Forgiveness is a thing anyone would beg for if their inner demons have tortured them enough. It makes life a struggle when it's ambiguous as to whether or not it will be received.
For Dean Winchester, he would kill for it.
He loved Castiel, his angelic and gentle lover, and to this day, he dwelled on the end of their relationship. He had never felt a pain so sharp, and an absence so powerful. Needless to say, Castiel was the center of his world. There was no one he would want by his side more than him, and no one could genuinely make him smile like he could.
Dean was going to get the forgiveness he needed.
He was driving in his 1967 Impala, headed down the street of a cozy neighborhood on a cloudy day. Kids were riding their bikes on the sidewalk, and their parents were on their driveways chatting with smiles upon their faces. Other kids were laughing and giggling as they chased each other in the cul-de-sac, without a care in the world. This is what Dean wished he could have.
He knew he would always be without it.
He pulled up to a two story, blue-roofed house with a white coat of paint everywhere else. After parking in the driveway, he moved out of his car and shut the door, marching to the front of the house like he had a mission. The look on his face was stern, and emotionless. His arms barely swayed as his legs guided him to the door. Once he arrived, he borderline pounded on the door, making it shake more than it should.
When it opened, there was a tall male in the entryway, with brown hair hair down to his neck. He was wearing a plaid, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of blue jeans, He was perplexed by Dean's presence, which he showed by his creased eyebrows, and his neutral expression.
"Dean," he said. "Hey."
"Hey Sammy," said Dean. "Can I come in for a sec?"
Sam moved out of the way, and held the door wide open for Dean to enter. Dean took a step up through the door and after Sam shut the door, he turned to him.
"Where's Jess?" he asked.
"She had to run some errands."
Dean nodded. Sam offered him something to drink, and they made their way across the living room/dining room area to Sam's kitchen, where he grabbed two bottles of beer out of the fridge, and slid one over to Dean. After they each took a sip, Sam's perplexed expression, similar to what he showed earlier, was back on his face.
"I don't mean to sound rude," he asked. "But what's with the sudden visit? You usually call."
Dean set down his beer. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, looking away from Sam. Sam leaned on the counter where he was standing, trying to make eye contact with him by moving down to Dean's eye level. Dean eventually brought his eyes up to Sam's, exhaling as he started to speak.
"I'm gonna try to get some closure with Cas."
Sam's facial expression didn't change. He stood up straight, leaning his weight on the kitchen counter with his hands, looking down at the floor. Now, he looked scared. Dean was now trying to have eye contact with Sam, who wasn't moving at all. Dean resorted to waving his hand in front of Sam's eyes, which still proved to be of no use.
Dean was scared of what Sam had to say.
"Dean," said Sam, softly. "Why are you doing this to yourself?"
"I'm in pain, Sam," said Dean. "I haven't gone a day without thinking about him. I just want things to be okay again."
"This isn't how to do it," said Sam, looking right into Dean's eyes. "You've tried so hard to get him to forgive you, but it's too late for that now. Nothing's gonna change, and you know that. Even though it didn't seem like it, I'm hurting for you. I'm telling you not just as your brother, but as a logical human being: The only way to get through what happened is to just move on."
"Sam, I can't. I need to do this."
Sam chuckled half-heartedly, folding his arms and shaking his head. Dean looked dejected, with his eyebrows drooping into a puppy-eyed formation. This meant a lot to Dean, and the fact that his brother didn't approve of his choice was hard for him.
"Sam, I know you don't approve, and that Cas isn't gonna forgive me, but—"
"I'm done with this conversation. There's no point in having it again. Do what you want. You'll get your own answers."
Dean's visit was cut short by Sam's change in emotion, and started to head out the door. But after he made it down the front-patio a bit, he turned to Sam, looking him dead in the eye.
"Cas mentioned something about going to some town called Silent Hill," he began. "Do you think I'll find him there?"
Sam's chest puffed up and then deflated back to normal. He was looking at Dean with worried eyes, clutching the front door with a fidgety hand. Dean's eyes flickered to Sam's nervous hand, and then back to the anxious look on his face.
"You know the stories about that town, Dean," said Sam. "You aren't going to gain anything from going there. You'll just lose it."
"But what if he's there?"
Sam sighed and shook his head. He slowly shut the door, leaving Dean on the porch, staring at the entryway. Dean looked away from the front of the house, and made his way back to his car. Once he got in the driver's seat, he let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes.
"Or maybe he's at his apartment," said Dean. "Maybe he hasn't really left for Silent Hill yet."
He revved up his Impala, pulled out of Sam's driveway, and headed down the street and out of the neighborhood.
Sam didn't know; This is something Dean had to do.
The apartment complex he was heading to was but a short distance from the cozy neighborhood he just left. It was just a quick hop onto the freeway and about a mile after exiting, and he arrived at the complex. It was a nicer, brightly colored complex that could make someone feel at home just by looking at it. Dean even caught himself smiling a bit, remembering the good times he had in this apartment.
He wished he could have those again.
He found a parking spot close to the section where Cas lived, and pulled into it. After getting out of his car, he headed up the first flight of stairs he saw, and went to the right. He knocked lightly on the door a few times, waiting for an answer.
He heard some footsteps coming up the stairs from behind him, and when he turned to find the source, he saw a blond lady in her mid-forties carrying a basket of laundry. She looked up at Dean with a surprised expression, looking between him and the door he was knocking on. Dean smiled at her, hoping to ease the worry she was showing.
"Do you know the guy that lives here?" he asked.
"Y-Yes," she said, timidly. "He hasn't been back here in quite some time. I certainly hope he's not d—"
"Oh come on, miss," said Dean. "That's jumpin' the gun, a bit. Has he said anything to you about going to a town called Silent Hill?"
Her surprised expression turned into a face filled with terror. She started shaking her head vigorously, and quickly made her way to her apartment across the way.
"Wait!" said Dean.
"Don't talk about that town," she said, stopping in front of her door to look at Dean. "You can't. You should know what they say about it. Going there is dying a slow and torturous death. No. Castiel wouldn't—"
She snapped back around to her door, fumbled around with her keys and quickly unlocked it before slipping into her room and shutting the door. Dean hung his head in silence as he heard her lock the door, and made his way back to his car. He took his phone out from his pocket and started typing a message to Sam on it.
"Hey, Sam," it began. "I guess Cas hasn't been to his apartment in a while. Maybe he's really gone to Silent Hill. Can I swing by later to ask you something?"
After sending the message, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and made the journey back home.
He pulled into the parking lot of a decent looking apartment complex, and walked out of his car and up the stairs to his room. Once he unlocked the door and opened it, he revealed his home. The carpet was a pale brown, and his kitchen was big enough to fit two people, comfortably. Down the hall straight ahead of him was his bedroom, and to the right of that was his bathroom. The living room to the immediate right consisted of a black, leather couch, a large, flat screen TV, and a coffee table. To the left was his small, makeshift dining room, with a large wooden table and chairs all around it.
It wasn't perfect, but it was home.
He set his keys down on the counter and pulled his phone out of his pocket, and clicked the button on the side. It mentioned nothing about a new message, so he sighed and left it on the counter as well.
He spent a lot of his time in his apartment that evening relaxing and checking his phone every ten minutes to see if Sam replied. His expression grew more worried each time his phone had no response from Sam. As the evening went on, the increments in which he checked his phone became smaller and smaller. Soon enough, he was checking his phone every two minutes. Eventually, the anxiety was too much for him, and he jumped up off the couch, grabbed his keys, and headed out of the door.
On his way to Sam's house, he mulled over everything that could have happened to him. He wanted to assume that Sam was fast asleep in front of the TV. He wanted to assume that he went out with Jessica after she came back from running errands. He wanted to assume that it was anything but the worst-case scenario. But he knew that Sam was quick with his responses, especially when Dean asked him questions about coming over. However, for what reason would it be the worst-case scenario?
He could be dead, but Dean didn't know why this would happen.
He made it to the cozy neighborhood, which seemed to look more ominous as the evening went on. The evening sun against the heavy clouds created a reddish-orange glow that set fire to Dean's anxiety. There was no wind, leaving all the trees alone, and making them completely stationary where they stood. Everything in the neighborhood seemed to be seen through a grey filter, leaving Dean to feel more worried about his choice to come here.
He pulled into the driveway and put his car in park. Just shortly after, though, he noticed the garage door open, and he looked behind him to see who opened it. A blue corvette pulled into the driveway, and the blond driver inside looked at Dean with concern as she pulled her car into the garage. Dean got out of his car and slowly walked into the garage. She came out of her car as well, and looked at Dean, her expression still filled with concern.
"Hey," she said. "Is everything okay?"
"Hey Jess," said Dean. "I just had to ask Sam something. Is he with you?"
"No, I just got back from my errands. You didn't just want to call him?"
"I sent him a message earlier, and he didn't send one back. I was getting worried."
Jess laughed a bit, and closed her car door. She walked around to the back of her vehicle, and smiled at Dean a bit.
"Come in," she said. "He might just be sleeping. Work's been pretty stressful for him."
Dean followed her into the house through the door in the garage, and after she set her car keys and her purse down on the counter, she moved into the living room.
"Sam?" she said, as she made her way over.
Dean walked slowly behind her, looking out to the living room to see that Sam wasn't there. Jess turned around after she checked, and started walking up the stairs.
"Lemme check and see if he's sleeping upstairs," she said, quietly. "Sometimes he sleeps in our game room."
As she made it to the top of the stairs, Dean waited at the bottom. She called Sam's name again as she made a right into an open room by the stairs. A few moments later, she left and went the other way down the hall. Dean started to look impatient, but he stayed down at the bottom of the stairs, not wanting to seem like he was hovering. He was the only one worried about this, anyway.
Dean heard Jess scream from the room she went in; this made him fly up the stairs in no time at all.
He sprinted down the hall and went into the master bedroom, looking frantically around to try and find her. He quickly made his way to the bathroom, where he saw Jess; she had tears streaming down her face, as she held her hands over her mouth. Dean looked in the same direction as her, and his eyes filled with terror.
He saw Sam's corpse, bloody and the words, "he's waiting" were carved into his chest.