One-Shots and Requests

Destiel -Wake Me Up When September Ends-

Dean and Cas scrambled behind the rotted trunk of an old Sequoia. They were running from a horde of skin-walkers. "This is what I get when I go to Cali. Damn," Dean said gruffly. The two men sat down. They'd outran the skin-walkers, but only just. Dean sat his gun on the moist, rich earth. He tilted his head skywards. "Look Cas," Dean said softly. Raindrops landed lightly against the sandy blonde's upturned face. "The rain. It...it looks like it's falling. From the stars..."

As he said this, Dean Winchester raised his arm, pointing at the millions of twinkling lights overhead. Castiel turned his head to look at his partner. He smiled at Dean's momentary innocence. Cas heard a crack. His head snapped in the direction of the noise. The men scrambled up in unison. The skin-walkers had caught up with them. Dean turned to look at his angel. He stared into the extraordinary blue eyes that felt like the closest thing to a home he'd ever known. "Castiel," Dean said, voice cracking a little. "This is a suicide mission. We probably won't make it out alive." Cas nodded. "So...I just might as well come clean. I love you, Cas. Not that it really matters at this point." Dean's emerald green eyes became glassy with tears. "D-Dean..I love you t-" Cas was cut off by Dean raising his hand in front of Castiel's face. "Don't, Cas. Not now. We have to just fire as soon as we see those friggin' bastards and do the rest of this later." The oldest Winchester began to cry. He let out a dry laugh, trying, and failing, to lighten the mood. Castiel nodded in understanding. The dark-haired angel stood shoulder to shoulder with the dirty-blonde hunter. In just moments, dozens upon dozens of skin-walkers charged towards the two men. They knew they'd never win. But they fought, fists and guns put to work.

Dean and Cas were slowing down, but there were still at least twenty skin-walkers. Dean and Cas exchanged glances. They knew what they needed to do. Both started sprinting as fast as their legs would allow. They reached a desolate old warehouse that Dean had noticed when the duo had arrived in California. Cas bolted towards the door and shoved it with his shoulder. The rusty locks broke, allowing both fighters to enter. Cas closed the doors behind Dean and him. He barricaded them with old chairs, splintered tables, crumbling Cinderblocks, anything he could get his hands on. After doing a sub-par job at sealing the doors, Cas moved towards Dean.

He was slumped against the wall, raindrops caught in his hair and a hand covering his stomach. A scarlet red flower of blood bloomed underneath his palm. It spread quickly, soon coating most of his green flannel shirt. There was a wound on his shoulder. A bite mark. "Son of a bitch bit me," Dean gasped, stating the obvious. Cas rushed towards him. "Cas." Castiel gazed at the bite wound and blossoming redness on Dean's abdomen. Salty droplets of pure sadness ran down Cas' cheeks. "Shhh, Dean, shhh. It-it's gonna be okay. You hear me? It's gonna be okay, dammit!" Cas' voice broke, leading to a loud sob. He felt a warm, calloused hand gently cradle the side of his face.

Castiel stared into Dean's brilliant green eyes. The eyes of the only person he'd ever truly loved. "Cas," Dean repeated sadly, voice full of despair. "You know what you have to do. I'm either going to die of blood loss or become one of those transforming dick heads. There's no happy ending for me, Cas." Cas shook his head slowly. He couldn't do it. He couldn't hurt Dean. "Just pick up your damn gun, Cas. You need to end this. You have to shoot me." Dean smiled softly, trying to comfort the heartbroken angel. "Then what do I do, Dean?! I can't live without you! What do you want me to do, after I shoot the only person I've ever cared about, dammit!" Cas cried out in anguish. "What do I expect you to do? I expect you to get the hell out of here. Take care of Sammy for me. You watch after my family. You remember, every damn day, how much I loved you. And I expect you to go out and keep saving people. The innocent can never last, Cas."

Dean pulled Cas towards him with his one free hand. Their faces were centimeters apart. Dean Winchester, the angst-filled, rough-and-tough, over-protective older brother, leaned in and placed a short but passionate kiss on Cas' soft lips. "Do it. Now," Dean ordered with finality. Cas nodded solemnly. He stood up and turned his head, lifting his gun. He counted to three in his head. 1...2...3... He pulled the trigger. He didn't even remember hearing gunfire. He just knew that he was alone. Utterly. Completely. Sadly. Alone. The one human being that Cas had ever loved with his entire heart and more, Dean Winchester, was gone on September first, eleven thirty-six p.m.

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One Year Later

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There was an urgent knocking at Cas' door. "Cas," Sam's pleading voice said. "You need to come out of your room. You haven't come out all day." Cas just rolled over in his sheets and yelled, voice full of pure anguish, "Just..just wake me up when September ends."

~The End~