Dean sits there, leaning against the Impala, holding his little brother, and watching the entire population of Heaven fall towards the earth.,
We failed, he thinks. I failed.
He'd tried to do the right things; he thought he did the right thing. He had saved Sam, after all.
Barely, he thinks as Sam gasps for another breath. Just barely. Yeah, he'd saved his little brother, but he's lost so much more.
Whatever hope he'd had of things ever returning to normal deserted him as soon as Sam had started gasping for air, and even more so when he looked up to the sky to see angels hurdling to the earth, their wings burning off as the fell.
He doesn't know if Kevin's okay, he doesn't even know if Crowley's still trapped or not. Hell, he doesn't even know where Cas is, if he's still Castiel, Angel of the Lord, or if he's even still alive. What if he'd fallen too? What if one of the angels falling towards the ground was him?
Bullshit, he tells himself. This is Cas we're talking about.
But he's not sure of that anymore.
He's not sure of anything anymore.