A/N: This ficlet was inspired by midget-banana tumblr /post/92066287875/their-greatest-asset-is-their-greatest-curse . Artist gave permission to post.
Castiel is sprawled over the tomb, lost in thought. That's all he can really do these days. Sprawl over the cool marble and think.
He thinks about all the adventures he shared with the man in the tomb. He thinks of the years past, of the battles, of the peace. He thinks of the smiles, of the tears, of the hugs shared between himself and the man.
More often than not, he thinks of the feelings. Trust, friendship, brotherhood. Betrayal, anger, hurt. Love.
He remembers all that he did for those emotions. All of the things he did for this one man.
The memories make him sad.
It is only the placement of a hand on his shoulder that shakes Castiel from his thoughts. At first, the hand comes every day, for many days. Then it comes every few days. Then every few weeks. Then, only a few times a year.
It doesn't matter to Castiel how often he is visited. Whenever he feels the hand, he waits for the voice to follow.
"One, two, three."
Castiel feels the release of weight on three, and he lifts himself from the marble and puts his arms around the visitor, in the gentlest hug he can muster despite his want to squeeze the visitor tightly. These visits are the only comfort he has besides the small forest creatures that like to crawl over his frozen vessel.
He closes his eyes and buries his head gently into the visitor's shoulder, then taps the visitor's arm sharply. Then he is frozen once again as the weight returns.
Castiel wishes he could react to the warm arms that reach around him and try to pull him closer into the visitor's body. He wishes he could be pulled.
They stand in this position for a while, before the warmth is released. The visitor always says the same thing before he counts again.
"I'm so sorry, Cas. I wish there was something I could do to help you. One, two, three."
It is then that Castiel always returns to his sprawl over the tomb. The visitor's count doesn't stop until he reaches thirty. Once the final number has slipped from his lips, Castiel feels the weight return with his thoughts.
All he can ever think about is Dean.