His face was resting in his hands; he was trying very hard not to cry. He had to stay strong, he had to be brave. He had to be the man people expected him to be. And this man couldn't cry. Lifting his head, he laid an eye on the body in front of him. How was it possible for something like that to happen? How could they have screwed things so bad that life would get revenge in such a cruel way? Their relationship might not have been the best nor the perfect one, but they loved each other. Their bond was strong and they were fighting together. They had learned so much over the years only by being in each other's company— it couldn't end this way. He had seen life leave his staring eyes. He had seen them empty of this subtle light that made his eyes bright all the time. He remembered the feeling of his last breath, and he would never be able to forget it. How could they have screwed so much? And he could never ever forget those last words : " I'm proud of us."
It was too much. Sam had to leave the room. Seeing his brother in such a vulnerable position was unthinkable: Dean couldn't be dead. He had so much more to live, so much more to discover, so many words unsaid to the right people. Sam prayed to the angels but none of them had answer his calls, not even Cas. He angrily wiped the few tears escaping his eyes, wanting to scream his wrath, his despair. He took his coat and left the bunker. He drove the Impala until he reached those crossroads. He was ready to die for his brother. All he wanted was Dean alive.
Dean was laying in his bed with memory foam— the one he was so excited about. The room was in complete silence. He had hung the few photos he still had in his possession: one with his mother, playing in the park. Mary looked so happy, she was laughing at whatever 3-years-old Dean had said then. He also had one with baby Sam sitting on his lap, his parents behind him, looking at them. The Winchesters had never seen John happier than he was on the picture. It was the first real room Dean ever had in almost 30 years and he took care of it: no clothes on the floor, he had made his bed that morning, everything was at the right place.
Not even a fly was heard until the door creaked. The footsteps were soft and quiet.
" Dean..." Cas sighed.
He placed the desk chair next to the bed and sat. Cas didn't know how long he would be able to stay in this room. That vision of Dean was really too painful and brought back too many memories he'd prefer to forget. He placed his hand on his chest and tried to give him some vital force, a part of his grace. Dean didn't move. He closed his eyes trying to contain this powerful feeling he couldn't identify, the emptiness he felt inside his body... Flashes come before his eyes. He saw himself sitting on the ground, in Heaven, his head between his hands, his eyes crazy. He even heard him again: " Cas... Cas where are you? I don't wanna die Cas, not like that. I know I said I was ready but I can't, not now, not like that..." Dean had prayed like that from the moment he was stabbed until he died.
Cas couldn't stay still anymore. His own behavior made him so angry. How could he have been so weak? Why couldn't he save Dean, why has he been pinned to the ground by pain? He took the chair he was sitting on and threw it on the desk, destroying it. The anger he felt was killing him. His eyes found the photos hanging on the walls. He took one, on which Dean was sleeping in his Impala, probably taken with Sam's phone. He looked so calm, so alive. Cas couldn't restrain himself; he threw it on the ground, the frame shattered. He took them all and they all went straight to the ground, too. There was glass everywhere on the floor but Cas couldn't calm down. He took the last one, next to the door and looked at it. There was young Dean and young Sam, in their early twenties, smiling to the camera. Cas couldn't take it anymore. He fell on the ground, the picture on his chest, crying for the first time in his very long life.
Cas wiped the tears on his cheeks and went next to the bed where he sat on the ground and took Dean's hand. In a low hoarse voice, Cas told Dean all he remembered from his life. How he saw him take his first step. How he laughed when he heard his first words.
" I wish you could remember the look on Mary's face when you said "pie", Dean. She was so surprised and John...John couldn't believe her. He had wished so hard that "dad" would've been your first word."
" And when you had your first girlfriend, Dean that's when I knew. This feeling of jealousy each time I saw you kissing her, and all the others after. They don't talk about these feelings in Heaven, they are too human. When you died, for the first time, I raised you from perdition because I was being selfish Dean, I had to know you."
Cas had no idea why he was saying all those things so he stopped. He put back Dean's hand by his side and just sat there, staring at the wall. After a while, Cas decided to go back to Heaven and to never come back. He would look after Sam, of course, because that's what Dean would have wanted, but he couldn't be with humans anymore. Their loss was unbearable. Just as he started walking towards the door, Cas heard a sound behind him.
" Cas? What the hell happened here?"
He was barely breathing, his eyes were barely open, but he was back. Dean Winchester was alive.