don't know why I didn't jack a car on the way back to Sammy. I could've, I'd cleared up my end of the bargain with Sammy. I was a free man, nothing tying me down or holding me back. But that was bullshit and I knew it. So I walked. I walked and walked and walked. Part of me was scared of seeing Sammy. What if he didn't come when I called? No, he was my brother. He'd always done better than that. Always tried to save his family. That's what we did, the Winchester hallmark. (Or so I thought.)
I think I walked because I was used to it. Purgatory isn't exactly a Ford dealership. Purgatory had also left me on overdrive. Every minuscule noise or shadow had me reaching for a knife. It wasn't a far reach, my hand was almost always on top of it anyway. I only ever slept because I had to or else I'd fall dead on the spot. But I could walk for a long a long time before exhaustion took over. So I did. I might have eaten. I can't remember.
Most the the time I just thought. I was trying to get my shit together. It was a stupid-ass idea, I've got crap thirty years deep, but I tried anyway. I had to.
I had to figure out what had happened there. I remembered the blue light. I was halfway in, halfway out. I felt it closing around me, getting smaller by the second. But Cas was still out there.
I grabbed his hand, I know I did. I heard him say my name, I know I did. I told him to come on. I know I did.
Then, he was gone.
I didn't understand why he let go. I didn't understand why he didn't just try. We had been so close. But he let go. Or had it been me?
No, I had held on. It had been him.
Hadn't it?
Of course it had. I tried. I know I did.
Those few nights I did sleep I saw a ghost behind my eyelids. It was me, with jet black eyes, a blood-spattered face, and a devilish smile. He was a familiar visitor. Those nights he would stare at me and smile, speaking in a malicious voice. "I could have sworn I felt our fingers slip…"
Some nights I didn't sleep to avoid dreaming, but I still needed rest. I'd set with my knife in hand and watch the shadows. And I would pray.
"Cas. Where the hell are you, man? I need you. You gotta tell me why you let go. Why didn't you come with me? You gotta tell me it wasn't me. Please, Cas. You can hear me, can't you? You could hear me when we were both back there, so I know your angel reception or whatever is working.
"Cas?"
I waited for a minute.
"Answer me, dammit! I didn't leave you! I didn't!"
I felt stupid and stopped my yelling. I drew my jacket around me and clutched my knife a little tigther. I remember catching myself thinking the same thing over and over again.
I didn't leave you.
I didn't leave you.
I didn't leave you.
I didn't leave you.
I didn't leave you.
Right?