A short fic written right after watching 703, but not much spoilers. Enjoy.


When Sam, then Bobby left Dean sat up and placed his feet flat on the ground, well as flat as the cast would allow, bent his elbows and rested them on his knees, clasped his hands together, pressed his forehead against his fists and prayed. Every moment he was alone he would pray. Ever since Castiel walked into that water and did not resurface, he had taken to praying. Now, as he sat alone in the silence, he thought back to four years ago, five or even six years ago, and how he had never once prayed. He thinks that maybe if he had started earlier he could have avoided this. This heart break, this awful life he has come down to. The first few times he prayed he prayed for Castiel. He prayed that he would come back, that he was okay, that he would be able to go back to heaven. After that he prayed for Sam and for his mind to shut out the thoughts to hell, and for him to be able to forget his past troubles and be able to live with what he had done in the past. Then he prayed for Bobby, he hoped that Bobby would forgive him for everything that he had done to the man, he prayed that he would be able to live long and to see an old age.

Dean clenched his hands tighter, as if it would make the prayers stronger, and held back a sob. He hadn't cried, and he thought that was a success. He was praying for Castiel again, he whispered words into his fingers and hoped that whoever was up there was listening. Dean wasn't sure if he was praying to God or maybe to Joshua, but he knew why he was praying. He was praying because it was the only thing he could do. Sit on the sofa and pray.

Today he knew he should pray for Sam and for all the shit he was going through, but all he could think of was Castiel. He mind flew to the trench coat laying in his room, under the bed, folded and neat, waiting. He spoke to Castiel though his hands. He told him how he missed him, and that the work was shit without him, and that he was a dumb fucker for thinking he could be a God. Then he apologized for always being a dick to him and taking him for granted. He unclasped his hands and placed one on the burn he had received three years ago when he was pulled from hell.

Dean then had worse thoughts about Castiel being in hell and being on the rack. The things they would do to an angel...Dean didn't even want to think about that. But it was all he could think about. He could only imagine Castiel suffering down below. He threw his hands back together and prayed, begged to save Castiel. If the angel could go down and get him and Sam, he should be able to run down and pull out the blue eyed angel. Dean pleaded, but just as before when he prayed nothing happened.