Imaginary Lover

Chapter 7

A/N- I'm sorry for the absolute ridiculous lateness of this chapter. It has been occasionally busy but I promise the next chapter will be up in no more than 2 days. Also, if you feel there are certain discrepancies regarding the funeral and you're more familiar with military funerals, feel free to leave a comment and I will make amends accordingly.

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The weekend had arrived and Winchester family was discussing plans for a funeral. The body had been delivered by the Marines and had arrived in the United States. The funeral was scheduled for Sunday and they talked about if they wanted to do speeches. Dean was sitting in one corner of their couch, his mother to his left and Sam to her left. He wasn't talking as much and only talked when either of them asked him directly. He left shortly after, claiming a headache and went to his room. There were a few texts he had from Cas and Charlie but he didn't have the patience to reply to them. Instead, he called Cas up and he picked up a few rings later.

"Hey kitten. You alright? Something happened? You want me to come over?", Cas said in a rush of words full of concern. Dean smiled as he replied,"I'm fine... I just- we were uh, discussing about the-"

His voice faltered and he hesitated, falling silent. "It's okay, I know. You have me whenever you want me", Cas replied. Tears pooled in Dean's eyes as he cleared his throat and dabbed at them quickly before continuing," Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you. Um, would you.. want to come to the- to-" His words were choked in his throat and tears flowed freely as he let out an involuntary hitch.

"Hey hey hey. It's okay it's okay. I'll be there I promise", Cas soothed Dean. Dean breathed in deeply and muttered a thank you before cutting the call. It immediately rang again and Cas's name flashed across the screen but Dean wasn't interested in picking up. He knew that he meant well but right now, he was starting to lose it. His stomach hurt and nausea engulfed him and he raced to the bathroom and vomited into the toilet. After he was done, he removed his glasses to wipe the tears streaming down his face and splash water on it to feel better. The taste in his mouth didn't feel all that great so he brushed his teeth and went downstairs to help himself to some water.

"Hey. Did I hear you throwing up?", Sam asked with concern in his voice as he turned the volume on the TV down.

"Yeah. I just- you know how I get when I'm stressed", Dean said softly. Sam nodded in understanding before asking if he needed anything else. Shaking his head, Dean walked out of the kitchen with Bones on his heels. Their dog had a knack for knowing when someone was sick and followed him into his room where he decided to settle at Dean's bedside.

Deciding that he needed a distraction, he turned to his assignments from his classes and concentrated on trying to finish them. They weren't due for a while as certain topics had yet to be covered but he did them anyway, trying his best to understand and comprehend the concepts and math associated with certain topics. After a while, the words got blurry enough that he decided to call it a night and headed toward his bed.

He checked his phone to see his texts and found several from Cas.

Cas- I know you need your space but if you're hurting and you don't tell me, I will not be happy. Please, I'm here for you. Just... talk.

Cas- Don't shut me out you idiot.

He gave up reading them. It's not like he didn't want comfort, but he wanted to grieve alone and in his own way. The only person who had played a key role in his life was gone and on Sunday, he would have his final goodbye.

Tears slipped down his face as he went through some of the photos he had of them together. Camping trips, carnivals, birthdays- he relived all of it. Flashbacks of learning how to ride a bike, over took him as he remembered that day that was lost in his memories until now. Dean had been scared about falling but his dad had reassured him that he would be there, holding him from the back to steady him. It took a lot of coaxing and pleading before his 6 year old self nodded and started riding. The bike felt wobbly and his peddling had been uncertain along with the grip on the handle bars. But his dad had encouraged him to keep going and he took courage from that and gained more confidence and peddled with lesser uncertainty than before. He kept going and before he knew it, he was at the end of the street and had whooped loudly. When he turned and saw John halfway down, he was surprised. He hadn't realised that he'd left him about halfway through. He peddled fast and reached his father who was beaming.