Cas' body heaved as he struggled to hold off the encroaching darkness. After thousands of years he had at last found meaning, a truly steadfast and eternal treasure. But he had not expected to prove the extent of his love so soon, when there was so much left to say, to do, to give. His eyes fluttered slowly, and the alternation of blinding light and endless darkness played out the memories of his time with the Winchesters. With Dean. Dean.
The physical pain coursing from his skull was trivial compared to the despair brought on by the thought of leaving in uncertainty. Cas clenched his jaw in refusal, warding off death with his determination to see Dean's face, safe and alive, and to take that image with him. He wanted to cry out for his beloved, but feared the effort would cost him more precious seconds than he had left. Suddenly, he heard the sound of wreckage being overturned, frantic feet crushing a pathway through the concrete rubble, a sharp intake of breath forcing out a tear of soul-crushing confirmation.
Dean sprinted to Cas' side, falling to the floor in a contorted shape. He grasp Cas' limp hand and reached out to cup the back of his head and lift it from the unforgiving ground. Dean looked up and swallowed back tears as he felt the sticky warmth of blood on his palm.
"Cas, man you didn't have to do that," he choked out through blurry eyes.
The curve of Cas' lips twitched slightly upward, and his enraptured blue eyes gleamed with Dean's visage. The wounds were so deep, too deep. Dean could not deny that the spirit of his best friend was irreversibly dwindling away. He closed his eyes to draw strength from the places inside him only Cas could reach and pull to the surface.
"I love you," Dean pleaded, "More than I ever thought possible, man. No one can take that." He squeezed Cas' hand tight and bent to embrace him, resting his cheek on Cas' now gashed and blood-soaked face. In sharp contrast to heavy atmosphere, soft, soothing lips grazed Dean's ear and tickled his senses with a labored exhale.
"Always happy t-." Cas' breath fell short, cutting off his words.
He swallowed and Dean felt the familiar body relax completely.
Cas parted his lips again, and whispered in finality, "Always happy."
Dean let the store of tears flow out and cradled the fallen angel's lifeless form, rocking back and forth and howling as the warmth of his lover's cheek departed. He kissed Cas' stoic face desperately, as if his passion could bring resurrection, and then reluctantly and gently lay his head back down on the ground. With both hands sheltering Cas' face, Dean imparted one last kiss, slowly and carefully. He kissed Cas with every unsaid word, every glance aborted, every night praying to a starless sky, every night running his hand across the cold sheets of the bed. Dean let his hands tenderly run down Cas' body and rest back on his own knees. He looked down on his beautiful angel and felt the fragile patchwork of his heart begin to fissure.
The imprint of Cas' wings scorched the floor in ashened splendor, and around the guardian's crown, blood pooled out evenly, creating a crimson halo for the man who had finally found someone to believe in.