Cas
“I haven’t had to fight for myself for a long time, and that’s because of you, old man. You saved me.”
Oak’s grave looks darker and darker each time I visit him. I’m not sure why I make the trip out here, it leaves me feeling worse than when I arrived. But, it’s good to offload the shit on my mind.
“I’m good at fighting for everyone I care about, but it’s made me weak fighting against the one woman who give me a shit load of insecurities. I’m tired of fighting, Oak.”
“I know how that feels.”
I spin around and find Jacqueline standing ten feet away from me. Her scarf slips from her shoulder showing her bony collarbone, making me shudder. She’s not a healthy slim, she’s the kind of slim that screams she’s ill, severely ill. Her hair holds no vibrancy, and her eyes show no joy. Like a shell, she seems empty on the inside.
“Are you following me?” I growl, not giving two fucks about her frailness.
“I wanted to catch you alone.”
“You shouldn’t be here, this is a special place for my family.”
She walks closer and stands beside me. I don’t like her being this close, she makes me feel itchy, but I can’t move.
“There are a lot of headstones with Lost Souls etched into them, did you know them all?”
Hearing her talk of Lost Souls, bearing in mind she doesn’t have a fucking clue what it means, is alien to me.
I side glance at her and take in how small she is. The hospital records come back to me, she doesn’t look strong enough to swat a fly. I don’t feel sorry for her, but I do decide to give her five minutes. It will definitely make my Alannah happy and keep her off my back.
“I knew most of them, some of them were before my time here,” I tell her.
Silence surrounds us as I wait for her to speak.
“I wasn’t surprised to find out the sisters named you Castiel. If I could’ve kept you, I was going to name you Gregory.”
I snort. What a fucking terrible name. I may hate my name because it wasn’t from my mother but if that’s the shit she had planned for me, I’m fucking glad.
“If we’re going to do tit for tat on the past, then I hated my name because you weren’t the one who gave it to me, but it’s sure as shit better than Gregory.”
“I suppose you’re right, I was never good at making the right decisions.”
Her self-doubt brings me to ask her, “How did you find me?”
“I went back to the church where I left you and started my search from there.”
Back to the scene of the original crime. I turn towards her and she mirrors me.
“Why now?”
“For the first time in thirty-five years, I’m free to find you, to speak to you and see the man you’ve become.”
This sparks a lot more questions, but I refrain from asking them all and think of one.
“Who are you now free from?”
“My husband.”
Okay, one more question and I’m leaving.
“Was he my father?”
She becomes fidgety and looks away. It’s the only answer I need. However, I faintly hear her say, “Yes.”
I don’t feel any better having it confirmed and I walk towards my bike.
“Can we talk again?” she calls out.
I stop and take a deep breath.
“I’ll be here at the same time tomorrow.”
I don’t turn to face her. I can’t look at her. I keep walking and keep my back to her.
I thought I’d feel something if I spoke with her, yet, by the time I get back to the club, I still feel nothing. I feel more about drinking Oak’s favourite brand of whiskey and relish the burn as it soaks my throat.
“Cas,” Slade hollers from the door.
The concern in his voice manages to seep through the drink haze, and I slide off the stool and go to see what has him calling me outside.
I don’t need to ask what’s going on when I step out the door, Dex is stumbling about the place, drunk off his ass, worse than me.
“I want my fucking keys,” he shouts and swigs from a bottle of tequila.
“Where is he wanting to go?” I ask Slade.
“I haven’t got a clue.”
“Okay, who has his keys?”
He chuckles and points over to Pope. The kid has no chance of retrieving them from our brother.
I walk over to Dex and the stench of booze is heavy on him.
“Talk to me, what’s going on?” I ask him.
“She’s always there when I shut my eyes, I can’t get her out of my head.”
Melissa.
I thought he was stronger than this, or at least, able to deal better.
“The drink isn’t helping you, pass it over,” I order, and it tears him in two.
“Give it to me, Dex,” I urge and hold my hand out.
Reluctantly, he hands it over and I pass it behind me and it disappears from my grip. I move forward and pull Dex against me.
“Pull yourself together, brother. She’s gone, she’s not real.”
His body slouches and it takes a lot to keep him on his feet. He’s heavier than he looks and the whiskey I’ve been sinking isn’t helping me.
“What I did was real,” he groans.
I freeze. Why can’t people own the shit they do? He made a decision and he needs to fucking own it.
“Let’s go for a walk.”
I don’t have to repeat myself. He keeps it together and doesn’t question me when we walk out of the gates and keep walking up the main road.
“We’re going to keep walking until you’ve dealt with this shit.”
He falls behind me and stops.
“Deal with it?” he spits, “Like it’s that easy?”
I move so fast he doesn’t have time to dodge me. I yank him forward by his cut and he sobers up very quickly. I have no tolerance for his weakness today.
“Yes,” I grunt, “It’s that fuckin’ easy. You had a choice and you chose the club, which you swore to protect till you took your final breath. I’ve got enough to deal with without you breaking down over a woman you barely knew. She wasn’t the one for you, she was a cunt who didn’t know how to shut her fuckin’ mouth.”
My rant comes to an end and I shove him back so hard, he falls on his ass. My body is shaking, anger is taking over and no amount of deep breathing is helping.
“It would never have worked between you and her, if you really loved her, there’s no way in hell you could’ve killed her. So, cut the fuckin’ dramatics and sober the fuck up.”
I can’t think or see past the rage. Kicking at the dust by the edge of the road doesn’t help and I turn back to Dex.
“I’ve put blood, sweat, tears, fuckin’ everything into this patch. If you can’t do the same, tell me now and I’ll rip yours right off you.”
I turn away from him, no longer able to stand the sight of him. I struggle to regain a steady breath. I’m losing control and I don’t like it. I’ve spent years fighting against this and it’s taking seconds to unravel.
“Don’t come back to the club till you’ve found your fuckin’ balls and you remember why you were given the patch. I know why I was given mine and I don’t cry over it, I suggest you do the same.”
I leave him on the side of the road and walk back to the club. Slade is hovering by the gates and he follows closely as I storm into the bar. Yet again, he looks concerned, but this time it’s for me.
“I don’t want to see him again until he finds his fuckin’ balls.”
“He’s our brother, Cas.”
“Not until he starts acting like it,” I snarl and snatch a bottle of whiskey from the bar.
Slade puts his hand on my shoulder, I shrug him off and back away. I take the stairs up to my old room and lock myself inside. I fall onto the couch and slump my boots on the small table. I twist the cap off and take a long, long drink.
Fuck the whores who abandon their kid and fuck the brothers who can’t handle making a decision.
Fuck everything.