Two years.
Castiel spent two years in hell.
Two years of torturing. The angelic presence gathering the attention of all hell's residences. On a good day he'd fight a demon, maybe earning himself a good few battle scars. On the tough days, hell would play tricks on him. Every imaginary Dean was there to save him. sometimes the others would kill him, other days Dean would be telling him how much he hated Cas. He'd spit out sharp words that dug into Castiel's heart. Two years. Two years of praying that the Winchesters would save him, that the real Dean would save him. He lost his trench coat, his hair deciding to permanently unwind itself.
Two years of banging against red-hot-brick and screaming against cage doors. Hell was a place that tortured you mentally more than physically. However, the wardens did delight in ripping into skin often. It was a lonely fate, always on fire. He was sure he should've been dead, but in hell you can't die. You could have your heart ripped out and it would still beat. Castiel knew first hand of that. Two years.
Castiel had given up. His will to fight lost over his time in the cage. The blood-sticky, hot, rage filled pit. He pressed his bare and scarred back against the wall, sliding down miserably. "Dean..." Cas sighed, "Where are you?"
He turned to see his walls, just one after another. No way out. No where to go. Two years. "Where are you damn it!" He near screamed, burying his face in his arms as he drew up his knees. "Dean... " He could feel his eyes stinging, the tears threatening to fall. "D-Dean... Please..." one drop after another they fell, burning up against the hot floor. "Dean!" Castiel's voice was hoarse and desperate, "Dean! Dean! Dean!"
"I'm right here Cas."
The angel's head shot up, his expression morphing into a dull stare. "Hasn't hell grown tired of this? Sending me fake Dean after fake Dean..."
"I'm not a fake Cas."
"Of course you are." Castiel wiped his tears against the back of his arm before standing, "Dean is never coming for me."
"Cas?"
Castiel inched closer to the figure, reaching a hand out to touch him, not the least bit surprised when his fingers pushed right through. "Dean forgot about me by now. He-" unwillingly, Castiel's voice hitched, "He didn't- anyway he-" Castiel couldn't find the words he wanted.
Why was he trying to explain himself to this thing anyway? "Just go away."
"Cas-"
"Go!" Castiel screamed, launching himself at the figure with brutal force. "Leave me alone! Dean is never going to come!"
Never going to come for me...