Silent tears pour down Dean's face, creating little iridescent pools on the tile beneath him. His body quivers with exhaustion and his head aches from the endless screams that have ripped through him. Though he is entirely spent in every way imaginable he lifts his head and manages to choke out a small desperate prayer.
"Cas, I don't know if you can hear me, but whatever you do. Do not come looking for me. Do you hear me?! I am not worth it. Everyone I love… ends up dead…or worse. I know now that is my curse. So please man… please take care of yourself. And please…stay far away from me. One last thing...Cas…I…I….really loved you man."
The last words of his prayer are no more than a whisper, like the fluttering of a butterflies wings, but spoken with such emotion as to melt the coldest heart.
He raises himself from the floor his eyes dark with determination. He walks silently to his room. After he casts a melancholy gaze around what had been his first real home, and solemnly kisses the picture of his mother one last time, he grabs his faithful colt and a bottle of whiskey and sinks to the floor.
He knows it is the cowards way out, but he can't make himself care. He is done. As he raises the barrel to his temple and closes his weary eyes, he hears the subtle but unmistakable flutter of wings. Followed by a voice he knows as well as the beat of his own heart.
"Dean…"
He feels his gun pulled from his hand and is suddenly enveloped in a crushing hug. His heart simultaneously breaking and rejoicing he clings to his angel and weeps unashamedly and when he finds his voice he breathes out incredulously
"You came…?"
Cas still holding on firmly to his hunter, responds with the deepest sincerity and love.
"Of course…you called"
