Wow. I know it's been forever since I last posted but I've been at Uni and the stress was unreal! So sorry! I'm trying very hard to keep updated with this story, I promise! Thankyou for the support!
The grass was flowing around Dean's ankles. A sea of faded green and sun toned yellow strands pulling him along. Above him the sky was a soft haven of glowing white with little particles of floating light dancing in the breeze. Warily he lifted his hand up into the air and allowed one of the orbs to bounce off his palm. It felt like the soft head of a dandelion. Then an echoey voice murmured in the distance.
He looked up.
Everything was so hazy and shadows moved in front of his eyes, but over the hills of grass he could see a blurred figure.
Cautiously Dean stepped forward. The grass seemed to swallow his steps. Sucking him to the spot. He slowly stepped again and again, though each time he tried to lift his feet off the ground an invisible weight clawed to hold him down.
Gradually the figure started getting closer. With every tiresome step Dean began to see the man in focus. The man in the trench coat. Cas.
It suddenly seemed like no force could pull Dean down. His legs were rapid gunfire as he raced through the overwhelming fatigue.
"Dean!" Cas shouted at him, waving his arms frantically in the air. The wind was tossing his dark hair around and flicking it over his eyes. Those cobalt eyes. Dean stared at them as he battled on.
"I'm coming, Cas! Hold on!"
The wind started surging, knocking Dean from side to side. He stumbled and steadied himself in the long grass but as he tried to pull himself up the earth tugged him down.
Over the tips of the grass Dean could see Cas approaching only a few metres away. But then the grass started growing. It's long strands extending up and blocking his vision. The brightness almost immediately vanished, along with Cas's beautiful face.
"Dean!" He cried out. Dean clenched his fists around the tufts of grass and pulled, clawing them apart. He had to see Cas.
"Dean!" More grass. More shadows.
"DEAN!" Darkness.
"DEAN!"
He jolted up.
Sam was standing in front of his bed with a sad look in his eyes and Jess hovered over his shoulder.
"You were having a nightmare, Dean," Sam explained softly, patting Dean's arm like he was a weak child, "We are here now. Are you okay?"
Dean rubbed the back of his hand over his tired eyes and felt dampness on his fingers. He had been crying. Again.
For a moment he stared at his hands and the tears trickling down through the creases in his palms. It didn't matter how many times he washed them; all he saw was blood. Cas's blood. No amount of scrubbing could clean away that image.
Jess bent down beside Dean's bedside, "Do you want something to eat?"
Dean shook his head.
"You can talk to us. You do know that, don't you?"
Dean nodded.
He hadn't spoken much since the accident. It wasn't that he didn't want to; he knew that his brother would be worried by his silence. It was just that he didn't know what to say. What words would be enough to sum up how he felt? Sad? Angry? Alone.
Jess gave a meek smile, "We'll let you rest then. But maybe you could come through and watch an old film later? It might distract you."
Dean nodded and Jess left the room. Sam started to follow her but stopped in the doorway.
"He knew you loved him, Dean. That's what matters. He knew."
Once Sam left the room was silent. Dean waited till he heard the patter of feet disappear down the hall, then he pulled the duvet up to his chin and closed his eyes.
It was a grey day. Black, daunting clouds rolled in on the wind and the drizzles of rain quickly became a downpour. Dean had hoped it would be a sunny day. Cas deserved to be buried on a day as bright and warm as he was.
Dean was sitting at the window of Sam's apartment in his suit watching the sky when he heard the gentle tap of heels.
"We're going to leave soon," Said Jess.
Dean sunk back in his chair and Jess crouched down beside him so that they were eye to eye.
"Listen to me, if this is too hard we don't have to go. If you can't do it, we all understand."
Tears started to stream down Dean's cheeks and into his stubble. He hadn't shaved in days.
"I have to be there for him," he mumbled.
"Okay. Do you need a moment?"
Dean rubbed away his tears and straightened in his seat, "No, we can't be late. You know how he got whenever I was late."
Jess tried to smile and a little laugh forced out her mouth. She cupped Dean's face with her hands.
"Well then, better not keep him waiting."
Sam drove the Impala. For the first time in a long time Dean sat in the back. He stared out the window and didn't say a word the whole journey. Rain drops snaked through his vision. Then they pulled up outside the church and for Dean it felt like the time stopped.
He watched glassy-eyed as streams of people in black with big umbrellas walked up through the church gardens and through a big set of doors. His heart bashed in his chest. Every breath felt like sandpaper grinding against his throat. He heard Sam say something about parking but the words just muffled in his ears. Then someone opened his door and pulled him out by the arm.
He shuffled with the rest of the crowds with his head swaying from side to side. Sam was at his left holding an umbrella over him and Jess was tucked at his right rubbing his back. Water dripped all around him. Puddles splashed at his feet. It felt like the earth was weeping with him.
They dipped under the church doors and Dean felt his throat tighten instantly. It was quiet. People were slipping into the pews. He recognised a few faces, like that girl from the coffee shop, but Cas seemed to know everyone so the seats were filling up fast.
Jess looped her arm through Dean's and they walked down a red carpet toward the front of the church. A giant stain glass window was centred ahead of them. Though the sky had seemed dark, light was cast through the glass and vibrant yellow and green rays were splaying on the floor. One beam of heavenly white shone perfectly onto the casket that lay beneath the window. Cas.
Dean's legs trembled. Sam quickly urged them all to sit down but Dean still felt a shaking in his knees. His hands felt like they were being stung by a thousand bees.
Once everyone was seated the reverend stood up at the front of the church on a podium. The moment he opened his mouth Dean zoned out. His eyes focused on the casket and nothing else. He stood when he congregation stood, he bowed his head when they bowed theirs, but his eyes stayed fixed on Cas.
Slowly the church began to fade away and in his mind he saw brightness. Sunshine. He watched as the light danced across Cas's casket, smothering the wood in a warmth that melted into Dean's mind. When he resurfaced from his thoughts the reverend was wrapping up the service.
His stomach lurched.
He had to say something. His trembling hand broke out into the air.
"I-I'd like to say something," he said to the reverend. The reverend nodded so Dean slipped out of his pew and walked to the podium. Staring out at all those faces, people who loved Cas, made his throat go dry.
"Hi. Um, well, thankyou all for coming. If I'm being honest I'm not sure what to say. I don't know what will be enough. For those of you who don't know, I'm Dean. I was Castiel's..Um... Well... Cas was my person..."
Sam and Jess smiled at him, urging him to continue. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. In his mind he pictured Cas. Then he took a breath.
"When we met I was different. I didn't believe in love. But Cas, my Cas, he had a way about him, a sparkle, and he made me feel things I never imagined I could feel. He filled a void I never even knew I had. If he cared about you, then when you were with him you were the centre of his world. In his eyes no one would matter but you. It was like he blurred everyone else out. And it was the best feeling ever," Dean choked quietly, "I was lucky enough to be the centre of Cas's world for a little while, and he will forever be the centre of mine."
He opened his eyes and everyone was watching him. A few people were dabbing their tears away with tissues. Jess silently cried into Sam's shoulder.
Dean glanced back at the casket, pressed his fingers to his quivering lips and planted them down on the wood of the coffin. My forever love.
The rest of the day past in a blur. People came back to Sam's apartment for food and drink but Dean ignored them all. He slipped quietly to his room, locked the door and crawled into bed.
Weeks past. Eventually Dean moved back into his apartment. But it was cold and scarily empty without Cas. He mourned the light that Cas had brought with him, the light that no longer shone within the apartment walls.
Dean found that his presumptions of mourning weren't at all how he imagined. It wasn't romantic. It wasn't a Shakespearean tragedy; all poignant anecdotes and collapsing at Cas's grave, professing undying love. It was slow and numbing and unfortunately it didn't conclude when the curtains closed.
Most mornings it was the silence that really reminded him of the reality of the whole ordeal. No more laughter. No more bickering over who finished the milk. No more Cas perched on the countertop reading out loud from an overly descriptive novel, using words Dean had no comprehension of, purposely to piss him off. So now the quiet was too much.
This particular morning Dean was standing, swaying slightly in the dusty haze of sunrise, watching his eggs burn in the pan and not caring at all; because what were some burnt eggs when he had no one to share them with. Even if he wanted to move the pan he couldn't. His hands suddenly wouldn't move from his sides, like someone had cut the chord connecting his brain to his arms.
Tears slipped down his cheeks and his nose dripped. He was so tired of feeling this way. When would it all just end? There was no escaping it. Cas was everywhere all around him, and no where to be seen, all at once.
Once the tears had stopped he tossed the burnt eggs in the bin and went back to bed with an aching stomach. He clutched his pillow as tight as he could. There was nothing in his life except this constant cycle of pain. Every morning reliving it. He dreamt of a day with no more tears, no more pain. If he could block it out he could survive, but he knew blocking out the hurt meant erasing Cas from his mind. And he couldn't do that. He could never do that. The pain was worth the memories. So he lay in the dark till the sleep took him and his dreams returned him to his love.
Three months after the accident, Dean was sat on his bed in the midday sunshine. Jess was there with Sam and they were holding boxes in their arms.
"It might help, Dean," Sam kept saying.
Jess dumped her box on the floor and bounced up next to Dean, "You don't have to do it if you're not ready. It's a big step."
Sam shook his head, "No. You do need to do this, Dean. For you and for him. He'd never want you to be like this."
Dean stared as Sam opened the wardrobe.
"Sam, wait a sec. It's a sensitive issue," Jess warned.
"No, Jess. I can't sit back anymore," he grabbed Dean to his feet, "You need to start living again! This isn't living. Now, tell me what clothes were Cas's, you can help box them up. The shelter will appreciate them all."
Dean stepped back as Jess pushed Sam away from the wardrobe and the pair of them started arguing. He turned and looked at Cas's clothes, all neatly arranged in rows and categorised sections. Typical Cas. He reached for a shirt and pulled it from the hanger, drawing it up to his nostrils. It smelt dusty and aged and not at all like Cas. Before he realised what he was doing, he had fistfuls of clothes in his hands and was dumping them in the boxes.
Jess watched in disbelief, "Dean, are you sure?"
He nodded, "They don't even smell like him anymore. They're just clothes now..."
Once all the clothes were boxed up and packed in the car Sam came across and smoothed his hand over Dean's shoulder, "It's been long enough. You can let go."
Dean felt his heart quivering, his voice cracking with pain, "I can't."
"Why?"
"I don't know how to live anymore.."
"I'll help you. You have me and Jess," Sam encouraged.
"I miss him. All the time. With every breath. You don't understand... I hope you never will," Dean wearily said, wracked with exhaustion.
"I just want my brother back," Sam said quietly.
"I'll try," he said. The brothers embraced and Jess gave Dean a peck on the cheek and then the couple left.
He handed in his notice for the apartment a week later.
Jess stopped by that afternoon, as she did often now, and they sat side by side on the sofas with coffee.
"It's the right thing to do. Fresh start, and all that," Dean reassured.
She sipped from her mug, "As long as that's what you want, Dean. Whatever will make you happy."
"He made me happy. He's the reason I got us this place. It doesn't feel right living here without him beside me."
Jess acknowledged his words with a nod.
"I would have given him anything he wanted. Would have loved him till he was grey, do you know that?" Dean murmured, running his hand down the back of his head.
Jess squeezed his knee, "I know you would have. He was special."
Dean nodded, head heavy, "He just had a way about him, a twinkle, you know what I mean? I hate that he's gone, but I'm so glad I got him. Even if it was just for a little while."
"We were all lucky," She replied.
Dean was washing the mugs after Jess had gone and stuck a takeaway meal in the microwave. When Cas was alive they'd cooked and dined with fresh food but that kind of thing had never been of any importance to Dean. He'd only complied for Cas and he regretted how quick it had taken him to slip back into old habits.
The meal tasted like shit. He threw half of it away and sat with a bottle of whisky and classic rock.
Everyone had expected Dean to fall off the bandwagon once Cas die, so he took care to only indulge himself when he was alone. He gulped down the brown liquor and lay on the floor, watching the ceiling lights till the stars came out.
When half of the bottle had been drunk there was a knock at the door. Dean grunted and ignored the sound. The knocks persisted, loud and sharp against the wood. He pulled himself to his feet and staggered across the hall.
"Who's it?" He slurred.
"Dean. It's me."
He flung open the door immediately and stared in disbelief. The bottle slipped from his fingers, smashed across the floor. His eyes welled with tears. This was impossible. This had to be a dream. He was stood in a crisp blue suit with a beige trench coat and smiling that charming smile. His face glowing with light.
Dean's hands trembled as he reached for the man.
"Cas... Is it really you?"
To be continued...