Destiel Oneshots❤️❤️❤️

Goodbye

The sound of a blade passing through flesh was something I'd become accustomed to, but nothing could prepare me for the scene I had just witnessed. The aforementioned blade slide out of the wound, and I watched the life fade out my best friends eyes. The sound of his limp body hitting the floor caught the attention of his younger brother, and the look on his face and the scream he let out for his remaining family was something that still haunts me to this day. Crowley was gone before my blade reached his throat, another thing to add to my list of things that I've screwed up. What could have happened had the situation turned out differently? If I'd shown up five minutes earlier, would Dean still be alive?

The funeral was short, with the only attendants being Sam and I. When Sam had gone to bed, I had burned the body. I knew Sam would do whatever it took to get his brother back, and I had to make sure it was impossible. I watched the flames devour my former best friend in a beautiful and destructive display of red and orange. Sam was very angry with me the next day when I explained I couldn't bring his brother back, that I was cut off from heaven. He'd thrown things and screamed until his voice was hoarse. He ended up sobbing in the corner of the broken room. I'd tried to comfort him, though I wasn't entirely sure how. He'd of course refused my sympathy, telling me he didn't need it, that he'd only feel at rest once Crowley was dead and he got his brother back. I hadn't the heart to tell him I'd burned the body and there was no coming back, like I'd originally planned. Now Dean's fate had become my dirty little secret.

Crowley was very good at hiding himself when he didn't want to be found. And I was dead set on finding him before Sam did. After the death of his brother, Sam started drifting farther and farther onto a much darker path, torturing and murdering for information on the King of Hell and how to get Dean back. I needed to stop the chaos before anyone else was hurt. I needed everything to end.

Everyday that Dean no longer prayed to me was extremely painful. I had no idea I could feel such grief, and I never experienced it as strongly as I did then. I truly loved that man, maybe in a way more powerful than the simple 'profound bond' we shared. That night next to the Impala was all I could think about after his death. The night he told me that he loved me, and he kissed me against his baby, and the way his eyes filled with tears when I left abruptly. I felt conflicted then, but it was all clear now. But it was too late. I appeared that day to tell Dean I felt the same, and I was greeted with the laughing King stabbing him in the chest.

Thinking about the physical pain I felt without him, I tried to imagine what Sam was going through. It must've been so much worse, watching someone you almost trusted murdering your older brother, the man you looked up to your whole life just gone in an instant. That's why, for the first time in six months, I visited him. The bags under his eyes proved that he didn't sleep much these days. He brought me into the bunker and sat me down at the table that was much too large for one person. His empty chair was another painful reminder that Dean was gone.

"Have you found anything on Crowley?" He spat out the name of the red-eyed demon as if it were poison on his tongue. I simply shook my head and his shoulders slumped and his eyes closed in defeat. He sat there for a time of which I didn't count, because nobody could count the mere seconds of suffering this man had endured.

"Six months. That bastard took Dean away from me six months ago. Do you miss him Cas?"

"Of course I do," I replied. I missed Dean so much it hurt my chest, something I'd never felt before. The pain of the loss of someone you truly love.

"It doesn't seem like you do, Cas," Sam mumbled, opening his eyes and smirking at me. Panic began to flutter inside of me like a million frantic butterflies. I had never seen this look on the younger Winchesters face before. It was a look of such pure sadness an burning anger, an anger of which you'd only develop when you've lost everyone and everything you loved, and the person responsible for your pain was living freely just out of your reach.

"I'm pretty sure I miss him, Sam," I told him nervously, avoiding his penetrating gaze by staring down at my hands.

"Do you want him back?" Where was he going with this?

"Of course I do."

"Then why'd you burn his body?" Sam raised an eyebrow as if challenging me to answer. How did he know I burned the body?

"Sam, I-"

"Shut up!" Sam stood up quickly, revealing the angel blade in his hands. He pointed the sharp end in my direction, "You know what Cas? I think you're glad Dean's gone."

"I'll bet you're glad you don't have to bend to his every will, like a good little angel."

"Sam, listen to yourself! This isn't you!"

"Oh, I'm me alright. I'm Sam Winchester, the man who's going to kill you."

"I'm telling the truth! Sam, please listen to me, I-"

"He needed a body for when I got him back!" Sam's voice bellowed across the bunker, causing me to shrink back.

"You wouldn't be able to get him back, Sam! He was in heaven, a demon couldn't get him out, and I couldn't let you sell your soul for nothing!"

That's when he came at me with the knife, something the old Sam a Winchester never would have done. But that Sam was gone now, his body only an empty shell of the man he'd once been. I had no choice.

Burying the second Winchester was almost as hard as the first. I buried him next to his brothers empty grave, which had recently been dug up. I guess that was how Sam found out I'd cremated him. At least he finally got the rest he deserved after all of his suffering.

I don't do much these days, mainly hide away from my siblings and dream about what could've happened had I killed Crowley when I had the chance all those years ago. Would Dean still be alive? If I hadn't burned the body, would Sam still be alive? Would I still have to kill him?

The angel blade I kept in my coat was now in my hands. I turned it over in my palms and examined the sharpness of the blade, the way it glinted off the fading sunlight outside the cold and empty bunker, now devoid of life. It's been almost twenty years, and the pain was still fresh. I lost the man I loved most, and then I murdered his brother. Death was comforting concept now, I'd been alive far longer than anything on this earth, and without the human I'd come to love I felt that I didn't want to live anymore.

"Don't bring me back this time," I whispered to the skies, smiling for the first time in twenty years as I plunged the blade into my stomach.

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WOOOOOOOOOOO MY LONGEST ONE YET! That probably doesn't say much but still, YEAH! I'm sorry if this one was really sad, but I felt I needed it to be. Hopefully I can get some longer ones out to you guys soon, but sometimes it's just hard.....Anywho! Thanks to anyone who actually reads these, you're my fav.