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Moth To flame

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Castiel made his way slowly towards the ruins of the Impala and supported himself by leaning on it's side. He was sober enough to think without going in rounds but not enough to be completely rational. He looked up briefly. The lighter shade of blue of the sky signaling the end of the night. Another day is soon to start. All too soon and all too tiring.

He stroked the rusty old metal and hummed as a melancholic smile crept up his lips. It felt cold under his fingers but the touch warmed something in his heart. In these hectic insane times when he had trouble even recognizing the man in the mirror, this wreckage of once a loved home was comforting. It reminded him of times when things were simpler. When all he had to do was listen to a husky voice calling his name and the worries would settle. One look from warm green eyes would make heaven seem dim in comparison. When that green reminded him of freshly cut grass and new leaves after a heavy rain. Those green eyes still lock onto his on a daily basis and his heart still flutters hopelessly. But they no longer remind him of mowed lawns and morning dew. They are now the unnerving stillness of the bottom of an unknown lake, where wouldn't even be a ripple on the surface if Castiel let go and drowned.

He touched the sharp edges of broken glass in the windows. His mind running a mile a second. Pictures and sounds and feelings. Memories so distant and different from reality that sometimes he was confused if they ever really happened or were they just an alternate reality created by his drug induced brain. He thought of the images running through his mind and tried to make some sense of them, a tall man with sandy long hair and big hazel eyes full of love..the same man with his face twisted in rage..countless hotel rooms, narrow beds and starchy sheets..standing on a bedside looking at a sleeping face and an odd fluttering inside that’s all too familiar..freckles…green burning eyes..cocky smirks on full lips with a perfect cupid’s bow..those same lips pursed as a tear rolls down from the green orbs..freckles..freckles too close to his face, like a galaxy erupting right in front of his eyes .. touches, tender touches and soft whispers and those beautiful lips on his, tender green eyes locked with his ocean blue ones.. and change..the world changing, the man changing, the touches turned cold and bitter…soft whispers turned to harsh orders and cold lonely nights..and drugs and women..rocking against nameless and faceless soft bodies so unlike the sharp and hard one he craved, trying to convince himself this is what he wanted, what he needed .. trying but failing..trying again.. and freckles lost in splatters of blood and those eyes .. the same green eyes but so very different..pulling him in.. and in and in until-

Castiel Drew in a sharp gasp of pain as he was pulled out of his train of thoughts and looked down to his hand. He had been grasping the glass so hard that it broke skin and drew blood. He simply stared down at his hand in awe. The blood so red. So vibrant and so red. It looked alive against his deathly pale skin. Like the only splatter of paint in a sad Grey painting.

He heard moving vehicles and chatter of men from the direction of the camp's entrance. And exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding. From the distant chatters and lack of chaotic shouts, the supply run must've gone well. ' The fearless leader has returned from another perfect mission.’ He smiled sadly to himself and wrapped his arms around himself. The haze in his head was starting to clear completely. He almost wished it didn't. Without it to numb his senses it was just too much to take. There was once a time he could do anything for those warm green eyes and careless smile, as things changed that one thing remained the same. He would still jump from a cliff at the man's word. But he was tired and lonely. So sometimes he just ran. He ran but he never wanted to get away.

Like a moth to flames he would always be fluttering around. Hesitant to probe too close but never wanting to go too far.

Castiel slowly turned away from the car and started walking back to the gathering. Dawn was here with all it’s glory. And as much as he tried, he knew he cant step away. He would be there day after day and night after night. He would be there after every mission to patch up the man who took him apart and knitted him back together repeatedly. And he would accept the rough touches and fervent pants and the hollow ringing in his head. He would drink up the cold green of those eyes and drown again. And again. A thousand times.

Castiel looked up at the sky , inhaling the morning breeze. As thoughts of freshly mowed grass and sun-kissed freckled skin invaded his mind. Of careless smiles and warm touches.

And kept walking.