"Hello Dean" Castiel began. He collapsed on to weakened knees. It had been around 6 months now. Funny how it never seemed to grow any easier for the angel. He quickly trailed the place with his eyes, the greenery of summer trees and freshly mowed grass; the fresh smell of flowers. Green. There was too much of it. It was too much for Cas. It reminded him of Dean and his eyes. The eyes that had once held mystery and worlds beyond. He trailed a hand over the grave and felt the rush of a chill run through him as his hand started shaking. His knees became too weak to hold him and he collapsed further onto the soft ground beneath him, crossing his legs. He traced the golden name on the big, dark, marble grave and looked into the sky briefly. Castiel seeks for comfort and a silent thread of hope tells him that out there, somewhere, Dean is finally happy. Castiel closed his eyes as a tear silently rolled down his face. The blinking was constant, yet his vision never became any clearer. He took a deep breath and tasted his own tears. He wanted to be strong. Wanted Dean to know that it was okay. His stomach ached and his heart felt heavy. He closed his grip tighter on the grave. "Damn it, Dean... I should have gotten to you sooner. Remember when I pulled you out of hell? I saved you. Ever since I met you, you changed me; made me go against all that I stood for. You made me better Dean. I forgot to tell you that. Thank you Dean. I never knew how much I needed someone until I met you. You deserved so much more. You told me once, that you were a monster. You couldn't possibly be a hero. Well... You sure proved yourself wrong didn't you? Dean... You saved me in more ways than I can possibly imagine. I never even got to tell you that I love you..." Castiel realised that he had just mouthed those words for the first time. What a waste. Bile rose in his throat and he tried to swallow past the think lump that threatened to stop him from speaking altogether; his voice barely a whisper. In a heart beat, Castiel was hit like a wave of energy with one single thought, three words. Dean is dead. Instead of bursting out into tears, Castiel abnormally felt the sharp sting of anger. He couldn't control his emotions. "I'm supposed to be up there! Watching over you! Not the other way around! That's not fair! Damn it I would give anything... I should have saved you! It's my job!" That tiny, insignificant rant allowed all of the hatred to leave him suddenly. Now all of the loathed pain came crawling back, seeping its way into Castiel like dangerous needles. "You never did completely give up on me. You'd always tell me that we can fix this. I'm so sorry Dean. I don't know what to do anymore. Can you hear me? Just... Come back. Or I'm going to get you back, Dean." Castiel made that promise. Although it meant nothing now, the slither of hope that coursed its way through him, allowed Castiel to keep going for many days until he would find his best friend again. Until then, Castiel would not utter one word about or to Dean, until he was back where he belonged. By his side.
