Leaping Into Freedom (Destiel)

burial

Castiel waited for Dean to book him again, but it was a while before he got the call to come in. Crowley stopped him at the door.

"Castiel, I've been noticing that this Dean boy seems to be booking you quite often. You better not be hiding anything from me." Crowley got real close to Castiel's face."if you are, you'll get in big, big, trouble."

Crowley lightly stroked Castiel's hip with his hand as he said this, foreshadowing and hinting at what would happen have he make a wrong move.

"Of course sir. I would never wrong you." Of course, Castiel was fibbing about this. He wronged Crowley every time he went to deans. It wasn't an unimaginable thought that Crowley was going to be suspicious.

Castiel knocked on the apartment door he could already smell the stench of alcohol as he banged his fist against the door. The rotting wood around the door handle creaked as the door knob turned.

Dean was clearly intoxicated. But Castiel knew that this might be his only chance to tell Dean about Sam.

Dean greeted Castiel in slurred speech. He waddled towards the chairs and plopped down like rotten lettuce in a salad.

A half full bottle of beer tipped over the edge of the table and shattered, glass scattering across the floor like frightened mice.

"So, give me the update. Did'ja tell Sammy im still out here looking for em?"

Even through the drunken glaze, Castiel could see that dean was truly excited to hear about his brother and how he was doing.

Castiel prepared himself it tell Dean the dreaded harsh truth. It was sad to think that the last Sam probably saw of anyone was a person who paid to rape him. He died a whore. No body deserves to die like that.

"Dean, I'm sorry. Sam died of an overdose 4 days ago.

The silence was defining. The broken clock on the wall was louder. Castiel looked around the room to distract himself from the look of shock and horror on deans face, and avoiding eye contact. For the first time he noticed the small apartment.

The room was cramped, and square. It had coordinating wooden furniture, and the floor is wood. The walls are painted with a paneled dado.  Light is provided by floor lamps and a ceiling light.  The room is littered with hundreds of bottles, but you could tell it was once a nice apartment. 

Castiel failed the avoid eye contact game when Dean spoke at last. His usually drunken eyes were sober and solemn. He seemed... At peace?

"Maybe it's for the better that he left this world." Dean lit a cigarette, ignoring the obvious fire hazard. "I loved my brother, and he doesn't deserve to have lived that life."

Castiel looked down at the floor and started counting the small pieces of glass wedged in between the floor boards. Dean took a long drag at his cigarette.

"You know, Sammy was going to go to Stanford University one day. He wanted to become a lawyer. And believe me when I say he was. He was the smartest person in his class. When he went missing that night, I knew there was no getting him back. Maybe that overdose was a sign for me to stop looking for 'em. Stop stressing about him. Let Sammy pass on the way he had to."

Castiel spied a tear in Dean's eye. He noticed one in his own as well. It was sad to lose Sam, but he knew Dean was crushed. He placed a soft kiss on deans lips and held him close, soft hiccups that failed to make a noise, sounded more like a heartbeat.

"I know where he was dumped, if you would like to give him a proper burial." Castiel hoped that dean would say yes and was surprised when he did. He wanted to have a final goodbye. Castiel still had 4:30 left to be with Dean, so he decided it was safe to go.

He left the apartment complex with Dean and observed him pull out a pair of keys. Dean was drunk so he didn't know how much he trusted his driving skills, but he didn't exactly know how either.

He entered a black Chevy Impala, surprisingly clean compared to his house. Castiel buckled his seatbelt and rested his back against the seat.

He was almost like a human GPS as he navigated Dean to his dead brothers body. Once they reached the corner he was dumped at, Castiel braced himself to see his dead friend.

He closed the door behind him and the stench smacked him in the face. It was the smell of flesh let out in the sun too long. Castiel glanced over to Dean and saw tears return to his eyes. He heard him mutter under his breath a small comment on the smell.

Then Castiel saw Sam himself.

His face was recognizable, but small raw dents remained where bugs ate their way through. The smell was worse up close. It smelled like freeze burned chicken with a few drops of cheap perfume.

His eyes stared up at the sky, as if he was waiting for a moment that would happen any minute now. Something layed eggs in the corner of his left eye. Maggots crawled around the surrounding area and on Sam himself.

Dean was hysterical. He cried and screamed Sam's name, shaking the bug riddled body as if it would wake up. If a final act of indignity, Crowley must have told them to strip him naked, because not a single piece of clothing remained on his brothers body. He could imagine Crowley thinking that this was a fitting death for a dirty prostitute like him.

Dean whimpered Sam's name one last time before turning his attention to Castiel once more.

"How could they do this to him?!?" Dean's calm composure from earlier was gone. His hands were shaking and a tear drop fell from his eye.

"Well come on, help me dig. I'm not letting him leave without a proper burial. He doesn't deserve that."

Castiel got on his hands and knees and started digging. Dean did the same. Thankfully, the ground was damp so it didn't take as much time as they thought it would. They still had 2 hours left by the time the hole was dug. It wasn't 6 feet exactly, but it was close enough.

Castiel helped Dean hoist the body into the hole. Insects fell from Sam as the body was Disturbed. He plopped into the hole and Dean shut his eyes before moving a handful of dirt onto him.

When he looked at the corner, Castiel could have sworn he saw a black van, or maybe it was just his paranoia acting up.