A/N.- First of all, I want to thank anyone who took the time to open this story, it means a lot to me and I hope that you won't regret it. This is the first time I plan on publishing a big story, and I'm not sure if I should continue. I hope this can reach my own expectations and that you enjoy reading this as much as I'll enjoy writing and let me know what you think... thank you!

When you said your last goodbye
I died a little bit inside.
I lay in tears in bed all night
alone without you by my side.

Dean Winchester wasn't the happiest man alive. He wasn't content with his life either. And he wasn't part of the miserable bunch that lived their questionably important lives doing their unimportant daily activities.

He was 30 year old fireman; he had a respected job, and was no doubt a hero. He was doing something very important with his life, and that had once been more than enough. He had been more than content with that.

Dean had never been a miserable man before, but right now he wondered if this was misery, or if he had a more bitter sensation to experience yet.

He was diagnosed with lung cancer 5 hours ago. He's been sitting on the same couch for the past 3 hours since he got home, and he has yet to form a complete, coherent thought on his dumb stricken mind. One of the few things he had clear was that he couldn't even remember driving here.

He sighed and leaned his elbows on his knees, face hiding on his hands. He didn't want to call his family. He didn't even want to see anyone's face when he told them the news. He didn't want to tell them yet. Heck, if he could he would just forget about all this.

After what seemed like forever he finally stood up with a heavy sigh and grabbed a drink. He started making his way to his room and paused in front of a picture. As he stared at the caught memory his stomach felt heavier and his head too crowded, and he distantly wondered how many drinks it would take to make the feeling go to sleep before he did.

2 years ago Dean lost the greatest love of his life. Not some person he would love for 2, 10, 20, or 30 years. No, it was the kind of love that lived after death, the kind of promise that you kept forever. A small smile graced his lips by the simple memory; his heart warmed as much as it ached when he remembered the name. Castiel…

Cas had brought such joy to his life that he couldn't bring himself to say he hated it. He had felt the true beauty love could offer, and had experienced it at its best. He didn't hate his life, he just… he wasn't happy with it. He was far from happy with it. Ok, so maybe he was close to hating it, but he wasn't there yet.

He took the picture with his free hand and allowed his mind to go back to that time. He still remembered perfectly. It was a picture of him and Castiel sitting on the trunk of the Impala, each with a beer on their hands. They were laughing, talking about nonsense and staring at the sunset. Jess had taken that picture around 4 years ago. They had been spending the day with her and Sam, when the small group decided to spend the evening on a lonely highway, not too far from town. It had been a pleasant evening, 4 young people in love, passing the time together, having fun, drinking cheap alcohol; it was the definition of being drunk with bliss. They had stopped drinking around 8:00pm, but they couldn't bring themselves to leave until 2:00am.

Dean sighed and blinked back the tears that formed on his eyes as he put the picture down. It felt so strange. 60% chance of living, said the doctor. 40% chance of dying. Dean was 40% dying at the moment, currently crying over a picture of him and his already dead lover. He wiped his face and took a sip from his drink.

He took a cold shower, and put on some boxers. He sat on his bed for a while, wondering if he would stare at a wall for hours without doing anything again. It took him 5 minutes to think about what Sammy would say if Dean told him about his situation, and that was all it took for the green eyed man to start crying. He hid his face on his hands, and sobbed quietly on them. What would Sammy do if he knew?

After a while, he tried to remember everything he could. He thought about Sam, he thought about Cas, he thought about everyone that came to mind, and soon the people started to became memories; moments, words, promises… And then a very important detail came back to haunt him.

"I finished it." Cas said as he grabbed Dean's hand. "Is on the top shelf of the closet. When you're ready, read it." His voice had a pleading tone to it.

"Yeah, ok Cas, I will." Dean replied, his voice breaking in the middle of his sentence.

"But promise you will read it." Cas insisted, his eyes wide and more demanding than before. Dean stared at them for a moment, and when the silence got too upsetting for Cas he spoke up again "Dean."

"Yeah, yeah I promise you." He finally responded, giving his lover's hand a gentle squeeze. "I promise you." He whispered, taking the hand to his lips and giving it a tender kiss.

A story, a message, a gift. Cas had called it so many different things every time he wasn't even sure what it was about. As if he had just remembered that he needed to get up to work, Dean stood up and quickly made his way to the closet, reaching for the top shelf and taking the box on his hands. He had remembered it so many times, but he never dared to open it. He was more afraid than curios, his sadness and every other overwhelming emotion that came with the thought of reading Cas' last message for him overcoming any desire to keep his promise.

But he was 40% dying now; he might as well read it now.

Dean stared at it for almost a whole minute, a part of him waiting to see if his mind would shut down and he would hide the box away again, but he was almost surprised to find he was- though nervous- carrying a desire to open the box. Some part of his brain, probably the part that was still shocked and not thinking clearly told him that if he read the message now, his problems would just go away. That somehow, Cas would make it better through a piece of him that he left behind, just for Dean.

"Alright then." He muttered. With a shaky breath and equally shaky hands, Dean opened the box, and found a small notebook in there. It was actually some kind of folder that looked suspiciously like an album, and he briefly wondered if he would just find pictures of them in there, but Cas had made it clear that it was some sort of story.

He opened the notebook, and took a sharp intake of breath when he saw the first page. There was a picture of him and Cas skydiving on a cloudy day. Cas was laughing in pure bliss while Dean laughed out of nervousness and slight fear, secured against his boyfriend's chest. He remembered, he remembered alright. Castiel had been so excited, so thrilled that Dean had accepted to skydive with him.

"We're falling!" Dean yelled once they were already on the free fall, but Castiel simply laughed.

"No, Dean, we're flying!" He had said.

Underneath the picture, there was a short sentence, a title, Dean guessed:

"At the end of the fall: THE GRAND STORY"

Castiel had been a photographer with frustrated dreams of becoming a writer, a fact Dean couldn't ignore now as he stared at the object on his hands. This had been Castiel's last story. The thought caused his eyes to water again, but he smiled and shook his head, not bothering to try to blink the tears away this time. His boyfriend could be so sappy sometimes.

He turned the page, and finally read the first part of Castiel's message. It sure was a long message.

"My dearest Dean,

I am so glad you finally decided to open my gift, I just hope it didn't take you 20 years. First of all, I want to apologize for leaving you, believe me when I say I would've stayed until the end with you. I'm sorry for not being there, that time when you needed me, and every other time after that. I also want to thank you, for every wonder you brought to my life. Our love was truly something, wasn't it?

I remember when Sam introduced us. Little bit of an ass I thought you were. Yeah, laugh all you want, but I wasn't wrong about that, you were actually an ass. If I had known then what I know now, though… because you were the greatest person that ever walked into my life, Dean. You simply walked in and took everything I was, and I didn't even mind. You had earned the last part of my life, and I gave it to you. And it was the best decision I ever made, and I can tell you now without a doubt that I never regretted it, not ever, not even once.

Our story was my best story, love. Do you understand what this means? It means that my life was my favorite story, the best one I ever made, and I made it next to you. I made it with you. And that's something that no book can ever compare to. It's a story that not even ten thousand different pictures can even fathom the idea of telling. And even though you know every word of it by heart, I choose to leave it here, for you now. I want you to feel it as I tell it, and nod and laugh as you understand me.

You will understand me, so don't worry. I can read every line to this letter in your green eyes, believe when I tell you, you've already heard this a thousand times.

Tears covered the page and Dean shook his head as he cried. He was hurting so much, but he was glad he finally opened that message. A small part of him told to go on, to keep reading, but he shook his head to himself. He didn't want to start reading only to fall asleep in the middle of a sentence. It felt wrong. No, he would do this, but he would do this right. Slow and patient, careful not to miss any word, not to miss any feeling.

He closed the folder and held it to his shaking chest, tears falling silently from his cheeks. He eventually fell asleep.