Gone

1

Maybe Dean should get up.

Maybe he shouldn't, that seemed like too much work.

But Cas seemed more concerned today than usual, maybe getting up will make him stop. It makes him feel bad when Cas gets like that.

But then the sun shines through the window and hurts his eyes, and he decides maybe the darkness is better.

______

He wakes up and it's dark beyond the dirty window. He has to blink to see the dull pink curtains hanging on the sides. He is studying the cloth when he hears footsteps coming to wherever he is now.

A hand appears on his cheek, a voice mumbles something he doesn't listen to. He knows it's Castiel, he just doesn't care. The hand stays on his cheek and he can't make it go black again, so the words slide into his head like a knife sliding through flesh. " - Know you can do it, it's not that hard. Just look at me Dean."

Dean doesn't look. He did once, a long time ago. All he could see was Castiel's eyes, looking right at him, not stopping. He felt sick, the last time he saw those blue eyes, like a world he had forgotten about was crushing him down. He had looked away soon after, willing the voice to fade out again, to leave him in silence and dark.

Cas stopped talking to him and the hand left his face, cold air biting his skin. He continues staring out the window, thinking of nothing until he fades out again.

_____

It's light again.

Dean is in a chair, not laying down like he was before. Cas must have moved him.

He is listening to Castiel making something. He can hear metal and a dull thud like a knife chopping through vegetables.

After a while Cas comes into his view with a bowl of something. He pulls up a chair and sits beside Dean.

Dean is not looking at him. He will not look at him.

Castiel doesn't ask him to. He just spoons something into Dean's mouth, and Dean swallows. It tastes sweet.

After Cas is done he wipes Dean's mouth with a napkin and walks away. Dean sits and watches the wall.

Sometimes, Castiel talks to him when he eats, telling him something about Angels and Demons. He stops after a while, discouraged by the lack of any response. Dean is glad when he doesn't talk. It makes it easier to go away.

He has to stare at the ceiling a long time before he fades out again.

_______

When he wakes up it's light out, but doesn't hurt his eyes. Maybe it's dawn. He remembers liking dawn, before.

Cas is moving around, dragging things over the floor. Maybe they are leaving, going to another nameless place Dean won't remember.

The light gets brighter and brighter, but Dean's eyes don't hurt. He can see a tree, with green leaves. It's been a while since he's seen anything that color, so bright and clean. It almost makes him want to get up.

He could only see a bit of the tree with the angle his head is at. If he could just move it a little....

He moved his neck. Just a little, just so he could see out that window more. See more of that green.

He felt his neck give an ache of disapproval at having moved after being still for so long. His eyes greedily searched for that splash of color, the shaking leaves and brown branches.

Suddenly Castiel was beside him, touching his hand and saying something. "Dean?"

Shit, he had moved. He had forgotten about Cas, about how he monitored him so closely. He had just wanted to see through the window....

Castiel was touching his hand more, asking him if he was awake, (which he obviously was, staring at the tree outside) if he needed anything. He kept talking to him and holding his hand. Then he moved his other hand to Dean's face, lightly resting it on his cheek. He was still talking, soothing words asking Dean to move again, to blink if he heard him.

The hand on his cheek was foreign and unwanted at first. But the warmth of it spread through Dean's face, the nicest thing he had felt in what seemed like ages.

He leaned his head every so slightly into Castiel's hand, wanting more warmth and comfort. The hand stilled, became more solid. Castiel stopped speaking.

"Dean? Can you hear me?" Castiel's voice was hopeful. Maybe he thought Dean was going to start talking, get up and walk around. But nothing like that was going to happen.

Dean pried his face away from the warmth, closing his eyes when the cold hits his face. He doesn't fade out. "Dean? Dean! Open your eyes! Please!"

Dean ignored Castiel. His neck was aching from the change of direction, small though it be.

He faded out soon after that.