Hey, so this is my first story! It's just a little one shot I wrote, and it may have some darker themes to it.
I hope you enjoy
I don't own anything from Supernatural
A century ago Dean Winchester had died. A full 100 years had passed since that awful day, the day that the demons had ambushed him.
He had been in New York City when it happened, Castiel and Sam by his side. He had seen the demons come in, looked the angel dead in the eye and told Castiel to get Sam out of there and take care of him. Castiel had hesitated, but Dean would not take no for an answer. He said again, forcefully, his emerald eyes boring into the angel's blue ones.
Castiel had taken one last look at Dean before touching the forehead of the younger Winchester, whisking them both away to safety.
The angel didn't return while the demons tortured Dean. The angel didn't return why the demons slit Dean's throat and howled in delight. The angel only returned when the demons had all left, and Dean Winchester's broken body lay on the floor alone. The angel had tried to revive him, but to no avail.
That was the first time Castiel had ever cried.
Every single demon from that night had been hunted down and killed. Castiel had seen to all of their death's personally. They would all pay for what they had done. And they did.
From the day the last demon died, Castiel focused solely on Sam Winchester. He watched out for the young man, always by his side, making sure that he was safe. Sam dubbed Castiel his "guardian angel" and was eternally grateful for the divine protection.
Sam Winchester lived a long life, full of hunting, one night stands, and drinking. After Dean's death, he had thrown himself into the life, forgetting who he once was. He didn't need to worry about getting hurt, he knew that Castiel was always going to watch over him.
Castiel always did watch over him, and in the end he was the only one there with Sam when he took his last breath. He said a prayer over the Winchester's body, gave him a proper hunter's funeral and willed his soul to find it's way to heaven.
The angel knew it was more likely that the Winchester would end up in hell. Dean had; Castiel had searched heaven completely, not finding a trace of the elder Winchester. If the man who was supposed to be Michael's vessel ended up in a pit, it only made sense that the man who had said yes to Lucifer would be there too.
The angel hadn't gone back to heaven after Sam's death. He had stayed on Earth, hunting things that threatened the humans. Those damn Winchesters had given him compassion for the humans. They had changed him for the better.
Usually Castiel would be out hunting a ghost or a rouge vampire, but not today. Not on the day that marked the anniversary of Dean Winchester's death.
Just like every year previous, Castiel made his way to the spot in the forest where the body had been burned. He had marked it with a small, plain wooden cross, almost identical to the one that marked Sam's 'grave'.
The angel knelt down, hands in his windswept brown hair, eyes shut tightly. He could feel the tears attempting to escape his eyes, but he didn't allow them to go anywhere.
"I'm sorry Dean." He whispered, his voice gruff and filled with emotion. Castiel knew that a simple sorry wasn't enough for what had happened. He knew that he was the reason that Dean was dead. If he had stayed with him, then maybe, just maybe, Dean would have lived.
Castiel knew that Dean would have died eventually, but he had never expected it to happen so quickly. He lay a hand on the cross, his emotions strung out.
Dean had been his best friend. The man had changed the angel, teaching him what human kindness was. The hunter had held all the traits of a good man, and he had tried to teach the naive angel some of those things.
Castiel had looked up to Dean, looked up to the way he loved his family more than his own life. Dean had considered Castiel family, he had seen him as another brother.
Dean's love for his family had inspired Castiel to try and make right with some of his family members. But they were disappearing quickly.
Anna was gone.
Gabriel was gone.
Uriel was gone.
Zachariah was gone.
Michael was gone.
Balthazar was gone.
The only one he was able to find was Anachel, who had smiled at him, kissed his head, and disappeared. He hadn't seen the angel of grace since.
As the wetness from the ground soaked through the knees of his suit pants, Castiel could feel the darkness overtake him. His fingers curled along the worn wood of the cross, his eyebrows narrowed.
The little voice inside his head was hissing again, telling him to take his own blade and drive it through his heart. It laughed at him, yelled at him, told him that he was all alone.
As much as Castiel hated the voice, he knew it was true. He was alone, and he should have died a long time ago. He had died along time ago, more than once. And yet he had been revived over and over again.
Castiel knew that if he were to end his life, Dean would never have forgiven him. Even though the man was dead, the angel couldn't bear to even think of the hunter being mad at him. It just made his heart hurt more.
Alive and in pain or dead and guilty?
The angel stood suddenly, his blue eyes hazy and unfocused. It would be so easy to end it now, end all this pain he felt. But he couldn't do it. He would look after the Impala if the angel left this life?
Castiel scoffed at the thought. Of course it was something of Dean's that would make him want to keep breathing. He couldn't die, not yet. He had to live on and carry out the Winchester's legacy.
No matter how much it hurt.