Did you lose what won't return? Did you love but never learn? The fire's out but still it burns and no one cares, there's no one there. Did you find it hard to breathe? Did you cry so much that you could barely sleep in the darkness all alone? And no one cares, there's no one there.

Baytown, Texas

It was 3am and the only thing that was familiar to Dean was the loud snoring of his giant of a brother. They had decided to spend the night in yet another lousy motel. The beds were horribly uncomfortable and squeaky, the walls had been painted in a disgusting lime green colour, the decoration was faring no better. The sheets were itchy on his skin, and Dean could have bet that he was not alone under the duvets. But he had seen worse. At least Sam had had the decency to buy his elder brother some pie.

Everything would have been better if Castiel had been there to hold him close. Dean found that he missed the presence of the angel more than he cared to let anybody know. Neither Sam, nor Bobby could help him on this one: Cas was gone, killed by the leviathans, and nothing could bring him back. God had grown tired of bringing him back. He had punished His son for reaching too high, for pretending to be God, for walking in his Father's shoes for a mile. Castiel had fulfilled the dream of every child: be like his father. He had believed he could do it better. He had believed he could change all the inequalities in the world. He had been wrong.

And since Cas had left, Dean hadn't been able to open to anyone. Even the prospect of one night stands didn't appeal to him. Cas was his everything and they had taken him away. The worst about it was that Dean had never had the courage to tell his angel how much he meant to him.

So Dean had always waited until he was lying in bed to hide his face in his pillow to start crying after Cas had left his life. He missed his angel. He missed his presence, his deep voice, he missed how his angel would simply sit down on his bed and watch over his sleep. He missed everything about Cas, yes even his worn trench coat that still bore the unique scent of the angel. Dean hated to admit that he sometimes sniffed at the piece of clothing whenever he picked his weapons out of the boot of his Impala. Sometimes, the scent would linger for the rest of the day: most often, Dean would have to toss it back inside the boot so Sam wouldn't notice. Because Sammy didn't need to know that his brother was feeling like crap.

The tears flowed again. Dean didn't understand how he could still have tears left to cry. He felt alone, forgotten and abandoned. He couldn't tell Sam about his feelings, because Dean knew his baby brother wouldn't understand. Dean had never told Cas that he loved him and Sam had always reprimanded him for it: the elder Winchester didn't want to see the 'I told you' written all over Sam's face. Because he might start throwing punches at him. And he didn't want to hurt his brother. But Dean started to feel the weight of Castiel's absence in his life. He would have done anything, God forgive him, anything to see Castiel one last time, so he could tell him everything he had left unsaid.

But it was too late. Dean was too late.

If someone said three years from now you'd be gone I'd stand up and punch them out, because they're all wrong. But they knew better, still you said forever and ever! Who knew?

By a corn field in Montana

Sam was sleeping on the passenger seat of the Impala and Dean couldn't blame him. They had been driving for the past 6 hours after fighting a whole nest of vampires. Sam had been slightly hurt, but nothing that wouldn't heal quickly, still it had drained his strengths. Dean couldn't help but think that if Cas had been there, he would have been able to heal Sam with a simple touch. But Castiel was not here. And that realization still hurt Dean more than he cared to show.

The older hunter took a sip of whiskey out of his silver flask, feeling the familiar burn of the alcohol run down his throat. He looked up at the sky, green orbs observing the stars playing hide and seek with the clouds. Somehow, Dean always expected Cas to miraculously appear next to him, wearing his tie the wrong way around, looking at Dean with a small secret smile on his lips saying see, told you I would never leave your side. And Dean would smile back, knowing that he had been foolish to believe Cas was dead for good, and he would step off the hood of the Impala on which he had been sitting contemplating the stars to retrieve Cas' trench coat from the boot. And all would be like before.

But that wouldn't happen, despite how much Dean wished it would. Sam had told him that there was no way Castiel would return and that the angel was gone forever. Dean didn't want to believe him, just as he hadn't wanted to believe that Cas could have formed an alliance with the demon Crowley. He had been wrong there, but this time, Dean had learned that everything Castiel did he did it to protect his family, and by that he didn't mean his celestial siblings, but indeed the Winchester brothers and Bobby. And Dean would smite anyone who tried to tell him that his angel was gone forever. Because he had faith in Castiel. He knew his angel would return to him.

Sooner or later, they would be back together.

Dean looked at the stars again, wondering if Castiel was watching over him. Just in case, he smiled at the sky and sent a prayer to his favourite angel. Don't you dare be dead, Cas. If I find out that you're not ever bringing back your sexy feathery ass down here, I'm going to kill you!

It's like I've been awakened, every rule I have you breaking is the risk that I'm taking. I'm never gonna shut you out. Everywhere I'm looking now, I'm surrounded by your embrace. Baby I can see your halo, you know you're my saving grace.

In a motel about 100 miles away from Boston

There were the moments of loneliness, and those of utter incomprehension, the moments when Dean would damn every angel and demon he knew and pray to a God he wasn't even sure existed to bring his Castiel back. But since a few days, Dean had started feeling guilty, as if all that had happened to Cas had been brought upon his angel by none other than the older Winchester himself. Castiel had rebelled for Dean, he had challenged the authority of his superiors in charge, he had fallen in love with a human being, which Dean assumed was considered a sin among the celestial dicks that ruled the world from up there. Castiel's wish had been to keep the world (and most importantly Dean) safe from Raphael. He had gladly welcomed the damned souls inside his body, as well as leviathans, which had been too strong for him in the end and had held onto his vessel.

Castiel was dead.

Jimmy Novak was no more.

Dean was broken.

And yet, he had been allowed to live on. Castiel had given up everything for Sam and him. Hell, Dean was sure that Castiel would have given up his grace and wings to save Dean Winchester's arse. And yet, he had been the one to die. And Dean had never told him that he loved him and that it was not just a sexual attraction. In fact, if it had been sorely sexual, Dean would have been attracted to Jimmy Novak, but it was Castiel that had bewitched him. For the first time, he had not fallen in love with someone's looks first. He had fallen in love on a psychological level.

However, there was a part of Castiel that would always remain in him. That one fraction of his grace that Castiel had used to put Dean back together in purgatory. Cas' handprint on Dean's shoulder was beginning to fade, but it was still there and Dean swore that whenever he touched the mark, he could feel this piece of grace inside his body stir. And this feeling of well-being that followed this simple touch was what kept Dean on going. It was his last hope. Castiel was alive, or else his grace wouldn't still be as vivid in Dean. Castiel was somewhere, fighting for humanity, fighting for his father's creations, fighting for Dean.

Castiel had never been gone. Not really. He was always there, with Dean, watching over him, giving him hope, assuring his faith. And Dean could positively say that he believed. He believed in Cas, he believed in his return, he believed in a better world.

And Dean would not stop fighting. Not yet.