look around my room.

My room, I haven’t had one in while before this. It’s quite depressing how this is now my room. My own room, in years. My first day I spent in here alone and afraid, shaking. I pissed myself the first night. I was so scared of everything. I didn’t call for help. I just laid there in my own piss, thinking that this, this right here would now be my life for who knows how long.

I realised the situation before it even started.

I now sat down on the bed. The sheets were new. I dragged my hand on them. They’re also white I sat there for a while. Thinking. Then I laid down. Upon the sheets, I felt cold but knew the covers wouldn’t warm me. Not fully so I didn’t bother putting them over myself. I stared at the ceiling. I felt a tear roll down onto the pillow. Then I reached for the sleeping pills I had hidden under it, downing them without water. It took me 10 minutes to fall asleep.


I dreamt of Sammy and me while we still were kids. I suddenly woke, ran up towards my small bathroom, puked in the sink. Puked over and over again.

“There goes the food”

I looked up at the mirror. Staring at myself judging my red eyes, I hated puking. I looked down, the sink was filled with vomit. It smelled horrible.


I mumbled before taking some paper wiping the corners around my mouth. Then I left the bathroom. Closed the door and went back to bed face down to the side on my pillow.

The sun has started to shine. I didn’t care, my breath was horrible. I laid still. Humming almost singing Walking On Sunshine. I stared out the window, straight at the sun. It hurt my eyes. So I closed them. Thinking, memorizing. Being alive.


Chapter Text


The next day wasn’t clear.

My head was throbbing and my room smelled of vomit. Garlic and water. I looked around, and everything, all the objects and also me became blurry. I tried to stand. I couldn’t so instead I sat on my bed, head resting against the white wall behind me. I shook my head and squinted my eyes. Nothing helped.

I felt numb once again. I wiggled my toes. And fisted my hands over and over again. Nothing helped. Well things were getting better. I haven’t had an attack in a while.

Haven’t seen red.

A while it’s been. Better. Things were better.


The dayroom filled with sound.

I looked around sat down by the radiator again. I sat alone, watched as people talked and walked made no sense to me why they even tried. They lived a life not worth living. The heat of the radiator wasn’t there. Cold.

Cold against my back, shivers went down my spine. It lingered for a while.

The pills from yesterday made me feel.

Feel nothing.

I had to call Sammy, figure things out. As I started to stand someone stood before me I looked up. Castiel.


I looked down again as I sat back. my elbows rested on my knees and I hung my head low between my legs.


I felt him smile, he sat down beside me.

“How are you Dean?”

He asked in his unusually low voice but still as ordinary as ever. I knew he looked at me so I looked at him. His eyes bored into me I stared at him for a while, not answering. I stared at him, then his cheeks and his nose, his lips.

He had full lips, they were dry. His nose fitted his face well, also his cheeks he had a bit of stubble.

He was beautiful.

Like a river, in december, frozen but you know what contains underneath the ice.

The thought scared me. I looked away. I can’t think of a man being beautiful. I just simply can’t. It’s fucked up. Too fucked up for me

“I’m great”

He hummed a bit. As he considered the answer.

“Why do I doubt you?”

I laughed a bit, looked away. Stood up. Didn’t answer.

He didn’t stop me. He did nothing.

I did nothing.

I had to figure things out.


As I entered the hall. My head swayed. I started to walk down the hall to where the black phones hung upon the white walls. By them stood a nurse. He looked at me, smiled a tad. One of them hello smiles you know? I stood before him, didn’t make eye contact at first.

“I want a call”

I said lowly, sadly. Looking at him. Number 222.

“Well to whom?”

The guy asked, happily.

“My brother Sammy”

The nurse checked his checklist. Looked at me, my numbers. Looked down upon the paper again.

“I’m sorry but you had your call yesterday, you can call again tomorrow”

I shook my head

“No, no you don’t understand I need this call”

He smiled. A pity smile.

“I’m sorry but you know the rules”

I panicked

“NO No. I need, I need to call my brother please”

I didn’t mean to raise my voice. But I did.

“Inmate is there gonna be a problem?”

I smiled.

“No but I just need this call, I need my brother”

The last of that sentence I whispered.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do nothing”

He patted my shoulder. And I flipped. I couldn’t control myself. Not this time not any time, things in my mind my head didn’t make sense, I wasn’t real he wasn’t real. White bright light before me and I rage. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry 222.

I grabbed a hold of his arm breaking it in a second he had no chance of defending himself. Now I saw red. He screamed a horrible scream it echoed down the halls as two guards came running. They saw me and the closer they got the angrier I became. I knocked the first down with a blow to his nose. He tumbled back the other guard had a grip of my left arm. I punched him in the guts with my free arm. Smearing blood on his white vest coming from the other nurse’s nose.


I screamed.

Then I saw him, as I stood there. Breathing in and out heaving with my whole body, ready to throw another punch if needed. Cas. He stood there watched me. From far away. He stared at me, tilting his head to the side. He blinked slowly, everything went by in slow motion. And I calmed. I saw blue again. Two other guards came from behind, tazed me down. I screamed as I feel to the ground on my knees my hands resting on the white tile floor. It was cold, my whole body was aching my arms and legs still shook from the impact of the taser. I calmed down. They dragged me by my arms, down the hall. Into a white cell.


I laid there on the white floor where they threw me.

There had been hours, maybe days, I’m not sure. Everything became so quiet and I felt lonely, so lonely. I sat curled up in a white corner of a white room. Tired. Felt cold.

Then I heard it. Just by the door.

The sound of a guitar.


“Let me take you down
Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever”


Castiel. I was sure of it, I started to crawl towards the white metal door. As I reached it I placed my head against it and listened as he sang. Where did he get the guitar from? It didn’t matter. He sang beautifully.

“Living is easy with eyes closed
Misunderstanding all you see
It's getting hard to be someone
But it all works out
It doesn't matter much to me”


I closed my eyes, and cried.

“Let me take you down
Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever”


He went quiet. I cried and hugged myself, what did I do to deserve this. I wanted to hug him. Let someone hold me. I couldn't contain my emotions as I sobbed. And placed my hands upon the door, like it would break if I touched it. It didn't. But I could dream.

I sang with him.


“Let me take you down
Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever
Strawberry Fields forever….

Strawberry Fields forever”


I stopped, and just listened to him. And then I fell asleep to the sound of his voice, to the sound of an angel. Castiel the angel of Thursday.


Castiel the angel of mine.

Chapter Text

Drugs. Drug problem. I had it, I had a drug problem. Sammy didn’t know, Bobby didn’t know, I didn’t know. I never admitted my own abuse. The abuse against my body. Meth was my friend, my lover and fiend. My everything. It started when I turned 17, a friend to me, Crowley was his name. He introduced me to meth.

He told me all my problems would go away. He told me my eyes would turn black and I would see the world in another way.

And I.

Said yes .

Yes to the destroying. Yes to the unknown and the holy.

Yes to everything that would make me feel invisible and lonely.

I told him I would try he said it would last for only a while. And I burned the underside of the rotten spoon I tied my arm with a silver stripe I took the needle of burnt flavor. I opened one of my veins and I became a god of my name.

I became the Dean Winchester I am today.

I learned from my mistakes.

Crowley died and I went insane.


I don't know why I’ve been thinking about this, I can't write it down not now I will later.

I write everything I think.


Completes me.


I had been in isolation for days. I think, it felt.

Sleeping, and they woke me dragged me out I walked with them slowly looking down they held me by my upper arms.

One guard by each side of me. Holding me controlling me. I felt like a dog. I don't like dogs or flying, I get troubled by cats too.

Never mind.

We walked.

“Where we going?”

No answer.

“Fine then don’t answer”

I still held my head high.


We stopped at Mrs Harvelle’s office. Her full name Ellen Harvelle, daughter one, Jo Harvelle she’s blonde, seen her once or twice maybe more. She's got a nice ass, would bang her.

They opened the door and I stepped in, they were about to cuff me but as soon as the brunette guard brought the silver handcuffs in sight Ellen protested.


“Guys no need”

She gestured with her hand and the brunette guard lowered the cuffs and I breathed out.

“Thanks Ellen”

She gave me a stern look.

I was about to turn around to look at the numbers of the guards but didn't get the time before Ellen beeped in.

“Sit down, and don’t call me Ellen you know the rules”

Not knowing their numbers make things uneasy for me. Cold for me. It nagged inside of me.

Then I paced the small room, her desk in the middle, window behind her. She sat on a brown leather chair, a black desk in front of her and two chairs with black leather upon them stood before the desk.

I sat down in one of them.

She smiled at me, sadly.

“Another attack”

She sighed as I slumped my shoulders. I nodded.

“We can’t have that”

I looked down, feeling guilty. Angry at myself. 222 just did his job. But so did I. He didn't deserve it.

“Ellen look..”

She interrupted me.

“Mrs Harvelle”

She said and I smiled.

“Mrs Harvelle I’m sorry, really I don’t know what got into me, It's hard not knowing. Everything turns red before my eyes and I just freak out!”

I gestured with my hands as I spoke.

Sadly, unimpressed, disappointed she looked at me. I looked down. Letting my hands fall.

“Well there must be a way, isn’t the treatment working?”

My head shot up, glancing towards her instead of down at my white silken pants. I know what the word “treatment” meant.

“NO! No, sorry. It, no. It’s not working. They make me feel strange, weird and it hurts bad Mrs Harvelle, It hurts, bad. Don’t make me…go through that again”

I talked lowly. Slowly. Laughed nervously at the end of the sentence.

“You have to understand, please”

She looked at me, head tilting to her left side as I begged.

She wore a green shirt today. Military green, boobs showing lightly. With a black cardigan over her shoulders and arms. Her hair in a tight bun, neat.


And pretty.

She was a widower. Husband dead. Daughter living working as a bartender, seen her a couple times at the public bar, flirted with her too, she didn't mind.

She flirted back.

I know a lot about Ellen because she’s a friend to Bobby’s I’ve met her many times before.

This was one of Bobby’s reasons.

I was sent here for the better.

Bobby knew Ellen would take care of me. And she did to a minimum.

She knew what I had done and she couldn't just smile nod and accept.

She became strict.

Wrong, she became wrong.

But for her caring I am grateful. Truly.

And I wouldn’t like to know what the other patients are living like.

I always liked Ellen, she became a mother figure in a way, she's a better person than me. A better person than most of us.

“Mr Winchester calm down, I might have a solution. I'm not sure but we have to try”

She breathed in slowly her lungs were now filled with air.

Then she continued. As she breathed out.

“I think it’ll be good for you and others. I've been thinking about this for a while now. And it will be for the best. You need something, someone”

I sat like a question mark.

“You need a friend, someone you can talk to and not me. But you know I’m here at any times”

She reassured

“But you need a friend, someone who’s good for you, and you for them. So you can learn how to be social again. And maybe this will help you keep track of the outbursts of yours”

She sounded so happy, proud of herself.

This was her master plan? A go go friend yippy dippy plan.

It sucked.

She sat with her hands on the desk resting them both upon each other.

I shook my head.

“No, I don’t need a friend. I need my freedom my right to make things better”

She puffed

“This is your way. Your way to make things better?”

I asked helplessly.


I looked up. She said my name. Green eyes watching brown ones.

“If you don’t do this I’ll have no choice but to put you through treatment again”

She spinned the word treatment. Making it sound like a hurricane going through my head and out down by my ankles as it walked away. My eyes turned foggy and my breath soggy. I couldn’t.

Can’t do that again.

No. I.

“Okay, I’ll get a friend or whatever. Yes a friend”

She smiled.

“I’m sorry”

She smiled sadly now. Thanking me with a nod for the apology. And for the acceptance.

I nodded back.

Thanking her for another chance I didn't deserve.


A friend?

It makes me shiver. I've always seen humans as monsters.

They creep me out.

I shiver.

In here they're weird.

A friend I need. Maybe one like Crowley.

He was good to me. At least from the start. He lied.

Told me I wouldn't get caught up with it, told me I could “try” try as in “you’ll never get rid of it” and then I was caught.

Caught in my own abuse.


I needed a friend.

Not like Crowley someone like me. Someone like me.


I began to walk towards my room. Unsetingsfying with my option I walked. I looked around me just to be sure. Sure about what I don't know.

I walked and then


Right there and then I made the worst decision of my life.


Chapter Text

I don’t want to go out. They might get me again, I need to pray. Getting upon my knees for the lord is my saving. This white room is my church. I don’t have candles. They don’t let me. They might get me. I’m staying here forever. In this white room, with these white walls with my god. I pray. Hands in front of me I pray. This is my teaching. I’ve been teached this. To not sin and I will not. I need to pray the sad away.

I pray.


I need food. I get up I’m finished with the prays. Opening the door I walk out slowly my mind is tired. I didn’t sleep much last night for I sinned. I’m simply not thinking until I see him, the blonde green eyed guy. Dean. Winchester. He’s been gone for 2 weeks. Isolation the room with no doors. He looks at me I tell him hello. He looks at me again. Weirdly. And then walks by me. I watch him walk away he looks back and I look at him. Then he’s gone. Around a corner he went.

Weird. I walk to the cafeteria. There isn’t many people here. I walk to get food. I get food I sit anywhere. I begin to eat.



I turn around. Dean.


He sits. I look at him, under his eyes lies black bags. And his arms hang heavily from his shoulders.

“You look tired Dean”

He nods.

“You too”

I nod. I am tired, I haven’t slept much. He doesn't say anything more for a few minutes. We sit in complete silence.

“How’d you get the guitar?”

I think, for a second I don’t recall what he’s talking about. Then

“Oh I took it from the locker of music”

Another sin I begin to think. I need to pray again.

“You just took it?”

I nod answering his question with no words, impolite I’m afraid he thinks badly about me.

“Yes I took it and for that I am sorry”

Better with words. He looks at me weirdly, almost annoyed I should have stayed quiet.

SIN SIN SIN SIN . They’ll get me.

I should not speak.

“You don’t need to apologize Cas, you just borrowed the guitar”

He’s not cold like usual. I did put the guitar back. But that’s no excuse.

“No I stole it Dean”

He shakes his head as I look down he puts his hand on my shoulder making me look up but as our eyes meet he shakingly takes his hand away. Like he touched a fireplace, burning his fingertips, for me it felt like sand. He laughs. Almost as if here was nervous.

“No Cas, you borrowed it. For a good cause, no one was using it. So it’s okay. There is no need to worry…”

He paused his sentence, he’s thinking. Now looking away

“It made me happy Cas”

Eye connection appears between us. Happy . I made him happy? I nod. There might not be much wrong. God might forgive me.

“Thank you Dean”

He smiles slightly making my inhales of air pause. I smile back, brighter.


I think of this place a lot in my dreams, this place is for the odd. Like me I’ve always been odd. I moved from family to family with my older brother Gabriel Novak. For this I turned into the odd child my friends turned their backs when I told them about their real father in heaven called God. They all laughed and called me “weird” some of them cried for I frightened them.

For this I turned a bit sad.

I am strange. My pretend father wanted to be called sir, his real name was Jeremy. But for me he became sir. I’ve been told by him that I was no good in no other hands than God himself. I obeyed.

I have messy hair, not like my brother Gabriel. I pray for the better of him. He’s lost in the abuse of bad influence. His company does not make things better for him. He left us at age 19 sir forced him to move out, for his reputation in the town church got worse do to Gabriel’s way of spending his free time. Gabriel is turning 27 this Saturday and I’m only 20 turning 21 in May. I miss my pretend mother, Gloria. She was beautiful. Golden hair and brown eyes.

She taught me that if I smile things will turn out bright. I can’t really tell if she spoke words of the truth. For me smiling isn’t working. But I do try.


I feel a need to protect. Not over act or try to be friendly. I need to protect the green eyed man for  he is  much more than human, he’s close too. He’ll lose soon. Lose the faith of living but I will try. I will do my best not to fail him, I’ll save him. He broke a man’s arm like nothing he turned cold for him he only broke waves of air I watched him he was completely calm looking at me, watching me I watched him and he turned down the hurricane inside. I knew then that this was my calling.

I like to sing I want to sing for him. For ages on repeat I think he’ll find it boring. After a year my voice would go numb and his ears would bleed but I wouldn’t stop not for the name of god, I would sing. The old Beatles songs and maybe some tune from Queen. I think things would be fine with the help of a singing land.



“Well then, I better leave I have some things to sort out, nice talk Dean”

I stood up. Collecting my tray.

“Yeah okay, talk to you later Cas”

He looked surprised for a while. Dean stood too. He then looked at me smiled and walked away. I smiled back looking at him. He had broad shoulders uncut hair and a gap between his thighs as he walks.

He was.

He is



Chapter Text

He’s probably the only option, the worst but only option. He’s weird. Thinking about god.

I need him. I’m in deep this time. I might not see daylight in a while. Dean Winchester the son of a fallen angel and the son of a bottle of alcohol.

I bet my lungs are bleeding. Not from pain but from sorrow. How could I end up here. I promised to be strong. I’m in self pity for nothing I could have done.

I need him.

He’s turning off. I can tell, he’s becoming more and more distance. He doesn't want to talk. I don’t know what to do. I don’t like humans.

Castiel is more.


How come I don’t bump into him when I want too, I always used to see him around the halls. But no more, I’ve lost sight of him somehow. I haven’t called Sammy yet, and I won’t try. He doesn’t need me right now, he has a new family and I’ve come to terms with it.

I need occupation, something to do.

Maybe go for a walk.

No. Too cold outside.

I’m already cold. I need something else. I walk out and the corridors are filled with sound. I try to stop them.

My eyes. Searching, they’re searching for him . Like a magnet to a refrigerator. And I feel the relief but at the same time disappointment as my eyes can’t spot him, it’s been 4 days since I last talked to him.

4 Days. 2 Minutes and





Seconds and it continues for decades.

Against my own will I need to look for him, like a dog to it’s bone.


John didn’t want.

No he didn’t want to stay anywhere. He wanted no track of existence.

And I. I had no say in the matter.

Neither did Sammy.

We moved around a lot, in John’s old car. A old chevy Impala.

I liked. Loved that car.

In my late teens I sneaked out and carefully took the keys to the old black car. Started the engine up and drove through the night, one night Sammy caught me in the act and insisted on joining my late night adventures.

No. I told him no.

But the smart fucker insisted on telling John if I didn’t let him come with. So I had to. Nice. It was nice, a memory I’ll never forget.

How his smile shone brighter than ever and how his hand was out the window making a wave as I drove.

The smell of the leather and the way my hands gripped the steering wheel.


It felt like flying by driving.


I didn’t know how long I had stood there.


Remembering. Until a light tap on my left elbow.

I didn’t react. It felt like an electric shock. A light tap could make me go mad.

Then I reacted.

Up against the wall I pushed the man whom’s  touch had made me feel sick. More.

Ugly and pathetic.

I panted, whispered in the man’s ear.

“Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me.“

I gritted my teeth as I spoke. I smelled him in the process he smelled like illness. Pure.


I slowly highered my head for I could look him in the eyes with a deadly gaze.

Novak. Son of a bitch.

My hands around his neck slowly began to fall.

He looked me in the eyes. I didn’t know what to say or do.

I had to make the man I just assaulted my friend.

He touched his neck lightly like brushing off dirt. His fingernails were clean. I looked at them. Inspected him. His nails.

Guards came running. They gripped me. And asked me to calm down, but I was already calm.

Before I was gripped out of Castiel’s sight. He smirked and liked his upper lip.

And I felt dazy.

Yet perfectly hazy.


“I wasn’t thinking and I haven’t slept much ok?”

The guard listened as my excuses rolled off my tongue like an abuse.  

“We understand but it’s not okay for you to pull theses kind of stunts”

I nodded and blinked.

“I know and forgive me”

One of the guards looked down and shook his head. The other noted something on his form of papers.

“Okay you may go, but take this as a warning, if this happens again we’ll have to take care of it another way understood?”

I looked at the guard who made this statement and smiled.


He shook his head. And began to walk away with the other guard.

“And wipe that smirk of your face”

Then they were out of sight.

I looked to the wall where I held Castiel. They let him go earlier than me.

I liked my upper lip and walked down the corridor.



Chapter Text

The walls had begun to eat my flesh again. Tear Tear me up.

I feel trapped in my own body, an insecure feeling, I can't escape. I missed my calls. I missed my brother.

I’ve lost a bunch of paper, not paper.

I’ve lost something and there is no way to describe this agony.

Imagine your hand not being there, imagine your left hand wandering away in an accident.

Imagine not being able to smooth the pattern of your jeans with the thumb that your left hand is wandering away with.

It’s hope, I think.

I know, I’ve lost hope. But I still feel my heart beating after all. By placing my hand upon my chest.

I’ve taken 4 hours showers everyday for a week.

Depression, oh god I hope not.

That scares me. 

I want donuts I crave donuts, I’m like a pregnant lady. I wouldn’t be able to handle a baby, I can’t even handle myself.

Maybe I’ll have a baby one day. I mean maybe Iam a dad already.

Lisa and Ben.

NO, no that kid ain’t mine. Hopefully. Probably.

Nah. Shake it together now.

I’ve even lost my appetite, me losing my appetite, pathetic.

I can eat more than a pregnant lady. Or at least I could



I need to get a hold of myself. I’ve been in this bed for days. And I think.

No. I know.

I’ve catched a cold. Not even heated blankets can warm me.

Don’t know how and don’t know why.

But there’s tons of crumbled, snotted toilet paper on my floor and a plastic wrap from a mint candy thing that’s suppose to make your burning throat icy.

I don't tend to wash them down the toilet. 

Why would I when I can.

Simply. Leave them. on. the. floor.

And my forehead is warm to the touch. 

I don’t know, hopeless.


I get up and it feels like there’s blood dripping from my fingertips, I’m numb.

Like my nails have fallen off and the blood is just freely falling out of me.

Disgusting. Free


My nails are still there. I checked. 10/10. Still breathing. Just not fully living.

I walk to my door. Open, I open my door.

I step out I look around. And I start to walk, I want something to calm my nerves.

I can’t take it, I’ll feel the same afterwards.

Fuck. Me.


I cross a window as I walk and the sun is beginning to fall down behind some trees. My eyes are puffy and my nose is red from the harsh material of over and over using toilet paper. Great.

I wonder if I had a nose ring.

One in the middle.


Will I still be able to like sneeze and stuff.

As I stand by the window that I crossed but then decided to walk back to things got better, by just knowing I’m alive.

Buhu tragic.


I tapped my foot and looked around the room, I can see some people being strangely off.

Normal as ever in this place.

I wonder if they have people that cares for them. I hope for them.

In the corner of my eye I can see Castiel walking by. Still fixated with his finger on some wall.

I won’t bother him today. Not when I hate myself. He walks slowly.

I wonder if he has someone who cares for him.

Maybe I could be that someone.

I don’t want to. People always tend to hurt each other in some way.

I don’t want him or me to hurt. No thanks.

He walks out of sight.

At least I saw some of him today, maybe he saw me too and thought the same as I did.

Maybe I’m dreaming.

I leave the window of this room, of this building of this place and time.

I stay but my mind wanders away. To some place with loud music and to some place where I can live.

Live freely and openly.



I spoke to Ellen a couple of days ago.

She said and thought of getting a therapist for me.

To went and talk to.

I remember my last one, some dude with gray hair and green pants, I did not like the way he smelled.

I told Ellen to stop with this idea right away, cuz no person in a chair could make my day better or brighter.

She also asked me how things were going with this friend. I told her some progress.

I told her I met someone who’s not afraid of me and I not being totally hateful against them.

She smiled at this and suddenly the therapist idea were out of mind and sight.

She spoke openly, happy to me about how things might get better from now on and, little did she know that my mind was laughing.

I’ve gone down a spiral and when things gets really bad I feel really bad, but just as things gets better I want to give up.

I’m scared of how tomorrow I might be at the bottom of this spiral again, even tho I felt better the day before. Try, that’s all I can do. All I have to do.

No loser.

Not giving in.

Not giving up, it will take time to feel again.

But I think of my mother, and then I don’t think of her.

My state of mind is complicated, I wonder how it would feel to have a third leg.

Would I run faster, or would it be more difficult for me to run.


It’s three in the morning, I look at the orange clock on my night stand, something new.

No it’s actually half past three in the morning, and I’ve never been more awake.

I feel the need of talking to someone so I’ve talked to the voices in my head for some time now.

They don’t


Or feel.

They’re always on my side, at least I think so. I hope so.

I don’t want to argue with myself too.

They might be my worst enemy.

I’m numb, my emotions numbs my arms and hands.

Legs too.

Good night. But there will always be. Morning. Again and again and for all I want is. Stop. Good morning

Chapter Text

Things became odd, after that incident in the hall Castiel became odd. Not towards me. Against me, no. More like in my head. He turned out to be something I wanted instead of needed. Not like I need breast to make myself feel some types of ways in my bed. Not like my car need fuel. More like.

Like, I don’t know.

I shouldn’t even write about this. It’s too sane. Too normal to type about a zoom feeling. I guess no one will ever EVER understand how things work. One late night I wrote stuff  in the bathroom of a late night motel, when I couldn’t sleep. I cut myself deep. The blood became my pencil. And I wrote more than a 1000 papers on those cold.


Everyday walls.

I passed out when I tried to draw. It just weren’t enough color left. When I woke up, I weren’t at that motel anymore.


I wanted Castiel in a way someone wanted to photograph a smile. Or a dying flower. Neither will last forever but come again. It sounds awful. Like a different movie on a different tv.

Bored. Boredom, irritation.

Excitement I needed excitement.

Too tired to even try and get it. Not like my body can’t completely stand. It’s more a feeling of not wanting to. I could run a mile right now but I don’t want to. I want it but not at all.

I know nothing right now. I’m once again sitting in my room. On my bed. With no pants, I didn’t want them at this moment. Maybe later.

I started writing. Hadn’t done it for a while.

Keep me steady.


Half of my text aren’t even spelled correctly. Some day. Someone will fix it.


Back to my topic.

I had now a topic. Something I wanted to write about. Some stuff. One stuff. Something. Someone. A person. It’s nagging me on. When I write about same stuff over and over. It’s gets to me slowly.




Castiel or Cas, Cas sounds like gas, no it just rhymes with it. Like waves rhymes with hay. Does it not?

Who am I even asking. I won’t let someone, anyone read this. I will not even read this. I’ll throw it away some day. When I’m done. I’ll hand in the papers like a schoolboy leaving a red apple on the brown desk belonging to a miss or a mr. Now I’m on going to stuff I don’t want to write about, but I waste my mind to it anyways. I got.


But still nothing to waste, so I keep going the same way.

Ending up where I started this is nonsense but isn’t it nice letting your hand flow over a paper. It’s not me wanting this, it’s my mind speaking.

Chains me.


Bathroom break, I leave my pencil and book on my bed. Crossing my room. Into the bathroom, it does not have a door. In Case I would get the idea. Some even have.

To harm myself.

The door would be a simple way to hide. Hide from saving lights. Pff.

I drag off my boxers from my hips letting them fall to the floor. I pee and then pull the boxers up again letting them fit my frame of lower body. I wash my hands. Only with water. Not carefully.

It’s not like I peed on my hands. I enter my room again. Exiting the bathroom.

Drying my hands in the small rush of air as I walk.

Watching the floor. And there’s something there. By the door, on the floor.

A piece of paper.

I walk there. Squat down.

I stand now with the paper in my hand. I unfold it.

“Come out someday”

Come out someday. It’s ordinary, very simple, cursive letters. Writing. Pretty.

Gay. I can’t think that shit.

I’m a grown man, in a mental hospital with a piece of paper in my hand only in my boxers. And I think the handwriting of this person is pretty.


Who placed it there, they must have pushed it under the door. But whom.

A part of me hopes for a name. I don’t want to hope for. C.


I scrumble the paper in my hand then toss it into the bin. And then back to my bed. I sit.

I pick up my pencil and book. Then I let it all flow. In the back of my mind I can’t help to wonder.

Come. Out. Someday.


I don’t know when I fell asleep. But I know I didn’t make it to dinner, I can now feel the pain growing in the lower part of my belly.

“Son of a bitch”

My words makes my room seem bigger. I look at the clock hanging above my door, it’s too late to grab a bite.


I lay down again, forcing my eyes shut.

Pretending with my mind that I am not allowed to open them. It helps to keep it steady, easily I will soon begin to fall again.

And I do.



I step out in the hallway. And walks to the cafeteria. There aren’t a lot of people here. Yet.

They might not ever come again.

I grab a tray. On it I put some scrambled probably cold egg, bacon that are no longer pretty. Smells bad too. Some juice, apple juice. In like one of those small holders, not holders, packages.


I sit down at my table. Rips the little package of apple juice open and takes a small sip. Licks the rest of the drops off my lips, then I look down at my tray. I forgot the fork.

“Here you go”

Castiel sat down as he said the words, handing me a fork.

I look at him, shook. Angry. I grab the plastic fork.


He nods.

“You’re welcome”

He smiles. I’m not sure how to feel about that smile. I accept it. And attemps to smile back.

“How are you Dean?”

We’ve had this conversation at different times. Many times.

“I’m holding up, like always”

He smiles again.

“That’s very good”

I don’t bring much effort into the conversation I never do. I never ask.

“And how are you? Cas”

It just came, the question and wanting to know, like a gum falling out of my mouth. He seemed, acted surprised.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking, good to hear you’re keeping up with my nickname, Cas, I enjoy it”

It makes me imagine what else he could enjoy. I shake my head. Then look down onto my tray, I still held the fork, I take a bite from my eggs.

Ew, as it enters my mouth, I feel the cold flesh around the small pieces of eggs.

“Not so enjoyable I assume? I have not to taste it yet”

I look at Cas as he spells out the words with his plump lips. As I sit there, thinking. My body moves like never before. It moves without permission, offering Castiel my fork with eggs on it. His eyebrows fly up a bit, I feel how mine does the same.

The fuck am I offering him my food for.

He takes the fork. We barely touch. And my thoughts races more than before. The fork enters his mouth and things go from 100 to 000.


“Dean let the dog go”

Cold. Resistant.

“Dean Winchester. Give. Me. The. Dog”

He let his hand fall forward.

“Dad, can’t I just keep it for a while it’s..”

Red cheek, form a fist. And one dead puppy that had breathed in my ear only minutes before.

Too young to know.


“Dean? You there?”

Blue eyes, fork in hand offered to me.

“I gotta go”

Question mark as I stand, he sits.

“Is everything alright Dean”

I walk away. Nothing else to say, no more needs only red cheeks.


Chapter Text





And once again hit, the waves just kept falling against my chest.

I want to describe a feeling, I’m not feeling.

Determination, of what is unseen. Unspoken. But by an inch touched, and bent by something needless to speak about.

There’s a clock inside my head that I would willingly rewind to make things fall into order.

To make things fine again.

I want to change the sheets of my bed, and curl under warmth of a naked pillow.

Watch a porno to satisfy the needs of a teenage man.

Run a mile and pray for sunny days, a day at the beach. Only so I could get a tan to impress unimpressed women.


Is this too much.

Am I the greedy joker of a batman movie. Forcing a smile. Forcing a laughter as I submissively end someone’s happiness.

I’m stuck.

And something can forcibly be done.

But by force comes endless suffer, that even I can’t bare. It’s like being hooked by chains. Ripping the skin from my chest as I hang there. Tyring, crying asking someone to set me free. Trying to rip my own body to pieces so I could fall down again. I hang there.

Above it all like a puppet. Like a doll.

It all sounds so weak, I'm not some baby, I know I'm much more. Much more than this. I hope. I know.


I am pathetic. Useless. 


Caress me. I want someone to touch me. In ways no one else but me will understand.

I need to feel fire down my legs, heartache for a longing sensation. Oh.

Then my cold hand hides in my pants.

I begin to play with myself.

My palm feels cold, a rush of goosebumps begins to form all over my body.

It makes me go mad.



Like a rainy day. A walk in wet sand. A touch of a poison leaf.


I let everything lope free. I run a thousand miles in a matter of 20 minutes.



Minutes pass, and I begin to grasp. Pulling the sheets of my bed. My toes roll. My heart panics

I lay down further into the mattress. I lay in a mess of human sweat and abomination.

Fuck. I throb. I lick the tip of my under lip. I go numb for a matter of seconds, over and over again.

My toes burrows down into the mess.

I close my eyes as I can’t help but let out some type of moan. And then again.

It goes faster.



Faster Faster Faster Faster

Slower. Slower



My eyes roll back into my head. My neck falls limp as my head follows with the ways of my eyes.

I swallow.

I feel how the spit in my mouth travels down my jawline, only a bit. I can’t close my mouth. I force my hand over it. For I can not be too loud.

Laying on a bed. Body completely complete. Head resting on my pillow pushing the cotton inside of it down, body resting in my hands. Veins wanting to burst from the inside of my neck. Adam's Apple bobbing up and down, about a hundred times.

I bite my hand.

It has been weeks.

I will only last for so long. I can’t win against my own desire. I let my hand travel up my torso, slowly it goes down again. I free my mouth and my jaw hangs free.

And by a simple breeze. Things turn out white. In a moment of disbelief I think of something.


Then I turn clean.




The strains of a shower could be mean. I practise the feeling of being burnt alive. The shower feels nice, I wash up with the bar of soap, It stinks of vanilla. The bathroom goes foggy. I stand against the wall inside the shower, the water falls upon me. Fills my eyes, my sight goes blurry. I run my fingers through my hair to get some of it out of my face.

Stepping out of the shower turns my frame cold. It feels like an embrace. I accept it. I don’t put on a towel just yet. I let my body dry for some time. Then I grab the white towel hanging beside the shower. Wrapping it around my lower body. Exiting the bathroom, sitting down on my wet bed from forms of human waste. I don’t mind. I run my fingers through my hair again to make some sort of Elvis hairstyle. The water from my hair drips down my back. It makes me feel vulnerable.


Like some child. But there’s a grown wet man on a wet bed inside a wet house inside a wet world.

It rains outside.


I look at the clock, soon midnight.     

I stand the towel falls. I wander to the drawer, leaving wet marks on the floor as I go. I take out a pair of boxers.



No shirt this time, I walk back to my bed. I pick up the towel, throws it on the wet bathroom floor. Someone will come and get it tomorrow. Leaving me a new one. Then I turn to my bed again, laying down in my own mess. Falling into deep slumber as I hear the clock tick and tock.




I made it to breakfast. Egg and bacon. Yum.

I sit down getting ready to eat and please the hunger inside of me. Cas sits down, it doesn't make me surprised anymore, we have some type of unspoken bond.

This time it’s different, as I place my eyes upon him. He turns into that something from last night.

That someone.

Someone who turned me into nothing but a wet mess.

That someone sits in front of me now.


That someone will soon fall to the ground.

Caused by the rage inside of nothing but me.






Chapter Text

Broken nose

I caused him a broken nose

It wasn't by force or anger, simply by my own eruption, my mind scared me.

Last night I pleasured myself by thinking of him, it never faced me when the act played out.

But now

Now I'm bent and can't be unbent, unseen.

I can't unsee what already is buried deep. There's so much wrong with me.

I broke his nose.

It wasn't my fault, I didn't want too.

But so I did.


“I’m sorry!”

The white coats showed no mercy


I never asked for remorse

“Cas! Please!”

I don't know why I asked him for help, I hurt him. And he wasn't the one pulling me away. He was planted on the floor bleeding from his nose he held his hand over his face trying to stop the red mass which was already pouring, his white clothes turning velvet.

“Stop I try! everyday I try!”

They grabbed me by my upper arms, shoulders, it hurt. I tried to fight them, but it's little one man can do


We made eye contact, as everything else became silent. The screams from different patients blurred, the men in white coats stopped screaming. As he laid there his body developed into a thousand pieces, he had tears on his cheeks down by his neck, his blue eyes vividly red.

From that moment I began to hate him, but a part of me felt more than hatred. Something also began to bloom. Something I would never be able to control.

I fought until they put me down like I was some sort of animal.

Sadly something I had become long before.



I gritted my teeth until the pain was unbearable so I screamed. I held tightly onto the board that my body was placed upon.

Arms in lock, same as the rest of me.

Electric shocks filled my brain, it went down to my toes, hardly missed any part of me.

“Stop! Please!”

It didn't. Some part of me wanted to let go, not yet

“I can't take it, I can't..”

I didn't get to finish my sentence.

I cried.


They unlocked my arms and legs, I couldn't stand up, I laid still, almost dead.

Everything hurt. My cheeks red from tears, the underside of my nose burnt by dry snot. Only yesterday I could walk. They forced me to my feet letting me go as I wobbled down to the floor.

They laughed.


I couldn't hear what they talked about. I didn't want to hear it. So for my sake I felt lucky Laughable Call me names.

Someone kicked me. Poked me. I was a bird with broken wings.

Put me under water. They laughed.

Pretty face

I heard before they pulled me up and sat me on a chair.

Would they let me rest.

They played with my face, opened my eyes. I only saw white. Opened my mouth wide I didn't feel a thing.

They put something in my mouth, it tasted like salt.


Wet to the touch, it went further down my throat, I almost puked, for some time it went on.

Then it was over.


They left the room I heard the door closing, and the flicker of the lights turn off. I didn't feel a thing, I didn't know what just happened. Successfully they made me completely out of it. Everything felt numb.

They left me.

After what seemed like hours I tried to stand, only to fall, I landed on my face. I didn't try to stand up, instead I gave up.


The words sounded burnt


I didn't ask for this

“Help m..e”



I don't know when someone came to help, to save me.

When I woke up my eyes felt like they would fall out from my skull, my tongue dry. Like I've eaten sandpaper.

In some ways I felt stronger. I wasn't. I still had troubles moving.

My sight wasn't fully right. Someone sat by my bed.


I closed my eyes, then someone said it was alright.


“Let me take you down
'Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever

Living is easy with eyes closed
Misunderstanding all you see
It's getting hard to be someone
But it all works out
It doesn't matter much to me

Let me take you down
'Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever

No one I think is in my tree
I mean it must be high or low
That is you know you can't tune it
But it's all right
That is I think it's not too bad

Let me take you down
'Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever

Always know sometimes it's me
But you know I know when it's a dream
I think I know I mean a "Yes"
But it's all wrong
That is I think I disagree

Let me take you down
'Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever
Strawberry Fields forever
Strawberry Fields forever


I've heard it before, the song, I remember how smoothly the voice sung the lyrics. Just like now. By this I knew who it was.

By this I became mad, yet thrilled, happier than I've ever been before, knowing he forgave me. Knowing I still had someone. Someone who cared in some fucked up yet amazing way.

The song made me feel embraced by warmth, still the room temperature hit me cold.

I couldn't smile for my face didn't work properly like before. Nothing worked like before. They took it beyond my limit this time.

I wanted to hold his hand. I wanted a hug.

I wanted my little brother.

I felt the touch of a hand wipe away a single tear before it hit my chin.

I didn't even realize I let it out.


The song ended and the only sound left was humming. It filled my body with delight. I tried my best to hum as well, it sounded depressing so I stopped. I didn't even know the rhythm properly.

Then I let slumber take a hold of me. Dragging me into an imaginary world filled with difficult sounds.

Filled with wonderful times.






Chapter Text

I didn't know when or how.
But I woke up, I knew I was No good. But not fully destroyed. I opened my eyes and a man I've never seen before. Sat beside my bed.
I didn't get to look at him before he spoke.
“Hello Dean”
I looked at him. .
“My name is Nick”
Short, he wore a black suit with a red tie.
“Do you know what happened to you Dean?”
I blinked. Looked at my hands. Blinked again
“Alright, I take that as a no”
I looked at his his hair, somewhat messy. Blonde
“Well I'm not fully sure what went down. But I'll tell you what I know”
I didn't want to hear.
“They found you laying in the shock room”
Memories flew back to me, only parts of them, how troublesome it felt breathing, laying on that cold floor.
“You were damaged, but as you understand we took care of you, recovery will succeed”
He looked odd to me.
“As you know, you could press charges, but unfortunately you need strong evidence. You might even need some sort of witness”
I knew what he wanted to tell me, this son of a bitch. He wanted me to shut up.
“And Dean, it might actually worsen your case to press pretend chargers. You might add years to your sentence”
I wanted to strangle him, poke his blue eyes out, I didn't even have a chance to wake up before they were running scared of what might come out of my mouth.
“But it's up to you of course”
He smiled, slightly. Relaxed in his chair, folded his hands. He had a ring, probably married.
But I only had one thing on my mind.
My voice sounded raspy, ugly
He asked, now coming forward in his chair, closer to me. For him it was Sam not Sammy. It made me angrier at the man.
“My brother”
I could barely speak.
“Oh Sam Winchester, your little brother. Correct?”
I nodded. He knew about me. Probably checked my background before.
“Actually we haven't contacted him yet”
I looked at him, wondering why
“It would only bring up unwanted attention, that you or this facility doesn't need at this very moment”
I wanted him to know. To come and see me. I didn't say anything for a while, I didn't dare to speak again for it hurt too much. They are trying to silence me. I wanted to scream. At least do something, can't someone be by my side?
He looked at me as I said it
“Deal? Forgive me, I can't make out what your trying to tell me”
I breathed out slowly, preparing my body.
“I won't speak, if I get to see my brother”
I breathed in. And the devil before me smiled.
“Oh, yes I might be able to fix that”
I rolled my eyes, even that movement hurt
“I need to be sure”
I shook for the thriving pain
“Alright, alright I’ll get a hold of it”
He took my hand and shook it. I could really grasp his back, but the deal was made as he said the words
He then stood up patted my shoulder making me scream inside by how much his touch hurt my body.
I watched him walk away, exiting the room looking back once. I knew no one would know what happened to me, that I was burned alive from the inside and out. But all I wanted was to see my brother.


After what seemed like an hour after Nick left I feel asleep.
I woke up to a nurse, he were to give me aspirin.
I asked him for time and he told me it was soon past lunch.
I yawned.
Told him thanks even though I didn't want too.
He walked out of the room, slowly. Tired of this depressing place. At least that was my guessing.
I hadn't yet to see where I fully was. I took a look around. A window some curtains, by the window laid another patient, he looked dead. But even so he sat up a bit, barely had any hair on his head.
I looked at him for some time, his body oddly skinny. I made the mistake of looking for too long.
He uttered the words. I looked away.
“It's okay, you can look”
I didn't, I insisted on praying my eyes on a disturbing painting hanging on a wall.
“Stage 4, breast cancer, it's pretty okay. I wasn't sad when they told me, just faced the facts”
I glanced my eyes on him. Poor guy.
“Better than staying here anyways”
He now looked out the window.
“Did they fry you?”
I looked at him.
“None of your business”
My voice had gotten stronger. He looked away
“Alright sorry man”
End of conversation
“Im Garth, what's your name?”
Or so I thought. I didn't answer for some time. I looked at him and how his eyes sunk a bit in the small head of his. Fuck
“Dean, I'm Dean”
He smiled a bit
“My pleasure buddy”
I sighed, he called me buddy. Even though I tried to hate the guy he made me smile deep inside. I didn't want to show it.
I didn't want anyone to know it.


Some days passed. Garth got on the good side of my nerves. Luckily.
He told me that his last name was Fitzgerald and that he came from Warsaw. And that he'd met Bobby, we kinda connected when he told me about Bobby.
He also told me about his cousin Brandon, who died. But Garth still believes Brandon is flying around, but as a ghost. I believe it as well. 


On what could have been day four after the meeting with Nick, there was a knock on the door. A nurse walked in.
“You got a visitor”
He looked at me, oh god.
I watched the door. The nurse left.
My smile dropped when I saw Cas. Oh no.
He had a small bandage on his nose. He walked in slowly. Afraid.
Garth sleeping.
“Hello Dean”
I didn't say anything to him.
“How are you?”
He stood still a few feet away from my bed. Again I did not answer.
“Please talk to me”
I looked him straight in the eyes. Boiling
“Do you know what you did to me!”
He blinked.
“Do you!”
He shook his head
“No you don't. Your so stupid”
He tried to speak I stopped him.
“You did this! YOU no one else. If you just. If you would have talked! Speaked! They would have listened! Cas they would have listened! I asked for forgiveness. But you laid there BLEEDING from your nose HAHA. How wounded you were.”
I broke him down by each word.
“I'm sorry De..”
I wanted to spit in his face
“Oh shut up Cas, do you know what you are?”
He shook his head
He looked at his feet
“You are pathetic, if someone deserves to be locked in here it's you, look at me”
He didn't
“Castiel look at me!”
He now did
“You did this, you did this”
His body slightly trembling.
“You know what Cas, too bad you couldn't succeed with trying to off yourself”
He let a tear fall. His porslin eyes shattering.
“Try again”
I smiled as I said it. But inside I wanted to glue his eyes back to make them whole again. I hated him, I think.
"Just leave" 

He stayed, stubborn. Crying. I hurt him deeply but he still stayed.
"Are you deaf? Leave, I don't want you here"
He still stayed
"Please, forgive me"
I laughed at him.
"Get the fuck out of here!"
I threw the clock on the bedside table at him. Missing his shoulder by an inch.
"I'm sorry Dean"
Then he left
And as the door closed. I panicked inside, I don't know why. I couldn't care less if he lived or died.
I looked at Garth. Still asleep.
I hated myself.
I wanted death more.</p>

Chapter Text

One month

It took one month since I met him to wipe off the smile from Garth’s face.

He had a puke bucket.

Filled 4 times a day and more at nights, he puked like a open book.

Reading it over and over again.

He woke me at nights, poor guy tried to be quiet.

He couldn’t.

Someday he’ll die.

Like he said, better dying then not living.

I hadn’t heard from Sammy, neither Cas.

They hadn’t come to see me.

I understand.

I didn’t want to see Cas anyways.

I blame this suffering on him.

The room I was dying in this time was pale. Dark in the corners and cold in the air. It smelled of vomit, I get why. But it also smelled like soap. The kind grandmas own. Smelled like lemon. Sweet lemon, yet it felt so ugly.

Yet I felt so ugly.

I know I'm handsome, hell I'm even adorable. Women loves me, even the idea of someone like me, well build, apple green eyes, smoke blonde hair, pink lips. Big in the lower department.

Not to mention the face of mine.

Even some dudes get interested once in awhile.

Those I knock down.

I'm not gay

I'm not into men, not at all.


I didn't feel ugly on the outside.

But in my bones, the fiber of my hairs. Under my nails and behind my teeth.

I couldn't care less.

I wanted to stay a mess. Never let me out of bed.

The sight of Garth became unbalanced.

Sometimes he looked like he could value himself.

Sometimes he looked like he could drown in his own misery.

I mostly stared at the painting.

One painting in a room for two, what a joke.

I narrowed it down that the chair and the monkey in the painting was a picture of us.

The painting of insanity, the monkey wasn't cained.

Neither was I.

I used to drink a lot. At different bars.

Even on work time. In the end there weren't many sober days.

Alcohol was invented to create better men.

So why not drink.


It rained outside. The form of drops on the window beside Garth's bead slowly slides down becoming one huge raindrop.

Last time it rained I lived in my own room. Full of health.

Or somewhat.

I could manage to lift my hand then.

Now I can barely blink.

My voice had gotten a lot better. It sounded like a harsh cold.

A bitter one.

A bitter me.

I wanted a tv, some kind of amusement. The boredom got to me.

Clawed at me like an old cat.

Slowly but successfully

Garth puked.

I looked away, tried to think of raw meat.

I don't know why.

I hadn't let myself think of what happened in the shock room, I won't let myself now or tomorrow.

Or yesterday.


It was a Sunday.

End of another week.

There came a knock on our door. I expected the reunion of me and my brother.

Instead a woman entered.


Ellen. Or mrs harvelle.

She smiled, checked on Garth.

I watched her like a hawk.

Then she smiled at me, walked towards me.

Pulled a chair.

The sound of it dragging on the floor made my teeth turn to stone.

“Jesus Ellen lift it next time”

She sat down beside the frame of my bed.

“Hey Winchester”

Her hair curly to the touch


She sat up straight, looked back at Garth, worried. Then she placed her hand on mine.

I would like to say I'm her favorite we have some sort of background.

“Dean what happened to you…”

I closed my eyes.


She waited

“Nothing happened to me Ellen”

I looked her in the eyes.

“You met Nick”

Humor, she already knew

“Hell I did, you made sure of it didn't you?”

Ellen nodded, as I thought. 

She acted like the good one, but she was just as rotten like the rest of em.

“Yes, yes I did. I can't like. But you know we can't let this run freely, the facility is already breaking down”

I laughed, mock fully slowly. 

“It will eventually break Dean”

She looked at me like I cared. Like I was her right hand. 

“And if it does horrible things will come, inmates, I mean patients here will either go to prison or…” She didn't continue

“Say it Ellen”

She took a mouthful of needed air.


Already sensed it.

“I gotta rest”

Fuck it if I could care less.

She squeezed my hand.

“Alright I'll leave you to it”

She stood and lifted the chair back to it’s place. Before she exited the door she looked at me once more, with pleading eyes.

I once again became an animal, this time a wounded one.

“I'm so sorry Dean, this will not happen to anyone again”

Then she closed the door.

Her saying that didn't give me any hope, it will happen. I know it

“You two close?”


“Nah she's just covering up mistakes”

Lies. Needed

“Oh okay, yeah they're just a bunch of assholes all of them. Never let them treat you badly. Be brave tell them how you feel. I know I do, never let anyone treat you badly. Never”

He smiled

“I used to be bullied a lot, I'm pretty skinny. They used to call me stick”

I could see why. I didn't judge him.

“They sometimes threw rocks at me, and my mom used to cheer me up with a sock puppet, it always brought a smile to my face”

He wiggled his foot.

“She was awesome my mom, one day I stuck up for myself, told them I would haunt them when I die. They just laughed and continued to throw rocks”

He mumbled something under his breath

“But it felt good. I felt strong and brave”

I smiled at him

“Good for you buddy”

He smiled back at me.

He really was something. I would never tell him.


I don't always dream. 

But when I do it's mostly nightmares. 

Not this one night. This one Monday night.

It felt like I was floating yet swimming. I felt safe, never once left alone. 

I dreamt about the puppy I once had. 

Instead of it dying I kept it, watched it grow big and strong. 

I called him Lake.

There was someone with me. 

I felt a connection with a person I didn't know. 

I felt aroused yet fully unfulfilled. 

Seated in a forest. Standing before me was a man. 

Then I woke up, I couldn't let myself keep dreaming of a man.

Even so everything felt soggy. 

And I felt alone.

I felt cold. 

And I missed someone oh so much. 

Someone with Lake blue eyes. Someone with black messy hair.

I didn't let myself go there. 

I don't know why.

So I stopped. 

Time went on and I hadn't dreamt again, it made me glad. 

Yet annoyed. 

I wanted to feel again. Like I did in some type of hallucination.

Like some state of death sleep. 

And about the man in my dreams.




One night I heard Garth puke again.

It woke me. He also cried, exhausted. He looked so small. He panted. Not from running a mile, but his lungs slowly still collapsed. 

I groaned, I could only think of one thing to do. To make a frame of a broken window. 

I couldn't help it. I couldn't stand to see something so strong turn into something so weak. And I needed sleep. 

To get my mind off someone. No one to mention. 

Trying to sit up hurt like a bitch, trying to bend over did too. I acted and felt like an old man, limbs hard to bend.

At least I could move my body somewhat good. I had time to heal. Time to be somewhat complete. 

I looked at my white sock. I put my mind to getting it off my foot.

With some time.

I succeeded. 

I slowly pulled the sock over my hand like a glove. It smelled awful. Like a dumpster. 

I formed a mouth.

“Hey Garth”

I didn't sound very loud but it caught his attention.

“Your doing great bud”

He shined like a Christmas light. Thrilled.

“You think so?”

He actually talked to the sock puppet

“Yeah I do”

He smiled

“Thank you very much”

He then wiped his face off, forming a small amount of puke on the back of his hand. Crying.

Not for the pain.

But for the happiness in a small gesture.

A gesture I made. 

Not much needed to be said, or done. He showed great appreciation. He showed great art in the small face of his. 

After a while the night took the best of him.

I took the sock off placing it by my thigh. Feeling the warmth from it.

I felt more brave than ever.


Garth took his final breath on a Saturday.

At 5.18 in the afternoon.

It wasn't raining.

It had rained for two weeks, but not on Saturday.

Not this Saturday.

I felt alone, I didn't miss him. Or something inside me did

I didn't want to admit.

Two nurse's came in to take care of his body.

On of them put a small white blanket over his pale face.

The other emptying the grey bucket in our bathroom.

As they finished their tasks they rolled the bed out of the room.

It smelled.

The room smelled of nothing but


On the small window frame laid a pair of white socks neatly folded.



Finally free.

Chapter Text

My room stayed the same.

my bed, my bathroom, a small window.

I lived in a small bubble. My own world with someone else's rules.

In a wicked way I missed it, meaning my room of course.

The comfort of having something of my own nagged under my skin.

New sheets.

New white sheets upon my bed. Rough material.

Uncomfortable to the touch.

I slept anyways. My legs only broke by inches as I walked again. Unstable.

Like a newborn


They gave me a pair of old used crushes.

I did indeed use them, for stability.

Whenever I needed to walk.

I didn't function correctly.

It took me two months and one week to heal somewhat.

They didn't hurt me lightly.


I still can't remember what happened. I'm glad for it, still I would enjoy remembering, maybe it would make me feel less.

To bring me over the edge.

Something horrible happened that I'm sure of.


Fuck, it hurt to sit down, I did so.

If felt like the beginning of a chapter, a chapter I've read too many times.

nothing changed.

I expected something. Idiotic

No one cared for I to regain human sense. I lived alone. Desperate to fill my lungs with new consequences.

I never had problems with being alone.

But being the only one, the only one felt unsettling. Maybe I'm becoming the next American psycho. I haven't had urges yet, maybe they'll come.

I mean as Garth passed I felt happy.

Maybe that's partly defensively psychotic.

I kept my mouth shut.

Impatiently waiting. For my reward like a knee dog.


Garth deserved more.

Yet he deserved to die.



3.15 am

Cold sweat, shaky shoulders.

I woke up

My body tense I screamed, something hurt.

Something crawled under my skin.

The feeling of being ripped apart curled it's way up my body, I'm burning.

I couldn't shut it off. I screamed for what felt like hours, maybe days. But then they came to shut me down.

Some voice, some hands.

A soft pain on my upper arm. Something vivid.

Then I let go.


The morning after the occurrence of the remarkable pain I felt nothing.

I looked at my arm, and saw the small dot from a needle. They put me to rest for the night.

Not wanting to simply deal.

Deal with what they did wrong.

Deal with what they caused.


I stayed in the comfort of my room for days. Not many but a few. Maybe three or two.

I couldn't write like I used to. Unsteady, some words you couldn't see properly.

One day there was a knock.

“Yeah, come in”

I waited impatiently as the door opened. And a nurse walked in. No one of importance.

“Sorry to disturb..”

His sentence trailed lost, as his eyes captured my frame, bare chest towel around my waist. Wet hair from the stream of a shower. He wasn't very disguised of what he liked.


I just had to ask, make the disgusting moment fade away. He looked young, I'm not sure.

“Oh sorry, you, you have a visitor”

I could have sworn he saw the flame in my eyes light up as he finished his sentence.

“They told me to tell you”

I stood up, collecting my boxers and other items of clothes. I wanted to get dressed but the unsure deer stood still in the headlight of my room, I turned to him

“Was that everything?”

Needing him to leave. I knew who had come for me. Sammy.

“Yes sorry, yeah”

He stuttered a lot a pathetic homo.


He closed the door and left me in darkness nothing but the light from the bathroom brought up a flame to small aspects of my room.

As I finished dressing I left the bubble. Crutches by my side, the halls seemed to fall as I walked. I looked at rooms for rooms. Focused yet fully confused, I turned in the hall, walking somewhat steady towards the visitor room. I couldn't see Sammy, now in front of the door. Only seconds away, I got nervous really got the fucking shakes now isn't a good thing.

“Oh fuck, stop get a hold of yourself”

I told myself, trying to calm whatever nerves that hadn't been burned off.

I watched my hand over and over again touch the doorknob, I could see how the pigment of my skin turned into flames, flames no water could cool down.


“Want some help?”

I've never experienced such horror. I even jumped a bit, turning towards the voice behind me.

“Fuck, watch it you asshole, could've bro..”

Tall, broad.

“Broken.. legs”

Brown shoulder length hair.


I breathed out all the air from my lungs, all the hairs on my body slowly stood up, it felt unreal. I wanted to pinch myself. To wake before it turned out to be a nightmare.

“Hey Dean”

He looked pleased, final. I might have seen a glimpse of relief in his sometimes hazel sometimes green eyes. Fuck I had missed my brother.

Not much more could be said, as we embraced each other. It for once felt like home in this messed up place.

“I missed you bro”

I heard him utter, discrete. Carefully, afraid, might even be ashamed.

“Missed you too, bitch”

He laughed, I cried. Normally in sync.


I never wanted the day to end, ever again.


“Dean I'm really sorry, you know. Things got too much and it just, thing just felt so..”

I stared at him, we now sat in the room. Just the two of us. 


He looked at me as I finished his apology.

“Yeah, Dean I'm, I felt soulless, doing this to you, and I couldn't take it”

I looked at my hands, the ones burning flames had now turned to rivers, floating down a stream on my hands down my palms.

“Hey you still here?”

I nodded, I realized I hadn't answered him.

“No hurt feelings Sammy”

I smiled, only to make him smile. And so he did, deep down he knew how hurt I was, but my words carried him away from that place.

“So how you been?”

He wanted to know what I don't even know.

“Sammy I've been okay, how about you?”

He looked, he more wanted me to look at the crutches. I knew he wanted to know, I couldn't expect less. I also could not tell him anything, I wanted nothing else. I wanted to run.

“Don't go there, I fell nothing of importance, nothing of impact”

He shook his head laughed a bit

“Don’t, Dean. You know I'm not that dumb”

I smiled of course I knew, he's always been smarter. Always seen right through my lies, always seen right through me.

“Sammy. I fell”

He also understood me completely. Even as we were only kids. I felt so much for him, and I had to protect him even if it meant more to tell him. It might cause me more years and I don’t need to do that to him.

“I won't settle. But for now, okay. I'm fine, Jessica is doing just fine as well”

I laughed a bit

“How's her collarbone?”

Sammy smiled too.

“It's better, and by the way I meant it, she broke it”

I nodded, not doubting him again, not daring to he might vanish in front of my eyes.



Hours went by and he still tried to get whatever he could out of me, he knew something happened and he would not let it go.

It felt like he had grown even bigger. Might be because I'm walking a bit crooked, bent.

I didn't want him to leave.

“Stay just for a minute longer”

He pressed his hand on my shoulder, smiling and looking down.

“I gotta go champ, I'll be back next week alright?”

I didn't know if he'd keep his promise. But I hoped only for an ounce.

“I'll miss you”

I hugged him and he hugged me. Once again home.

I felt

“I'll miss you too Sammy”

It felt like we hugged for an eternity. But minutes passed. And I watched him walk away. I wanted to stop him, he opened the outer door turning to look at me once again then began walked away.


I took some steps forward. He looked at me.

“Please come back”

He smiled, I knew that hurt him but I needed him to promise me.

“I promise”

I smiled. And now he left. Leaving a piece of home in my heart, a smell lingering in the halls a warmth staying close to my arms.



I hated how touchy I became. Around family.

How irritating I could become. I lost myself for only a portion of something meaningful.

Sammy left a couple hours ago. And I sat in the “living room” also called day room.

In the flower chair that I hated. I sat there not thinking. I was fulfilled. Someone, a patient was banning on the radiator that never works. Well at least it never made me any warmer.

He screamed for someone, Carmen. Fuck Carmen.

I looked up as I saw someone walk down the hall.

Castiel Novak.

Fingers on the wall looking horrible.

My friend. My so needed friend. I hated him for making me reachable. I hated him for touching something inside of me.

I hated myself even more, for hurting him. Deep.

He looked up.

He looked at me.

He saw me.

And I looked at him. Until time passed and I once again began to die.

I once again needed him. Or the feel of it.


We said nothing, he walked away. Rounded another corner, but at least I knew he still stayed living.

Stilled stayed insane.     


Chapter Text

I would do anything for something, for a small hit. I know, I knew and most importantly I need to make progress.

Keep on the urge to try.

For if I do I might have a chance. Put on a smile and wave at those who walk by.

I practice walking in my room. Trying to get steady. It's time for it. I can't just sit around and sob even if it's what I want. It's getting better.

Sammy kept his promise and visited the week after our first encounter. And the week after that.

Still not letting my odd form off the topic of conversation, he’ll find out eventually. Maybe he could bring me some form of justice.


I've been walking a lot. At the end of the day the lower parts of my body thrilled in wanted pain.

If I knew it would eventually cause something good. It's for the better.

I woke up

I walk

I brush my teeth, and comb some of my hair.

No one to impress but a good face shows a healthy heart. I had a meeting with Ellen the same week Sammy visited.

And she

Stayed exactly the same. She put on a face of remorse, more guilty over the fact that she had let this happen under her watch.

Felt some

Maybe, something for me. I didn't need it. Things just simply felt better. I felt better, I got to see my brother, and the staff let me be. Things couldn't be smoother. She wanted us to stick to the “plan”

And I agreed. Knowing what had to be done.


On Sunday I sat outside. In the little yard of ours. I wanted a smoke badly. Even though I quit long ago. As the months passed the chill outside turned warm, still a bit cold but also came the sun. Spring had arrived.

I unfortunately missed winter. I'm drawn to the cold. Of how fingertips turns to spikes, how hair gets white by the falling sky. How air becomes visible for the human eye.


No one but me was in the yard.

And I appreciated being alone, I guess I wouldn't mind a woman's touch.

Beside me, they probably wouldn't go that far. Not with someone locked up in here. Or maybe it was a bizarre fantasy. I dig dressing up.

Then I heard the door open, interrupted.

Castiel. My lucky day. The person I needed to meet.

I remember what I said, clear as yesterday. How he broke down. I meant to do it, I didn't mean to harm him, but I knew I would, and I knew I did. What he caused me, I can't forgive.

It felt like the only person I could possibly have a dialogue with, turned off my radio. That I willingly tuned up, I guess I did it for my own profit.

I was forced to talk to him. Like I am once again forced to do. I'm needing to.




I still had my crutches. But this time I didn't use them, as Cas was ready to remake his decision of entering what had become my area I couldn't just let him. I had to stop my only chance from walking away.

I saw how he tensed, how his body reacted towards my wicked steps. I fell almost twice on the small pace towards him. This time I gritted my steps on the grass.

“Dean, I don't want to cause any trouble”

I gripped his collar and ignored his request of remorse. Request of sympathy. I ignored his pale face.

“Dean please”

I pushed him into the wall and felt the rapid small outburst of air coming from him, it hit my face too many times.

“Shut up, just be quiet”

I just wanted to say


Oh god could this man be anymore destructive.


I hushed him only for the situation to become even more difficult, he began to react on the base of our surroundings. Trying to think of a way to escape, something he clearly doesn't need to do.

“Asshole focus on me, I'm not gonna hurt you”

I also added.

“Well if you don't cooperate, my mind might change”

After I stated this he focused. And I focused too. What the fuck am I doing.


“I don't even know why I'm doing this”

I shook my head. Knowing exactly why. Pretending to earn some sort of human points.

“Listen, I know what I said to you. And I'm staying put, I don't regret it. Not. One. Word”

I saw how his mood turned from scared to confused and now depressing. He swallowed, I prepared another sentence on sentence. Drowning in air.

“I'm gonna make you and offer, alright?”

Confused he now became, wondering what I could possibly offer someone I wanted dead.

“If you”

Poking his chest with a finger. Still holding his collar with my other hand.

“Become my friend, make it seem reasonable. I mean believable”

I thought.

“Yeah believable”

I nodded as if answering myself somehow. Cas still confused not making any effort to add in words of his own.

“I could in return not make your time here more like a living hell”

He breathed heavy, lips parted. Unchapped. Untouched, pure by sight.

“Or you could simply not agree, and…”

I trailed off. Wanting to scare him.

“You know, I'll destroy you”

We breathed together for a while, I needed this, the the sidekick I simply not want. If only he would have told them to stop, it wouldn't have been this way. If only he said his broken nose could simply be healed.

If only he did more.

When I simply.

Needed less.


“I don't want to lie Dean”

I smacked him.

“Fuck your god, fuck sins”

A tear fell from his eye.

“Don't you think I've heard you, how you pray in your room, I heard you from day one”

I felt like the devil

“God doesn't exist, if he did you wouldn't be here, I wouldn't be here”

He shook his head

“You're wrong, my father, our father is testing us”

I laughed right in his face. Gripping his chin in a firm grip, his lips pouted. Only inches apart we stood

“Listen to yourself, snap the fuck out of your little Jesus trap. You are going to pretend, and you are going to enjoy it”

I smiled, and he still wanted to say against me, a while it took.


I dropped my hold of him. Patted the side of his arm. He was too scared to simply utter the word no

“Congratulations you have now sinned”

Then I stepped inside leaving a child of Jesus standing outside, in the shadow of a building, the sun just around the corner. But I bet he wouldn't feel the warmth even if he were to grip the sun.

And lasso the moon away.


Everything went by order.

One, two three I had him by his knees.

I took a long shower. Even tho I'm surprised I got some of my existing emotions hurt by this insane gods freak. I had my point made, my next step towards jellybean release. Cas by my side, as my friend Ellen would think more of me.

And what could the future behold.

After showering I took a look in the mirror. The small wound on my lower lip had faded soon to be unseen. I don't know who caused it, but it's better off without a name.

I stood there naked watching a drop fall from my forehead down to my cheek, not wanting a towel just yet. This way I felt free.


I dried up, brushed my teeth and walked out to my room, sat on the bed and drew a small human head on a bigger paper than needed. When done placing it inside my journal. Then with damp hair letting myself wander back to dreams.


“Fuck he has a nice mouth”


“Yeah he do, I bet he's sucked a lot of cocks before”


“Jeremy you do got a filthy mouth”


“Not filthier than pretty boy here”

Patt on my head

“Open wide for daddy”

Someone opens my jaw

“Fuck this feels good, you're up next Liam”

I had the urge to puke

“Fuck yeah Iam”

Jeremy, Liam there's one more. The one inside me.

“Switch, fast I'm  gonna come”

Release, but quickly the urge to puke was back. It hit the back of my throat again and again.

Laughs, panting groans and moans.

“Good thing we fried him up before right?”

Silence, wet sounds. They all seemed to agree.

I couldn't make out the voices, familiar the one without the name was.

“Alright boys let's get finished here”

They began to leave. Distance, a smack on my chin. One stayed

“Bet this tasted better than any pie you've had”

Who is this?

“Robin come on, we gotta go”



And then I woke up.

Tears never ending. The bed was wet. Piss.

I felt hollow.

Chapter Text

Tears never ending. The bed was wet. Piss.

I felt hollow.


The shower was my escape.

I could’ve sworn I sat there for days, not sleeping for a week. How could something like this happen?



I don’t need this. This dream of mine haunted me, would it finally break me?


Did he do this. Nice small Robin. Pie Robin.

It felt like needles growing on my body instead of hair, gripping at my flesh and skin with each stroke of new hair, fishing it’s thred so called my lost nights. Spent in a dessert filled with ice cold water. It’s burned on my back, I let it.

What the hell was I supposed to do? I can’t tell myself to stop.  I had it all. Now most not.

He watched me and killed something inside of me. The other men too.


Fuck, fuck. Everything went so well. I had it by my fingertips. Why did they do this. I cried again. Broken bones inside of me lungs developing into second and third hearts, for mine lost the power to function and my brain left me lost, unreachable of life.

I waltzed up from the shower floor. Stood in the mirror watching my now more than ever skinny frame scramble like two eggs in a pan.

I wish I could eat myself up and be gone.

Smashed it. The mirror. It broke. I broke it, by a stroke.

Now there laid small pieces of myself everywhere, I wanted to put me back together. The sharp pieces of glass hurt by holding it. I tried to put it back into the lost frame of the mirror.

They didn’t stay put and fell simply becoming smaller and smaller. Now blood everywhere I still tried, tried and tried till things turned too cold and instead I sat by the pieces on the floor looking at myself in them.

Ashamed. Disgusted by what looked back at me. Shame filled my liver.


I rested my head upon the toilet seat, so much blood. In my hair, in my face. On my knees and behind my ears. I could probably drown in it. I fell asleep. Licking my lips wanting something I couldn’t need.


I thought I would’ve died. But instead I woke up drained beside the toilet 33 minutes later. I do confess that this wasn’t what I wanted. Now some of the blood had dried. I licked it.


I had an headache and my legs felt unseen. I wanted to forget again. Live like a fly in the touch of light. Instead I felt like some grass on Mars.  

Robin. Fuck. I hit my head in the sink, trying to stand up. Collect myself some.

They assaulted me.

They did this to. Me.

Son of a bitch. I rubbed the small spot pulsating because of increasing pain on the back of my head. It wouldn't get better.

Not this time, I had puked almost 8 times the 8th one being just see through goy. I hate puking, I brushed my teeth more times than I can count. Wanting the taste I now felt from human waste gone.

This, I've had a man. Homosexuality feels so wrong. It's true.


I filled my bed with dry spots of blood. No one knew what had been done. No one knew what was going on.

I tried to sleep. To ease my mind of difficult harassment, I wanted the sheets to adapt to me make me turn into fabric. From flesh to material. Capture me

Feel me

Take me away.



I didn't dream anymore. Nothing for days until he appeared in my mind, in my living memory at night.

Castiel, he rounded corners and corners. Multiple times, his nose bled and my knuckles hurt. I had hit him. I don't know when or why.

I continued walking behind him, he didn't turn around, he didn't look at me. We stopped

My room

My door

He knocked and I woke up.

Sweat everywhere. I humbled. Pulling my knees to my chest, feeling each stray of blood run through my fingers as I pushed into my kneecaps.

“I'm so scared”

No one answered me. I had no one to talk to.

Last time Sammy was here I canceled our meeting. I couldn't face him after something like this, he'd see it at once. Tell me nothing could be done but to tell and they'd take him away. Never let me see him again. Never let me be hugged. Captured by the embrace of something loveable.


I had to take my casualties into action. Create humanity again.

Begin from square one.

And I needed to talk to Castiel.

This. Is. His. Fault.


Pray for him.


It felt like I ran through the corridors, wanting to end my adventure to the ever beyond before it could start.

Cas, where areeee you. My minds played with me.

He was nowhere to be found. Might be in the saving of his room. Just like me.

But I was what he needed to be saved from.

I became his Robin.


I hadn't checked outside. Until now.


The breeze of fresh air felt like gods tounge.

Horrible. I want to go back. But then I spotted him, sitting in the grass looking at the sun almost laying on his back. He looks so peaceful. He didn't think of me, not like I thought of him sometimes at day sometimes at different times.


I couldn't hit him, if someone would see this, they'd. They'd do something.

I sat down in front of him, watching as he watched me, how tense he became. How scared he felt. I was terror, difficult for him. Awful for him.

I felt shameful more now than before. I could almost see him shake, poor bastard. Strange me.

I could strangle him right this moment.


“Hello Dean”

Like a bird fallen from its nest. I didn't answer him.

“Are you alright?”

He asked me after a moment of silence. A moment of catching his scent.


I shook my head

“The things I want to do to you”

He hung his head almost defeated. I want him dead.

“You did this to me, you made them hurt me. If only you could have said something”

I stopped and catched my venomous breath.

“If you could have told them to stop this wouldn't have happened”

I laughed and Cas again looked at me, he saw my tears.

“I'm destroyed because of you, all I wanted was for you and I to be friends….”

His breath echoed.

“Dean I…”

I looked down at the ground and played with some grass, the quickly I stared him down.

“I hate you, Castiel Novak. This. All of you”

He planted a hand on my cheek. He felt my stubble that had begun to form it's way into a beard.

“Forgive me”

I let everything go. And he planted another hand on my other cheek collecting my tears before the fell.

“Dean please, I'm sorry. Awfully”

I pushed his hands away.

“Don't fucking touch me, just don't”

I stood up and still felt everything develope to rocks hitting each straw of grass as I walked. He stood too. 

“Dean wait”

I walked faster, rocks turning to feathers.

“Dean please”

I stopped at the entrance, looking at him.

“Let me talk to you please, dean”

The pity of how much he sorrowed made me stop, maybe the sadness in his voice caused my legs to turn solid. They were finally in shape 

He stepped closer, I now watched the ground. He played on dangerous grounds


He didn't stop he walked and walked and reached me. We stood so close now, I felt how his breath lingered upon my hair. I didn't dare to look up, might I cause him his death if I do so.

Then I felt his hand, placed on the back of my neck, traveling up towards my cheek.

“Look at me”

He said, his voice. Sends vinter back. He began tilting my head, forcing my eyes to look into his.

“I'm here and I care”

This felt

“Get your fucking hands of off me!”

I pushed him into the wall, he hit it with a small outgoing sound. This seems familiar.

“Dean don’t do this!”

I grabbed him collar, tightly up against his chin, I felt more.

“Dean listen”

I almost growled.

“Shut up, just fucking be quiet for once”

He died down and the rage in me did too. Tears still ran down my cheeks down to my neck into the collar of my white t-shirt. I didn’t have much strength left but enough to handle Cas. Under me he’s weak.


I looked at him.

He at me

His lips

His eyes

His lips

His eyes.

I came closer. Too close. He came closer. Perfectly close.

He felt me just as much as I felt him. And I wanted to. Devour him.

Piece by piece. Skin by skin. Lip by lick. Hands on hands.

His hair still messy, I placed my hand on his neck dragging his forehead to mine, something inside me changed like many times before. Because of him, I breathed out and he in. I wanted him. His hand placed on my chest traveling to my collar pulling me in. What the fuck was going on.


I couldn’t stop.


I closed my eyes

“Cas don’t”

Before I knew what should have happened between us. Things flashed before my eyes, I thought of Robin and pushed myself out of trans.


“You disgusting faggot!”

I pushed him away as he tried to grab a hold of what was left of me.

“Don’t fucking touch me again, if you do I’ll make sure the nose of yours won’t heal”

Cas backed away.

“I’m sorry if I did something to offend you”

I laughed.

“What would your god say? Begging for a man? Almost whimpering. You're pathetic”

Cas looked at me and then down to the ground as he tried to walk past me, to the comfort of inside. Away from me.

I didn’t let him.

“You fucking stay put”

I pushed him as he fell to the ground, landing on his ass. He looked so tempting.

“You stay”

And he did. I kneeled in front of him, he watched me. Protected himself by lifting his arms up only a little. Would be fun to test him

“What would your God say now of how you sit before another man, pleading”

He cried, I was done.


I left him out there. I don’t know for how long he stayed or how long he cried. I felt less better after a while. But Cas deserved pain. Maybe he prayed.

I deserved revenge.

I deserved something.

I deserved him.

Chapter Text

I still have problems stepping out of my comfort zone.

Stepping out of my room.


Ellen’s really acting proud. Like I’ve become more of what I am all because of Cas, the person that’s repaired me over and over again, sometimes with songs. I would sunk a ship with him.

I would slowly drown the good within the man.

He wouldn’t be able to see the light once more, sadly for him he’s in it already. I’ve hooked him, he’s dying now more than before. More than he wants, less than what I desire. I want him dead.

I’ve got a steady hold of him, he’s planting a firm grip on my shoulder. I’ve let myself swim in water I gotta start walking on it instead. I am less than most but to Cas I see myself as superior. He’s the dirt under my fingernail. He’s the scab on my back, he’s the cloud on my sunny day.

Fuck him.


It’s been one month since I talked to cas in the “garden” and now I sit with him every lunch I can bare, Sammy visited me two weeks ago. Asked me why I wouldn’t agree on seeing him the other times he asked. I told him things got messy inside my head. That I couldn’t bare meeting someone stable, that I would probably get angry with him again.

Half of this is true

The other half is the story of how I might have gotten sexually assaulted by a couple of care takers that many people of course probably, maybe know of that they to 100% made sure that I kept quiet of, and I agreed.

Made a deal with the devil himself.


Like I've said before I’m really worried about Sammy finding out somehow, noticing how unwell I actually am. That something is terribly wrong with me. Of him finding out the truth. Of them taking him away from me.


I sound so desperate, like a whiney little bitch.


I woke up mildly around 8, took a piss. Brushed some parts of my teeth.    

Worked on a pair of sweatpants, white of course. Decided to keep the white tee I slept in on instead of changing it.

Walked back to the bathroom, washed my face with cold water.

Quickly. Almost stressful.

Walking out from my room, my body craved food. My mind craved nothing.


The cafeteria looked packed. Like small old sandwiches. Hateful really. I looked at my table, Cas wasn’t to be seen. Relife.

I took a tray of breakfast some cereal with a small amount of milk, a dot of raspberry jam on top, a glass of water and a pack orange juice. Everything were fine for a couple of minutes, just fine not good but fine. Until my eyes fell on my worst aspect of mind.




My mind became spotless.  All the veins in my body became empty. At this time everything stood still. I could see each of Robins hair on his skull, how each stray of black became thinner and thinner. And oh he were not of age. Not yet, maybe he were around 30-34. Not old, he.


I placed the tray beside the table closest to me, and walked off. Robin didn’t have the time to catch me in the look of his eyes, but as I turned around Cas did. He stood right at the entrance of the cafeteria, watching the hidden exchange between me and Robin. How he shook my world, how small little bird could break the eagles wings.


I walked his way and wanted nothing more than to walk by him like the wind. He wouldn't care. I were right by his side, avoiding him.


I passed him


He paced behind me, quickly. And then he grabbed me by the hem of my shirt.

“Don't fucking touch me Cas”

I stood in front of him now

“How are you Dean?”

I shook my head and started to walk

“I'm fine Cas how are you? Suicidal?”

I turned my head over my shoulder, smirking at him and he stopped walking for a short moment but quickly went at it again.

“No, not today, maybe tomorrow”

He said

And I

I laughed.

Discomfort by you.


We ended up in the dayroom. I didn't go to my room, if I would he'd understand. Understand the horrific story between me and Robin.


I sat by my beloved radiator and Cas in the flower chair a bit away and in front of me, not sitting my way. We couldn't speak or see each other, maybe he had sympathy for me wanting to be alone. I did catch him look at me from the chair. His head tilted my way, as soon as I'd see him he'd look some other way, wander with his eyes to make it look believable.

It wasn't.


At the next point I caught him I rose my eyebrows. Asking him something without words without the meaningful ways of human interaction, he looked away again, playing with his eyes like he was watching fire.


One hour later he decided to sit in front of me, I decided to lean my head back against the metal and to close my eye, seeming for someone I was asleep.


“I saw what happened”

He spoke, I still held em shut

“Between you and Robin in the cafeteria”

I peeked one eye open

“I don’t get you, what are you nagging on about now?”

I asked him

“I saw the way you looked at him, and how quickly you walked away”

I opened my other eye, tilting my head into my normal way

“You really are a funny one, aren’t you?”

I leaned into him, feeling his scent stronger now.

“Imagining thing, things that’s truly aren’t there, like your own story”

He played with the end of my sweatpants. I felt the fabric move on my skin.

“It just feels like there’s something there, hidden”

I watched his fingers pull at the fabric, focusing on it instead of him

"Well Castieeeel, we all got something hidden, we're in a fucking mental asylum"

He smiled a little. 

“I know, but not like that it's, it's like there’s something wrong”

He smelled like whiskey and he spoke like vodka. 

“Something’s wrong with you Dean, I know it”

I stuttered

“I’m complet-t-ely fine”

Embarrassing, not believable. I hate how he see me.

“Dean come on, we’re….”

I still didn’t have my eyes on him, I saw a pair of hairs on his ankles, they were in my sight. Brown.


Ha ha

“No we aren’t friends, we’re just simply making them believe it”

I saw his movements, he placed the tip of the side of his finger, tilting my head up and I grabbed his wrist. We sat there. He felt surreal. Like a picture. A movie.

“Okay, fake friends then”

He said with a sore thumb. I still held his wrist. I watched his upper lip. He my eyes.

“Dean kiss me....”

He whispered.

I pushed him back.

“What the fuck are you on about now, you faggot”

He seemed just as confused as me, I stood up.

“Dean I’m sorry”

I walked away and he followed


As I took the halls by my steps, he explained his actions. Still stalking me

“You, just always have your eyes on my lips and…”

I turned around

“So because I look at you crusty ass lips you think I wanna kiss you? I’m not some disgusting homo!”

A guard walked by

“Hey is everything alright here?”

I looked at him, calmed myself till the point of forgiveness

“Yes everything is alright, I’m fine. Dean here is  fine, we’re just discussing something and he tend to overheat”

The nurse looked at me and I at Cas, how he took control so easily.

“Are you sure?”

Cas nodded, the guard looked at me once more and nodded to this statement, then walked away. Looking behind sometimes as he dissapered. Making sure I wouldn’t do something, they knew me all to well. It's not a good time. Hurt.

“No and really. Forgive me Dean, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s sinful. It just came up and I can't explain it”

I looked at him. Still calm. This time keeping eye contact.

“Next time I’ll kill you”

And to that I walked off, leaving something beautiful in a hallway of something horrible.



As I paced in my room at night. I felt unsafe. Worried.

“Why the fuck would he say something like that?”

I talked to myself

“Do I look gay?”

I walked to the bathroom, stood in the mirror they fixed.

I watched my cheekbones, my eyebrows, my eyes and eyelashes.

The underside of my chin, stubble.

My chin, my nose.

I flexed my nostrils, inside of them there were hair, black.

My ears.

My teeth.

My lips.

The upper, the under.

My tongue.

My eyelashes.

My forehead.





Then I walked out. I watched my fingers.

“Maybe it’s them”

I watched my knees

"Or them"


"Maybe it's me"



I sat on my bed, but as soon as my bottom hit the matress it stood up once more. 


"Something is so wrong with that guy"

He looked gay.

His eyes

His lips, oh his lipps..

I wanted to vomit. 

Thoughts of nothing but Castiel’s on saying haunted me. Terrified me. Pulled me in. Wanting me.

“Fuck him and his stupid fucking lips”

I sat on my bed again. Pulled off my shirt and threw it onto the ground, It fell like a bird landing on stone.

I couldn’t want to kiss him. This took up most of my mind for this amount of time I forgot I forget.


Robin never existed. Not now. Not ever all because of someone so strange, and so new.


I laid down now, resting my arms on my stomach. Feeling the inside of me rise and fall.

My lungs, my heart, my liver and my river of blood.

“Kiss me?”

I didn’t notice how I pouted my lips, how I asked nothingness.

“Kiss me”

Demanding. Forming a way of not asking.

“Will you kiss me”

Found me

“Do you want me?”

Need me

“Do you want him?”

Devoured, and to this I said


Like a bird flying in the wind.

Chapter Text

“Bobby’s working with an old mustang right now”

I nod as Sammy speaks

“He said he'd be done in a couple of months”

I nod again, fidgeting with a strand of thread sticking out of the length on my shirt. Rolling it around my finger, making the circulation of blood stop for only seconds, then letting it flow again.

“Maybe I could bring some pictures of it?”

I nod again, answers by command


He shifts in his chair, it sounds annoying as it squeak only a little. He's never been one to sit still.

“Are you sure you're fine?”

I nod


His hand falls on mine and I stop the movements involving the thread.

“Sam I'm fine”

I smile, wickedly. Theatre.

“See, I point to my smile”

Thinking of someone else's lips.

“You called me Sam”

I stop smiling and plants my hands on my thighs, letting them fall from his light grip, I rub the fabric of my pants as I think of my response. I never call him Sam.

“Yeah I meant Sammy, stop over analyzing everything, you dork”

He shifts again, and once more the sound escapes the chair.

“Stop moving so much, the sound….”

I gestured with my hand beside my right ear.

“Can't stand it”

We've been sitting here for 44 minutes and 1 2 3 seconds, he's shifted around about 20 times. I watch the clock hanging in sight further back on the wall on the left side of Sammy.

“You can't stand the sound or me?”

I look at him, he cut his hair last week. Not short but the split ends. He's wearing a red and white flannel upon a grey t-shirt with black jeans. New boots, brown and blue. Nice.

“The chair dummy, you know I want you here Sammy”

He smiles, satisfied. I know I'm tearing at his skin, making it itch only by not speaking

“Good, just wanted to be sure, but you're doing fine? Who's that Castiel dude?”

I freeze, from what I remember I haven't told him anything about the crack god freak.  

“How do you know Cas?”

He sits like a question mark. Unsure what to say or what to do. Silence becomes his alibi.

“I mean how do you know about him? I haven't told you anything”

His blue green brown gaze falters and turns from one point to another, like a squirrel but in the form of a moose.

“Yeah, yes you have”

He’s lying. I know this by how his eyebrows raises from their normal position.

“Like last week, sometime”

He’s never been a good liar, not for me at least.

“Did you read my files?”

His in his headlight now, eyes sparkling with terror. Horror


He shifts on his fucking chair once more

“Stop shifting you asshat!”

I rise from my chair. Anger fulfills me.

“You looked through my files, didn’t you”

I gritted my teeth as I spoke, my mouth becoming dry, like a sandstorm.

It made me suffocate.

“Dean please calm down, let me explain”

I marched side to side in the area of the small room, the guard outside the door checked on us as he heard the movements.

“Everything alright in here?”

I ignored him. It.

“We’re fine, thank you”


“Alright, I'm just outside if there's anything”

Guard 999, this I saw on the way in. He's probably watching me, how I phase the room.

Closing the door

He's there if anything were to happen. If I were to happen. If I were to inflict pain upon my own blood.

“You of all people Sammy”

He stood too now,  watching me march like a nutcase, side to side.

“Dean, you don’t talk to me, you barely tell me anything these days”

I froze, I looked straight at him, questioning if he’s right. And if I’m the wrong.

“You just sit here, as I try to make up some conversation. Fidgeting with something as you stay the same for the remaining of the hour”

He sits again

“It feels like I'm not with you anymore, like your gone. I had to do something”

I watch how lifeless my brothers become. So I sit too. We watch each other.

“I'm sorry Sammy, things have been rough”

He smiles a little, not for my pain but for me speaking. For opening up. Only





After the meeting with Sammy. We decided we'd see each other again last week.


I felt



I passed the cafeteria as I tried to gather my pride from the meeting with Sammy. I couldn’t, not with all I had get my mind to set on what my brother did. He read me. He didn’t ask me to, he just acted out on his own behalf.

Birth certificate.

And so my mind wanders it’s way into an old garden, a purple one.


“You did what?”

I backed away from my father. From John.

“Dad I didn’t mean to”

He went forward, with each step he took there was rage.

“Are you insane Dean! Haven’t I thought you nothing?”

He dropped his bottle, it hit the ground right before Sammy, who was sitting under our dinner table. Breaking in front of his own broken eyes.

“Dad please calm down”

He kept going, not seeing the damaged he already caused me last week.

“You live in my house! You are under my command”

I watched how terrified my little brother had become. How fear turned him into a parkinson's victim.

“Close your eyes, and hold for your ears okay?”

Sammy nodded, doing what I had told him to do. Only eight he was.

“Don’t talk to him, and never read my files again, you little brat!”

I stood still. This time waiting for whatever were to come, whatever where to mark me. I had my eyes fixated on my own t-shirt, it’s front containing the ACDC logo. My favorite band at the moment. Then the intoxicated monster in the room filled my day with sorrow.

I became purple and lost a strand of humanity.

For all it was worth, I knew I had another brother.


Lost in the cage with our own personal Lucifer.


The memory came to me, like a flower growing on the coldest of days. Slowly but surely.

Most times I forget about him, about Adam. Somehow he came cravling to my mind. I never met him. He were John's happy mistake. 

His glory his pride. 

But also my brother. Long lost, never seen. Never to be met

For me he's not of importance. Poor Mary, sad mom.


By this I knew how much Sammy did wrong in this. For reading things he’s not supposed to read.

I learnt it.

I’ve been taught. I never let Sammy be John’s student.  


But I feel for him, for my brother. I’ve closed my book. I’ve closed what’s left of the wet papers. I won’t let him dry me. I won’t let him know me, no more.


The cafeteria seemed smaller than yesterday, not at all busy. Not at all completely insanity. There were not many with clothes upon human bones as I took my tray. And sat at my table.

I felt alone, and I felt hidden. Like a barrier my hatred surrounded me.

I must look like a fool. I don’t belong, not here or not at what I used to call home. They are all against me. They all want to get me. Some had already done so. Marking me, mentality.


“Would it be okay if I’d sit with you?”

Cas, recognizing his voice.

I nod, not letting it fall awkward between us, all because our last meeting. I had to let this one slip. Like red silk between my fingertips

I still needed him. Not wanting....I’m sure.

And he sits.

Bringing his tray, it looks full. An apple, potatoes and a small chicken wing. Adding corn to the mix too. A package of juice. Raspberry flavored. He sips, bringing the liquid to his mouth by a white straw. Why does everything have to be white?

Why not blue?

I’m alone. And scared. Wanting blue straws, and to kiss this dude I think sometimes at night.

I watch his lips.

“Would you like some?”

He asks

And I shake my head.

“Wouldn’t want to catch the belief of god from those lips”

I relax into my chair. Sinking down, leaving Cas normal sight, he had to look down a bit to be able to catch my green eyes. Freckles beneath.

”Dean you can’t catch a religion by the straw of a man with belief”

He thought I was serious.


His eyes became the size of a golf ball, the blue in them more so mesmerizing. More so wanting. I suffocate again.

“What? I’ve said worse, Jesus”

He shakes his head, closing his eyes and whispering under his breath.


He opens his eyes. Note to my statement. He doesn’t like me saying Jesus?

“Are you serious?”

He rolls his eyes, and eats a part of one potato placed on his plate. I laugh a little.

He disgusts me so.


After dinner I and Castiel walked together to sit outside. I managed his presence. He wanted mine more than before, more than yesterday. I think.  

He now looked at my lips. Only sometimes only for awhile. Daring he became. 

Left for me.


We sat on the small brown bench. What I could do for a smoke. What I could do for some music. AC/DC. 

“I prefer it out here”

He interrupted my silence, he introduced his liking.

“I don’t care”

I introduced mine.

He smiled

“I used to walk a lot, go out for hours and just walk”

I looked at the sky now. It reminded me of him

“I would want to walk longer, some day, any day”

I closed my eyes, he annoys me.

“Would you walk with me”

I don’t think


We both are taken by surprise.

“I mean I would walk with anyone out of here”

Cas nods. And I agree with him that I saved myself from admitting any form of longing towards the man. I don’t have.

 I watch him stand, and so I watch him walk.


He sits upon the grass, looking up towards the sky, his longing. His home. Realizing he should have been dead and gone. Happy.

He lays down. Placed on the grass. Watching the blue gray sky. Maybe walking somewhere in his mind, like he walks the halls.

He must hate me. Wanting me to suffer, but he already caused it. 

I couldn’t make it good again. I want to leave, but so I want to stay.

He looks happy. I hate me.

For all I said to the simple boy laying on the grass, inside walls where he doesn’t belong. All because he wanted out, out of the game out of what’s called life. He wanted release. Wanted to be left alone, to travel beyond, spread his wings.

Like me.

All because he felt oh too alone, he couldn’t even kill himself. It’s sad and it’s true. I watch him.

He shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t live. No way that he’d see me cry.

Why does he exist, why can’t I stand him why can’t I not want him. Why can’t I be apart from him. He killed me, as I’m killing him.

I want to hate him


I stand too.

And I walk. I run, I’m still.


And then I sit beside his form, beside a heart, beside a pair of lungs and a brain.

It’s if he were sleeping.

Can’t you stay with me? Only for some time more. I’m all alone. It’s like he’s gone.

He looks cold, completely warm. Open your eyes. Please.

I could risk everything with this.


I could risk myself with this.


You’ll stay alright?


So I reach over him, like a bird landing on concrete. With a final breath I kiss his lips.

With a final look I’m connected with what’s called a sin. With this I let him see me fall.


Like rain. Like a small drop of blood.

I want to break his neck. I want to break my tongue.

It felt like sun, like a small storm under my eyes and under my arms.

This is what he wants

What I need.


Be my life.

I hate him less. I understand now



If it only were so simply. If I only were to walk over and take what I need. 

If I only were to wake him. You’d probably want this. No.

I’d let him sleep, I’d let him fall. I watch him still, from afar on a brown bench. I stay still.

And I’ll never fall.


“You should join me Dean”

He says with a high tone. A friendly pitch.

“I’m good”

I’m awake.


For this time, maybe not for next.

We stayed apart once more.


We stayed the same.


Chapter Text

Another night without rest for my eyes.

Some nights I dreamt of the laughters from strange men. Others of kissing forbidden lips.

Don’t ask me why my desires are like a burning palm.

I don’t want to put my hand upon a hot pan. Don’t ask me again.

Sometimes I dreamt of that day. Of the imagination that never took place, I would have killed him if I were to act on my “feelings”

“Oh fuck off”

It’s easy to say to oneself.

My eyes wanders to my chest as the reflection of myself stares back at me from the bathroom mirror. I have a few scars on the left side of my collarbone.

Why would I think to write about this? It’s feels like a mountain.

I drag my fingers on my eyebrows. They’ve grown a little, I’ve never considered myself old. Now age is haunting me.





No not



My voice sounds like a puppet. I can’t come to the conclusion of telling myself what to do.

I’m drowning over here. I feel the sweat from a paralysed bird, run down my back. A shower is not needed. I walked over into my room, and swayed over the floor. I heard music.

Non existent.

And I let it take me away.

I don’t know for how long I stood there swaying, dancing to nothing. High on a thousand pills, still saved them inside my pillow. Then I fell asleep sometime around morning.

Sometime around.


A knock on my door.

I groaned.

Another knock.

“Shut up”

Another knock.

“Come in”

Door opens. Footsteps, my eyes stayed closed from a restless night.

“Good moooorning” 

I died. My heart felt heavy like an ocean anker. And my eyelids burned holes into my long lost irises. GET out, please leave me be Robin.

“How are we feeling today?”

I want some peace, my upper body felt naked without the covers. I felt exposed, the lover. The lover of me, the part one were to take pleasure of were hidden underneath the covers. I were to take pleasure too. 

It felt like rice as it played softly upon my skin. 

“Hey, time to rise and shine Deano”

Why. The. Fuck. is my life a living scenario of hell.

I stirred and began the heavy lifting of sitting up. I didn’t look at him.

Not at first.

“Nightmare night?”

No. Nightmare morning.

I nodded, he smiled. What a psychopath. Enjoying small implants of mental pain.

“Well I’m going to do a check up, nothing new. Well not for you at least hehe”

I’ll strangle you to death, crippled bird. I’ll make you. 

“If you’d like to step out, you know the routine”

I stayed still, utterly out of my skin. My face would fall off if I caused a simple smirk. 

“Dean come one, we don’t got all day. You know that. I could get you some cream pie? You’d like that?”

If he’d see my face, he would have understood. Understood that I remember. Him. My face has now fallen of, it laied there on the floor as I stepped. Step. 

I went passed him, he laughed a little. And I wanted to stab his thick ugly back. The hallway were filled with other patients. They stood, like me. Beside their room door. Having some belongings, thrown out into the hallway. The white men didn’t care what they shattered. It only belongs to the fucking nutcases. My matress were probably thrown into my bathroom, and my pillow actually laid out here. I looked at it, glad I swallowed the rest of the pills yesterday otherwise they’d make me suffer, of course if only if they were to be found. 

Further down the hall stood Castiel. He held something in his hand, a piece of paper. He switched room last week, he’s closer to me now. The old dude living in it had passed away.

Number 988. I didn’t mind.

I watched my pillow again. Flat on the floor.

Then I watched Cas.

A flightless bird.

He held a photograph. I think. I wanted to know who were on the photo, or what.

I wanted to know everything.

Run to me. Now. In a glimpse of an eye. For a moment. They wouldn’t notice.  

I hate you.

What are you doing to me. I watched him.


“Room’s clean, like the 4 last times”

Robin stepped outside. I watched the wall now in front of me, Robin in the corner of my eyesight. 

“Well now it’s your turn”

He put on a pair of green gloves.

Green gloves


“Come on turn around you know the drill”

I turned around and right there and then I wanted to fall to my knees and pray. Pressed up against the wall he were to touch all of me again. 

“Spread your legs a little”

Mildly I did, I usually have a big gap between my thighs. Not this time

I looked to my left, there were a few other guys blocking my view. I couldn’t see Cas. Someone is probably to touching him now. Uneasy feeling.

“So I’m gonna start with your shoulders and down”

I almost felt his fucking breath on my neck, I could picture his smile. I tried to look at Cas. Please.

Now I felt his hands on my back. They felt like knives. I almost twitched as each small touch covered my mentality. At least it felt so. They went down my arms, down the side of my torso, down my self hatred. Down all of me, stop touching me. I’ll rip your fucking head of you sick fuck! I’ll rip your tounge out and stitch it to your ass. You son of a bitch. 

Please look at me.



Down the back of my ankles, the sides too. Down my thighs and the inside as well.

I felt a tear fall down my left cheek, down my neck. Collapsing cold like a wedding gown. And I catched a tint of something new something old, something borrowed, something blue. 

He smiled. And so I ran.

“There we go, you good. You can collect your things”

I blinked, and stood still. Didn’t turn around, I couldn’t do anything. No fucker would believe me. I’m not seeing shit, not blue not red. 

Catching my thoughts, my mind still running. Wiping my cheek discreetly. He can’t win over me. I walked inside, but before I could let myself go. Before I could take a wanting shower, now needed. 

“Hey Deano, catch”

I turned around, my pillow fell before me. Hitting my chest before hitting the cold cement floor. I stared at his brown eyes. It caused my mind to die, on repeat. 

“Ah you’ll get it next time!”

Robin winked and closed the door, leaving a mess in a mess. Now I regret not leaving a couple of pills elsewhere. I watched the door. 


The feeling of wanting fresh air, but not being able to get it.

I stood in the small activity room. It’s cold in here. My hair damp. 

I don’t know why I felt the need to be here. I just stood. Still. Alone, there’s a big fucking window in the middle of the room. There’s no way to open it. I’ve tried. I walked up to it. Fogging it with my breath, scribbling something. SOS maybe.




And then someone else entered the room. I didn’t turn around.

Footsteps. Beside me he now stood. Could you kill me? 

Fogging another small part of the window. He did.

 Writing something with his pinkie, odd.

I read it.


I looked at him, Novak. Then I placed my forehead against the cold window. The sun was long gone. Like a morning never were to come. 

“Is something wrong Dean?”

I smiled.

“Yes, something’s wrong”

He’s probably surprised with my openness.

“What’s wrong?”

I laughed

“It’s killing me Cas”

I looked at him now, he looked healthy. But forgotten.

“Can I help? In any way?”

I laughed even more. Hyper, scary.

“Can you help me?”

I laughed again.

“Can you help me?!”

I walked towards him, he backed away.

“Can you help me? Come on Cas can you?”

He stooped like a stone falling from a cliff. 

“Kill me! Could you? Come on now sinner!” 

I looked up to the ceiling and felt the nothingness develop and devour me completely. Fallenly I stood, unlucky I cried. Wishful tears. 

“Please help me….”

I looked at him again, his mouth gaping. Slightly. He nodded. Accepting my request. 

“Get on your knees”

His confused frame didn’t need to be ordered twice. He fell to his knees, I walked forward for he were a bit in front of me. Only moments before this, terrified.

“Close your heavy blue eyes”

His eyelids fell. His long black eyelashes were caught by the streetlight shining through the window.

“Open your mouth”

He swallowed, it sounded reckless. Oh forgive me father for I have sinned. I cried. He opened his mouth. Oh forgive me heaven for I have lived. My hands fell to his checks. Look up at me. I held him still, his eyes still closed, his mouth open.

Oh forgive me mother for I like the boy in front of me. I watched him.

“It will be over soon, I promise. I just want someone to understand what I felt” 

Oh forgive me angle for I’m taking your wings. 

 And so I 

fell to my knees. My hands falling too. My head hanging low. I looked at him now, he never changed his posture. I smiled. I couldn’t do it. 

“Open your eyes”

Blue now shining for the light outside, for me.

“Close your mouth”

Lips fulfilled. Together we stood on our knees. And tears fell to my growing trees.

He smiled.


The night came to an end.