End of Message - 13x07 coda, 500 words, Angst
“You’ve reached my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail.”
“Hey Cas, just checkin’ in. Wondering if you’ve got anything new yet on this ‘interesting lead.’ Lemme know. You, uh, I dunno. You sounded kinda weird before.”
“You’ve reached my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail.”
“Cas, hey, it’s me. Listen, I know it’s only been a couple hours, but look, Sammy and I don’t have much on our end, here. I’d feel better if we were on this together. Just… yeah, just call when you get this.”
“You’ve reached my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail.”
“‘Kay, c’mon man. Tryin’ real hard not to feel like the girl stood up for prom, here. At least text or something. Gimme one of those dumbass emojis.”
“You’ve reached my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail.”
“Damnit, Cas, answer your damn phone.”
“You’ve reached my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail.”
“Okay, we’re comin’ up on two days now, man. I – I thought. . . fuck.”
“You’ve reached my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail.”
“I thought we weren’t doing this anymore, Cas. I thought we had a rule now. You weren’t gonna go takin’ off on us – on me, man – and tryin’ to do it all alone. C’mon.”
“You’ve reached my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail.”
“Look, I don’t know what’s goin’ on, okay, I don’t know what kind of crap you’re getting into here. But listen, seriously, I don’t care. I don’t care if shit’s hit the fan and I don’t care if you think it’s your fault. I don’t care if it actually is your fault. Call me back, man. Let me help. We… Cas, we had a rule.”
“You’ve reached my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail.”
“Okay, so what the fuck was that then, the other night, huh? Fuck.”
“You’ve reached my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail.”
“I’m sorry. I know what it was. I know you. It’s not in you to lie to my face about this, just to – to get in my pants or whatever. But Cas, man, I also know that you carry the damn world on your shoulders, and you think that you always have to clean up your own messes, but I swear to god, Cas, you don’t have to. You think it’s still your job to keep us out of it all, and keep us safe, and protect me and Sam. But it doesn’t work like that, Cas. We protect each other. I’ve been saying that for years. And if you think that’s gonna change now, after –”
“You’ve reached my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail.”
“Friggin’ answering machine. Look, Cas, you’re either in it so deep you think I’ll get hurt if I try to dig you out, or – or… fuck, Cas. I can’t do this again.”
“You’ve reached my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail.”
“You’ve reached my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail.”
“I can’t do it again, man. You can’t be de – gone again, you just can’t.”
“You’ve reached my voicemail. Make your voice… a mail.”
“I won’t survive that again.”
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