There was nothing. He was gone. No he'd be back he just needed space. Right? Cas Stared blankly at the wall. There was no purpose to air if Dean wasn't breathing it. Dean. He couldn't move he stared. It had been hours since he left. Hours ago Dean had been here. Sitting exactly where Cas now sat. Facing the same blank wall that whispered secrets of loneliness. As he sat he thought about the things they had done... Before the war... Before the promise...Before he had lost him. He thought of all the times Dean told him he loved him, the times of when Dean kissed him quietly on the forehead thinking Cas was asleep. He thought of the promise, the promise Dean had made, when he swore he would never leave him. The day they threw away the blood covered steel. Subconsciously Cas rubbed his wrists feeling the rigid stripes that plaqued his youth. Before Dean. Before He had lost him. Cas realized these weren't the only scars he had. Some wounds were deeper then the flesh. Cas finally got up and went to the bathroom and rummaged through the drawer and found his razor. He flicked off the safety case and greeted a familiar friend. He promised he would never do it again, but a broken promise for a broken promise. Everything broke it was always a matter of time. Cas knew this now. Dean had given him a reason to live and a reason to die what lies between is pain. Pain of a broken heart. Pain of a broken promise. The pain of a crimson river.