Hello again. I can't seem to stop writing this one today so have another chapter. I hope you like it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.
2 minutes 5 seconds to go before the end and Dean had finished his last beer. Holding the bottle's neck between his thumb and finger he let it drop down by the side of his car. He watched it fall unbroken onto the grass. A small smile crossed his lips as he thought about what he would say to him doing that. He would tell him off for littering and make him get off the car and pick it up. But he wasn't here any more, he wasn't even in his family plot at the churchyard in the town. That was just an empty coffin with a cold stone above. No, he was in the deepest part of the ocean no doubt eaten away by all the fishes by now. Argh what morbid thoughts for his last few minutes, but he couldn't stop it, and he couldn't stop the memory rise of the last time he had visited that grave. It had been six months after his death, six long months alone and Jess had suggested it. Said it might be good for him to go say goodbye. He didn't tell her that if he wanted to say goodbye then he would go to the ocean to do it. Instead he had agreed and as such he, Sam and Jess had piled in his car for a journey back to the only home the Winchesters had ever truly known.
The six month anniversary of Castiel Novak's disappearance...
Dean knelt down by the headstone with the stupidly wrapped flowers in his hand. He had no idea why he had brought them expect that Jess had suggested it. It was easier not to argue with his brothers girlfriend so he didn't. If he was to bring something that really meant anything to him, he would have brought a bottle beer and they could have shared a drink. Not that he was here of course. And so he lay the flowers down on the grave next to a bunch of roses that Dean just knew he wouldn't have liked. He briefly wondered who else had brought him flowers, not that he truly cared. He knelt there for a while before he realised that there was no point in being here. With that he stood and turned to look round the graveyard. It was strange, but he had happy memories of this place, chasing him and Sam through the graves playing tag. In fact looking out into the town he realised he had happy memories in almost every place here. Happy memories of him.
Moving out of the graveyard he turned to the high street. He saw, in the window of the coffee shop, Sam and Jess sitting holding hands, completely absorbed in each other. He didn't need to see that right now. No, he wanted to remember happier times. With that he got into his car and drove at a cruising speed up the street. And almost as if on autopilot he found himself driving up the dirt track to the Singer residence, which he guessed now strictly speaking was the Winchester one as Bobby had left it to him and Sam in his will. Pulling up outside the house Dean got out and looked over the old and tired house. It had fallen into disrepair from a lack of love and care. The wood around the windows was rotting and tiles had fallen from the roof so he knew that it would leak inside. But to Dean, it was home. It always had been. With a nostalgic smile he moved round the house until he came upon the continuation of the dirt track. He knew that it didn't really lead anywhere in most peoples mind, just to a field. But to Dean it was the best place in the world. And it was his destination. Walking along the track he came to the field and looked out over the grass that had grown so high since last he was here. Pushing he way through, he found a space in the middle where he could lie down and stare at the sky. A place where he could pretend the real world didn't exist. A place he could pretend that it was night and he was with him looking up at the stars as they had spent so many nights doing throughout there life. To many nights to count, just the two of them, watching the progress of other suns across the galaxy, the times where they had shared their secrets and their dreams.
Lying there now with his eyes closed Dean could even remember a night when they must have been about 15 years old. They had lain in the grass just as he was now, watching the stars, when he suddenly felt a hand in his, looking down he had seen that he had reached over and was clasping his hand in his. Was that the time he had tried to show Dean how he felt? Was that the moment that Dean had screwed everything up? Because he remembered rather than pulling him to him as he would now if he could go back in time, he had pulled his hand away and pretended it never happened. He never tried anything like that again. But Dean should have known, that should have told him how he felt. And remembering that time he remembered that the contact of his hand had sent a fluttering through Dean's heart, that was why he had pulled away, he had been scared of what it had made him feel. Had he loved him since then, then? Had he always loved him but refused to see the truth?
With those questions Dean opened his eyes to see clouds in the sky rather than stars. He didn't want to get up. He didn't want to leave this place. It was then he came to a decision. The contract on his apartment was up this month, and while he knew Gabriel had been paying his share of the rent and would continue to do so as long as Dean wanted to live there, he didn't want that any more. The memories in California were to painful, and Sam had Jess, they seemed happy so his brother would be fine. So maybe, he, Dean should return here. He could do up the house, make it so they could live in it once more, and while he did he could work out what he was going to do with the rest of his life without him by his side.
And he had, he had fixed the house and worked out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life with him. He wanted it to end.