After about two hours of nothing but quiet music on the radio, Dean pulled the car over, leaning back in his seat.

"What're you doin'?" I asked.

"I'm beat. We've been driving for hours now. I need a breather."

"At this rate, we'll make it to Canada right around the time hell is scheduled to freeze over."

"Would you relax? That's what I'm gonna do."

"Yeah, while you're busy nappin', we're losin' daylight."

"Well, if you're so fucking eager to get there, why don't you drive?"

"Well maybe I will." I shot back sassily.

It wasn't long before we switched seats, and I was driving for the first time in... hell, forever. Frozen reference, anyone?

After about a half hour, it started getting dark. The sun was setting on the horizon, turning the sky a pinkish orange. I had to admit, it was a beautiful sight.

"Look at that sunset. It's... pretty great," I looked over at Dean and realized he had fallen asleep. I grinned. "Probably why I thought I was gay. Fuckin' sunsets."

It wasn't long before I started getting tired. But I fought to stay awake. I wasn't one for falling asleep at the wheel. Well, until now.

The sun had completely set, leaving a blanket of night overhead, sprinkled with bright stars. It didn't help my feeling of drowsiness. I was fucking exhausted.

My eyelids were impossibly heavy as I drove down that endless road. I was awoken by the occasional passing car, their headlights shining right in my eyes.

I cranked up the music on the radio, and I realized what sort of music he was listening to. This particular station was playing Iggy fucking Azalea. What the hell?

I changed the station until I found one playing nothing but classic rock. I smiled as AC/DC poured out of the speakers.

But even that wasn't enough to keep me from yawning. Next thing I knew, there was the sound of yelling, tires screeching, and horns blaring.

It all happened in a big blur. I wasn't even sure what was happening until the car stopped. Oh shit. I fell asleep, didn't I?

"Cas, what the fuck?" Dean asked.

"I... I don't know. I... fell asleep, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did. Jesus, Cas. Maybe I should drive."

"Let's just stop here for the night." I yawned, leaning back against the headrest.

"You sure? I've had a bit of rest, I'm good to drive."

"I thought I was... good to drive. And I... wrecked the... fucking car." I began to trail off, falling asleep again.

"Well, you didn't wreck the car. You almost did, but you didn't."

I tried to say "Just fucking go to sleep" but I was so tired, it came out as "Jus'... fuck... sleep." And I was out till morning.

I awoke to the sensation of movement. I looked around and realized I was laid out in the backseat. I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep until I realized Dean was driving.

"Where are we?" I mumbled, my words jumbling together a little.

Dean took a quick glance back at me. "Still in Minnesota. Like in the middle somewhere. I don't fuckin' remember."

"Why're you doin' this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why're you goin' to so much trouble for me?"

"Cause I owe ya. After everything that's happened to you, I figured I owed you this much."

I yawned, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "How long you been drivin'?"

"Just since five or six."

"What time's it now?"

"Right around... noon. Made a stop or two along the way. Picked up some necessities."

"What sorta necessities?"

"Gas, food, water, etcetera."

"Any smokes? I'm almost out."

"I didn't get you any Marlboro shit."

"Why the fuck not?" I asked irritably.

"Cause it's not good for you. It can kill you."

"In case you haven't noticed, that's not a downside for me, Dean."

"Jesus, Cas. Smoking, drinking, drugs, is there anything you haven't done in the last five years?"

"Haven't died. Which is something I should try."

All of a sudden, Dean slammed on the brakes, which nearly caused me to fly off the seat. He turned to face me, fire in his eyes.

"Dammit Cas! Don't you talk like that! You hear me? Don't you dare! I nearly killed myself about a hundred times until I met you! And you know that! I cut myself for five years! Until I met you! You! Fucking! Know! That! I know you're hurting, but you shouldn't fucking do that! Don't even fucking think like that! Don't!"

I felt like a crappy human being. I knew Dean nearly killed himself in Maryland all those years ago. I knew he was depressed as fuck. But so was I.

I kept my emotions bottled up for five years. All my sadness, all my anger, all of it. Just kept inside. And now the volcano was about to erupt.

I could feel the tears making their way to my eyes. I might've cried yesterday, and the day before that, and so on, but this was different. This was because of past pain. The pain I kept hidden away. The pain I kept to myself. The pain I never properly dealt with.

I turned over so my back was facing Dean. "Okay." My voice trembled as my tears overflowed. I wouldn't let him see. I couldn't let him see. I didn't need his pity. I didn't need it.

"Cas...-"

He let the sentence hang. I heard the door open and close, and soon heard my door open. I felt a hand on my shoulder. His hand.

"You okay?"

As if he didn't know the answer.

I jumped up, clambering into his arms. I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed into his shoulder. I didn't know what to do anymore. He started rubbing my back up and down.

"Shh, it's okay. It's okay, Cas." He whispered.

I sobbed and sobbed forever, until I pretty much lost it. And in my deranged state of mind, I started singing.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine," I began choking out the words.

"You make me happy when skies are grey."

Dean joined in, which surprised me. "You never know, dear, how much I love you.

Please don't take my sunshine away."

I continued to sob, mumbling, "I need my monster. I need my monster. I need my monster."

Dean just shushed me. "It's okay. You don't need your monster, Cas. You don't need it. You can say no, Cas. You can say no." I was pretty sure he was crying too, but I couldn't tell.

"I need it. I need it. I fucking need it." My voice was barely above a whisper.

He took a deep breath. "C'mon, Cas. Keep it together, man."

I only sobbed more. I was an emotional wreck, simply because I didn't accept them when I should've. I could barely even breathe, I was crying so hard. I was just taking in short gasps of air.

"Cas, you've gotta breathe. Deep breaths. C'mon, in and out."

He helped me regulate my breathing, which didn't help my uncontrollable sobbing. I was a mess. To put it simply, a mess. All the drugs, all the smoking, all the drinking, they were just factors that added up to that one simple fact. I became a hopeless train wreck, so I drowned my sorrows in crack, nicotine, and whiskey. It was all I could do. It was all I could do.

"I don't need your pity. I... I don't... need it." I wailed.

He held me tighter, trying to solace me. I gripped his shirt tightly, continuously crying into his shoulder.

I hadn't cried like this in years. Last time I cried this hard, it was when... as a matter of fact, it was the first time I ever cut myself. Before I even met Dean. Or possibly the night I finished Twist And Shout. The T&S feels, man.

I started to relax a little, the feeling of Dean's body against mine rather soothing. My eyes didn't burn as much and my throat felt less tightened.

Dean started rubbing my back again. "It's okay. Just relax. You'll be okay."

"I-I'm the opposite of... okay, Dean." I sniffed.

"Shh, you'll be just fine. This is just your emotions finally being let out. You'll feel better."

"I d-doubt it." I let out a shaky breath.

"You'll feel better, I promise. I promise."

I relaxed into his hold, his warmth blanketing me. It felt soothing and welcoming, like I was meant to spend eternity in his arms. But I kept telling myself no. I can't feel that way about Dean again. I wouldn't make the same mistake twice. I was no fool. Well, I was, but not so much that I would trust him again.

I would never trust anyone again.

"You good?" Dean asked softly.

But I didn't answer. I had no answer. I was sad and exhilarated and pissed all at the same fucking time. It's like I grew a vagina or some shit.

But most of all, I was fucking exhausted. I just wanted to sleep and never wake up. Fucking hibernate. Just sleep till fucking February. Though, to be honest, I didn't know what month it was at the moment. It could've been July or September for all I knew.

I was just about to fall asleep when he whispered, "Cas?"

I decided to pretend I was asleep. Maybe that way he'd leave me back here and start driving. I was dead set on escaping America. I mean, maybe Canada wasn't really so bad, eh?

He must've bought the act, because he gently laid me back on the seats. I felt his hand in my hair, massaging my scalp. It felt nice, I had to admit, but that didn't mean I'd go crawling back anytime soon. I still had... scraps of my pride. Sort of.

Just when I was about to fall asleep for real, I felt his lips on my forehead. That was definitely enough to keep me awake.

But I kept my eyes shut, making sure he still thought I was asleep. I suddenly felt a cold draft where he once was. There was the sound of my door closing, and I started shivering. I did my best to control it, I hated people knowing that I was cold. I was supposed to be immune.

I heard Dean get in the car, starting the engine. I felt warm air blast through the heater, which felt heavenly on my ice cold skin. I sighed with content, adjusting my position slightly.

We began down the road again, the vibration in the seats massaging my whole body. I started to realize how long it had been since my last shower. My clothes reeked of pure sin. Whiskey and scotch mostly. Smoke, sweat, and what I could only assume was blood. Yeah, sin.

I was doing a shitty job of taking care of myself. Then again, what's the point? I'll probably die of liver failure in a fucking week, tops. What's the point of living if you have nothing to live for? All I had was booze, smokes, and frisky women.

I tried not to think about what just happened. Dean. Kiss. And, well, shit. I wouldn't let him lure me back in. That seductive motherfucker. I wouldn't fall prey to his tricks again.

I knew I still felt things for him. Things I shouldn't feel. Things that made my head spin like a top. That boy drove me mad day and night. Why did I feel this way?

It's as if my heart wanted to break all over again. Didn't I learn my lesson? No one is to be trusted. No matter the circumstances. Trust, I will not.

Random memory. Crowley. The very first reject of my life.

That didn't hurt as much. I mean, obviously it hurt, but not as much as I thought it would. I found it peculiarly easy to move on. It was far too easy.

I found myself drifting, about to fall asleep, when I heard myself mutter, "He said no." And I was out.