A/N: Trigger warning! There's talk and evidence of self harm (but I will never show a character actually cutting) Wow, this is not where I thought this story was going oops sorry!
"I know it's a mess," Dean says as he pushes open the door to his apartment. "Sorry about that."
Castiel shrugs. "I live with nine other people. I'm pretty used to messy houses."
"So, what do you want to do?" Dean asks.
Castiel shrugs again. "I don't know. We could watch a movie or something."
"Alright, whatcha want to watch?"
Castiel shrugs again. "I don't care."
Dean grins. "You might regret saying that."
Castiel frowns. "You keep saying that and it never turns out well."
Dean laughs evilly as he puts a DVD in the DVD player. Castiel tries to see what it is, but Dean purposely blocks it with his body. Castiel sighs and sits down on the couch. When the movie starts, Dean turns off the lights and sits next to him, but a decent distance apart.
Castiel can tell immediately it's a horror movie. He frowns. He hates horror movies. He'll just have to suck it up for now. He told Dean he didn't care, so he should have expected this. He'll just calm down and not freak out.
Or not.
At the first jump scare, Castiel yelps and curls up in a little ball, leaning towards Dean without meaning to. Dean just laughs and puts his arm around him to comfort him. Castiel looks at him in surprise, and he smiles back.
"Do you not want to watch this?" Dean offers.
"No, not really," Castiel replies.
Dean reaches for the remote without taking his arm away and turns the tv off before setting the remote on the table. It's dark now, but Castiel can still feel Dean looking at him. Castiel looks back at him, their eyes locking though they're barely visible in the dark.
Castiel doesn't know what comes over him to make him do this, but he wraps his arms around Dean's neck and starts to kiss him. Dean kisses him back, but pulls away after a moment. Castiel's hope which had been created when he returned the kiss falls.
Surprisingly, all Dean says is, "Are you sure you want to do this? Might not sit well with you when the alcohol wears off."
"I'm not drunk, Dean," he replies. "I'm definitely not sober, but I'm not drunk."
Dean chuckles. "That's what I was hoping to hear."
He kisses Castiel, and he kisses back. It's not slow and sweet, but fast and passionate. He feels Dean reach for the hem of his shirt, and then pauses. Castiel pulls it over his head himself, showing Dean he doesn't mind. Together, they get Dean's shirt off, and he throws it on the floor. Castiel runs his hands over Dean's back, feeling his muscles. He reaches for the button of Dean's pants, but the door opens and the light turns on. The two pull apart quickly to see Sam and Gabriel standing in the doorway. They shut the door quickly, pretending they saw nothing.
"Sam's staying at my house tonight!" Gabriel yells through the door.
Dean sighs, sounding defeated as he lies back on the couch. Suddenly, he pulls his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. It's too late, though. Castiel already saw everything.
"What happened to you?" Castiel asks quietly. He traces one of the scars on Dean's shoulder with his finger. Dean flinches, almost imperceptibly.
"Nothing," he mutters, quickly reaching for his shirt to put on over it.
Castiel takes his arm, not wanting Dean to hide himself. Dean hesitates, but lies back on the couch again. Without his legs in the way, Castiel can see everything. He can see all the scars from old wounds, more than Castiel had thought possible. He can see the fresh wounds on the inside of his forearms, these ones self-inflicted, hidden from sight. Castiel looks at him in wonder. 
"Dean, what happened?" he asks quietly, looking at the old scars. Dean looks down at the floor, so Castiel gently puts a hand under his chin and moves his face towards his.
Dean's eyes don't meet Castiel's. "It's nothing," he mutters.
"Who did this to you?" Castiel asks, but he doesn't respond. "Dean, who did this?" he asks again, with more urgency in his voice.
"My... My dad," he replies quietly.
Castiel's eyes go wide. He's heard of child abuse, but this? This seems like child torture. "Your dad?" he repeats. "Why?"
"It doesn't matter. It's over."
Castiel turns his arm around to reveal the fresher cuts, probably only a few days old. "This doesn't look over to me."
Dean pulls his arm away quickly. "It's nothing," he says again.
"Dean, this isn't nothing," Castiel says, then realizes how upset he sounds and continues in a calmer tone, "Just talk to me. Please. Tell me what happened to you."
Dean sighs. "Alright. Um... Well, we used to be a normal, happy family. Then my mom died when I was four in a fire at our house. My dad handed me my little brother and told me to take him outside as fast as I could while he went to go find my mom. The firefighters had to drag him out of there, because my mother was already gone.
"My dad loved her. They had what he considers a perfect marriage, and I can almost agree. So when he couldn't save her and she died, he took it hard. He'd get drunk everyday, but I was okay with that. During the day, I was at school, so I wouldn't have to deal with him. If he was still awake when I got home, that was when I knew I had a problem."
There are tears coming from his eyes as he remembers his painful past. Castiel puts an arm around him reassuringly.
"He'd... He'd hit me. Whip me. Cut me. Burn me. And he wouldn't care."
Castiel doesn't know what to say at first, so he's silent. Finally, he says, "But your dad's in jail now, right?"
Dean nods. "Yeah. About four years now."
"Four years?" Castiel repeats. "So the entire time you were a kid, he was still there?"
Dean nods. "Yeah. The day I turned eighteen, my brother called the cops on him. He said that since I was a legal adult, I'd be able to take him in. It was a difficult fight, but I won it, and I took him in with me. He never had to deal with our dad like I did, so they didn't think he would need therapy or whatever. They just weren't sure that I could take care of him after what my dad did to me. They didn't realize that, since the day he turned six months old, that's all I've been doing."
Realization dawns on Castiel. "Your little brother Sam..."
Dean nods. "My little brother Sam," he confirms.
So Sam's been through all this, watched all these attacks on his brother, and he was still strong enough to call the police. Smart enough to know that if he waited, he could stay with his brother, though it must have hurt him, not being able to call sooner. And now, just looking at him, you'd never guess he'd been through anything like this. He seems like a normal, happy kid.
"But his last name is Campbell," Castiel observes. "Why isn't it Winchester?"
"He got it legally changed as soon as our dad was locked up. He didn't want to be associated with him. He basically wanted to start over. So, he took our mother's last name."
"Why didn't you?" Castiel asks.
"Because I don't want to forget," he replies. "I can't forget. It's engraved in my head as much as it is on my body. Our dad never touched Sam. The only memories he has of this is my screams and the blood on the carpet that our dad couldn't get out. It's easy for Sam to get over it, but it made me who I am. I can't just pretend it never happened."
Castiel picks up Dean's arm again, revealing his cuts. "So you did this?"
Dean pulls his arm away again but doesn't say anything.
"Dean, why?" Castiel asks. "Why did you do that?"
Dean hugs his arms around his torso. "My dad... He used to tell me that I should have died in that fire, not my mom." He takes a deep breath, then finishes, "And he was right."
Castiel can't contain the small gasp that comes out when he hears that. "No way," he says quickly. "It's horrible that your mother didn't make it. Really, it is. But don't think for a second that things would have been better if you took her place."
"It would have been," he replies. "My mother was perfect. She could do anything. What have I done with my life?"
"You raised your brother all by yourself," Castiel reminds him.
Dean scoffs. "Yeah, barely. I had to steal half the stuff I gave him, and even then, sometimes he'd go hungry. My mom would have done a much better job at that than I did."
"Your brother would go hungry?" Castiel repeats. "What about you?"
"I was lucky if I got a meal every other day," Dean replies. "It didn't matter to me, though. As long as Sammy was okay."
"Why?" Castiel asks. "Why was your brother so much more important to you than yourself?"
"When my dad handed me my baby brother and told me to take him outside, he became my responsibility. I would do anything for him."
"And what about yourself?" Castiel asks. "Do you not believe you deserve to be saved?"
Dean just looks at the floor. Castiel gently moved his face back up.
"Dean, you're worth it. Promise me something, okay?"
"What?" Dean asks.
"Always keep fighting," Castiel replies. "No matter what, always keep fighting."
"I don't know if I can do that," Dean says quietly. "As soon as Sammy leaves for college, there will be nothing left for me here. The only thing that's kept me going for the last seventeen years is knowing that Sam needed me. He's almost eighteen now. Pretty soon, he won't need me anymore. No one will."
Castiel looks at him sadly, and he can hear how sincere Dean is when he says that. He cups Dean's face in his hands.
"I need you," he whispers, and he leans in to kiss him. Dean kisses back without hesitation, wrapping his arms around Castiel's waist. It's not a needy kiss, but slow and sweet. They stay like that for what feels like forever, but to them, it can never be long enough.