Destiel Oneshots

Blue

Dean stared after the woman walking past them on the street in a daze.
"Whoa, dude! Could you maybe stop checking out chicks and concentrate on the job?" Sam said wearily. His words had no effect. Only when he violently shook Dean was that he broke out of his reverie.
"What were you even thinking about?"
Dean only grunted in response.

Sam soon got lost in thoughts of his own. Dean wasn't taking Cas' death well. He hardly ever spoke anymore and drowned himself in alcohol. He sobered up enough for hunts but apart from that he was pretty much wasted. He hardly ate and slept only when he was exhausted to the core. He couldn't even bear to look at Jack because he reminded him so much of Cas.
Sam shook himself out of his chain of thoughts and looked at Dean to see his dazed, glossed over eyes following the woman. That's when it occurred to Sam that he wasn't checking her out. He must've noticed something strange.
"Hey Dean, do you see something weird?"
Dean didn't hear him. He was looking at the woman's dress and drowning in the beautiful shade of blue. Dean had never really liked blue much. But there was something about this particular shade. It made him feel calm and at home. Something seemed very familiar about the colour.
The woman soon walked away out of Dean's sight. He sighed and got back to staring out of the window.

Over the days, the same colour appeared in various places and came back to taunt him again and again. It smirked at him from a child's skateboard. It stood out in a girl's dyed hair. It laughed evilly from a bedroom wall of a victim's house. And each time, Dean failed to explain to himself why that colour made his heart wrench.

It had been almost a year since Cas' death and Dean was the same. Sam was worried about him. He tried to keep busy, finding hunts for himself and Dean. As for Dean, he was no better than he'd been last year. Losing Cas had completely broken him. And the blue everywhere around him was driving him crazy.
They were sitting at the kitchen table, Sam with his laptop and Dean with a glass of whiskey in his hand, staring blankly into oblivion when Donna called. She and Jody needed immediate help. Sam took one look at Dean and decided he was in no shape to go. So he took Jack along with him, leaving Dean alone in the bunker.

It was a few hours before Dean realised he was alone. He quickly downed his whiskey, groaned and ran his hand through his hair. He got up, unsteady on his feet and somehow managed to stand straight. He wandered aimlessly around the bunker, occasionally stumbling until somehow he ended up in front of Cas' room. He stood there, staring vacantly at the door until he finally decided that he couldn't bear it any longer. He pushed the door and walked in.

No one had entered this room for almost a year. The only indications that Cas was gone were the thick layers of dust covering everything and the broken green eyed man with tears streaking down his face in the corner. After what seemed like an eternity, Dean composed himself and walked to the desk. He looked around Cas' things. His laptop. Some books. The mixtape that Dean had given to him. He smiled fondly at that memory, a smile that quickly disappeared. Among the various things scattered across the desk, Dean noticed a pile of photos. He picked them up and backed up against the wall. Fresh tears stung at his eyes, threatening to spill. He looked at them, one by one and finally came to a photo of just him and Cas. He remembered how he'd been half drunk and begged Cas to take a picture together after they'd barely gotten out alive from a hunt. Dean had almost told him how much he loved him that day but got cold feet at the eleventh hour.

He looked at it, his eyes taking in all of Cas until finally, something clicked in his slow, alcohol affected brain. Why that particular shade of blue drove him mad, made his heart ache. Why, even though it hurt him, it was his favourite colour.

Castiel's beautifully piercing blue eyes stared back at him from the photograph.