A/N: Hey everyone!
This is my first Supernatural/Destiel fanfic ever. I'm not sure if I'll continue it. Here's the first chapter. I just want to see how you all react to it. ^_^
I saw the preview for season 9 and got inspired to write this.
Sam just lied there, almost lifelessly, but judging by the way his stomach rose slowly with the soft breathes he took and the monitor still beeping, it was a definite that he was indeed still alive. Dean sighed as he leaned over slightly in his seat, staring at the features on his little brother's face. He furrowed his eyebrows as if expecting to see Sam open his eyes, but no.
Nothing.
Only silence between the brothers.
"Come on, Sam," Dean whispered. "Pull through. You can do this. I know you can. You're strong."
No response.
Green eyes felt watery, but Dean held those tears back. Allowing them to fall would do nothing. It would not help his brother and though it would soothe a small amount of the pain, it would only be temporarily. Making crying to be useless overall.
"You're going to fight this," Dean whispered again. "You're going to fight, just like you always have. You're a fighter, Sammy. You don't give up." But since he received no response in return again, the urge to stay strong began to decrease.
Dean felt his lower lip quiver just a bit and he took a deep breath. "We could've prevented this, Sam. I could've taken those trials instead of you like we planned in the beginning. This could've been me lying in the hospital bed instead of you, or better yet, dead." He pursed his lips as he struggled to hold in those stubborn tears. "I told you I'd rather be dead then have this happen to you. I told you that you deserved that normal life and you will get it. Believe me, Sammy, you will." He scooted his chair closer to the hospital bed and grabbed Sam's wrist. "Because you will fight this. If any reaper gets near you, you look them in the eye and say 'Not this time'. Especially not while I'm still around. You understand?"
And yet, silence enveloped them and Dean felt his patience fading, along with his hope. Whatever hope was. He never really had hope in anything. If things happened, they happened. If they didn't, then they didn't.
But right now, he hoped his little brother would speak. He hoped that things would return to normal. Well, their version of normal.
Dean sighed as he stood up from his seat and walked over to the window. Staring out, he saw only a few cars driving by, revealing a slow, yet peaceful day for the outside world. Good for those people.
They didn't know what had happened, that all the angels from heaven had fallen because of a trick a certain angel was fooled into. The poor bastard only wanted heaven to restore to its original state, and he got quite the opposite.
Dean closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "Cas... man, I know you can't hear me... not anymore. It's too bad you didn't get what you wanted. We're the kind of people who don't deserve to get what we want. It's just seems to be how our lives work." Slowly, his eyelids lifted and he stared up at the sky. "Wherever you are, Cas. Humans are just as much as dicks as you guys were." Dean smirked to himself, but it faded almost too quickly as the tears began to burn his eyes again. "Right now, I need you. Cas... where are you?" And as a single tear made its way down his cheek, Dean squeezed his eyes shut.
Castiel stared at the road up ahead as he slowly walked it with nothing but emptiness following. It had only been a day since he started his new life as a human.
The thought so unfamiliar.
The feeling all too confusing.
His stomach was growling. His head was pounding. And he was just exhausted. If only there were somewhere he could lie for the rest of the dying day, but the side of the road wasn't comforting. No matter how tired he was, it wasn't worth sleeping on hard, dirty ground. Though it was starting to look inviting the more he walked.
But he was determined to keep going, to search for who he was searching for—Dean Winchester.
The last time he saw him, the hunter had been worried for his brother's life after being told that the trials were going to not just close the gates of hell, but also kill the one who took the challenge.
Castiel's lips parted slightly as he recalled Naomi's words and he could feel guilt rising in him. She had told him the angel trials weren't going to help, and he didn't listen. Now, she was dead, and he couldn't shake the feeling away that it was his fault. He hadn't wanted to believe her.
But she had been right about everything.
Cas swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head.
Did that mean that... Sam was... dead?
Or had Dean managed to rescue him?
The fallen angel in a trench coat rubbed his eyes in frustration. He needed these answers. He needed to know if Dean was okay, if Sam was okay. Sam was an utter mess the last he saw him. And Cas just wanted to be there with them. He wanted to listen to Dean's voice and maybe even comfort him if Sam was really not well. Cas was never great with comforting, but if it would help the only best friend he had ever had, then he would attempt to soothe whatever sorrow Dean was feeling.
If it meant those green eyes would brighten up again, then Cas would do it.
The last time they had spoken, they weren't exactly on great terms together, but even in the past when things were rough in their friendship, they always found a way back to each other.
Cas stopped abruptly at the thought, his blue eyes widening.
Yes.
He would find Dean.
He always found Dean.
And Dean always found him.
It would be no different this time. He would make sure of it.
And with the new burst of confidence, the fallen angel began to jog. He had no idea where he was heading to, but he had a feeling that, somehow, if he kept going, he would find the path that led back to the Winchesters.
And it was quite a silly thought, he knew that. Dean and Sam were probably on the other side of the country, because when he was blasted back to Earth, Cas had no idea where exactly he had landed, but that didn't stop him from continuing on his way.
He knew he would find them.
He had to.