It had been two days since the fall. Dean hadn't gotten much sleep in the past 48 hours, mostly just little naps between caring for Sam, ensuring Kevin was okay, and occasionally feeding Crowley. But now that Sam was mobile, able to care for his basic necessities, Dean could focus on the worry he had pushed to the back of his mind: Cas.
He didn't know what had happened that night, most was a blur of Sam, getting Sam to safety, but he did remember one thing vividly; he remembered frantically calling out Castiel's name, watching angels light up the night sky. The pain in his chest, with Sam gasping for his life, with the trials failing, was only intensified by the thought of Cas being gone, gone forever... He couldn't handle it, so he focused all of his energy on Sam and Crowley, on their care and capture, until now.
Now, he found himself sitting in the Impala, leather at his back, highway flying under him, the only thought he had left being Cas. Dean didn't know where he was, or if he was even alive, but now, he wouldn't entertain that thought, he would simply drive until he found him, checking all the places Cas might go... He couldn't be dead. If there was any chance at all that Cas may be somewhere, Dean would be there. When his own thoughts began to betray him by imagining each scenario Castiel could have died in, Dean reached for the stereo and turned on whatever was on, only half listening. With the soft purr of the engine, the light vibration from the bass of the Led Zeppelin, "In My Time of Dying", Dean's thoughts instead turned to memories of Cas, of everything they had been through over the years.
"In my time of dying, want nobody to mourn
All I want for you to do is take my body home" The song started, Dean remembering when he first saw Castiel appear to die, after the purgatory souls, when he laid on the concrete floor, battered and bruised. It was the first time Dean felt something out of the ordinary for the angel, something deep... Now, he could pinpoint the emotion as longing.
"If my wings should fail me, Lord. Please meet me with another pair" Dean remembered the night sky, illuminated with the burning of angels, the burning of their wings, smashing into earth like meteorites. Dean remembered his own voice, his own choked off calls of Castiel's name, never wanting anything more than for him to be safe. He remembered the longing.
"Oh, Saint Peter, at the gates of heaven... Won't you let me in
I never did no harm, I never did no wrong" Dean remembered when Castiel was cut off from heaven, hunted by his own family, simply by trying to do what was right for him and Sam. Dean remembered the rage, the anger, the betrayal in his angel's eyes as he beat him in that alley, but he also remembered the flicker of pity, of friendship in his eyes when Cas watched him lay on the ground, beaten, begging for death. And when Cas simply uncurled his fist and left, Dean had the same feeling, the same pained longing.
"I've only been this young once. I never thought I'd do anybody no wrong
No, not once" Dean remembered the way Castiel had only tried to do what was right when he worked with Crowley, was only trying to free his family from the over rule of his brothers, of Raphael. Dean remembered the betrayal he felt, the anger at Castiel's lies, but when they trapped Cas in the holy fire, Dean remembered the sadness. He remembered the tugging in his chest when he met Castiel's regretful eyes, he remembered turning on his heel to leave him, he remembered feeling cold and empty... He remembered the longing.
"I see the smiling faces
I know I must have left some traces" Dean remembered Castiel's smile, however rare it was, he remembered the brightness in it, the depth of his happiness, even through everything he had to deal with, Dean found Castiel could still genuinely smile.
But now, in the impala, rain just beginning to fall on his windshield, Dean caught himself wondering if he would ever see that smile again, and there it was again... The longing, the need, just as urgent as it was in the crypt. He just hoped that this time, the longing would be quelled, that it wouldn't have to remain if Castiel was gone.
Night passed, and soon Dean found himself at the old run down church they had occupied during the fall. He killed the engine, some small hope burning inside him that his friend would be inside, waiting, safe and healthy. Shaking off the thought, as to not be disappointed, Dean ran a hand over his tired face and entered the church, finding it empty.
"Damn it, Cas..." Dean muttered, voice thick.
He hadn't really expected him to be here, for the chances that he was in the US, the chances that he was even alive were slim, but that hadn't stopped Dean from hoping. Sitting heavily on the chair that remained in the middle of the rotting building, the older hunter set his jaw, fending off the tears that were long overdue. Cas had just... Left. Said he was going to fix things, fix heaven, right his wrongs, and then the angels fell. What was he supposed to think, with Castiel running off with Metatron without warning... Cas could have been part of it, and Dean could just be fooled once more into giving his angel the benefit of the doubt. Tears slipped down the Winchester's worn face at the thought, his lips tight and quivering with the effort not to break down and sob.
"Cas, you son of a bitch. Where the hell are you..." He choked out, staring into the emptiness before him.
Castiel had been walking on and off for two days, not sure of where he was, where he was going, or what he was supposed to do. In the distance, illuminated by the early morning sunlight, the fallen angel spotted the run down church from two days previous, relief instantly washing over him. His feet were unnaturally tired, his stomach tight and pained, his body weary, but somehow the welcoming sight of the church pushed him on. It didn't take long for the Impala to come into view, and Castiel breathed out a weary sigh, gratefulness winding it's way into his chest as he made his way up the creaky steps, leaning against the doorway. His sight was met with Dean, head in hands, shoulders shaking, gentle sobs wracking his usually strong form.
"Dean..." Castiel croaked out, throat dry from lack of water, black spots dancing in his vision.
Dean started in his chair at the sound of his name and whipped around, hand already on his gun. Faltering at the form his gaze was filled by, he instantly rushed forward to catch a falling Castiel, pulling him up to his feet and into a quick embrace, arms wrapping tight around Cas' seemingly smaller form.
"What the hell happened to you?" Dean asked, standing the fallen angel up in front of him, watching him pale with the effort.
Castiel's new emotions instantly betrayed him, his eyes stinging with tears as he looked away from Dean's harsh tone, shaking his head wordlessly.
At Castiel's response, his obvious lack of power, control, or involvement in his current predicament, Dean nodded. Slowly, he silently lead the fallen angel to the Impala, setting him gently into the passenger seat before rounding the car to slide in next to him.
"Drink this and try to get some rest." Dean ordered, gruffer than intended as he handed Castiel a bottle of water, watching for a moment as he quickly drank it down.
"Thank you." Castiel said, turning to rest against the cold glass of the window. God, he looked more miserable and hurt than Dean had ever witnessed.
The silence in the car was heavy and uncomfortable during the long drive back, so Dean turned on the stereo quietly, finding Led Zeppelin playing again; not that he minded. In the next couple of minutes, Dean found Castiel to be shifting uncomfortably beside him, lifting and resting his head multiple times in an effort to find comfort against the hard glass.
"Cas, it'll be more comfortable if you stretch out more." Dean commented quietly to his scrunched up form against the door.
Castiel looked up, eyes flicking down to the expanse of seat that was available to him before nodding silently, turning to lay on his side and rest his head on Dean's thigh, innocent in the action.
Dean hadn't been paying attention after his small piece of advice, but at a sudden weight on his leg, he looked down to see Castiel looking comfortable resting against him, eyes shutting against the small tears that slipped through. The older hunter opened his mouth to correct Cas, but at the sight of his crying, his stress, his anguish, Dean silently turned back to the road, driving gently as the soft lyrics of "All of my Love" hummed through the car, lulling a tired Castiel to a tortured sleep.
"All of my love, all of my love,
All of my love to you"
At the lyrics, Dean chanced a look down at Castiel, finding him half asleep, tears drying on his worn face. There it was again, the longing... But this time, Dean found it to be mixed with something else, something stronger, something he couldn't quite place.
