Summary: Dean had always been very good at denying his heart what it wanted most.
Author’s Blab: So this is the very first, very short introduction to the Cas Chronicles. I hope you like this verse. It’s sassy and fun. All the love goes to my darling and beloved beta Sally. Give her love here. Shout out to you if you catch my homage to John Green.
~
Dean Winchester was not one for big, emotional crises. They were annoying, tedious, and frankly he just didn’t have the patience for them. Or the time (in between saving the world and trying to keep his self-sacrificing brother alive and such).
So no, emotional falderals were so not Dean Winchester’s cup of whiskey laced tea. He felt what he felt when he felt it and he didn’t panic about it because he was in control of himself, and anything he didn’t want to feel, he didn’t.
Much.
Okay, so maybe every once in a while some sort of … feelings… would sneak up on him and hit him square in the back of the head, and Dean, being Dean, wouldn’t actually know what to do with them, other than to ignore them.
That was the strange thing about emotions. Some times, they demanded to be felt.
Dean Winchester wasn’t one for emotional crises, and he certainly wasn’t one for falling in love.  That just didn’t sit well just didn’t sit well with him.
He’d tried the whole romance thing in the past. With Cassie and then with Lisa, and both of those situations went to Hell in a hand basket pretty damn quickly.
Love wasn’t something Dean Winchester did.
At least, that was what he had come to believe.
He’d done a real good job of believing it too. It wasn’t hard to ignore the gaping hole in his chest, and when it would not be ignored, he’d become a pro at filling it with booze and nameless women.
Dean had a knack for artificially filling the space in his heart. He always had been, since the moment the fire that took his mother, his childhood, burned it into him.
Dean was good at either ignoring or subduing the feelings that grew and festered within him, wailing and screaming to be let out.
Dean was good at hiding his true soul from the light, his true wants from the open. He always had been.
 He always had been.
He always had been, until he happened upon the one thing, the one being, so real and so powerful that they demanded, with all the power of the universe to see and be seen.
 Dean had always been good at repressing his soul, keeping his heart from what it wanted. What it needed.
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