Five Years Later

Chapter Two: The Suffering

It was cold outside. If Cas was asked to guess, he would have said it was mid-January, but there was no way to be sure. For years they had tried to differentiate between months, but they became muddled together so quickly. In the end, no one could keep track of anything other than when it was hot or cold.

Cas wrapped his trench coat tighter around his body, letting his hands be enveloped by the long, warm sleeves that reached just past his fingertips. He had been standing outside for what seemed to be forever, but it had hardly been more than an hour.

It was going to be a long day.

The frost crackled in the grass as someone approached him from behind, their footsteps heavy and certain. A voice, strong and commanding as it carried over to Cas, broke the somber silence brought by the dawn.

"Yes, sir?" Cas tilted his head to the side and pulled the cigarette away from his lips before dropping it distastefully onto the frozen grass. It smoldered there for a moment, life glowing in its embers. Cas snuffed it out with his shoe.

"I need you to come with me and the boys on a patrol later today. We heard rumors of a group making its way toward our base." It was Negan – Cas knew without turning around. He could tell based on the footsteps. Every other Savior, regardless of rank, treaded lightly as they passed through the halls of the base. Negan was the only one who had the freedom to go as he pleased, and he walked like a man who knew it.

"Yes, sir." Cas regretted his decision to toss the cigarette aside. He craved the warmth it had been giving him, the way the smoke filled his chest and seared his lungs. It made him forget about the pain. It was always there no matter what he did, but on the days he picked up a pack of cigarettes, it was easier to pretend that it wasn't.

Forgetting was bittersweet.

***

Cas had forgotten each memory he used to share with Dean.

He spent so much of his time in the prison holding on to each one and watching them slip away, moment by moment, until he was left with nothing except the darkness that consumed his senses and overwhelmed him to the point of insanity. He couldn't even imagine Dean saying I love you. It didn't sound right to his ears when he thought of those words. It wasn't Dean; it was his own voice, bouncing around in his empty and desperate mind.

In all honesty, he wanted to forget. It had taken years to do so and it would take many more to remember. It didn't bother him now that they were gone. It didn't feel like a piece of him was missing and hidden somewhere, where he would never be able to find it. That wasn't what dragged him down and made it hard to get out of bed every morning. That wasn't what felt like chains attached to his ankles, pulling along behind him on the way to get dressed.

It's what Cas told himself, anyway. 

It was easier than facing the truth.

The memories didn't matter because Dean didn't love him anymore.

Five years.

Five. 

Years.

Dean had never come for him. He had left Cas stranded with Negan, to be tortured in every sense of the word, while he went on living his merry little life with Katharine.

Negan had been the one to tell Cas about Katharine.

It hurt, at first. The pain Cas had been trying to hide came to the surface, aching in his chest and springing tears to his eyes. It stung more when Negan slammed his fists against the table, screaming into Cas' face that Dean didn't love him and never had.