AN: Okay. So. This took forever and I apologize, but instead of a quick, 2000-word one shot, this monstrosity has turned into five chapters. Which is good, I guess, at least for you guys. :) For those of you who have read What Hurts the Most (and if you haven't, I strongly suggest reading it first, because this probably won't make sense otherwise), this takes place a few weeks or so after the funeral, but obviously way before the epilogue. (Special thank you to guest reviewer Rose for the idea that has already spiraled so much farther than I anticipated!)

Gabriel is moving, and as pissed as Dean is, he can't really blame the guy. No way in hell Dean would stay in that gigantic house alone, with all those memories, if it had been his brother. Dean knows that Sam is broken up about Gabriel leaving, but there isn't anything either of them can do to make him stay. Gabriel won't even tell them where he's going, just that he wants to see the East Coast.

Before he leaves, he stops by Sam's house with a giant cardboard box in hand. When Dean answers the door, he's surprised to see Gabriel even bothered to say goodbye, let alone bring anything with him. "Here," Gabriel says, shoving the box at Dean almost violently. "This box didn't fit in the moving truck."

Dean just stares at it, then at Gabriel. "Why the hell are you giving it to me?"

Gabriel rolls his eyes as if it's obvious Dean should know, and Dean holds back the urge to punch him in the face. "It's Cas' old stuff," he explains impatiently. "I found most of it in the back of his closet, some under his bed. I don't want it, and it doesn't fit in the truck, but I can't just get rid of it."

"So you think I want it?" Dean scoffs. "You think I want anything to do with him anymore?"

"Yeah," Gabriel challenges. "I think you do."

Dean almost laughs at the idea, but before he can shut the door in Gabriel's face, Sam comes down the staircase. "Dean, who are you talking—?" If Dean didn't know how much it hurt his brother to see Gabriel again, he would have thought Sam's expression was almost comical. His nose scrunched up, and his eyes went wide. "Gabe?" Sam said, walking slowly up to the door. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Hey, Sammy," Gabriel starts, but Sam flinches.

"Don't call me that," he says quietly, and Gabriel has the decency to look ashamed of himself for acting like nothing has changed and everything between him and Sam is fine.

"I wanted to drop off some of Cas' things," he tells Sam. "But your brother doesn't want them."

Sam gives Dean a look, and Dean just frowns at him. The last thing Dean wants is to have any reminder of Cas, why can't Gabriel or Sam see that? "You're right, I don't. So you can take your box and either leave it on the side of the road or throw it in a dumpster, but don't give it to me."

"Dean," Sam says quickly, before Gabriel leaves, "Wait." Dean glares at him, but Sam is already turned toward Gabriel. "Gabe, give it to me. I'll keep it."

Gabriel nods gratefully and hands Sam the box, and Dean fumes. "I don't want it, Sam, what the hell?"

Sam just shushes him, something he hasn't done in years, and then says goodbye to Gabriel. Dean can tell there's something both of them still want to say to each other, but they stay silent and Gabriel drives off in his stupid fancy car.

"You're probably never gonna see him again, and you're just gonna let him go like that?" Dean asks, and when Sam looks at him his eyes are so full of mixed emotions that Dean simply shuts up. "What's in the box that I don't want to see?" he asks instead, pulling out an object that looks sort of like an old shoebox. When he opens it, it's full of old, frayed paintbrushes and a set of paints that looks dried out. "An art set," he says.

"Gabriel did say he wanted to be a painter," Sam points out, and Dean remembers very clearly the moment at the funeral he realized Cas was almost a total stranger to him.

"Anything else interesting?" Dean asks, putting the lid back on the shoebox and hoping Sam doesn't realize he's too already too enveloped in memories to look through anymore of Cas' stuff.

Sam sifts through it for a while, removing a few classic books and setting them on the kitchen counter, a handful of baseball trading cards, a picture. Sam shows him the photograph, which is an old polaroid captioned "Summer 1999" that shows Cas, age 16 or so, Gabriel around 19, and six other older children, all standing proudly next to an elaborate sandcastle that must have taken hours to build. Dean smiles at how happy Cas looks for a moment before he realizes this might have been the last picture Cas had of his family when they were all still together and happy. Before Cas was disowned and his family was torn apart and everything went to shit.

He puts the picture down carefully, and ignores his sudden need to close his eyes and forget any of this happening.

"Dean," Sam says suddenly. "Is this… Cas' journal?"

Dean looks at the notebook Sam is holding, and he suddenly decides that no matter what is inside it, what it says about Cas or Dean or anyone, Dean never wants to know. "Doesn't matter," he shrugs, hoping Sam can't see how terrified he has just become. "If it's his private diary or whatever, we shouldn't read it."

Sam nods, and placing it in the pile next to the other books. "What do you want to do with all this stuff? I could put it in the attic, if you want…"

Dean shakes his head vigorously, and then realizes that looks like he's attached to these random objects and he tries to play it off. "Nah, I'll take it," he says, and he puts the stack of books and cards and the picture back in the box and takes it upstairs before Sam can ask questions.

When he gets to his bedroom, he closes the door behind him and sets the box on his bed. He stares at it for a while, then he sits down beside it and stares some more.

What the fuck is he supposed to do with this? This tiny piece of Cas, this slice of his life and soul preserved against the terrible events of the world and time. It's untainted by any horrible memories, and Dean doesn't know if he wants to change that or not.

He thinks it might be better to deal with all this when he doesn't feel like shooting Gabriel in the face or taking a very long nap, but then he sees the journal, sitting on top of all the other books in the box, and he grows deadly curious. He really doesn't want to know what's in it, it's gonna hurt so freaking much to read, and it's all around a very bad idea.

He pulls it out of the box and opens it to the first page.