He has no body to bury, nor ashes to burn. His angel is gone.
Dean needs to go find Sam and Jack. Needs to meet up with them and form some sort of plan to fight Chuck. If that’s even possible now.
He gets into his car, good ol’ Baby who’s always been there ever since he can remember. His eyes are puffy and he feels a headache building behind his eyes. He drives and it’s only once he’s there does Dean know where he is.
He’s at a meadow, the one with tall green grass and a windmill. The very same one he sprinkled Cas’ ashes over not so long ago. Cas... Mindlessly, he walks out into the middle of the grass, barely hearing it crunch underfoot. From there, he can see an overgrown garden, a cluster of green vines and leaves, and the brook, now barely a trickle. Nevertheless, it’s peaceful. Just as he first found it less than two years ago.
The grass calls to him, a barely-there whisper telling him to lay down. He does, the grass a cool pillow under his head. Dean blinks, once, twice, three times. Then the tears fall once again, and he curls into ball, trying to contain the anguish within him. He feels comforted, just almost, but he also mourns the loss of a home that he will never have.
inspired by @calamitysong's post
