This is the first fanfic I ever wrote but for some reason I never posted it. It's just been sitting in my computer waiting patiently for me to remember it. Poor thing. ^_^
I found it just now and decided to share. So here it is. Hope you like it. =]
Set in season five, episode four, The End. Implied Cas/Dean, because I love them so much.
"Torture?" Past Dean asks disbelievingly.
Now Dean says nothing.
Past Dean stands, green eyes full of scorn and beauty, "Oh so we're…we're torturing again." he says dryly, "Oh that's, that's good," he states, voice derisive, "Classy."
Castiel looks up at Past Dean, the Dean he loved, and smiles involuntarily. He had missed Dean Winchester; the quips, the cockiness, the couldn't-give-a-damn attitude.
He remembers how it used to be, just the four of them against the world. A family. Castiel – Cas – felt like he belonged, like he was wanted. Yes, there was the apocalypse; there were angels and demons and monsters and witches to fight, but there was also fun. There were smiles and jokes, all few and far between but there nonetheless. There was Dean, never serious, always taking the piss out of something or other. There was friendship. Cold beer and warm pie.
Cas remembers a park bench, long ago. Children laughing, families playing, and Dean sat beside him. Thousands of lives had just been saved. Dean Winchester, full of caring and love and sharp comebacks. There was a darkness within him, true enough, but there was a light too, shining brightly from brown-green eyes, two beacons of hope.
Then Sam and Dean went their separate ways and Cas never really saw either of them again. Dean changed. Just a small amount every day but Cas saw it. He was a little emptier, a little colder.
Sam said yes to the Devil and the world started to die. Times grew dark and Dean along with it; all jokes gone. All work and no play.
But the breaking point was Bobby. Without Bobby, Dean got lost. He became someone else. Hollow. Filled with nothing but pain and anger and hate. Caring about nothing and nobody, least of all himself. And Cas realised he hadn't been a part of the family, not really. Dean had merely needed him, not cared for him, and now he was useless, worthless, not wanted or needed.
The combination of such realisations, the loss of Bobby, the loss of Dean, becoming human, being nothing, nobody, completely alone, it was all too much for Cas. Was this what he fell for? Was this what he gave everything for?
He turned to drink, then sex, then drugs, but nothing ever really made it better. He could see the way Dean looked at him. He used to be Castiel, angel of the Lord, a powerful being, a strong ally, a good friend. Now he is Cas the hippy, the addict, the drunk.
He misses Dean Winchester so much it would hurt if he wasn't so full of drugs. The absinthe probably helped too. He misses the way Dean made him smile, the way Dean used to look at him, the way he made Castiel, angel of the Lord, feel.
Dean Winchester. Renowned hunter. Strong ally. Best friend. The only friend Cas ever had – gone.
All this speeds through his drug-addled brain in just a glance. He turns back to Now Dean and is met with a steely, reprimanding glare.
"What?" Cas asks dryly, still smiling, "I like Past You."
He isn't needed, he isn't wanted, but God help him he cannot leave Dean. Like a dog willing to die protecting an owner that long ago lost interest in him – an owner that beats him and neglects him and ignores him – he will remain loyal until the end.