Hello Dean, Goodbye Dean

Angels come if you pray them to
and when they arrive they look at you
smile at you
and go away,
leaving you the memory of a dream which lasted one night
but it's worth a lifetime.
Live it thoroughly
'cause it won't come back anymore

(Gli angeli vengono se tu li preghi
e quando arrivano ti guardano,
ti sorridono
e se ne vanno
per lasciarti il ricordo di un sogno lungo una notte,
ma che vale una vita.
Vivilo in fondo
perchè lui non torna più)

He appeared suddenly.
"Hello, Dean"
Dean looked up. There, not far away from the bench where he was sitting, was a man in a dark suit and a long raggedy beige trenchcoat. He quickly stood up, trying to focus the man – the angel.

I noticed you: you were looking at me
and I still shiver inside, now you know it too
you know I'll have to say goodbye to you soon
angel of mine

(Io ti ho notato: guardavi me
e tremo dentro, ora lo sai anche te
sai che tra poco dovrò dirti addio
angelo mio)

"Castiel?" he asked, unsure – or maybe sure he was gone mad. He made a step and then another. He moved forward, raising a hand. "Castiel, it's really you?"
He hugged him tight, fighting the tear threatening to fall. "I thought you were dead!" he croaked, his voice betraying his emotions.
Castiel didn't answer, simply holding his friend back, a little embarrassed and surprised.
"I'm here" he whispered while Dean let him go.
"Where were you? What were you doing? How did you survive? You could have left me a message, a sign, something " he began to complain.
"I'm not here to talk about this, Dean" said Castiel raising his hands in surrender. "Everything in due time"
"So why are you here? Do you need help? I won't help you to clean up after your messes, I haven't forgotten what you –"
"Dean "
The hunter fell silent, focusing on Castiel's sad eyes. The angel brushed lightly his arm before heading towards the bench behind him; then he gestured him the place next to his.
Dean, like an obedient son, followed him.
"I'm here because you called me. Because you need me" he said without any hint of awkwardness or doubt, enunciating slowly each word, like he was trying to explain something very important to a child.
"I didn't call you. I thought you were dead, how could I…"
"You know you did it" insisted Castiel. "Every night"
Dean couldn't answer back. He did pray him, sure, but he wasn't expecting a response.
Or maybe he was?
Deep inside him he knew he would came back.
He nodded.
It was weird to be there again, sitting on a bench, like when it all begun.
It seemed like a life time ago.
Dean felt much older, more tired; his will to fight was slowly vanishing, leaving a feeling of emptiness that day after day, trial after trial, disillusion after disillusion, was growing bigger.
He wondered if there was enough space for something else - rage, hate, anything - or if the void had already taken upon his soul.
He hoped that it would absorb also the pain.
"You want to give up, Dean?" asked Castiel, sewering the (il)logical thread of his thoughts - or maybe catching one end.
The young man waited a few seconds before gathering the strength to admit the truth. He narrowed his eyes and turned to face the angel.
"Yes, sometimes I wish I could"
He didn't get an answer. Castiel keep staring at him, nodding slightly.
Was he agreeing with him?
Was he disappointed?
Dean couldn't say. He stopped wondering and broke eye contact.

You said that if you were here
it's not coz you're mine
but because it's like that
that you will fulfill the will of your God
angel of mine

(Hai detto tu che se sei qui
non è perché sei mio
ma perché è così
che compirai il volere del tuo Dio...
angelo mio.)

"Cas"
"Dean?"
He could feel the stare of the angel - like always.
"Take me with you, wherever you're going" he asked gazing at the sky.
It was easy to admit that he couldn't do it, but it was so damn hard to ask someone's help, to grip his hand and drag him away, away from the sufferance, the pain and the loss. Away from the emptiness.
"I can't" replied Castiel.
A hoarse laugh dense of sarcasm erupted from Dean's lips. "Your God forbid it?"
If Castiel took offense from his remark, he didn't let it show.
And even if he did, Dean kept stubbornly avoiding to look at him.
"The truth is I don't want to" admitted Castiel a few minutes later.
Only then Dean turned to face him, casting him a look full of surprise and lightly hurt.
"Don't misunderstand me" said the angel joining his hands on his knees and furrowing, if possible, even more his eyebrows.
It was in that moment that Dean saw the dark circles under his eyes. He sighed.
"Don't worry, you've been very clear" he spitted resigned, leaning his back against the bench and resuming to look at the clear sky.
"I don't…" began Castiel. He shook his head and tried again. "What I meant…"
He spread his arms and half-closed his lips, stopping again to weight his words. He noticed that Dean wasn't listening.
He stood up and placed himself before him, trying to catch the look of the hunter.
He leaned toward him, putting his hands on Dean's legs. The light touch was enough to make them both jolt, and finally Dean looked him in the eyes.
"What I'm trying to say" continued Castiel, with his voice full of unfixed emotions "is that I could never want something that you don't".
Another tense silence fell between them.
"Castiel, stop with your damn cheap psychology and be clear" hissed Dean, moving ahead and reducing the distance that the angel had kept between their faces.
Pushing back on his arms, Castiel stood up, away from him; he turned away from Dean, bringing both hands to his temples.
"You're too stubborn to try to see it" he muttered to the wind.
"Then explain better!" growled Dean, standing up himself.
"I'm tired, do you understand? I'm not saying I'm the only one who's been fighting, I'm not saying I earned the rest that any hunter has never reached, I'm only saying that I, I, I am tired" he admitted, starring intensely at Castiel's mussed hair.
"I'm not asking for pity, help or moral support. I'm not asking to erase what I've done and who I am. I just wished…" his voice broke down and he had to clear his throat before speaking again. "I just wished that all of this ended" he muttered. "Magically, just like this" he specified, snapping his fingers and then dispersing some invisible dust in the air.
"I'd like to go to sleep one night and simply not waking up" he whispered lowering his head.

I won't oppose your flight,
but call me and
I'll follow you
you'll fly soon and I'll die
you won't say goodbye and will run away
I'll try not to forget you ever...
angel of mine

(Al tuo volo io non opporrò
ma chiamami
ti seguirò.
Tu presto volerai e ne morirò,
non saluterai
e poi fuggirai.
Cercherò di non scordarti mai
angelo mio)

"You know, Dean" began to say Castiel, still not facing the boy. "Every superhero has his kryptonite. Yours… is yourself"
"It's not a smart move to bring up again the kryptonite, you know?" stated Dean with bitter irony.
"Listen to what I'm saying, Dean" insisted the angel turning to look at him.
Those eyes could dig into the soul, damn it.
"I'm listening" argued Dean.
"Not enough"
The wind blew; a sound like the rumble of an engine permeated the area, but there was nothing around them.
Dean thought that soon it would start to rain.
"You are convinced that Sam is your weakness. Your family, the people you want to protect" continued Castiel, like their time was running out. There was urgency in his voice, in some high pitched notes he let out unawarely.
"But it's not like that: what you want to protect is your strength. Deep inside you have always known. You need a reason to go on, someone to fight for. And I'm not talking about witches, demons and all the others. If you hadn't been an hunter, you would have found another way to help people"
"I still don't understand you, Cas"
"What I'm trying to say…" he tried to continue, looking at the palm of his hands like they were the most interesting thing of Creation. "You underestimate the value of your life, Dean. You are so busy worrying about the others that you don't take care of yourself. You can't save anyone if you are dead, Dean"
"What the hell are you talking about?" tried to argue the hunter.
"If you don't want to be saved then you won't be" finished Castiel with a sigh.
Dean tried to put together the pieces; different conversations he had with different people, and the result was always the same: you are not strong enough, just give up.
If you can't keep on smiling (but smiling for what?), just give up.
If you can't accept the idea that you can't save everyone, just give up.
Trying to do some good was not enough; he had to be happy about it.
"If you can't save yourself…" began Castiel.
"… just give up, I know" finished Dean.
"No. I was going to say that then the others will have to save you"
The situation appeared to Dean from another point of view: Sam's.
Despite the odds, his brother had kept fighting, and only because of that Dean had managed to save him.
If Sammy had given up, how would it have ended?
They'd be both dead, whispered a voice inside his head.
And if it was me who gave up? he asked himself again.
This time he didn't need neither Castiel or his conscience to have an answer.

I got no answers to what you want from me
I got no pretensions if you're not like me
let me believe you'll come back...
angel of mine

(Non ho risposte a cosa vuoi da me,
non ho pretese se non sei come me.
Lasciami credere che tornerai
angelo mio)

"You have a weird way to tell me not to get killed" observed Dean, slightly amused.
"I just put you face to face with the reality" insisted Castiel.
"And how could you know it would work?"
"Why, it worked?" asked the angel rising an eyebrow.
"Well, you could say I'm considering the idea of my eventual surrender" smiled the hunter.
Another rumble in the sky; Dean wondered how it could thunder without clouds in sight.
"So, you came here just to tell me this?" he asked.
Castiel nodded, walking away from him.
"And now where are you going?"
Castiel shrugged. Another step away.
"Are you leaving?" asked Dean. "You just lecture me and run away?" he tried to laugh.
Castiel still looked him in the eyes. One more step.
"I'll see you soon, right?" the hunter tried again.
Castiel stopped.
"Don't ask question you don't want to know the answer" he admonished .
"You know I'm a terrible liar. I'd just tell something that would betray me" he added with a sad smile.

And if you think I won't live up to it,
call me,
I'll follow you

(Se poi pensi che non ne vivrò
chiamami,
ti seguirò)

"Cas, wait a second!" Dean took some steps toward the angel. "Your trench coat. I'm sure it's the usual one"
Castiel nodded. "It's the same trench coat"
The hunter shook his head, as if to send away an annoying fly. "But it was dirty, and wet, and I took it, I kept…"
"You still have it, Dean"
Dean laughed and looked at the angel like he was looking to a mad drunk.
"How can I have it if you are wearing it?" he stated lightly.
Some instants passed before Castiel's lips parted again.
"I'm not wearing it"
Dean opened his mouth, but then closed it again. He scratched his eyes with his right hand, then he pointed it in Castiel's direction.
"I'm dreaming, ain't I?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.
"All of this isn't real, it's just happening in my fucking head" he hissed clenching his fists.
"Of course it't happening inside your head. Why should that mean that it's not real?" answered back Castiel.
From Dean's lips came an hysteric laugh. "Don't go Dumbledore on me now!"
"Who?" inquired the angel.
"At least on my dream you could grasp my references"
Castiel tilted his head, making his trademark scowling face.
"In your dream I could be as you want. Apparently you want me as I am" he explained.
A thunder, another rumble in the sky.
"Where am I really?"
"In the Impala with Sam. You have a new case" stated Castiel.
Another rumble, a quick flash between the clouds.
"I'm sorry, Dean" Castiel's eyes looked bigger, more intense.
"Don't worry, you are only an hall…"
"For going away, I mean"
Dean brought his hands to his head "It's not really effective. It's my head that's saying it, not you - not the real you, I mean"
"Your head knows it's true"
Dean considered some time those words.
"Everybody leaves" he whispered at last. "You, Bobby, Ellen, Jo…"
Castiel interrupted his never ending list. "Not everybody. Sam is still with you"
Dean laughed again, an hollow laugh, nearly spectral. "Sammy is the one that leaves the most"
"But he comes back" affirmed simply Castiel. "And now is your turn to come back"
It was easy to guess he didn't mean only physically. He would have to put back together all the pieces of himself; it would take time - every person who died had took a fragment with him or her - but a puzzle without some pieces is still a puzzle in the end.
It was then that Dean lifted his eyes.
Castiel kept moving away, step after step, slowly.
Another rumble. Now he recognized it: it was his Baby.

I wanted you to be here,
I asked so much for it and it happened
a long dream, one night and then goodbye...
angel of mine

(Volevo io che tu fossi qui
ho chiesto troppo e quindi è andata così
un sogno lungo una notte e poi addio
angelo mio)

"Goodbye, Dean"
And he disappeared.

Hello sweeties!
If you're here, you have had the bravery to read until the very end (yes, I'm quoting Harry Potter again). So: thank you!
I usually write in Italian language, but I would try to enter in the English Fandom. I've already published this one-shot on Efp with the same nickname.
I have to thank my friend Dory who translated this story for me: you're toooo precious for this world!
The song I used is "angelo mio" by Tiziano Ferro; he's not one of my favourite singers, but when I heard this song I suddenly thought "hey, this would be perfect as soundtrack for a supersad destiel!". And here we are.
I have a lot of other story – destiel and not – in my mind and I'll try to publish them all on this archive – when I will not be too busy with my plans for global domination, of course.

Thanks again for reading and…
Have a Supernatural day!
SweetTaiga