Moving On (Destiel)

67: Epilogue

"The Point Is That They Were Here At All And You Got To Know Them. When They're Gone, It Will Hurt, But That Hurt Will Remind You Of How Much You Loved Them."

POV: Cas

Nobody could fault me for not having tried. Admittedly, I could have tried harder, yes, but it wasn't like I didn't try at all. I knew it would be pointless from the beginning, I didn't believe in it, but I did listen when Gabriel looked me in the eye and said: "Castiel. I know it's hard for you right now, but it's not going to be easier. Not in the foreseeable future. You're going to have and try to do something now, now that it's still possible. I'm gonna help you. We're gonna get through this together."

I nodded and said nothing else. He was right, of course. But I didn't want to have to do this. I don't think I was ready to do it. That's why it took another four months before I not just agreed to all that Gabriel suggested, but walked up to him myself to say, yes, it was time. We were going to move.

It was fucking hard, but I was fucking trying.

I looked out of the window during the drive, seeing the houses and villages blur together and eventually fade, replaced by endless fields I once upon a time had seen as a sign of eternity. The eternity of love, how much there was unused, how much there was to still discover, to walk at. It was so much. But it had never been enough.

Leaving the town was not the problem at all. I would try and shut my secrets and worries and memories away in one of those small houses of the neighborhood that appeared so friendly and peacefully, and then drive away, and never look back. Moving on, leave this dreadful place behind for good.

The actual process of leaving wasn't the problem, really not.

What would come back to bite me in the ass later, however, I knew to be that this town, and the people being in it, alive and dead, had left me with memories. Good memories, but bad ones too. Painful ones. Ones I sometimes wish I could forget. Ones that sometimes almost make me wish I never met him. Because in the end, the most beautiful of memories will hurt the most, until there is nothing but pain.

"The point is that he was here at all and I got to know him. Now that he's- now that he's gone, it hurts, but that hurt reminds me of how much I loved him." I tell that to the face in the mirror every day. I hope one day, I'll appreciate it. I hope one day, it'll hurt less.

As for now? It all hurts so bad, so deep, that I know, something inside of me was long broken, never to be fixed again. But I no longer have tears to cry; there is nothing inside of me that would find a need for it. I could never shake that emptiness, and I know now I would never be able to, either.

Just when I was at my happiest, the reason for my happiness had to be taken away, being replaced by that never ending void, never leaving me alone, because it was inside of me, and once something's part of you, it'll never fully leave you. Just like memories... you can avoid them, push them away, lock them in a corner of your mind, but in the end of the day, you still have them, they're part of you. Just like Dean is a part of me.

I could move around and away countless times all I want – but the pain would never leave me; it'd would stay, because wherever I moved, regardless of my surroundings, I would never move on. And with that I knew, things would never be better, or really just hurt less.

And why all of it? I still hadn't got an answer.