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Dean’s legs are soaked in mud, damp and uncomfortable, and there’s a rock digging into the skin somewhere below his knee.
It doesn’t matter though.
Nothing matters, not anymore.
Not the creature in the house, whatever the fuck it is. Not the alternate dimension he’ll have to face to rescue his mother from Lucifer.
Why? Dean prays, staring up at the sky like he’ll find the answer up there. Why did you let this happen? He doesn’t get a response, not that he expected to.
I don't like my mind right now
Stacking up problems that are so unnecessary
Wish that I could slow things down
I wanna let go but there's comfort in the panic
Dean looks down at the body in front of him, falling back on his heels when his muscles no longer have the strength to hold him up. The empty shell that used to hold his best friend is lying lifeless and still in the dirt. The angel who’d rescued him, who’d rebelled against heaven, who’d fallen for him. The angel who was more human than so many people Dean had met in his lifetime. The angel that only wanted to fix the world, to make it a better place. The world didn’t deserve a heart like Cas’. He sees Cas sprawled on the ground, hand laying on his stomach, legs askew, eyes closed. The physical evidence is right there in front of him, but his brain is a few steps behind his eyes, because the pain hasn’t set in yet.
His hands are shaking where they hang limply at his sides, and he clenches his fists to try and stop the tremors. The tightening of his muscles sends the vibration up his arms and into his chest. His lungs can’t fill properly, his heart can’t beat under the pressure that’s starting to set in.
And I drive myself crazy
Thinking everything's about me
Yeah I drive myself crazy
'Cause I can't escape the gravity
He reaches out his hand, picking up the limp one in front of him and wiping off the mud. It’s always been a little bit colder than other people’s, but never this cold. Dean can remember its strength, the feel of it clasped around his fingers when they’d helped each other up, the little tingle that would flow from those fingers when he’d heal Dean’s wounds. The arm it’s attached to is heavy as Dean lifts it, and he’s forced to contemplate again the meaning of the phrase dead weight .
I'm holding on
Why is everything so heavy?
Holding on
To so much more than I can carry
I keep dragging around what's bringing me down
If I just let go, I'd be set free
Holding on
Why is everything so heavy?
He drapes Cas’ arm across his too still chest, his fingers lingering on the blue striped tie as he straightens it out of habit. Why did you go in there? Dean asks him silently. Why come after us? You were here, you were safe. If Dean had just been a bit faster about reaching out to grab Cas’ arm when he’d walked through the rift, before he’d gotten past him to Lucifer, then maybe…
His breath leaves him in a rattle, his whole body is shaking now, and he leans forward, trying to squeeze the air back into his lungs.
He was so tired of losing the people he cared about. Tired of trying to pick himself up and put himself back together every time he wasn’t able to save someone he loved. Because every time he tried to, it got harder and harder to patch the holes in his heart, harder to cover up the ugly scars the pain leaves behind.
He glances at the dirt under his left hand, his eyes tracing the line of Cas’ broken, burnt out wings where they stretch out on either side of his body.
You say that I'm paranoid
But I'm pretty sure the world is out to get me
It's not like I make the choice
To let my mind stay so fucking messy
This isn’t fair. He balls his hand into a fist and punches the ground hard. Why take him from me now, now when I just got him back... Cas had always come back, every time he left him, every time Dean thought he’d died, every time he’d feared the worst. Even when Dean was sure he’d never see him again, Cas would find a way to surprise him.
Not this time.
He’s not human, and Dean doesn’t have an angel up his sleeve to save him. There’s no mysterious fluke that will make him reappear in a few months. Just an empty vessel, and charred earth that marked all that was left of his wings, all that was left of Cas.
I know I'm not the center of the universe
But you keep spinning round me just the same
I know I'm not the center of the universe
But you keep spinning round me just the same
Dean chokes, swallowing against the thickness in his throat. His vision is blurring, and he tries to blink it away, attempting to focus on Cas’ face. He looks so peaceful, relaxed. Dean raises his right hand slowly, reaching up to grip the edge of the trench coat.
Please, you can’t...don’t leave me again... he pleads silently. He’s gasping for breath now, his stomach twisting around on itself. Tears trace a path down his cheeks and he doesn’t even bother trying to wipe them away. They slip from his skin and down onto the ground below him.
Cas…
Cas, I need you, please…
A sob rips from his throat, and he tilts his head to the sky, the tears shifting in their tracks to fall down his jawline. And still he grips the coat, unable to let go. There was so much he never said, so much he should have, reassurances that might have kept Cas from storming in after Lucifer.
He shuts his eyes against the image of the light spewing from him as the angel blade slipped through his chest. He doesn’t want that to be how he remembers Cas.
I'm holding on
Why is everything so heavy?
Holding on
To so much more than I can carry
He wants to remember the anxious look on his face when Dean dragged him to the ‘den of iniquity’. He wants to remember the furrow of Cas’ brow when he would question Dean’s pop culture references. Dean wants to remember the almost smile that would grace Cas’ face when he’d talk about humanity. The way that Cas could always tell when something was wrong, even when Dean himself didn’t know it. The way that Cas tried so hard to protect him and Sam, tried so hard to do good. Cas was different that way.
He wants to remember the look in his eyes when he’d called Dean his family, stabbed by the angel killing spear and near death.
When he’d said ‘I love you’.
In spite of all the mistakes he’d made, all the things he’d done that had gone so horribly wrong, it was always out of a need to do good, to try and protect people. To protect Dean. His own, personal, guardian angel.
9 years, he’d been in Dean’s life. Longer than anyone but Sam and Bobby. Cas had stumbled and fallen, he’d broken Dean’s trust time and again, but always he would return. And Dean would always forgive him. No matter how bad it got, no matter what he’d done, Dean forgave him.
I loved you, too, Cas. Sorry I never said it.
The tears have stopped, and still he kneels in the mud. There’s noise from the house behind him but he can’t bring himself to stand.
I keep dragging around what's bringing me down
If I just let go, I'd be set free
Holding on
Why is everything so heavy?
Dean wants to push this away. He wants to forget how this feels, just rip it out of his chest and toss it aside. Even if it means forgetting all the good things. He’d rather forget it all and just not feel anything.
But he can’t forget, just like he can’t bring himself to leave Cas’ side now. The memories are there; fighting together, sitting in the bunker talking, watching an angel become more and more human. It might have been short, but it was beautiful in its own way, something precious and unique to Cas.
He releases his grip on the trench coat, sliding his fingers into the chest pocket and pulling out Cas’ few earthly belongings, tucking them into his own pocket for safekeeping. A fake FBI badge, a wallet, and a mix tape.
Your time with Cas was a gift, a voice in his mind says quietly. You keep those.