The Wings That Never Faded

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Now I never posted this story on here but I wrote it a long time ago and when I found it again I actually really enjoyed it. It isn't a reader instead it's a really angsty Dean and Castiel ( mostly dean ) (not destiel) short story. I really really like it actually and I recently went back and edited it. Some might recognize it from my other story that I don't post on anymore

"Sad supernatural one shots" (g8 title m8 ikr)

And it's the first posted. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

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"NOOOOO!!!" Dean screamed, running towards the falling angel. Sam looked over in shock after quickly stabbing the last demon with Demon Knife, watching the red lights spark on and off as the body falls to the ground.

Dean falls to his knees and picks up Castile's head, placing him on his lap. Cas looked up at Dean face, his blue eyes widened at the sight of Deans apple green ones. Dean traced over Cas's body. The red, crimson blood slowly making its way out of the stab wound, staining the white shirt and trench coat.

"D- Dean..." Cas gasps as he begins to push Dean away with fear in his eyes, knowing what was to come. He could feel the tingly burning sensation igniting through his shoulder blades.

"Cas, you're gonna be okay buddy. Everything's going to be fine," Dean kept pulling Cas back, not understanding why Cas was pushing him away. Fear raced through Cas's body as his hands weakly fought against Deans grip. Not wanting to leave his best friends embrace in his final moments, but also not wanting to stay knowing what was going to happen as the burning got stronger.

Cas coughed, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth. He grabbed Deans jacket and tried to push him off with the last bit of strength he had, but Deans grip was relentless, keeping Castiel on his legs and pressed up against his stomach. Cas's arms began to shake as he began to panic.

"Dean... p-please," Cas whispered letting out another fit of coughs, letting drops of blood spit out onto his beige coat sleeve. He couldn't breathe, he could barely see the lights of the Impala flashing against their sides and casting a giants shadow against the brick wall next to them in the alleyway. His eyes were getting heavier and he could barely feel the excruciating pain of that stab wound.

"D- Dean.... I-I'm sorry.." He mumbles as he begins to gasp for that last bit of fresh air, feeling a warm tear run down his cheek as he traces over his best friends features one last time. As he looked at his best friends bright and broken soul. The one that he not only saved from perdition, but also ended up saving him. His eyes went wide as he frantically looked over every single freckle, eye lash, curve, and speck of Deans face before going limp.

Dean frowned in confusion, not understanding why Cas was apologizing. The once bright blue eyes have gone dull and lifeless as his eyelids shut. The tight grip from his hand on  Deans jean jacket was now lying limply beside him.

Deans breath hitched in his throat. His heart stopping completely.

"Cas?" Dean muttered, barely over a whisper. He waited for the bright blue eyes to open back up. For Castiel to pop back and say everything was alright. For him to be rambling about something like bees or pizza or ginny pigs. But it didn't happen.... it never happened.

Dean felt a tear roll down his cheek.  He shook Cas's body. Unknowingly that one shake began an unstoppable tears flowing and screaming. Screaming at god. Screaming at Crowley. Screaming at his Dad. Screaming at himself. He did nothing but scream and cry, hugging Cas's body with all his might crying into the crook of Cas's neck.

He cried, and without realizing the fiery heat growing on his stomach a loud blast and bright light pushed Deans body a few feet back. Burning was all he could feel now. Deans stinging, singed flesh and shirt felt like fire. Dean screamed louder, crying in agony and pain.

Sam ran to Deans side, picking him up and carrying him carefully and quickly to the Impala and putting him in the passengers side as well as Cas's body in the back. Dean did nothing but scream Castile's name, and no matter how hard it took Sam to stay calm he couldn't help but let a tear or two fall.

When they reached the bunker Dean had stopped screaming, he stopped crying, and he stopped feeling. He couldn't move or walk so Sam did what any good brother would do and carried him once more into the bunker. He placed Dean on the bed while attending to his burn wounds. Dean did nothing but stare blankly at the wooden bunker floors. Barely even blinking.

*couple months later*

Dean stood in front of the mirror looking at his reflection. He hasn't changed much, except his eyes had become a lot duller. Dean notice the dullness and thought it reminded him of Cas's eyes. He shook his head at the thought, pushing the flashbacks that wanted to come out back in the depths of his mind.

He lifted up his shirt and looked at the bandages. They were ready to come off. The 4th degree burns on his stomach should be healed or scared over by now.

With that in mind he began to peel off the bandages until they were nothing but a pile of white cloth on the floor.

He slowly looked up in the mirror, preparing to see his old stomach, but nothing prepared him for what was there.

Wings.....

He outlined the now permanent scar on his body. The details of the once beautiful and broken wings of his best friend. Dean felt a knot rise in his throat and quickly pulled the shirt down. Not being able to stand the sight of his own reflection, more or less the permanent reminder that the death was "his" fault.

                               ***

Never would anybody be able to get Dean Winchester to talk about his scar. When girls asked about it he'd claim it was a birth mark. He would have to be more hung over than an angel in a liquor store to even consider getting a glimpse of it.

Dean would never talk about Cas. When Sam would try and bring it up, Dean would cut him off by throwing a rant or two about how it didn't matter and that this was just another casualty in a war against evil, but he knew it wasn't. This wasn't just another death he could bury easily.

It all became to much for Dean. He wasn't in his right mind anymore. He was out of it and there was no one to save him this time. He had finally snapped. He had finally gone over board.

I'll be with you soon buddy....

Was the last thing the brave hunter thought before Sam heard the inevitable shot gun from behind the closed door.

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