Destiel Random One-Shots

Goodbye

Time is a trap. People always say “Oh we have time to do that later” but they forget that each second we waste we are closer to death, closer to be forgotten.

If Cas’ lifetime was an ocean, then a human lifetime would have the size of a drop. Dean was only a drop between millions upon millions of drops in Cas’ life. But if you asked him “Tell me about your life”, that lonely sweet angel would only remember of his life with Dean.

For a lot of time, everyday was a blessing. Death was knocking on the door and each breath could be their last. They were so deep in their battle that they didn’t have time to think about anything else: only about saving the world.

Back in the day, Cas was only an angel that rescued Dean from hell. They were war companions, colleagues on the fight against the Evil. At first, the idea of losing Dean was bad and hurtful but he’d live with that; Dean was God’s chosen and he needed to do his job as much as Castiel, but as they got closer all Castiel could think of was about saving Dean - even if that meant dying or turn his back to everything else. Dean was all that mattered.  

To Dean… Well… He didn’t even know how he even got to that age. He always thought he would go on his thirties. I mean, definitely die! Not “Give me a second, I’ll just go there die for a bit and then come back.” He always thought he’d go down swinging, so he never really cared of the idea of a life or how the others would react to his death, he just wanted to go first than his brother because he wouldn’t be able to live alone and Sammy always wanted to have a normal life after hunting.

But Castiel knew. Castiel knew exactly when Dean would go and how he’d go. His destiny may have been rewritten thousands of times, but each time that he dodged death, a new deadline would come. After the Winchesters took care of Heaven and Hell Castiel left, even though he wanted to stay, but Earth (the human earth) was no place for an angel anymore. So he just poofed away, not saying a word to the human he always protected – to him it would hurt less if they didn’t say goodbye.

Silently he kept watching him, like an angel on his shoulder, and besides being forbidden on interfering on humans’ lives again, he couldn’t keep himself from saving Dean in advance each time he was walking into a trap or from some freaky monsters that were too much for him to handle on his own. The hunter didn’t know of this, of course, to him Castiel was dead or worse.

Although there’s one death that he can’t run away from, no matter how Castiel wanted he couldn’t save Dean from that one. No one could.

And that was the day Dean would give his final breath. That was the day his eyes would shine for the last time before they’d fall into emptiness. The man who saved the world without a second thought was about to leave that world and no one would ever remember him again. No one would know his name or face; he’d just be another shadow mixed into the darkness.

--

Dean coughed, shifting on his hospital bed. He was sick and tired of being there but his heart condition wasn’t the best. If Sam was still alive he’d blame all the burgers Dean ate during his youth, to which Dean would certainly reply a simple “Shut up.”

He was in the hospital after a heart attack a week before. He didn’t even know how he managed to get to the hospital, except that a nice woman helped him on the street when it happened.

Dean sighed. He was lonely. After Sam died, three years before, of a gunshot during a burglary, that Dean was barely living. He didn’t hunt anymore – he wasn’t physically prepared for something like that anymore – and he really didn’t know what to do besides that so he kept on beers, burgers and crappy TV until the day his heart almost gave up.