"I love you."
Castiel stirred at the words, slowly coming to and sitting up in the bed. "Dean?" he asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "What's-" he broke off, coughing, blood trickling down his chin.
"Hey, Cas," Dean said, walking toward him. He reached out and wiped away the blood on Castiel's face with a handkerchief, his face bearing no emotion. "How are you feeling?"
"Horrible. I feel horrible. I just want to sleep and I want to…"
"Cas, it's okay. It's all going to be okay, you understand?"
"Don't lie to me, Dean."
"It's not going to be okay, Castiel. I know that. You know that. But can't we just pretend for a little bit that everything will be okay? Please?"
"No. You can't pretend everything is fine because it's not." He took in a shaky breath, his blue eyes piercing against the paleness of his skin. "Dean…" he trailed off, his eyes drifting closed.
"No, no, you're okay. Cas, please. Wake up. You can't do this to me now."
Castiel took a deep breath, falling back into sleep. Dean sighed in relief, calming down when he realized he didn't have to say goodbye yet.
"Je suis désolé, Monsieur Winchester. Il n'y a rien que Je peux faire. Je vous recommande de dire vos adieux maintenant."
"Merci. Combien de temps faut-il?"
"Quelques heures. Au revoir."
"Au revoir." Dean closed the door after the doctor, sinking to the floor behind it. He took a few breaths to settle himself before going to Castiel. He stood up slowly, walking to the bedroom. For a moment, Dean gazed at Castiel, a light sheen of sweat on his face. His breath hitched and he coughed, his body convulsing with each one. Quickly, Dean rushed to his side, grabbing a handkerchief to wipe away the blood spotting the corners of Castiel's mouth.
"Cas, how are you feeling?" he put his hand on Castiel's forehead, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Castiel stirred under Dean's touch, smiling when he saw him. "Hello, Dean."
"Cas… I-" Dean stopped, looking away from Castiel. "I'm so sorry."
Castiel propped himself on his elbows, confused. "What do you mean? I'm feeling much better. I'll be alright. You'll see."
"Are you sure, Castiel?"
"Yes. What makes you think otherwise?"
Dean shook his head. "Nothing." He pressed his lips in a tight line, looking toward the ceiling.
"There's something you're not telling me, Dean." Castiel pushed himself higher, leaning against the headboard of the bed. "What did the doctor say?"
"He told me… Cas, he told me to say my final goodbye today." Dean stared straight at Castiel, his face betraying no emotion.
"I promise, I'm-" Violent coughs consumed Castiel and he reached for the handkerchief in Dean's hands, bringing it up to his mouth to catch the blood. Dean looked on helplessly, his hands balling into fists. When Castiel finally gasped for air, Dean sat beside him, tears filling his eyes.
"Castiel, I didn't want this to be over. I never wanted you to die. I guess I was just under the stupid impression that everything would be fine and that this disease would go away and you'd be fine. But you're not, and I'm not ready to accept that."
"Now you get to read my book," Castiel said, a wan smile on his face. "I think you'll quite enjoy it. At least… what I have of it. I love you, Dean."
Dean opened his mouth to respond, but thought better of it, reaching to Castiel and kissing him. "I love you," he breathed when the kiss broke, keeping a hand on Castiel's cheek. Dean took a deep breath, steadying himself, the taste of blood on his lips.
"Stay with me," Castiel said, his breath catching in his chest.
"I will, Castiel. I will." Dean kissed his forehead, closing his eyes. After a moment, he kissed Castiel again, putting as much of his goodbye into his touches as he could, not wanting to say the words out loud.
Castiel fell into another coughing fit, his breathing slowing rapidly. His eyes locked onto Dean's, watching as tears fell from his eyes.
Castiel's eyes closed and the grip he had on Dean's hand loosened.
"I love you," he murmured, taking his last breath.
"Goodbye, Cas," Dean said, standing up. He brought a hand to his mouth, wiping away the bit of Castiel's blood that was there.
After the funeral, Dean walked into the apartment, hesitating to sit at the table where all of Castiel's work was.
"It's what he would have wanted," Dean said to himself, taking a seat and grabbing the folder where Castiel had kept his writing. He opened it and slid the papers out, finally getting to see what Castiel had hidden from him. Dean smiled as he began reading. It was like Castiel had never left.