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Castiel doesn't tell Dean or Sam where he's going, just leaves in the middle of the night, driven on too much caffeine and a half-cracked plan. He does leave a note however, next to Dean's head, on Cas' own pillow, but the former angel hopes to be back in the bunker by the time the hunters are conscious.
The graveyard is a peaceful calm this late at night, the moon is hanging almost directly above, giving the scene a black and white wash. In Castiel's hand is a small, pretty bouquet of daisies stolen from one of the many suburban houses between the bunker and the graveyard.
The grave is simple enough to find, he'd seen it in Dean's dreams a few times before he fell, but being here in reality makes the emotions of it sharper, and Castiel can feel his heart racing to catch up with him.
Mary Winchester
Loving Mother and Wife
December 5 1954- November 2 1983
Castiel looks at the words an feels a kind of removed heartache. Laying the daisies down with infinite care, the man clears his throat and winces slightly at the sound in the silent air. When he speaks, his voice is soft, almost a whisper, and warmer than anyone, except Dean and perhaps Meg have ever heard it.
"I know we never knew each other, and I know that the angels never lived up to your expectations of us, and for that I am sorry; the real reason I came tonight was to thank you. Thank you, Mary Winchester, for your sons. They have changed the world, and myself in ways you could never have dreamed, but I know you would be proud of them. Thank you for Dean, without whom I would be a mess of a man, and thank you for Sam, who taught me the truest form of bravery, the truth of living for a cause. You always told the boys that angels were watching over them, and it was true, I was always there with my eye on the Winchester brothers, but now the angels are gone and it's there turn to watch over me and I know that everything good in them is because of you, they're watching over me Mary, so thank you."
Castiel's voice cracks slightly as he speaks, his voice flooded with the emotions he is still adjusting to, and he watches as the words on the headstone blur with tears. He talks for what seems like decades, telling the whole story of how these two drop-outs from Kansas saved him in every sense of the word, and never stopped to wonder if he deserved it. Then, when he reaches the end of his story, Castiel's voice falters, because he can hardly believe the truth himself. For a long time after that Castiel is quiet, standing in the still night air, staring at a grave in the middle of Kansas. He looks almost like an angel again, and when the wind catches his jacket, someone could almost say they looked like wings. Almost.
Just before the horizon starts to lighten, Castiel breaks his vigil and heads home. He pats the headstone once with a familiar loving quality and murmurs "See you soon Mary" and moments later he is gone. The graveyard is still again, and the only difference is the happy yellow daisies shifting slightly in the breeze.
Back in the bunker, Castiel climbs into bed just as the sun is beginning to creep across the foot of their bed. Dean stirs as Castiel climbs into the warm blankets, and smiles up at his lover.
"What's up Cas?" He mumbles, reaching for the former angel. Castiel smiles and kisses the hunter's brow.
"Nothing, go back to sleep." He replies, pulling Dean into his chest and breathing in the calming scent of his hair, the metal and leather and pine smell that always seems like home. "I'm watching over you."
And so Dean sleeps, his cheek pressed against Castiel's chest and for a while, things seem like they were. No, that's not quite right, thinks Cas, staring at the man snoring lightly in his arms, things seem so much better.