I'm sorry, don't worry you'll forgive me for the ending
×××××××
1982
Dean sat on the couch of the old apartment he never got rid of. He hadn't touched the door handle to the bedroom, the knob on the stove, the very same knob Cas used back in 1965 to cook him spaghetti with no sauce, just butter. Dean hadn't turned on the TV where they once sat watching Star Trek together.
Instead, Dean's eyes were stuck on the record player that sat just a few feet across fom him beside the TV. His heart sunk just a little when he remembered dancing with Cas that morning to his favorite song.
His stuff needed to be dealt with. Dean thought, refusing to think his name or say it out loud. Dean knew he wasn't gonna ever deal with Cas's stuff. He was never going to pack it away
Dean rose from the couch, walked down the hall. His heart cracking at every little detail that made the apartment their's. The books, the scratches on the walls. He didn't think that that one board in the floor of the hallway to the bedroom would make him cry as he stepped on it, making that all too familiar squeek. The squeek he heard every morning when Cas got up before him.
One tear fell on to his shirt as he delicately turned the knob of the door to the bedroom. Once it opened and he heard it creek he closed his eyes until he heard it hit the wall behind it softly. With an effort to hold it together, Dean breathed in, then out, and opened his eyes.
Immediately he kept his eyes off the bed and looked at the nightstand where Cas's reading glasses still sat. "I love you.." Dean whispered, not touching the glasses as his eyes drifted to the bed. His heart lost all support and fell into his stomach, smashing into billions of pieces of memories and love that ripped his stomach and liver. He felt heavy with dread and grief making him fall to his knees.
The bed was still unmade.
"Jesus.." He sobbed and stared at the unmade sheets. The warmth had left them years ago. He could see his war helmet underneath the bed. Cas had slept in those sheets, this is how he left them. Dean couldn't touch them, he treated it like a priceless piece of art in a museum that would melt and be ruined forever if you laid one finger on it.
"My angel, my sweet, sweet angel" He racked out sob after retched sob. His ribs screaming in pain as he crawled on the floor towards the closet and opened the door.
The overwhelming smell of Cas bursted through the now open doors of the closet it felt like walking through the doors of a bakery, the smell was intoxicating and for a moment, just for a moment Dean forgot Cas was gone. Which made him feel the pain of the day of his death all over again as he screamed his name over and over.
His cries ripping and tearing at his throat with desperation as his trembling hands picked off one of Castiel's sweaters from the wire hangers and pulled it to his chest, inhaling it deeply as the smell of his lover engulfed him into a state of utter madness. "Cas! Castiel please! Jesus- This isn't fair! Cas! Cas!!" He shrieked not caring if the neighbors heard him.
2016
Dean is seventy-five years old now as he finishes his order of fries and a milk shake. The same booth him and Cas once sat at 51 years ago. Across from him sat a full plate of fries and a full milkshake glass with salt cubes scattered over the table. He'd set the scene just as it was the night he took him on his first date and the saddest thing was is that Cas could be here with him right now if he just hadn't left him.
It was late at night until Dean got up and left the diner, walking past the same alleyway they kissed in that night, all the way to Cas's apartment. Looking up at it and imagining him helping Cas off his bike just the way he'd done that night.
Dean walked the stairs up to his and Cas's apartment that he lived in. He walked in and flicked on the light, making his way to the bedroom where he never slept. The sheets were just the way Cas had left them years ago. Dean always slept on the couch but tonight he knew it was his time to go and he was so happy because eventually he'd be reunited with Cas. It was like going to bed on Christmas eve except 10000 times better.
He didn't take his heart pills at 8 o'clock like he was supposed to. So he knew he'd die tonight if he didn't take those pills. Dean took Cas's favorite sweater out of the closet and lied over the unmade sheets and reached behind him and moved the needle of the old record player. It made a crackling noise as the all too familiar strumming filled the room and painted the walls with old memories.
"I haven't listened to this song in years" Dean smiled as he hugged Cas's sweater and sang along.
"Wise men say..." He tried not to look back on the moment he sung this to Cas to make him feel less afraid.
"Only fools rush in..." He tried not to think about the sounds of the waves or the sound Cas made right before he died. That horrible wet noise.
"But I...can't help" Dean let those memories go and pictured seeing Cas for the first time from across the room at that party as his eyes began to fall closed.
"Falling in love..." Dean hummed as he closed his eyes with a smile.
"With..." Dean was asleep now.
"You" Dean hugged the sweater closer. The picture he held of Cas in his hand still there
Sometime in the middle of the song Dean's heart stopped and his soul left his body up through the ceiling of the apartment building and into the clouds.
It was scary but all was okay when he realised he was 20 again, he was walking around the apartment and he saw someone sitting there at the table with dark hair, he looked like he was waiting for something, someone.
Dean was frightened until he realized who it was when he saw those young blue eyes...
And heard that sweet, sweet voice.
"Dean?"
