After I saw destiel fanart by ficklelittletwister (based on 9.23 episode, sort of) I realized that when Sam put Dean's body to the bed, Dean's face wasnt covered in blood, means that Sam cleaned it. It must be hard for him. And now I cant stop thinking if it was Cas who did that.
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I believe it’s gonna be something heavy if it happened that way… and I reckon it also needed both more words and no words at the same time… dang it…the words I used don’t mince… why anonnn!?
🥺🥺🥺 #hurt #hope
Guess what? He’s dead too.
How wicked a voice of an angel could turn to be, Castiel will never understand. His Father must've felt the same when Lucifer slandered epitaphs to God's beloved creations.
An hour passed, or two.
All was still and silent outside the hidden shelter when Castiel arrived at the Bunker in the dead of the night.
It was not the same within its walls however, for the moment the angel opens the familiar heavy door, his sensitive ears catch the tiniest sound of someone crying. A desolate sound coming from someone so dear and close.
He found them in the middle of the corridor lit with the turn up lamps.
Sam kneeling on the floor with legs crushed beneath him, his broad shoulder shaking as he struggles to breathe. On his arm clings an unmoving figure. The angel holds himself fast. No time for yourself, he says.
He walks to Sam whose sobbing will be in the angel’s nightmare as he draws closer. Sam is crying, his frame hunching over the body lying on the floor, dead.
He’s dead too.
The Righteous man.
The name registers in his head, but he did not say it.
Sam is not just crying, it’s a plea of a man drained of all hope. The angel grasps his shoulders for support, murmurs something soothing and gentle. It takes a while. Sam says he wants to do it, but his body won’t let him when the angel stood back to watch. Sam didn’t move. How could he?
“Come on, Sam. I will do it.”
Breathing hitching, Sam staggers to stand up. He didn’t make it far. A few steps to the nearest wall and he is sliding down the cold tiles of the floor, drowning himself in misery, clamping his hands over his mouth to stop whatever dreadful sound wants to slip out. Castiel takes the hands away, shaking his head once reproachfully when he meets the wet eyes, the angel’s heart sinking at the streak of tears on the kind face.
Sam didn’t deserve this.
“D-Dean—he’s…!” he could barely swallow.
Castiel slightly cringes at the name before he places a hand on the trembling shoulder and squeezes it tight. He’s never wanted to see Sam Winchester broken again as a result of a test of time.
“It’s okay.” He assures the air, unable to reach either hearts.
Sam buries his face on his knees, his long fingers running on the scalps of his hair.
The angel watches him for some time. Stayed beside him till he can make sure Sam knows he’s here. That he didn’t have to be alone. That someone’s beside him in this time of grieving. He won’t be alone.
When at last, Sam’ sobs stifled a little after an hour, the angel knows it’s time for him to do his take.
He attempts to straighten his expression, attempts to hide his grief because if he let the crushing defeat to drown him too, he would be no use to Sam. No use here at all… so he turns.
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Sorryyy for the length 🥺