His Fallen Grace

Chapter Fifteen

They'd been looking all day. Sam had hot-wired an old car, Dean taking the Impala. They thought it better to split, agreeing they'd have a better chance of finding him that way. But Sam had yet to gather a single lead. He'd tried calling Dean to see if he'd had better luck, but he wouldn't pick up.

"This is Dean Winchester. Leave your name, number, and nightmare at the tone."

Beep!

"Hey, Dean. It's me, again. I was just calling to see if you've got anything on Cas... Can you uh, pick up your phone, please?"

He pressed 'end,' tossing his phone in the passenger seat with a huff. 10:45... Was it really that late? Maybe Dean was back at the bunker... Sam found himself foolishly hoping he'd be back with Cas at his side, their laughter echoing through the kitchen as they wash dishes together, or the two of them curled up, watching things on his laptop without permission. Although they hadn't been together long, Sam hadn't seen Dean that happy in years.

He parked the car down the street where they'd found it originally, jogging over to the bunker as he saw the Impala parked nearby.

He cast a glance around before he grasped the handle and pushed the door open, instantly warming up as he stepped in, finding himself vaguely disappointed. There was no laughter, no sound of running water, or the clatter of dishes. There wasn't any old western movies playing, or old cartoons. Just silence. Cas had only been gone a day, but Sam felt like it'd been longer. The day was really dragging out.

He picked up the Impala's keys, which rested on the table of the empty dining hall. Dean was here, but nowhere in sight. Sam placed the keys back where he found them, heading for the kitchen when he heard the crunching of glass from beneath his feet.

"Great..." he breathed, stepping over the shards which littered the floor.

"Dean?"

No answer. He called out again.

"Dean?"

Silence.

His foot hit a beer can upon walking into the kitchen, sending it skidding across the floor only to stop when it made contact with the cupboard on the other side. He saw another at the start of the hall, and decided to follow the trail.

Part way down the hall, he found his brother slumped against the wall, sitting amongst beer cans and bottles. He took a swing as he half-cast his brother a look. Sam approached him slowly, stepping over the scattered cans and bottles, kneeling down in front of his brother.

"Dean?"

He mumbled something, hunching over. Sam cast the empty cans and bottles a look.

"Dean, how much did you drink?"

Some more drunken slurring.

"Hey. Dean."

He gripped his brother's knee and shook it a little in an attempt to get his senses back together. He got a groggy, hoarse voiced reply,

"He left me, Sammy..."

His words hit Sam like a brick. Cas leaving Dean, that was what Dean had been afraid of. Dean leaned his head back against the wall, revealing red rimmed eyes. Sam took the beer bottle from Dean's slacked grasp, setting it down beside his as he gripped his brother's shoulders.

"C'mon, Dean... Let's get you up..."

Dean clutched Sam's wrists, letting out a weak laugh.

"He fucking left me Sam..."

"Dean, just be quiet, okay?"

Sam slung one of his brother's arms around his shoulders, heaving him upright, Dean occasionally tripping over his own feet as they made their way down the hall. They entered Dean's bedroom, Sam laying Dean down on the bed.

"Why does everyone leave Sam...?"

"Dean, just... Go to sleep, okay?"

"There's something wrong with me, isn't there...?"

Sam worked Dean's hand off of his wrist, pulling a blanket over him.

"Go to sleep."

"I miss him, Sammy... I miss him already..."

"I know."

"I'm worried about him Sam..."

"Don't be. Cas... He can handle himself. Just... Go to bed, please. We'll look again tomorrow."

"He's not coming back, is he...?"

"I don't know."

"I love him, Sammy..."

"I know you do, Dean."

Sam stayed with him until he finally drifted to sleep, then slipped out, pressing the door closed behind him. He proceeded to go into the kitchen, grabbing one of the three cold beers left in the fridge and then headed outside. Once he was, he leaned up against the Impala, pulling the tab on his beer with a snap, gazing up at the stars.

He drew a breath, his breath fogging up in the cool night air. He shuffled his feet, looking down at them before taking a swing and looking back up.

"Cas... If you can hear me... You've got to come back. Dean, he's a wreck... You have to come back, Cas. Please."

He knew there wasn't a chance Cas would hear him, but he thought it to be worth a shot anyways.

*** *books a flight to India* ***