"I've fallen from grace, took a blow to my face. I've loved and I've lost . . . It's ok to be afraid, but it will never be the same."
-Explosions by Ellie Goulding

The rain was a relentless force that came down in bucketfuls. Umbrella's decorated the small space, making the clearing seem somewhat smaller. Only a few people gathered, but then again, only a few were left. Maybe there were many more gathered there in spirit, but only four stood around the fresh grave.

Sam was standing next to Dean, propping him up. If Dean had gotten his own way, he would be back home, drowning all of feeling in a bottle of whisky, until he was comfortably numb. But Sam had pulled him out of bed, and dragged his sorry ass down to the clearing. Kevin stood on the other side of Dean, his hand on his shoulder for support.

The fourth and final person was somewhat unwelcome, yet there Crowley stood, slightly apart from the other three.

That was it. The only four people left alive, who had been lucky enough to know Castiel. Sam didn't say anything, but he knew who else would have been here. Bobby, Jo, Ellen, Meg, Chuck, maybe even Gabriel.

When no-one said anything, Sam moved forward, letting Dean lean against Kevin. "Cas, no one thought it would end like this." He paused. "Actually, scratch that, we all knew it would end like this. We all knew that you would die sacrificing yourself. That's just what you do … did." Sam corrected himself quickly. "You clean up or messes, and we clean up yours. That's just the way it works."

Before Sam could say anymore, Dean said the first word he said since Castiel died. "Leave."

All three heads turned to Dean, who was making his way over to the unmarked headstone. His movements were jerky and uncoordinated, like he had forgotten how to walk. "Leave." He repeated, his voice thick.

Sam stepped forward, trying to steady him. "Dean, are you sure? I don't think it's a good idea for you to-"

"I said leave!" Dean yelled, sinking to his knees on the wet ground. He was losing it.

Sam took a step back. He had never seen Dean so open and vulnerable. Sure, when Cas had died, Dean shattered, but his anger and rage had fueled him. Now, that anger was gone, and Dean was running on empty. He couldn't hold it together. All Sam could see was his brother falling apart.

"Ok Dean, ok."

Sam and Kevin walked away, until Dean and Crowley were alone in the clearing. Crowley took a few steps toward the grave and touched a hand to the headstone, a silent tribute, before disappearing.

Dean was alone, sitting in the pouring rain which chilled him to his core. Maybe he would be lucky enough to die out here, next to Castiel.

"FUCK!" He screamed, his voice filled with raw pain. "Cas you stupid son of a bitch!" He punched the headstone, and felt white hot pain bloom behind his knuckles. But he could handle it. Dean was no stranger to pain. It didn't seem to matter much anymore anyway.

"God damn it you fucking idiot! You fucking selfish bastard!" He punched the rock again, and his skin tore. Warm blood seeped over his chilled fingers. "What am I supposed to do now? You promised Cas, you fucking promised!" Dean slammed his fists against the ground, his anger seeping out of him slowly, like the blood down his fingers. He curled up into a ball on the wet ground, the rain pelting against a freckled cheek.

"Do you remember that Cas? Do you remember? Do you remember …" His voice trailed off and faded until he was left shaking silently. Memories assaulted him as he lay there, the memory of Castiel dying in his arms still strong.

After the angels fell, Cas found his way back to Sam and Dean. They had a month. One whole month, free from any worries. Maybe a small hunt every so often, but really they just spent their time adjusting. It was a huge luxury to indulge in normalcy for a few days. Dean took it upon himself to teach Castiel all of the basics about being human, and for once, everything felt fucking easy.

Then, one night, Castiel was gone. Dean woke up to find the other side of his bed empty. Castiel had left all of his possessions behind, along with a short note to Dean.

'Dean, I'm sorry. I know I promised to stay, but the longer I do, the more I put you and Sam at risk. The angels will find me eventually, and they won't show any mercy. They'd kill you Dean, and I can't let that happen. So I've decided to end it. Don't come looking for me, please. I'm so sorry. I love you.
Cas."

Dean had never moved faster in his life. Of course, Castiel's warning about trying not to find him was futile. Dean had found the first psychic he could to find him. That was the easy part though. The hard part was getting there before Castiel did anything stupid. He called Sam, to let him know where he was, and where he was going. The phone call had felt somewhat like an unofficial goodbye. Clearly, what Castiel was planning to do was dangerous, and if Dean couldn't stop him, he would see it through to the end.

In the end, Dean couldn't decide what was worse. Arriving too late, or arriving just in time.

Dean found Castiel on his knees, looking like he was trying to apologize profoundly to a dark haired woman holding an angel sword. There was a murderous glint in her eyes, hurt and anger mixed together to create an overwhelmingly dangerous emotion.

Dean jumped out of the car, barely stopping to pull on the emergency brake.

"CAS!" He yelled, sprinting towards him. Castiel's eyes connected with Dean's, and shock replaced the sadness in his eyes.

The woman turned briefly to see Dean running towards her. With a feral sounding growl, she turned back to Castiel. "Don't hurt him." Castiel said quickly, his own safety the lowest priority. The woman grinned sadistically, and thrust the sword deep into Castiel's stomach.

"NO!" Dean screamed as he reached Castiel, immediately dropping to his knees and pulling Castiel towards him, who's life was bleeding out onto the concrete. Dean was no doctor, but he had seen sword wounds before, and he knew this was bad. The sword was lodged deep in his abdomen. He was beyond all medical help. But that didn't stop Dean from praying.

He looked up at the woman standing before him. All of the rage was gone from her face, and she seemed almost calm. Dean wanted nothing more than to reach up and wrap his hands around her throat. But that wouldn't help Castiel.

"Kill me." He begged, his eyes pleading. He didn't want to have to face what would come after today. He wanted to cut off the darkness before it started. "Please." His voice came out ragged, and it was only then that he realized how much he was falling apart at that moment. "If you know any mercy, kill me."

The woman shook her head. "Justice is done, the traitor will die." She looked like she almost pitied him. "I did what had to be done." Anger flashed over her face again, and Dean could tell that she was thinking back to a time when she had wings and power.

Dean glanced back down at Castiel, who was gasping shallow breaths. Dean felt like someone had reached into his chest, grabbed his heart, and twisted hard. The ache was unimaginable. Cas was dying right there, in his arms.

The woman sighed and walked away. Dean almost chased after her, almost took the sword lodged in Castiel's stomach and stabbed her in the neck. But he restrained himself. Cas needed him now.

"Hey buddy, it's gonna be ok. Stay with me Cas, stay with me." Dean spoke quietly and gently, his voice betraying nothing of the rage that was coiling it's way around him.

Castiel looked up at him, his bright blue eyes wide. He was scared. His whole body shook quietly as his body started to give up. "Dean." He managed, his voice rasping.

Dean lifted Castiel till his head and shoulders rested on his lap. He cupped Castiel's face in his hands, his touch gentle. "I'm here. Hold on Cas, please hold on. Please, you promised, you promised me." Dean could feel tears coming to his eyes, but he swallowed them down.

Castiel coughed, and his whole body shuddered violently. He wasn't going to last much longer. "I'm sorry Dean." He said quietly.

Dean shook his head. "No, no don't talk like that."

Cas looked up at him, his face innocent and eyes trained on Dean's face, like her was memorizing every last part of him, so he could take the memory with him. "Dean. I'm going to die, aren't I?" He asked, so quietly it was almost inaudible. His gaze was so filled with trust and love, Dean could barely bring himself to lie to him.

"You'll be fine." Dean finally choked out, feeling a piece of him die inside. 'You're lying, you're lying to him, and he's dying'. The voice inside his head threatened to tip him over the edge, send him into an emotion wreck. But he held it together,

Castiel shuddered again. "It's cold Dean." He said, his voice trailing off, his eyes going glassy. He was dying.

Dean's body consolved as he held back a sob. "God damn it Cas." He whispered.

Castiel lifted his hand up weakly to brush against Dean's cheek. "You can't save everyone." He murmured.

Dean leant down until his forehead touched Castiel's. He buried his lips in Castiel's dark hair. "I don't want to save everyone, I just want to save you." He admitted, his words lost in Castiel's hair.

Castiel smiled gently. "You did save me." He coughed again, and his eyes went wide. His breathing was now uneven, and everytime he stopped, Dean would kiss his forehead, willing him to stay alive, praying for Castiel to live.

"Please Cas, please!" His voice was broken, and came out in small sobs. Dean couldn't talk, he could barely breathe. He felt like someone was crushing the air out of his lungs. It was like he was the one dying.

"Let go Dean." Castiel whispered. His electric blue eyes flashed, and then went dull. He let out his final breath, and Dean felt him go limp in his arms.

Dean didn't know how long he sat there, holding Castiel's lifeless body against his own, letting all his walls crash down. He had always been the strong hunter, the one to never let feelings get in the way of anything. He wasn't romantic, or someone who cried easily. He was Dean Winchester, and right now, he was falling apart. He would never see Castiel's eyes flash with understanding when Dean taught him some stupid, mundane, normal thing about being human. He would never see him grin when Dean told him some cheesy joke, or when he was just so completely, utterly happy. He would never feel the pressure of Castiel's lips on his again, never here him laugh, never wake up next to him, never, never, never …

Cas was gone.

Eventually Dean felt Sam's hand on his shoulder, and felt Castiel being taken away from him, probably by Kevin. He wanted to object, he wanted to have Castiel back. He wanted to hold him. He wasn't ready to say goodbye. But as he felt something heavy draped across his shoulders, Castiel's familiar scent enveloped him. Dean held the trenchcoat tight around him as Sam picked him up, like a child, and laid him down in the backseat of the impala.

As he lay there, Dean heard Kevin and Sam talking about him in hushed voices, thinking he was too far gone to hear.

"He's ruined Sam."

Sam's silence was louder than Kevin's words, louder than the pounding in Dean's head, louder than the roar of the car as they drove away. Finally, just as Dean gave way to the blackness that had been threatening to swallow him ever since Castiel died.

"I know."