The Knock (Destiel)

Chapter thirty-one

31. Real life or fantasy?

       It had been three months since the Winchesters freed Castiel from the spell. For the ex-angel, it were the worst months in his existence. After his outburst, Sam and Dean had constantly been by his side, making him feel even more worthless. The three of them had been searching for the real monster that had trapped Castiel, but with no success. Then again, Castiel didn't really care anymore.

       He was thrilled when the Winchesters announced to go on a hunt, but was disappointed once again when they tried to tell him that they didn't want him to come. When Castiel had asked why, they said they wanted him to be safe.

       He didn't talk to them for the rest of the day, as he isolated himself in his current room, one of the spare rooms at the end of the hall. Of course, Dean had tried to talk to him, but he refused to give in to his pleas. The last time Dean entered the room, was to apologise and tell that they were leaving.

       Three days later, the Winchesters returned from their successful hunt, bruised slightly. The first thing Dean did was call out to Castiel, since he hadn't stopped worrying about the ex-angel. Actually, he had never wanted to finish a hunt this soon, just to go back home. Just when he was about to search the bunker for Castiel, Sam called his name.

       When he turned around, he was met with the worried face of his brother, holding a piece of paper. Immediately, he ran over to him and snatched it out of his hands. Within seconds, the folded paper was opened, revealing a letter.

Dear Sam and Dean,

Ever since I woke up, I've felt different. There is this hole in my chest, growing with guilt and anger. Thoughts swarm around my head like a plague, filling it with lies. Basically, I don't know what's right and what's wrong anymore. To be honest, I don't know if I'll ever know. I'm living in two worlds, in which both my pasts are catching up on me.

Do you know how hard it is to act like everything is fine? Especially from you? You're used to see this powerful angel. A fearless soldier of heaven, not a depressed, worthless human being.

Despite my lack of skills, I do love you. Both of you. Yes, I might be in love with one of you - surprise - but I will never stop caring for you. You deserve an angel on your shoulder. One that can actually protect you. Not some baby in a trench coat.

I'm just done fighting battles I can't win.

See you in a next life,

Castiel.

       For a moment, Dean blanked out. He barely progressed Sam talking to him and pulling his sleeve to start searching. He just stood there, with the letter in his hands. Then, everything was as clear as day, as he jumped into action. The first room to search was the bathroom, which seemed the most obvious place to look. Apparently, that's what Castiel thought too.

       Door after door was broken down and slammed open, but Castiel was nowhere to be found. Dean felt panic rise in his chest as his sight was blurring. He had to keep going, for Cas. The last room to break down was Dean's room. The moment they figured that the room was locked, Sam kicked it down swiftly.

       With shaking hands, Dean walked inside. The first thing he noticed was blood; an awful lot of it. As fast as he could, he followed the trail towards his bed, Sam following in his footsteps. Then they found Castiel, in the arms of someone else, whose back was turned towards them. Yet, the unknown man seemed to be familiar.

       "Gabriel?" Sam asked warily, making the man turn his head. Then he laid down the body on his lap and stood up. His jeans were covered in blood, as were his hands. "You're alive."

       "Well noticed. Thanks to me, your precious Castiel is too, by the way. How could you be so stupid to leave him alone!" The archangel raised his voice. Dean looked down in shame, noticing Castiel's unconscious body on the ground. His arms too, were covered in blood, yet there were no cuts. Dean figured that Gabriel healed his brother.

       Nobody said a word, because they all knew that Gabriel was right. You don't just leave a depressed man alone when he needs you the most, especially when you have the chance to stay. Unwillingly, two tears escaped the hunter's eyes, one from his left and one from his right. When Gabriel saw this, his expression softened lightly and he seemed less tense.

       "When I first heard it, I thought I was delusional. It wasn't an angel that was praying, but it felt like he was one," Gabriel spoke up, snapping his fingers once. Castiel's unconscious body was gone, yet the bloodstains remained. The archangel stood up and sat down.

       "Cas prayed?" Sam asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. Dean, who was still looking down at the massive amount of blood on the ground, looked up too.

       "Yeah, he did. He was rambling in Enochian, choking on his own words. The moment I heard him say he was done, I crawled out of the shadows. Just in time, as you can see.

       "About that, we thought Lucifer killed you." Sam said.

       "Yep. No jokes about that one, Samsquatch. Apparently, daddy dearest loved me enough to put me back together. I chose an unknown identity and so far it worked out pretty great. Well, that's until you dickheads had to ruin everything."

       The conversation continued this way. Sam would ask him questions and the angel would reply with something sarcastic. However, Dean didn't even try to pay attention. Ever since Castiel's confession, he realised that he cared too much about the ex-angel to be just friends. This scared the living shit out of him. He kept staring at the blood, secretly hoping that it would all disappear and that he was dreaming.

       He had called him a baby in a trench coat, and Castiel chose to write that down on his suicide note. That thought made the hunter want to cry. As Famine had told him before the apocalypse, Dean was broken. He might as well be dead, his heart being the only surviver.

       At that moment, he realised that his heart was holding it together because of a certain angel, literally and figuratively. As he was thinking, he could hear his heartbeat thrum in his ears, drowning out all sounds. He swallowed. It all made sense now. The stares, the personal space, the multiple sacrifices.

      He was in love with Castiel.

     

      Shit.