A/N: So, this is my first supernatural fanfic. Please R&R!

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Supernatural. Maybe in some alternate universe I do. But not here.

Pairing: Destiel

Dean didn't know how long he'd been standing there for. It could have been hours, or days- although Sam probably would have been looking for him- or just seconds.

He didn't know.

And he didn't care.

He was still standing there, looking at the place where Castiel had vanished.

"I'm sorry, Dean."

He hated angels sometimes. He could never get in the last word.

It was hard to believe that Cas was gone. Just like that. Without even looking back. Dean felt like he was on the verge of tears, and he didn't know why.

"Fuck you, you stupid angel," Dean muttered, hurling a nearby cup at the wall. He looked on in satisfaction as it shattered into pieces, drifting to the ground.

He liked to pretend it was Cas.

But hurling household objects soon became old, and left Dean feeling drained.

He felt utterly alone.

Which was ridiculous, because he had Sam and Bobby.

But it wasn't the same.

What was it about Cas? Dean struggled to sift through his feelings for the angel. If he was to be completely honest with himself, he was terribly afraid of what he might find.

Cas had always been around. Even when Cas wasn't physically standing next to him, Dean knew that he could call the angel to him when there was a need.

He felt stupid for trying, but Dean closed his eyes in prayer. "Dear…Cas. You bastard. Why can't you trust me. Trust us. We could have helped you. I mean- what are supposed to do without you? Come back Cas, you fucker." He waited in silence, hoping to hear the familiar flutter of wings.

No sound came.

"I don't know what I was expecting," Dean grumbled, eager to push back the feelings of hopelessness that were creeping into his inner core.

He downed a shot of whiskey, crashing onto the couch. He was soon seduced by the lures of sleep, and drifted into a peaceful slumber. He dreamed of being cradled in the wings of an angel wearing a familiar tan trench coat.

"Don't leave me, Cas. Please. I…I need you," he muttered aloud to no one in particular.

He didn't notice the angel that appeared by his side, laying a gentle hand on his cheek.

"I'll never leave you, Dean," Castiel whispered softly, "Even when I'm not standing next to you, I will always hear your prayers." He cleared his throat gruffly when his voice cracked.

Slowly removing his hand from Dean's cheek, Castiel took one long last look at Dean's face before disappearing.

He wished he could have stayed longer, but he had a war to fight. But now, he had something- someone- worth fighting for.

A/N, so this originally started off as a random one shot that came into my head after watching 6x20. This is my first supernatural fanfic. Destiel has just become so OTP to me, so I had to. I have some ideas to continue this, but I kind of want to wait until the finale to finish. Anyways, please review and leave me any comments or critiques!