Dean sits at Castiel's bedside, holding Cas' hand in his. He hasn't budged from his spot in the last sixteen hours since Cas was admitted. Sam is reading on the window sill across the room.
Cas looks up at Dean, eyes wide and reassuring, and Dean tries to smile at him the best he can, but he knows Castiel can see right through him.
Dean's scared, leg nervously bouncing up and down. Castiel has been human now for three years, ever since he sacrificed his Grace and almost his life to save Dean and Sam from the other angels. He's had the occasional pain, generally in the abdomen, but he has never once before blacked out suddenly like this.
Dean hears footsteps approaching the room, and quickly looks up at the doctor.
Dr. Tellson's face is grim, and she asks Dean to step out of the room to speak with him. Sam nods at him, standing up to take Dean's seat next to Cas as Dean leaves the room, a knot in his stomach.
When she tells Dean the news, he yells at her, and kicks over a chair.
He manages to make a crack in the wall before Sam rushes to his side to calm him down.
Six months suddenly makes his one year deal he made all those years ago seem like a lifetime.
- x - x - x -
Cas is getting weaker over time. He's lost a significant amount of weight, vomits up almost anything he eats. His eyes always seem to look sallow, but mood-wise he is still himself.
Dean and Sam are cracking open the books, but Cas wants none of that. He wants to spend the last few months he has with his family as much as he can.
He is resigned to his fate.
They are both treating him like glass, asking him frequently if he would like anything, anything at all, keeping watch over him. Dean is always touching him, holding him, and every night they make love soft and slow, as if it will be their last.
"S'not fair," Dean whispers to him one night after, wrapping his arms around Cas tightly. "You gave up being an angel so you could…?"
"Die?" Castiel knows Dean can't say it, wants to pretend that if he doesn't say it then maybe it won't come true. "I've lived for millenia, Dean."
"Not as a human. Not like this."
And he hears what Dean isn't saying. Not like this, not when they've both found happiness to have it all torn away.
A lump forms in his throat, his voice soft. "To everything there is a season."
Dean gives a bitter chuckle. "Yeah, I heard the song."
Dean presses a gentle kiss to his forehead, and though they are both worn out from the lovemaking, neither one sleeps the rest of the night.
- x - x - x -
Dean grimaces as Cas pops his sixth Vicodin within an hour.
It's just one horrible future, replaced with another.
- x - x - x -
Castiel and Sam both knew it would happen eventually.
It's 2:35am when Castiel wakes to the sound of the Impala leaving from the driveway. He bolts out of bed, ignoring the sharp pain in his abdomen and runs into the hallway. Sam is already there, pulling on a shirt, hair a mess.
They go down the stairs, heading for the little car Bobby had given Sam as a birthday present two years ago. They stay a distance away, knowing Dean won't see them following. They've done this countless times already, all of them false alarms.
This time, it isn't.
At the sight of the demon, Castiel is already out of the car, halfway to them, running.
Castiel still has enough training from his years as a soldier of the Lord, and before either the demon or Dean know what is happening, the knife is already deep within the demon and she collapses to the ground.
"Cas—"
Castiel tackles Dean to the ground, blindly throwing weak yet angry punches at Dean's face.
"You would throw it all away? Everything? If you go to Hell, what was it all for, Dean? What would all of this have been for?"
He keeps shouting, keeps punching, until something catches his fist. An arm wraps around his waist and lifts him, backward and away from Dean and he hears Sam repeating "stop it, Cas!" in his ear.
Dean looks ashamed, guilty. Castiel isn't sure whether Dean feels guilty over trying to make the deal or getting caught.
He doesn't try again.
- x - x - x -
Four months after the diagnosis, and the doctors ask them if Cas would like a room at a hospice. He's so weak, pale, yellow, and in constant pain that all they can do for him at this point is make him comfortable.
Castiel tells them that he would rather die in his home, with his family.
That night is the first time he and Dean don't have sex, but rather Dean just holds him tightly in bed.
Castiel tells Dean and Sam that he would like to be cremated and buried in a cemetery. He has done much research on the internet, and he thinks it would be the best method.
Dean gets angry and storms out of the room.
Sam takes Castiel to look at plots two days later.
- x - x - x -
Castiel has more bad days than good days now.
Today, when Sam finds him collapsed in the bathroom and dials 911, it's one of the worst yet.
- x - x - x -
Sam is bringing Dean and Castiel greasy food. Living in his last few days, Castiel has adopted a hedonistic lifestyle. He craves french fries and fat and he knows that Dean hasn't had a meal that isn't hospital food for days.
Dean is laying on the bed beside him, pressing into his side with an arm wrapped around Castiel. Castiel's daytime nurse, Daniel, walks in and checks Castiel's IV.
"Dean?" Castiel asks him, and Dean is quick to ask him what he needs.
"I…I'm thirsty. Could you perhaps get me a can of soda from the machine?"
Dean nods, pressing a kiss to the top of Cas' head before moving. He hates leaving Cas alone, but he can't deny anything that Cas asks him.
As soon as Dean leaves the room, Cas turns toward the young nurse.
"Which one are you?"
The nurse smiles. "I'm surprised you recognized me through your humanity, Castiel. To answer your question, I am Raphael."
Castiel tenses.
"Now, now, if I wished to kill you, I would have done so long ago," Raphael pauses. "I have a proposition for you, Castiel."
"No."
"The angels are in disarray. There is a large division. The other side is willing to negotiate, under the condition you are restored your full Grace. They seem to be in agreement with your actions to prevent the Apocalypse." He looks at Castiel. "You will be immortal again."
Castiel's breath hitches, and it's too good to be true. "What's the catch?"
Raphael smiles, and Castiel does not like it. "You will not be permitted to return to walk the Earth or to contact the Winchesters. And they cannot know of your return to Heaven."
"No." Cas repeats, more firmly. He will not be toyed with like this, won't let Sam and Dean be toyed with, not by Raphael.
"You say that," Raphael says, "but I wonder…how would Dean feel if he knew there was a way for you to live? I'm sure he wouldn't mind never seeing you again if it meant you being safe."
Castiel opens his mouth to speak, but he hears Dean and Sam's voices approach the room. When he looks back, Raphael is gone.
Sam greets him with a hug, Dean with a kiss on the forehead. Both look tired, look older than their true age. Sam pulls up a chair beside the bed, and Dean resumes his place next to Cas on the bed, wrapping an arm around him as the three eat their fast food.
Castiel does not bring up the confrontation with Raphael.
- x - x - x -
That night, Dean is still laying next to him, their bodies tangled as he holds Castiel close. Dean is sound asleep, but Castiel looks out the window, at the sky.
He places a light kiss on Dean's lips, and Dean clutches him tighter in his sleep.
Castiel rests his head on Dean's chest, listening to the heart beat as he closes his eyes.
- x - x - x -
Castiel dies on a Thursday.-
x - x - x -
After the small service and Cas' ashes are lowered into the ground, Sam places his hand on Dean's shoulder comfortingly before heading toward the Impala to give Dean his privacy.
Dean lays his hand on top of the fresh mound of dirt, wishing he could touch Cas one more time.
"It's not fair, Cas," he says. "You were always there to protect me, always. You pulled me out of Hell, saved me and Sammy's asses a bunch of times, and I couldn't even—"
He breaks off, a lump in his throat. "Never thought it'd end this way, Cas. You've got stabbed, thrown out a window, hell, even when you started hunting you took a lot of crap."
He stops, his hand gently caressing the loose dirt. "I wish I could go back to those first years. Wish I didn't waste all that time. Wish I could've touched you more, kissed you more, told you I-told you I loved you more. I'm sorry I took you for granted like that."
He stays like that for awhile, replaying the last six years with Cas. Everything they'd been through together.
He stays there for another hour, silent, before he presses a kiss to his fingers and touches them against the headstone. He doesn't want to leave, but he knows he has to.
He stands and turns to head back to the Impala when he hears a familiar rustle behind him. He turns sharply, but no one is there.
Dean.
It's a faint voice, whispered in the wind, low. On the ground, Dean swears he can see a faint shadow of wings.
"Cas…?" Dean calls out, softly.
His only response is a light breeze caressing his face gently.