Archive of Our Own ^beta

The briny seawater left the air heavy with moisture. The metallic taste of salt was apparent to Castielle’s taste buds as she tiptoed along the edge of the razor sharp cliff, arms spread like a sparrow’s wings. Slightly pressuring her weight on to one leg, she observed the small piece of earth effortlessly crumble beneath her and be consumed whole by the relentless, violent, raging waves. They snarled, daring her to succumb to their promise of freedom. Her body might be chained to the planet, but her spirit did not belong here. Castielle was an angel. She felt everything too intensely, too deeply; the pain of this world was too much to bear. Castielle was a lost star. She longed to be found, to be isolated no more. Castielle was a butterfly. Her wings were so delicate; a single brush against them could destroy their fragile fluttering.

Crash!

The pink, satin ballet shoe had slipped from her slender foot, sending it spiralling down towards the jagged rocks. It perished instantly. Painlessly. All traces of the slipper were washed away with the ocean current. She could just simply disappear; no one would care enough to look for her. Castielle would cease to exist, and not a soul would know about it. The brief letter that rested on her pillow would settle any questions. The psych ward would write her off as another run away basket case. It was all too easy. Everything was easy when you had no ties to the world. If no one in the world cared about you, did you really exist at all?

 Her father, the last person on earth that gave a damn about her, had abandoned Castielle with nothing but a blue post-it note with a hastily scribbled “sorry” on it. Her mother had died 10 years ago when Castielle was just eight years old. Cancer. Castielle was left in the care of her never sober brother, Michael, who had a tendency to be very violent at times. She truly had no one.

Raven black locks, a porcelain complexion and pansy blue eyes made a very unusual combination, one that people didn’t know how to react to. Where all of the girls at her school had curves and soft features, she was all bones and angles. Lisa, the raining homecoming queen champion for three years straight, had legs that went on for miles, sun-kissed skin and a soft, sleek, golden mane. Castielle had chicken limbs, a near translucent pallor, and unruly curls. If Castielle was a pebble, Lisa was a diamond. Her peers had definitely noticed this and avoided her like she was chewing gum on the pavement.

 Castielle wasn’t always an outcast. She used to wish to be someone like Lisa. She used to try to be someone like Lisa. Back when she cared. Pouty pink lips that tasted of strawberries, barbie blonde hair and a caramel fake tan, she tried so hard to be a person her mother would be proud of. Maintaining an A grade was difficult, maintaining her social status was torture. For a few short months though, Castielle was top of the food chain, the girl every boy would die for. Her rise to the throne was as vast as her fall. The night that her dad left, she broke down. The realisation that she would never be good enough for anyone, even for her own father, was too overwhelming. Castielle shaved every last peroxide bleached strand of hair, scrubbed at her skin like it was a stubborn stain, and screamed at the steam fogged mirror until her voice gave out. Her tears never stopped as she lay awake all night, thoughts stinging her brain like hornets. She never cried again.

Thousands of eyes were all focused on her as she entered the school building. No one said a word, no one met her eyes, they just stared. At lunch time the hall was buzzing with rumours, each one more venomous than the last. Castielle spent her lunch period in a supply cupboard, desperate to get away from them all. She was constantly conflicted as to whether she should kill herself or kill everyone else. Eventually, everyone found out about her father leaving and stopped looking at her, realising there was not much to gossip about. Being ignored was even worse than the stares. She would even welcome their curious eyes now, if it meant someone actually cared, just a little bit. All of her old ‘friends’ moved on, Castielle could hardly be top of the popularity ladder looking the way she did, even if her hair was growing back. She was of no benefit to them.

Only one person would ever talk to her, and she was certain it was because he was far too kind for his own good. Dean’s personality was reflected in his looks, with his candy green apple eyes, rose petal lips and constellations of freckles sprinkled on his high cheekbones. His dad had run away too, leaving Dean in charge of his younger brother, Sammy. Dean was the one soul Castielle felt could understand her; he didn’t pity her like the rest of them. Around Dean, she was just Cas, nothing more nothing less, she never had to act around him. He was her one indulgence. But she knew where she stood with Dean. Family always came first, she was replaceable. Castielle never resented him for it, after all, Sammy was all Dean had and he would always come first. She didn’t mind being his second choice, just content to be his choice at all. But fifteen days ago, Dean got a call from his dad, asking him to come out to where he was living now. Dean did. He just dropped everything and left with Sammy, not even waiting to talk to Castielle about it, his goodbye sent by text. Once again, she had thought she meant more to someone than she actually did. After a week without him, Cas found out just how much he meant to her. Two weeks without him was unbearable. They had gone from seeing each other every day to him ignoring all of her texts and rejecting her calls, as if they were strangers. She couldn’t understand what she had done wrong. Had he finally grasped just how pathetic she was? Had he found a new best friend to waste his days with? Did he ever really like her at all?

Castielle had texted him this morning, with a simple “goodbye” just like the one he had sent her. She gingerly took out the phone, handling it as if it were a poisonous snake.  Dean hadn’t replied. With a sharp twist of her bony wrist, the phone sank into the waters below, along with all thoughts of Dean. He didn’t care. Just like everybody else.

The sky was a miserable shade of grey; the wind whipped her emaciated frame. A storm was coming. It was as if the weather was mourning her death already. She was ready. It would be over quickly, the furious, icy waves would swallow her like a pill. Maybe, if she was lucky, her skull would strike against the spiked boulders, rendering her unconscious, so she wouldn’t struggle. Castielle sat on the rough, dusty ground, her pin thin legs dangling off the edge. She didn’t cry; she wasn’t sad. In fact, she felt strangely euphoric. She was in control. Her heartbeat kept its fixed rhythm, her palms devoid of sweat.

“Cas! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” An extremely familiar voice shouted.

She turned her body around to face him. There he was, her Dean, complete with his old leather jacket he never took off.

“What are you doing here? How did you find me?” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the crashing water.

“Your phone has a tracker, jackass.”

“Why are you even here, Dean?” His name tasted bitter on her tongue.

“I’m here because I care about you! We’re friends, Cas, that’s what friends do.” The sea was calming, his words were quieting. She wanted to believe him, but she knew he didn’t mean it.

“Yeah, it sure seemed like you cared when you took off like that, running after daddy.”

“I was just trying to do what was best for Sammy.” Dean said, more to himself.

“Then why didn’t you answer my calls? I get it, Dean, you didn’t have to come all the way down here to play the hero, go and be with Sammy and your father. You know, the man who walked out on you and left you to look after your eight year old brother when you were just twelve?” She was saying anything that came into her mind; her only aim was to hurt him.

“That’s not fair and you know it, Cas! I didn’t answer you because I needed to forget about you. I knew it wasn’t likely that I’d be coming back to this town. Talking to you would wreck me, hearing about all the new friends you would make, your college plans, boyfriends, while I was stuck looking after my dad who’s just had a stroke while trying to keep up with my three jobs to pay for Sammy to go to law school. The kid wants to go to Harvard, you know.” Dean smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m sorry about your dad. It’s great that Sammy’s aiming so high, he’ll do it; he’s a smart boy.”

“Yeah, but Cas, what are you doing? You don’t have to do this.”

“It’s my only choice. No one wants me here. I may as well already be dead.” She stared at the hypnotising ocean ripples.

“Don’t you ever say that, not to me. I care. I need you, Cas.” He sat next to her, his thigh pressed against hers, warming her whole body.

“It’s not enough.”

“The hell, it isn’t. You don’t get it, do you? Cas, I love you. I’m in love with you.” His grass green eyes were glossy.

“No,” Castielle’s words caught in her throat, “You don’t mean that, you’re just saying it. I can’t do that, Dean. I can’t believe you, because then I’ll say something stupid. Like how I love you too. And then where would we be?”

“We’d be right here. Just Cas and Dean, it’d be as easy as breathing. The past few weeks have been hell for me, baby. I can’t not be with you. It’d kill me.” He clasped her hand tightly, as if she’d disappear if he let go.

“You can’t possibly want me. No one does, you’re kidding yourself. There are so many other girls who shine brighter; you deserve the sun, Dean.”

“No, no way do you get to do that, Cas. I don’t deserve anyone. But I want you. Please, you could come stay at the place my dad has in Kansas, it’s a lot better than the crumby old apartment me and Sammy were staying in.”

“I liked that place, it had character.” She smiled light-heartedly.

“Well then you’ll like the new place even better. C’mon, let’s get out of this town. It’s a couple hours drive, plenty of time to talk. Or we could listen to a bit of AC/DC, just like old times.” He stood.

“Just like old times.” Castielle agreed.

She moved to stand up, her legs untangling themselves, when her foot caught on a break in the land. She fell. Dean’s screams masked the sickening crack of her head against the rocks.

She could not ignore her date with death.