The Red Spiral𖦹

𖦹24- east LA Haze dream𖦹

Sam, Dean, and Ezra kept on searching for Cas, but they could not find him. Even Meg was looking now. They were all really scared. They did not know what to do. It was not like they could track him this time, his phone was long gone.

Castiel was walking. He had a destination in mind, but at the same time not. He was thinking many thoughts, but at the same time not. He was feeling many emotions, but at the same time numb. 

There went the trenchcoated angel, still dressed in all white from the psych ward. The blue bracelet from Glenwood Springs and the faded yellow bracelet that said HIGH RISK Still on his thin, pale wrist.

He had tried to recover. He had tried so hard. The most weight that he gained was 10 lbs, but he lost it just as quickly. He kept on gaining the same 5 lbs that he was forced to. And he lost it again. He was tired. Especially tired of being told what to do. 

He found it ironic. Once he was heaven's best soldier. Listening to commands without a 2nd thought, healthy but coldhearted. He could not believe that he was like that once. 

All he brought with him was the lighter in his pocket. That was all that he needed. He was honestly surprised that he had not passed out from walking.

Eventually, he arrived at a field. It was the most beautiful piece of scenery that he had ever seen, excluding his personnel heaven. It had an old-fashioned farm windmill in the background. The sky was dark with storm clouds, but no rain came. Cas looked up at the sky. 

He thought about everything.

How his life was before he gotten sick. The dream that started it all. Whenever he never let poor Sam and Dean leave the bunker because he was power-hungry. Whenever he beat them up. The notches on his bed. The enemies. The bloody teeth. Glenwood Springs. The disturbing poems and things that he would say. The broken piano with the old cigarette butt. The not eating. The official diagnosis'. The red spiral that he painted twice by cutting his own arms. The eye in the center of it. The cemetery. The angels with empty eyes. The way that he rapidly lost weight. The IV. The tube. The malack box. Hollowed Creek. The intrusive thoughts that he would have about sticking a razor blade in his own eyeball. His bruised and bloodied legs with bandages. The bad dreams. Going back to the bunker and then attempting suicide. The blood pouring out of the eye. The chains. The stitches. The demons. The knife that lay atop the counter with blood everywhere. The people that he met at Hollowed Creek. The angel statue, Kaneda. The food poisoning. The lobotomy. The suspicious pills. The teeth removal. The ice box. The swollen gums. The countless times that Sam and Dean had to save him. The blood spatters in the sink. The bee plush. The painting of the sailboat above his bed at Glenwood Springs. Winter. The bees. Snow. The purging. The restricting. His old notebook where he usually written about how he was feeling every day but on the last day that he ever written in it, just scribbled it out and written it doesn't matter anymore. The blood on his hands. And of course, Xerces.

Pushing those darker thoughts aside, he lied on the ground on his back and looked up at the sky. He hazily thought of happier times. Meg being kind to him and giving him the bee plush. The way that Sam always told him to keep on fighting. Dean's dry but still funny humor. And sweet sweet Ezra, Cas knew that he would go to heaven for sure, despite the sins that he committed by stealing. He had too much heart for his own good, just like Cas. Maybe that was why they gotten along so well. A small smile spread on his face. And with the thoughts of the people that he loved in his head, he flicked on the lighter. {It's time...} It whispered kindly. Cas flicked it off. ''I love you,'' Cas said plainly, speaking to nobody, but really, he was speaking to everybody that he ever loved and cared about. The 3 light-filled dots that looked like mini suns appeared in the sky, and he felt his body rise up, clutching the lighter against his chest. He was lifted towards the sky, to those 3 dots. And then, it was all over. The 3 dots flickered off like a TV Would. His trenchcoat remained on the ground. Eventually, Sam, Dean, Ezra, and Meg would find it. They would cry, not knowing that he did not kill himself.

But, time went on, as time does. Ezra trained and became a hunter. Once a week, he would go to the spot where they found Castiel's trenchcoat and talk to him. He didn't know it, but Cas was listening, always. They kept his trench coat hidden away, for whenever he came back to them. Sam and Dean kept on hunting like usual. Meg went back to doing...whatever it was that demons did.

And Cas sent them signs all the time that he was there. Just like he did whenever he was in the ice box. 

For some reason, Sam and Dean just had a weird feeling that he was not dead. It just did not add up.

But they carried on, just like they always did. Sometimes it was sad whenever they randomly grievd about him or they seen little things that reminded them of him, like bees in a garden or an angel blade. They tried not to blame themselves, they did everything that they could, after all.

Even Meg found herself missing the angel, strangely enough. His room at the bunker was just left the way that it was, the bee plush sitting on his bed.

They all missed him deeply, but he was at peace now, free from mental illnesses.