Dean didn't know how long he'd sat there on the faded red couch, feet propped up on the oak coffee table and a battered, well worn scrapbook sat in his lap innocently. Swallowing thickly, the green eyed male opened it gingerly, hands trembling slightly as he resisted the urge to cry. Various thick photo albums laid scattered around him, some open to certain pages, some closed and bound tightly in an attempt to shut old memories back into their cage in the corner of his mind - painful memories. Licking his lips, he gingerly opened the large book, shaky fingers gently caressing the first faded photo. It was one of those pictures that couples got at the fair, all smiles and bright laughs in a series of small photo clips on a film.
It was a picture of good memories, of happy times, of laughs, and smiles, and sweet cotton candy and honey drizzled funnel cake flavored kisses on the top of the ferris wheel as they looked at the small town of Lawrence... it was memories of Cas.
Memories of Castiel before the tumor, before he slowly forgot everything until he didn't remember his own name, before his Angel was in pain so much pain it hurt to shift, before he had to make the decision to stop the life support so his blue-eyed Angel wouldn't suffer anymore. It was memories of sweet innocent smiles and hot steamy summer nights in the back of the impala and randomly being woken at midnight to run to the store to get a jar of honey for a sick boyfriend, memories of stray kittens and crystal blue eyes and pouting lips pleading and whining until he could keep the kittens until they were older. It was memories of the past - of Cas.
One well calloused finger gingerly ran across the photo of a dimpled cheek, his mind caught up in memories and his heart twisting in sorrow. The small wet drop on the back of his hand brought Dean out of his trance as he carefully moved the book away so he didn't smudge the precious treasures taped into it carefully, each photo labeled by neat soft faded cursive, the writer long gone. Dean let out a soft heart-wrenching, sobbing laugh as he reached up to wipe his eyes, salty tears slipping down tan, freckled cheeks from moss green eyes; the reality crashing down around him. Castiel was gone, his Angel had faded, his grace had disappeared with his last fading breath, his heart had shattered. He'd been left in half, wandering aimlessly about as the other half of his soul had fled the cruel pain-filled world into Heaven at only a tender twenty-five years old. His source of happiness, of smiles, and laughs, and overwhelming, heart - melting love... was gone forever.