Epilogue

Dean never intended to fall in love.

The idea of dating Castiel had been something simple at first, just a small town fling to occupy his time before he was forced to move yet again. Then, a little over a month into things, it had slammed him; this funny feeling in his stomach that had him grinning and cringing all at once. He never truly understood it – didn't want to understand it – until the night he almost shot his brother, and walked out of the hospital room to see Castiel standing alongside his small family, a mess of tears and trembling worry.

It was love – he loved Castiel Novak, as much as he hated it.

So when his father approached him in early March and told him they'd be moving come April and that Dean had to get rid of Castiel, Dean handled the situation the only way he knew how; he started to back away. He did his damndest to sever whatever weird ass bond the two shared, silently loathing the way Castiel's eyes would glitter curiously every time Dean flinched away from his touch and he would tilt his head in that unconscious way that he did when he was thinking hard about something.

When his dad offered to let Dean go on a hunt, Dean jumped at the chance to get away and slowly cut off all communication with Castiel. It was for the better, he told himself; he would be keeping Castiel safe from the world of demons and monsters, as well as making the future heartbreak less severe.

When he got home, Sam almost killed him.

The younger boy was like an avenging spirit, slamming Dean to the wall and holding him by his throat; Dean didn't even bother to struggle.

"Don't do this to him, Dean." He growled, and Dean had had to look away from the pleading depths of his brothers eyes. "Don't do this to yourself."

"I have to, Sam." He had tricked himself into believing it, but Sam had known better.

"You're old enough to live on your own, Dean! Dammit, you finally found something good and you're going to throw it away just because Dad said to?"

Dean wasn't sure what he could have said, but at that exact moment Castiel had come bursting in the door with all the excitement of a toddler on Christmas morning and Sam had dropped the subject, letting Dean go but promising never to forgive him as Dean led Castiel out the door.

Little did he know that Dean would never forgive himself.

He'd intended to make the break up as painful as possible- to make Castiel hate him; he had succeeded, he was sure of it. Castiel wouldn't even look at him as they sped down the highway, and for that Dean was glad; the last thing he wanted was for Castiel to realize his voice was only gruff because he was crying.

And then it had happened; it was all sounds, lights, and a startled scream to his left that had Dean calling out for Castiel before things went dark.

He didn't remember much after that; next he knew he was staring up at Sam's panicked face.

"Dean?" His little brother questioned and Dean winced at the almost bone-breaking grip Sam had on his arm.

"Sammy, yr'hurting m' arm," He slurred, closing his eyes; waves of pain were washing over him in time with his heartbeat and his head was throbbing worse than it did after a nasty night of liquor and pool.

"Shit, you scared me," Sam breathed out, his voice relieved, and Dean opened his eyes just in time to watch relief morph into a class five bitch face, Sam squeezing his arm hard and vicious before releasing it. "I don't care about your arm, you dick! I hope they run out of pain meds, and you have to suffer through this without them!"

"What're you t'lkin bout?" Dean struggled to sit up, wincing as he felt a heavy weight on his leg; this was the second time this year that this leg had been in a cast.

"Cas, you idiot! Cas!" Sam shouted, and Dean flinched away from the noise before remembering where he was and what was going on.

Cas. Castiel. The wreck. The breakup.

Fuck.

"'S he okay?" Dean demanded, rotating his jaw in attempt to clear his speech, wincing as it gave a painful pop. He looked to Sam for an answer but the younger boy was only staring at him with a look of utter disgust.

"Why'd you let him drive, Dean?" Sam demanded.

"Sammy, is he okay?" Dean demanded again, a monitor somewhere else in the room picking up his heightened heart rate as his mind ran through all the possible outcomes of the situation.

"You broke his heart and then made him drive you home," Sam continued unhindered. "You know, that's a new level of douchey, even for you, and-"

"Dammit, Sam! Tell me if he's okay!" Dean bellowed, cutting his sibling off; he felt bad enough as it was, and he would let Sam lecture him later- he just needed to know Castiel was alright. Sam stared at him with an expression of mixed shock and anger and Dean sagged under the weight of the gaze, hating himself for letting his brother and the man he loved down as he looked at his lap.

"Please, Sam… Just… Tell me he's okay," He whispered.

"He's in a coma, Dean."

And with that, Sam left.

Dean sat in stunned silence, almost positive the entirety of the hospital could hear him as he slowly fell apart.

He's in a coma.

He's. In. A. Coma.

Swallowing hard, Dean slowly swung his legs over the edge of the bed and winced as pain traveled up his spine like the white hot lick of flames. Tearing the wires and patches off his skin, he managed to maneuver himself onto the crutches and out of the room before the nurses could come running. Each movement hurt, but Dean didn't care; he was staring at Sam where his younger brother was standing outside a room at the end of the hall, his expression somber. He didn't notice Dean until his brother was practically on top of him.

"Why are you out of bed, Dean?" Sam demanded, hands fluttering uselessly as his brother cringed in pain and leaned heavily against the wall for support.

"Where's Cas?" Dean panted, sweat heavy on his brow as he tried to hide as much of the pain from his baby brother as he could.

"Dean, you need to lay down," Sam tried to reason but Dean shook his head- he wouldn't have it.

"Sam, I need to see him. Please." He gruffed, eyes boring holes into Sam. Sam searched his face for a moment, his expression guarded, before he nodded and crossed the hall to a small room and disappeared inside. Dean leaned heavily against the wall, vision swimming unhealthily as Sam stepped back outside and motioned him forward.

Dean hopped forward on the crutches, accepting Sam's help into the room, and nearly choked at the scene before him. Anna was perched carefully on the edge of the bed, smoothing her hand repetitively over Castiel's arm and Gabriel stood stoically near the window, his expression distant. And there… There was Castiel.

The boy would have looked peaceful, if it weren't for the wires and tubes and the white-cotton bandage encircling his head and trapping his black locks beneath them. Dean's heart sunk to the bottom of his chest as Sam helped him to a chair near Cas' bedside and lowered him into it. Neither Anna nor Gabriel looked up or acknowledged Dean's presence but Dean didn't need them to.

He stared at Castiel's sleeping face, wondering what was going on behind the boys eyelids; wondering if all the terrible things he'd said before the accident were the last things he'd ever get the chance to say.

Taking Castiel's limp hand in his own, he held the younger boys fingers against his lips and, for the first time in his life, Dean prayed.

xXxXxXx

That's it, guys. It's done; Winchester Winter is now complete.

Thank you so much to everyone who has supported this and just... Ugh! I love you all. This fiction is my baby... 46,000 words and it's finally done.

Sorry to leave you all hanging- the sequel (yet to be named) will be out very soon!

-CCW