._.__.~Five Years Later~.__._.

I had changed. I had changed dramatically. I was no longer Castiel Novak, the shy boy in the back of the class. I was now Z, the badass, rather gothic boy at the top of the chain of command.

After Dean, I abolished my fun, nerdy, easy-to-get-along-with lifestyle. Ever since I moved to Ohio in high school, I've been going from state to state, town to town, and since I turned twenty one, bar to bar. Living large. Without Dean.

Even though I had constructed a very secure wall, I knew I would always like him. Perhaps even love him. But there was no going back. He was nothing but a rotten piece of my past life, and I knew better than to even think about a second chance.

When I moved to Ohio soon after we ended things, I made sure to keep to myself. Not in that shy, invisible way. In that if-you've-got-a-problem-with-me-you-can-kiss-my-ass way. In short, I stopped caring.

Caring was the one thing holding me back. No more Mr. Nice Guy. Goodbye, Castiel. Hello, Z.

I had plans, believe it or not. I was going to go to college. I was going to be a marine biologist. I was going to do so much. But that all changed when I made the mistake of trusting someone with my heart. Because he crushed it. And this was the result.

Five years afterward, and I was in some bar. Per the norm. In my usual attire; black tee, black jeans, black combat boots, black leather jacket, even some black eyeliner just to top off the look. Gothic death.

I sat there in a stool by the bar, eyeing all the booze selections while the bartender wiped the counter with a white rag. I took a sip of my scotch every now and again. I let the clamor around me numb my senses until it was all nothing but white noise.

After Dean, I even started hooking up with chicks. It was a whole new me. Z, the straight bad boy.

I glanced to my left where I saw a sweet piece of tail. Long, auburn hair; crimson press-on nails with lipstick to match; a rather obvious nose job; a spray tan that wasn't fooling anyone; a tiny red top with spaghetti straps; a denim miniskirt with ripped black tights; her lips smacking as she chewed gum, staring at her iPhone.

I barely saw any of that as I shamelessly stared at her rack. This tramp was hot enough to melt ice.

I was about to offer her a drink when this big, surly guy came up to her and started making out with her. Either he really knew his way around a whore, or they were sleeping together. It didn't really surprise me; this bitch looked like she could sleep with Brad freaking Pitt if she wanted to.

I downed the last of my scotch and got it refilled. I noticed the way the bartender watched me, as though he were studying me.

"You new in town?" He asked.

I sighed, not interested in conversation at the moment. "I'm new in every town. I'm big on travel. Goin' from town to town, bar to bar, hooker to hooker. Livin' the dream." I took a swig of scotch.

He nodded. "Well, sounds like you got everything in order."

"Fuckin' chaotic is what it is. But that's just how I've spent the last few years. Except the booze. Just turned twenty one this past August. And boy, I am lovin' it." I smirked, taking another swig. A swig, not a sip. Pussies take sips.

"So where're you headin' next? Someplace exciting?"

I chuckled. "Man, I don't even know where in God's name I am now. What, Wisconsin? Minnesota?"

"Close. Iowa. Way up North. Good part of the country."

I scoffed. "Yeah, of course you'd say that. Good publicity is just what every place needs."

"Where're you from?"

"Born in Virginia. Moved to Ohio in the middle of high school. It was right around that time I became... someone else entirely. What you see now, this was born in early 2015."

"So the move, it... changed ya?"

"You could say that." I took another swig.

I looked over to my right, and I had to do a double take. Sitting at the far end of the bar, drinking a beer, was the one person I never thought I'd see again. It was him.

It was Dean.

I couldn't believe it. He was here. I simply couldn't wrap my head around that.

I flipped the collar of my jacket up, so it covered my face. Not that he would recognize me even if he saw me. I had changed that much. I wasn't the same boy he knew.

He looked older, obviously. But he still had that same charm he did five years back. His eyes still sparkled green like the grass of a meadow with dew dripping from its blades in the early hours of the morning. It was clear that he carried a weight upon his shoulders, the likes of which I couldn't place. Nauseatingly stressful, that much I could tell.

I downed the last of my scotch. "I need a shot of your strongest shit. Now." I hissed to the bartender.

He grinned as though he took pleasure in my distress. He poured a potent drink into a shot glass, the clear glass bottle unlabeled. I could tell it was strong, since I could smell it from where I sat, the scent causing my nostrils to burn slightly. Seemed promising enough.

Just the sight of the alcohol in the little glass was enough to make my insides churn. It was an unsettling shade of ruby red, but not so red it may as well have been blood.

The bartender gave me a look telling me to go for it. And I did. Anything to keep my mind off the boy sitting not ten feet away from me.

As the surprisingly smooth alcohol went down my throat, I could feel the burning taste settle on my tongue, spreading across my whole mouth, even moving to my slightly chapped lips. It raced down my throat which caused me to nearly cough up a lung. I'd never had this brand of booze in my life, and I wasn't even close to regretting that.

"What the fuck is this?" I choked out past my violent coughs.

"Jus' a little drink mix I've been workin' on. I call it Dead Red."

I groaned lightly. "Fitting. Unbelievably so."

He chuckled. "Dead Red: Taste The Red."

"I'm gettin' more of the dead part. What's in that shit?"

He grinned. "No way. That's a secret. Some secrets should stay secrets."

"Ain't that the truth?" I grumbled.

"I get the feelin' there's more to you than booze and babes. There's more to the story, I can tell."

"And... your point is?"

"What happened to you in 2015? It's not just Ohio. It's more than that. And you clearly got your way of coping, but sometimes talkin' helps too."

My lip twitched upward into a sneer. I leaned forward. "I. Built. A wall. One that can't be taken down with words. Or anything else. I have spent five years shutting the world out, and that's not going to change anytime soon. I lost my heart a long time ago, and I don't plan to get it back."

I leaned back, a bit guilty for talking him down like that. But I shook it off; I didn't need his pity. His sympathy.

He sighed lightly. "Who was it?"

I furrowed my brows. "What?"

"Who was it? Don't bother tryin' to weasel out of the question."

I sighed heavily. I lightly smacked my palm on the counter. "Dean. His name was Dean."

"Oh. His."

I glared up at him, ready for the mocking that was sure to follow. It happened every once in a blue moon that I would discuss the topic of Dean.

He just shrugged and asked, "What was he like?"

I was confused yet again. "Wait... what?"

"I don't care bout your preferences. It's all the same to me. Homophobes just need to sack up, and...-"

"Embrace the rainbow?" I finished with a smirk.

He chuckled. "That's one way of lookin' at it. C'mon, tell me bout him."

I chuckled softly. "Why should I tell you? I don't even know your name."

"Singer. Bob Singer. Tell me about your man."

"Well, Bobby, ex man, really. December 2014, that's when it all went to shit."

"You broke up."

I nodded slowly. "He dumped me. Over the phone. Of course, we couldn't exactly meet up, what with his homo fearing home. We barely managed to see each other, but we did manage. Until... that fuckin' phone call."

"Sorry. Sounds rough."

"I learned a valuable lesson that day. Never trust anyone with the real you, unless you're lookin' to cry yourself to sleep. He brought out my sensitive side. The side of me that died along with who I once was. No more Castiel Novak. Just Z."

"Z?"

"Yep. That's all I am to anyone now. Just Z."

"Why Z?"

I shook my head slowly, staring off into space. "Doesn't matter. Nothin' really matters. Not anymore."

It had been years since I told anyone so much. I would bring up Dean's name on occasion, but I normally didn't get so emotional about it.

"Tell me more about this Dean. Is he... cute, or whatever the kids are sayin' nowadays?"

I grinned and glanced at Dean, who still sat at the counter with his beer. "See for yourself."

He looked over at Dean and I looked away, blushing profusely. Here he was, in this state, in this town, in this bar. And as fate would have it, so was I.

"Oh. So that's the guy?" He looked back at me.

"That's the guy."

"Want me to... let him know you're-"

"No!" I interrupted him. "If he finds out what I turned into, he'll just blame himself for it. I don't wanna do that to him, not after all I know he's been through. He deserves better than that."

He nodded. "Okay, then. Didn't you say you're from Virginia?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well, I'm assuming he's from Virginia too. So what's he doin' here?"

"You think I know?" I muttered.

There was a pause until Bobby set a beer in front of me.

"On the house."

I muttered a thanks and took a swig. It was the smoothest beer I had in a long time. No way that was Budweiser or some shit.

I looked at the label. I didn't recognize the brand, but it was undoubtedly made in heaven's brewery. "Damn." Was all I could say.

"Whatcha think?"

"That... damn. No way you got this cheap."

"Hell no. Got 'em from my buddy, Rufus. Works this little joint way over in Idaho. Charged me thirty bucks for a six pack. The bastard."

I grinned and took another swig. If anything, it was worth the money. Kind of. And after two glasses of scotch, a shot of Red Death or whatever he called it, and seeing Dean for the first time in five years, I'd be more than happy to get a buzz off this stuff.

"You seem like a good kid. I'd hate to see ya throw your life away like this."

"What're you, my shrink? I can't go back to being plain old Castiel Novak. Cas is dead. Z is running the show now."

"I dunno. I'd like to meet Castiel."

"Did ya not hear me, old timer? He's gone. That's all there is to it." I took another swig, and I was beginning to feel the effects of alcoholism.

"I heard ya. I just don't believe ya."

"What's that s'posed to mean?" I asked, my speech becoming just a bit slurred.

"I think he's buried somewhere deep down. He's there, Z. He's just... forgotten."

I took a long swallow, my buzz at its peak. I leaned back in my seat, my posture aggressively poor. I sighed and took another swig. I could tell I was getting extremely tipsy, but I didn't care. This was a regular occurrence for me.

I started laughing quietly at nothing. I looked over to my left where that tramp still was, only this time, she was alone. For some reason unbeknownst to me, I decided to make a move on her.

I suavely slid into the seat next to her, discreetly putting my arm around her. "Hey, baby, are you an angel? Cause right now I am in heaven." I smiled.

She looked up from her phone, giving me a blank stare. "No." And she looked back at her screen.

"C'mon, sweetheart, you know you want me."

"Actually, I want you to beat it."

"I don't think you know what you want. C'mon baby, let me buy you a drink."

"Um, no."

"Come on. Give Z what he needs." I slurred, well past drunk. Everything was going by in a blurry mess.

"I'm married, you shithead."

I scoffed. "What, to Larry The Cable Guy you were swappin' spit with? You can do so much better. Like me."

"If you know what's best for you, you'll hit the bricks, jackass."

I took one last swig of beer and set it on the counter. "Your rack is huuuuge."

She slapped me and stormed off, her heels clicking as she left. But I was so drunk at this point, I just chuckled.

I looked over at Bobby. "I think she likes me."

"I think it's about time we cut you off."

I scoffed. "C'mon. I'm as sober as a judge."

"Oh really? Count down from ten."

I rolled my eyes and chuckled. I held up both of my hands, using my fingers to count down. "Ten, nine, eight... three... twelve... fuck." I slammed my palms on the countertop.

He picked up my half empty beer bottle. "Like I said, time to cut you off."

I leaned back into my seat until Mr. and Mrs. Whore approached me. I looked up at them, almost unable to tell who was who.

"Hola, mi amigos! Come join the fiesta!"

"Were you harassing my wife?" The big man asked sternly.

"Wow. She really is married. How the hell did you hit that?"

He grabbed me by my jacket and hauled me out of my seat. "That's it, you little punk!"

"Take it easy, fellas." Bobby called.

"Nobody messes with my wife! You wanna go, you little maggot?"

I laughed drunkenly. "Where're we goin'?"

"Baby, he's drunk," Slutty tried to get her husband off me. "C'mon, let's just go. You've made your point."

"God knows what he tried to do to you, Abby. Nobody gets away with that."

"Seriously though, is she blind?"

I only made matters worse. Because the last thing I remember from that night is the feeling of someone's knuckles making contact with my face.