Author's Notes: We slowly but surely approach the end. This is the tenth chapter!

Special Thanks: Thank you infinitely to Dupont et Dupont for her corrections and advices, and her joyfullness. I give you ice cream for the trouble.

And a big thank you to Deidato for translation!

Happy reading!

Falling

It was strange how it all had begun with a cry and how, some way, everything was over the same way. A cry. It was as if there was some sort of perverse fate that was pulling the strings of life and who enjoyed to close loops, to give a certain poetry, a certain pattern, to the vagaries of life.

A simple house of cards, this is what had been the last few months. Nothing but cards stacked on each other only waiting for the lightest of breezes to collapse. And Castiel was the king.

The king of fools.

How had he not see it all coming? How had he dared to believe that his behavior wouldn't have any impact?

"I don't understand Castiel." Hester's voice crackled through the phone. "Yet it is Saturday. Weren't you with her as you usually are? Why was she alone? Yet it's the visiting day, you know that she shouldn't be left on her own those days. She isn't surrounded by doctors and nurses. Where were you?"

Castiel ran a hand over his face. His knuckles pressed his skin, painfully rubbing his temple.

"I wasn't far, I… I was just nearby."

"You were late?"

Castiel dropped his head back and sank a little more on the bench. His feet were twisting in all directions, writhing, fussing.

"No, I was just talking to a friend, Dean."

"Castiel, I don't understand why you seek to befriend these people. Who is this Dean? He's new, isn't he? You never told me about him."

These people.

Castiel dropped his hands on his thighs with a sigh. It was useless to debate for the umpteenth time with his aunt.

"He is… I… This is not what's important, Hester. I was calling just to keep you informed of Anna's health."

"I know that Castiel, but I think she wouldn't have tried to take her own life if you had been with her as you should have been. Do you understand? You shouldn't have been anywhere else at this time."

"I know Hester." Castiel whispered. "I know."

"I don't think you really understand yet." She said coldly.

Castiel didn't reply.

"OK" Hester lost patience. "Where is she now?"

"The nurses are taking care of her to calm her down. They will call me when I can go to see her. I'm waiting in the garden."

"Do I have to come?" She asked with a sigh.

"As you wish, Hester. This is your niece. It's up to you if you want to come to see her or not."

"It's not that I don't want to Castiel and you perfectly know it. We don't all have a post with low responsability like you. We can't all be free the weekend."

"I understand. Could you inform the others, please? I take care of the rest."

After this painful phone conversation, Castiel didn't want to face the criticism of the others. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew he should have been with Anna and not with Dean.

Dean.

"Hm, if necessary. All right. Keep me informed, Castiel. And take care of your cousin, will you? Thank you."

A second later, the dull tone told Castiel that his aunt had hung up. It didn't even surprise him. His family had never really been there to Anna, even when her two parents had been killed before the eyes of his cousin by a deviant psychopath who claimed to love her. They maybe had come to the funeral but they hadn't bothered to come to the trial. Only Gabriel had come with him. Their only help had been the money they gave for Anna to be commited after her fifth outbreak. The one that had almost cost her her life.

Castiel watched his hands. They were shaking. He couldn't cry. He had to be strong. Strong for Anna. And if the only thing he could do now was waiting then Castiel would wait. Never mind that the minutes had a taste of eternity, never mind if they were weaving together in a fatal slowness.

So, on a bench in the garden of the Broughton Hospital, Castiel was waiting.

The nurses came to get him an hour later. Castiel followed them silently. He listened them talk. Anna had had an outbreak for no reason. She had screamed, again and again, and had thrown herself against the walls of her room. She hadn't managed to harm herself much. The drugs had weakened her too much. She was better now.

When he passed before Dean's room, Castiel saw him in the doorway. Dean took a step toward him, all his anxiety and anguish tattooed on his face, rooted in his eyes. Of course he was worried. Of course. As if his own condition wasn't complicated enough like this.

Dean couldn't torment himself like that for him. It wouldn't help him, on the contrary. Dean had to worry about his own health, his own remission. Castiel was a burden.

So, Castiel made "no" with the head. Dean stopped short. He looked at Castiel pass before him.

Castiel lowered his eyes.

And he didn't understand why people say that one "fell" in love. They were all wrong. To Castiel, it was quite the opposite. His encounter with Dean had been a breath of pur air, a burst, a flight. His laugh and eyes and freckles. His kindness and courage and humility. Having the chance to know him. To love him, from afar. All this, all of this had given him wings and had carried him away, away, away.

To love Dean Winchester had sent him to the seventh heaven, as they said.

And now... And now everything was crumbling around him, collapsing, breaking down in an endless fall.

The nurses opened Anna's room and it was with a lump of regret and shame stuck in the throat that Castiel took the first step. The nurses closed the door behind him, leaving him alone with his cousin.

Castiel didn't know if he could make it. If he wasn't going to lose his mind, too.

He was tired. So tired.

Anna was quietly lying on her bed, smiling, as if nothing had happened. Only, around her wrists, two solid beige straps were firmly attached. Castiel's gaze fixed upon these handcuffs that imprisoned her in bed. For months he hadn't seen them and Castiel had finally persuaded himself that Anna was done with them, with that violence that drove her without reason.

Castiel got closer to his cousin and put his hand on her creamy cheek before letting it wander in her flaming hair. He leaned slightly and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering long on the scrapes and scratches she had inflicted to herself.

"I'm here now, Anna. I'm here."

Everything was falling apart around Castiel. Even he felt himself stagger, topple, fall.

And it was all his fault.

So that was what it felt when you flew too close from the sun and you burnt your wings.

The following week, Castiel arrived at the beginning of visiting hours and left only when they ended. When he passed before Dean's room, Castiel hesitated for a few seconds.

But he knew that if he entered, he couldn't restrain the tears that were eager to spill down his cheeks. Dean would see him sad, would see him collapse. Fallen. And Dean needed happiness in his life. Needed laughter. Needed Sam, Jessica, Mary. Needed Jo, Ellen, Bobby. Not a disillusioned Castiel. So, he went on his way, with a heavy heart.

The following week, he didn't hesitate and went straight into Anna's room. Castiel wondered when he would manage to do it without wanting to vomit.

And a month passed.

Now Castiel hated the walls of the hospital. They were thin. Way too thin. They let the laughs pass. They made him hear what he didn't deserve. He heard his name. He heard their voices.

Castiel occasionally ran into Sam and Jessica. They exchanged a few words quickly. Castiel asked if he was okay, if he was getting better. He didn't try to find out if he talked about him, if he said that he missed Castiel.

"He continues." Sam would often answer him. "He's heading in the right direction."

Sam never asked him if he wanted to come with them, he wanted to see him. Jessica threw him sad looks. And Castiel, he wanted to tell them he missed him, that he wanted to see him, talk to him, touch him. Be there with him.

But he said nothing. He kept quiet. He kept it all for himself, well hidden next to his heart.

When Castiel ran into Jo, she didn't hold back asking when he would finally come to see him again.

"I don't know, Jo. I… I don't know. Soon."

Castiel knew he would have to do it one day or another. He would have to explain to him, tell him why he kept away from him. Why his presence wasn't good for him.

"Yeah... I don't know why everyone keeps saying that it's better this way. I think it sucks. Anyway. One day it'll be too late, but have it your way. It's not like we can really force you anyway."

And Jo left without one last look, ready to join his room. Castiel looked at her walk before him, her blonde hair billowing with every step. Yes, soon Castiel would go to see him.

Only he wasn't quite ready yet.

There was something strange in the following week when Castiel walked past his room. With time, he had gotten accustomed to not look at it anymore but he couldn't help feeling a strange sensation when his feet skirted the door.

It was closed. Not ajar as usual but closed. His room was never closed normally. Except when he had been isolated for his new treatment.

What had happened? Was he okay?

This issue didn't leave Castiel for the whole day. He still stayed with Anna, watching her stare at the TV screen without a word. His cousin was getting better. It was as if there had never been an outbreak. As if all this had never happened. As if the last few months simply hadn't exist.

Castiel couldn't help looking at his watch regularly and, a few minutes before the end of visiting hours, he kissed his cousin on the cheek, put on his coat and went out.

Then, without knocking, Castiel went into the next room.

It was empty. Completely empty. There weren't even sheets on the bed anymore, not even a quilt or pillows. Just a beige mattress. On the dresser, the frames were gone and the pile of books had been removed.

There was nothing left. Nothing at all.

Castiel didn't think a second longer and rushed to the reception before the secretaries finish their day. He rushed down the hall, rushed down the stairs and across the lobby in an instant.

"Dean." Castiel suddenly blurted out when he arrived at the counter. "Dean Winchester."

Surprised, the secretary started. She put a hand on her heart and her gray eyes fluttered slightly. She was staring at Castiel as if he came from another planet or another astral plane. The young woman seemed trying to catch her breath.

"Tell me where is Dean Winchester."

The face of the secretary immediately changed. She pursed her lips and replied dryly:

"Hello to you too. What can I help you with?"

"As I said, I'm looking for Dean Winchester, he is no longer in his room, I don't understand, I…"

"Are you a family member? I'm afraid to not being able to communicate personal information if this isn't the case."

"I'm just… A friend."

"I cannot help you then."

No, that wasn't possible. Castiel had to know if Dean was all right. Panic ran throughout the body of Castiel, who couldn't help shaking.

"Sorry." She added, without really bothering to pretend to be.

"But…"

Castiel ran a hand over his face and swallowed painfully.

"Can I at least know if he's okay? Don't necessarily tell me where he was taken, I just want to make sure that, that he's…"

The secretary – Julie according to her name tag – sighed and declared:

"I guess I can at least do that. Wait a moment."

"Thank you." Castiel replied immediatly. "Thank you."

The woman shrugged before getting up and heading to the gray filing cabinets that stood behind her desk.

"Dean Winchester, is that it?"

"Yes."

Castiel's fingers mechanically played with themselves, sweaty and anxious. A metallic scraping resonated in the hall when the secretary opened the drawer with the letter "W". Castiel gulped and waited. Julie's hands rummaged through the files, skimming them one by one until she brought out a thick folder. Green. Of course. The eyes of the secretary browsed the folder.

"Oh" She whispered.

Then she looked up, a different look on her face. Castiel felt like his heart was going to stop.

"You're Castiel?" She asked.

"Uh" Castiel answered before clearing his throat. "Yes, that's me."

"It's you." She repeated. "I wondered if you were going to come. Wait for me a few seconds here."

Then, without any more explanation, the young woman went to the storehouse. Castiel frowned. What was going on?

Seconds later, Julie stood again before him. An orchid and a letter in the hands.

"Mr. Winchester has left this last week before leaving. He left the institution. He asked if it was possible to give you this flower and this note. I tried to take care of it but I don't really have a green thumb. I did what I could. You'll probably take care of it better than me."

Castiel stared at her wordlessly and took the flower the young woman was handing him.

The orchid was blue.

Carried by three long, straight stems, its sepals wore different shades, from cyan to cobalt. Gray strokes stippled the petals, scattering their strips. Knited to the column of the flower, the pistils bent majestically.

It was the most beautiful flower that Castiel had ever seen in his life.

When the nurse gave him the letter written by Dean, Castiel sniffed rudely.

"Thank you." He managed to enunciate. "Thank you very much."

Julie gave him a smile before focusing on her computer screen.

Mechanical, instinctive movements, led Castiel outside the hospital. Dean was gone. Dean was fine. Everything was fine.

Without really knowing how he could have walked head straight, orchid in one hand, letter in the other, Castiel finally decided to open the envelope.

Hey, Cas.

I have to say that I don't really know where to start. Besides, I had the good sense to not specify that I wanted more sheets to write this letter to you. I only have this measly piece of paper. This single try.

And even if I don't know how to start this letter, if I'm not even sure you'll know that it exists or that you'll want to read it… Guess I'd be better off not screwing up, right?

So better cut to the chase. Cas. Thank you. Thank you for everything.

I don't know if you realize the importance that you've had during the last months. Without you, I probably wouldn't even be able to think properly, to write this letter and just get out of here.

You, you came to see me in that room while you didn't know me. You gave me flowers. Fucking flowers. No one ever gave me flowers in my life and I didn't think to be the kind of guy to even want to receive some. And yet. I noticed and I liked them.

Then you entered and you talked to me. About your bees. About your job. About your childhood stories with Gabriel and Anna. About your desire to find your father. About your daily life, your habits. About these neighbors you don't know enough. About this house too cold to your liking. You told me about religion, angels and creation stories.

And how long has it been? One year since I'm here? All I know is, since you literally walked into my life, everything sped up. You taught me to love life again, to recover a liking for colors, burgers, pleasure. You made me want to laugh and laugh and laugh.

Without you, I think I'd still be in this damn hospital room to continue to hurt the ones I love. Without you, I

I don't really know where I was getting at. Damn, this letter is grotty. It's just that, you know, I have so much to tell you and explain to you and make you understand and my thoughts fail to be consistent, to structure everything, to find the right words. It's just too difficult.

Sorry Cas, you deserve better than that. You deserve a beautiful writing, beautiful figures of speech or something. Sorry.

Just know that you laid your hand on me and you raised me from this hell I had built. You saved me.

So thank you, Cas. Thank you for everything.

Dean.

After having read and reread the words Dean had written to him, Castiel looked up. In front of him, the sun was falling asleep and gradually sinking into the horizon. A few clouds dotted the sky around here and there, crumbling and collapsing in long white and gray streaks.

And it's only when the ground painfully collided with his knees that Castiel realized it wasn't the world around him that was crumbling. It would still be running, everything would be fine, Dean would be fine since Dean was gone. It was just him, simply him.

It was Castiel who had just fallen.

To be continued

Author's notes: I hope you don't hate me too much and you enjoyed this chapter. It wasn't the easiest to write, I admit. But I like it anyway, in its own way. Thank you for reading and please tell me what you thought!

See you soon,

Ellen.