With physical pain, at least, after a certain point, the pain becomes so great, there is only a feeling of total body numbness. The body releases a chemical to make you giddy, and you go into shock, and for a while, everything is floaty and okay. It is not the same with emotional pain, he's quick to find out. The spitting, hissing, biting words just cut again and again, slicing through an intangible part of him. He's not sure if it's his mind or his heart or his soul, maybe all three, but wherever the injuries are being inflicted, they hurt so much.
He doesn't intend to come back. He doesn't intend to ever come back. He doesn't intend to ever see Dean again, for the rest of his human life. As soon as he's granted permission, he turns to leave, skirting around the corner and taking the steps at almost a jog, fleeing, haste, trying to get away. No. He's never coming back here. Never again.
His feet take him down the sidewalk, down the street, down the block, before he realizes he doesn't actually have anywhere to go. His legs go soft beneath him, and he sinks down, and numbly realizes he's sitting on a bench.
He... he hadn't expected... he wasn't prepared for... he didn't know being a human gave you the capacity to feel... to feel this.
Something is leaking from his eyes. Something is streaking down his face. He's seen Dean cry, but he never considered the possibility that he could cry. His eyes are wide with the realization, and he doesn't... exactly know what to do about it. Lips part in surprise, and just... stay that way, and he stares, lost, out into the empty street.
It starts to rain.
It doesn't matter.
What now? Why would his father send him back, if-- oh. This, he realizes, is his punishment. Maybe he secretly is in hell? Does it matter? This is Earth. If he was in hell, it would still be this. This exact same scene, so he's not entirely sure where he is at the moment. Just... that it hurts.
And so he sits, with no where to go, no direction, no purpose, no point. Suffering, alone, and entirely deserving.
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He doesn't intend to come back. He doesn't intend to ever come back. He doesn't intend to ever see Dean again, for the rest of his human life. As soon as he's granted permission, he turns to leave, skirting around the corner and taking the steps at almost a jog, fleeing, haste, trying to get away. No. He's never coming back here. Never again.
His feet take him down the sidewalk, down the street, down the block, before he realizes he doesn't actually have anywhere to go. His legs go soft beneath him, and he sinks down, and numbly realizes he's sitting on a bench.
He... he hadn't expected... he wasn't prepared for... he didn't know being a human gave you the capacity to feel... to feel this.
Something is leaking from his eyes. Something is streaking down his face. He's seen Dean cry, but he never considered the possibility that he could cry. His eyes are wide with the realization, and he doesn't... exactly know what to do about it. Lips part in surprise, and just... stay that way, and he stares, lost, out into the empty street.
It starts to rain.
It doesn't matter.
What now? Why would his father send him back, if-- oh. This, he realizes, is his punishment. Maybe he secretly is in hell? Does it matter? This is Earth. If he was in hell, it would still be this. This exact same scene, so he's not entirely sure where he is at the moment. Just... that it hurts.
And so he sits, with no where to go, no direction, no purpose, no point. Suffering, alone, and entirely deserving.
Undoubtedly, for the rest of his life.