The Last Goodbye

11

Dean tried to focus his bleary vision on the lines of the highway that disappeared beneath the hood of the impala. He settled his foot further into the gas pedal and felt the engine jolt as he accelerated down the empty pavement. He reached to the dash and cranked the stereo's volume up. Dean tried to clear his mind with the Zeppelin cassette that shook his speakers, but every song made him think of Cas.

He visualized two different sets of blue eyes with the same piercing gaze. He was captivated by the mere thought of Cas and the comfort he gave him. Every moment with the angel was the only peace he knew. For nearly a decade, the only time Dean ever felt remotely safe was when he was with Cas in the bunker. Too much of the last decade, they'd spent apart. He'd always be haunted by the far too many occasions he thought Cas was lost to him forever. Dean had managed to bring him home more times than he could count. Cas always came back. He made his way back to Dean from the Darkness, Lucifer, the Leviathan, from Purgatory, Naomi, and Metatron. And after having been deliberately ripped apart so often, Dean was relieved when the angel finally severed his ties to Heaven. The only downfall from his sacrifice was the loss of some of his angelic qualities. Cas could no longer teleport, his healing abilities were severely crippled, and he had no way to monitor the actions of his brothers and sisters. But Dean preferred the weakened version of his friend and was only grateful his angel was finally exactly that- his angel.

The sun peaked above the tree line in the horizon. Dean felt himself sobering up with the approaching morning. Beams of light illuminated the road ahead and danced across the hood of the impala. Dean's encroaching sobriety exposed the ache he was trying to destroy. The memory of a night last month stalked him.

Dean was lost in a dream. He struggled and clawed through deathly grey forest. Leviathan bit at his heels and yanked Castiel away from him. Dean thrashed through the hoard of big-mouths and reached desperately for the angel. He helplessly watched as Cas slowly vanished amongst black ooze. Dean woke up shaking violently, unable to breath, with tears streaming down his face. He grappled to gain his bearings as he hyperventilated in the pitch black of his bedroom. As he struggled to fill his spasming lungs, he felt a strong hand clench his left shoulder. He panted and reached out for the trench coat hanging off the man leaning over him.

"Dean, it's okay. I'm here," the angel's intensely deep voice reassured him. Dean tugged on the lapel and gently drew Cas down next to him. The angel hesitated only briefly before sliding beneath the blankets to lay alongside him. Dean turned his back to the angel and pulled Cas' arm over him, interlocking their hands franticly. The angel pressed his chest against the trembling hunter's back and squeezed him, "Dean...breathe." Cas held on to Dean until he finally drifted back to sleep.

Dean awoke a few hours later to Sam yelling from the kitchen that they had a case. He was alone in his bed, but the empty space to his left was still warm.

Dean began to wonder how far he had driven when he spotted the ominous flashes of red and blue rapidly approaching in the rearview mirror. He slowed and pulled to a slanted stop alongside the road. A female state trooper exited her vehicle and advanced toward Dean's window.

"My bad, ma'am. I was goin' too fast. I apologize," Dean appealed as he cocked a grin and winked at the officer.

"License and registration, sir," she responded brusquely.

Taken aback at his failed advances, Dean fumbled through his wallet. He handed her a well-made fake Kansas ID and car registration.

She looked from the card in her hands to Dean and back again. "Give me just a moment to write up your citation Mr. Osbourne."

Dean watched her walk briskly back to her car. He squinted his eyes to see better in the intensifying daylight and watched her in the mirror. The moment she got in the vehicle she started talking, but seemingly not to anyone or anything. He knew something wasn't right. Dean reached into the empty pocket that he typically put his cell phone in and remembered leaving it on the kitchen counter back at the bunker. Fuck. Panic inundated him when he looked back to the officer. He saw her among six other seemingly random people as they surrounded Baby.

"Oh, this ain't good..." he started the ignition and reached for the angel blade beneath his seat but before he could touch it, the state trooper appeared in the passenger seat next to him.

"You are coming with us, Dean Winchester. For the greater good," she proclaimed. Before he could protest, cold metal slammed against the back of his head and his vision went black. He fought for his senses to return, but without luck. The world spun to foggy black, and in a desperate effort as consciousness slipped away, he prayed.

9