Chapter Text
His head was swirling and his vision blurring. There had to be at least three pints of blood pouring out of him. It was everywhere, staining his skin, the ground, his clothes... He didn't have much time left, he thought, as more blood sputtered out of his mouth. Tears, blood, and sweat were smeared on his hands and face. He tried in vain to sit up, but it only squeezed more blood out so he cried out in pain and laid back down, waiting. Suddenly he was full of regret and guilt for leaving his family behind to deal with his mess. It's not like he was trying to get stabbed by a reaper, but that's just how it happened. And now he was dying.
As he lay waiting for death, he realized there was someone he had to say goodbye to before he went. He fumbled for his phone with cold and trembling hands, struggling to muster the energy but knowing he had to do this. Phone in hand, finger over his speed dial button, he hesitated. The last thing he wanted to do was scare his best friend. So he took a deep breath, and pressed call.
"Cas? Hey man, you alright?"
"Hello, Dean. Just... checking in." He coughed up blood through those last few words.
"Woah, you good? That sounded healthy," Dean laughed.
Castiel smiled with fondness, but his smile was pulled tight by the cuts and bruises on his face. "I'm good. How're you?" He was putting all his energy into trying to keep his voice steady.
"Not bad. Easy day, really. When're you planning on coming back?" Dean restrained himself from adding, It's pretty empty here without you.
Castiel paused, but realizing it would sound suspicious if he waited too long, he answered: "Soon."
"Awesome. See you then, sunshine." Dean bantered, smiling.
"Dean, wait-" Castiel's voice was strained; he hadn't said everything he wanted to. How could he? He was running out of time.
"What's up?" Dean asked curiously, blissfully ignorant to the unbearable pain and regret and hours spent analyzing this conversation that would happen in four days when they found him.
"I- I love you." Castiel's voice cracked. The reaper stood before him, a look of content on her face as she waited to collect his soul. It wouldn't be long now.
"Cas? What's going on? Where are you?" Dean's voice became more urgent, but he remained unsuspecting to the mutilated body they'd find, and how he recognized him before Sam and him could cross the police tape, and how he'd leaned onto the nearest tree and threw up his breakfast within seconds.
"Dean, it's okay. I just wanted to remind you. I'm okay." Castiel's voice was beginning to shake. His head was fogging.
"Damnit, Cas," Dean sighed. "We can talk about it when you get back, okay?" Every time Dean looked back, he wished he would've had the courage to just say it. To tell Cas that he needed him. To tell him that he'd come find him and bring him home and everything would be okay. But he didn't. He told him that they could talk about it when he got back. And Dean regretted it every damn day.
"Okay," He was having to force the words out now. He was losing his vision, and all he felt was pain. "Goodbye, Dean." He managed. Then there were burns on the pavement around his body in the shape of wings, and the reaper was gone. It was quiet. All that was left was the body and a phone with Dean Winchester's voice ringing through it.
"Bye, Cas." But he never heard him.