Dean died in the arms of Castiel.
Castiel could have saved him- could have saved him if he was an angel. Dean was writhing in pain, a hunk of timber embedded in his heart, or what Cas believed where it was. He was too selfish to touch the foreign assailant in the mans chest, he knew that dean was dying and any other movement might rush the process of the inevitable, so Cas cradled him, a loss for words in his dry mouth.
Dean clutched at Cas' overcoat, him mouth moving, inexplicably forming words that Castiel couldn't hear through the pounding of new-found adrenaline through his ears and blood. Tears welled from dean's eyelids as he himself realized this was not another situation he could wriggle himself out of.
"Cas- I... I- Castiel-" Dean gasped out, tears finding their way to the side of the hunters cheek and slipping unnoticed to the dusted ground.
"Dean..... Dean." Casitel's eyes searched his pained face, taking in the pink-touched ears that still showed signs of a working circulatory system. "Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean...."
Castiel knew nothing else but those words. the same words that pulsed through his head as he descended to hell to resurrect the man who now lay dying. Castiel clung to these words then, and he clung to them now much like he grasped at the blood soddened fabric. he knew nothing else but these words, as they bubbled out his clenching throat and fell off his tongue. his voice rained down on the body below, as it took its last stuttering gasps, clinging to the overcoat of a fallen angel. His own name was the last thing Dean heard.
