Blue Eyes

It had been a long time since Castiel had felt like himself. He'd gotten lost in his head, and seemed to lose part of himself by doing so. 

He used to be really straight edge, and if you asked him, boring. He was so absorbed in his work that nothing else seemed important most of the time. He even managed to get on the New York Time's best seller's list. His book stayed on that list, unwavering, for a full 3 weeks.

And then, summer came. Summer came, and everything changed. He was thrown out of his world and out of his comfort zone. He changed that day, and he still wasn't sure if it was for the best.

The days before Cas met Dean were far less eventful.

Three before, Cas was in his house most of the day, staring at a blank computer screen with a killer case of writer's block. The night was spent with him staring at a piece of paper, pencil gripped firmly in his hands, in the same position. He'd been doing well at first,  got out 10 paragraphs of something brand new in 20 minutes. He'd always had more luck with the old school method. Then he reread it. To him, it seemed like something a freshman would lazily turn in for a Creative Writing class in the hopes of a simple passing grade.

So it was shit. 

He stayed there until about two in the morning, writing and erasing and writing and erasing,when he finally gave up and went to bed.

Two days before was more or less the same, but he took a break in between for a movie marathon. He fell asleep on the couch until midnight, where he got up and dragged himself back to bed. 

The day before, his pattern was interrupted by his phone buzzing. 

It was a text.

cas? 

The name above the message was one he was actually glad to see. He picked up his phone and typed a message back.

Hey, Charlie. 

Charlie had been Castiel's closest friend since grade school. They were practically inseparable until their twenties, and if you happened to be lucky enough to be around them  in their college years, you'd know that. Charlie was the only one Cas really let his guard down around back then, and their laughter often roared through any room they were in. 

 busy?

Cas looked from his paper, littered with crossed out mistakes and scattered notes to himself but lacking much progress, back to his phone screen.

No, not really.

so how bout i come over today?

I'm probably gonna be boring today, I haven't gotten any work done in ages. 

boring "today"?

Shut up. Plus, won't Gilda wonder where you are?

im coming over. i could do this thing where i tell her, you know, communicate

Bring takeout?

duh.

Charlie arrived sometime after 6, carrying two large brown bags. Cas grinned, taking them from her and setting them down on the counter. 

"King's?" He asked.

The redhead gave him a look. "Where else? They have the best Chinese food in the country, it's even on their menus." 

Castiel chuckled. She wasn't wrong, the words were typed in italics on the front of their menus. In his defense, he hadn't even looked at the menu in years. They got the same thing more or less every single time. 

Charlie was already pulling containers out of the bag, moving around and grabbing plates from the cupboards like they were her own.

"When's the last time you got out of the house?"

"Depends."

"No it doesn't, Cas. I mean out of the house. Not like, grocery shopping or something."

"Oh." Cas debating lying, and decided against it. Charlie would know. "It's been a couple days."

"I'm glad I came to rescue you, then."

"I don't need rescuing!" Cas sounded petulant. He sighed. "Writing takes up time."

Charlie clicked her tongue. "There are other things in the world. I thought you'd gotten out of that mindset.

Castiel shrugged, helping her plate. "Really bad case of writer's block. It's driving me up a wall, Charlie."

She stopped what she was doing and put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "You need to get out of your head, that never ends well."

She was right. Castiel didn't acknowledge her, though. Instead, he cleared his throat and clasped his hands together once. "What are we watching?" 

Charlie knew not to press it. "I still haven't made you watch all the good movies."

"All the good movies? Charlie, there are so many movies."

"And, you're missing out on all of them. You're lucky to have me."

She grabbed her plate and winked, carrying it into the living room. 

"Charlie!" Cas called, uselessly. He never liked eating greasy foods in the living room and she knew that. But, that's where his tv was. She wasn't gonna move. 

He sighed and grabbed his own plate, and about 60 napkins, and followed her. 

"In he comes!" Charlie was already cross legged on his couch. Cas used his free hand to throw some of the napkins at her. 

"Use them maybe?"

"Maybe. So what are you in the mood for?"

Cas sighed, settling down. A finished book?  To actually get out of his own head?  "Comedy."

"That narrows it down." 

"You're the one with the extensive list, you can't blame me." 

Charlie huffed. "I'm going with The Producers, with Gene Wilder.  You're gonna love it."

"You haven't been wrong yet."

The movie was hysterical. Cas as almost in tears laughing, and he wasn't even twenty minutes in. Bloom was in hysterics about a blanket, there was yelling and jumping. Cas couldn't relay many of the lines if you asked, they were droned out by Charlie's laughter and his own.

His mind really was off everything. They'd both cleaned their plates and laughed until their ribs hurt. That was, until his mind started wandering against his will.

Cas was standing in his room, tears stinging his cheeks. His heart ached and he felt like his knees would give out at any second. In a fit, he grabbed the closest thing to him and hurled it. The mug smacked the wall and shattered. It wasn't enough. The broken mug didn't fix it. He couldn't even remember why the mug had been there. Obviously smashing it didn't fix it. It just made another mess. He'd have to clean it up. 

Why couldn't breaking things fix the world's problems, or at least his own? Why couldn't shattered ceramics bring her back?

Cas slid onto the floor, his back to his bed, with heavy sobs. His head was in his hands and his whole body shook with every breath he took. He genuinely wondered if heartbreak could kill him. He felt like, at any moment, he'd break. He'd break like the mug did, shatter in a hundred pieces. That would probably hurt less.

No, it would definitely hurt less. 

He couldn't bring her back, but he could lose himself. 

Why couldn't he lose himself?

"Cas?" Charlie's voice broke through his thoughts. "Castiel?"

Cas blinked back into present time. "Yes?"

She sighed lightly and put her arm around him. "You good?"

"I'm good." Cas's voice was insistent. "I am."

"Then keep watching. LSD's gonna audition." Charlie patted her friend's back and pulled her hand back.

"What?" 

"Nothing, just watch that guy."

And Cas did. He watched the rest of the movie with his friend by his side. He chuckled a few times, and took comfort in Charlie's presence. 

She left after, they hugged and she insisted he get some sleep. He promised he would, and Charlie added that she was only a phone call away. Cas knew this, and was grateful for it, but just rolled his eyes. That earned him a "gentle" punch in the arm.

And Cas did go to sleep. It took a couple hours of staring blankly at the ceiling, but sleep came.  He counted it as a blessing.