Writing's on the Wall Destiel

Chapter 27

Sam threw down the book with a frustrated yell. "Is there literally no possible way to stop Lucifer?!"

Castiel rubbed his eyes and set his book down, as did Bobby. For the last day and a half they had been looking for ways to rescue Dean from Lucifer- and bring him back normal. So far, they had had no luck whatsoever. All the lore seemed to say was the wait for Michael the archangel to bind Lucifer and cast him into the pit, but as Sam and Dean had a bad run in with Michael, that option was thrown away.

Sam ran his hands through his hair for the hundredth time. "This is so frustrating!"

Castiel knew it wasn't just the nothingness of the lore that got to him. He could clearly see Sam's eye bags, and dark rims around his eyes. His face was paler than usual and his usually straight and neat clothing was now struggled and unkempt. A worry had appeared in Sam's brow, something that has not been there before. "Sam, you should rest. You're exhausted."

Sam looked at him forlornly. "You're one to talk."

Castiel bit his lip. It was true that recently he had started feeling dizzy, with the overwhelming urge to nauseate and to rest. He had brushed it off as stress, but he knew that wasn't it. "At this point I am in better condition than you. It's what Dean would have wanted, Sam."

At the mention of his brother's name, Sam's face softened. "We're going to get him back, right?"

"Of course. And besides, he always comes back." Castiel wasn't sure who he was talking to- Sam or himself. Probably both, he decided.

Sam looked doubtful, but he nodded and headed upstairs into his room. He fell asleep before his head touched the pillow.

Castiel watched the younger Winchester plod up the stairs with defeated shoulders, aching to help him. A heavy weight settled on his heart, the weight of Dean's absence, Sam's grief, and Bobby's determination.

"You ain't lookin' so good there, Cas. You okay?"

Castiel turned to face the retired hunter, who was holding a half finished beer bottle in his hand. The poor man already had enough to deal with. He didn't need the whining of another person on his hands. "I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me, son." Bobby strode up next to him. "I know you're not. You're devastated. You're exhausted. And it's okay to be. Dean's decision affected us all, so don't bother hiding it."

"I know, I'm sorry. It's just...." Castiel sat down in a chair, fidgeting with his trenchcoat sleeves, "I miss him so much."

"I know you do, probably the most out of any of us."

"I love him," Castiel said softly. He didn't know why he said it; to be honest, he wasn't sure why he even spoke. Maybe it was to reassure Bobby. Maybe it was to reassure himself. Maybe it was to convince him that there was still some light in the thick of the dark.

Castiel didn't know anything anymore. He didn't know what to believe or to think. So maybe that was why he said those three simple words that had a pure meaning behind them. Maybe it was to remind him that he only knew one thing for certain anymore, and that it was his unending love for Dean Winchester.

"You don't have to tell me, kid. It's obvious, the way you two chuckleheads look at each other." Bobby sat down next to him. "I'm happy for the both of you. And I know we're going to get him back."

Castiel looked at him. "Thank you, Bobby. For everything."

Bobby grunted and returned to studying the lore, eyes scanning every word. Castiel took that as his cue to continue studying, and so he did- for the next few hours.

A few hours later

Castiel blinked as the words seemed to blur together until his mind could no longer register them. He put down his book and rubbed circles on his temples, groaning softly.

He didn't think anyone heard, but Bobby did. After eyeing Castiel skeptically, he got up and brought back two beers from the refrigerator- one for Castiel and one for himself.

Castiel accepted the beer. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet." Bobby got up. "Found anything?"

"No. The lore just repeats itself over and over again."

"Uh huh." Bobby was more fixated on the way Castiel's eyes seemed dim and how his face seemed a shade paler. "You've been asking like a sitting duck trying to look for ways to kill the Devil. Why don't you go take a break?"

"I-"

"Ain't gonna be much better if you stare at a page all damn day and don't find anything. Go."

Castiel willingly accepted, and in no time was out the door. Shutting it gently, he turned to the world outside- a pale grey sky warning of rain, green leaved trees standing out in contrast against it. A light breeze was drifting about, tossing his coat and hair softly.

As he walked, the air suddenly grew colder. He wrapped his trench coat tighter around him and continued walking. The back of his coat splayed out behind him, blown by the wind.

The woods drew closer the further he walked. Just as he was about to pass it, Castiel stopped and peered at it suspiciously. Something didn't feel right. The woods weren't only shrouded in fog, but also in hidden danger. His angel blade slipped into his hand and he took small, cautious steps towards it.

As he stepped inside the woods, his angel instincts were activated. He silenced his footsteps and crept towards the heart of the woods when he heard a familiar voice call out, "Cas?!"

Was that- is it "Dean!"

"Cas! Cas!" His voice sounded closer now. Castiel turned in the direction of Dean's voice and crashed through brush and trees, trying to get to him. "Dean!"

He broke into a clearing and saw Dean's back facing him. "Dean!"

Dean turned around and his face lit up. "Cas!"

Castiel began running to him, but suddenly a shade came down over Dean's eyes. Words that didn't sound like him erupted from his mouth. "Hey, angel."

Castiel gulped. "Dean...your eyes."

For the vibrant green he knew and loved so much had receded into the black orbs that were demon eyes.