Not Letting Go
1/1
“It’s time to bury this damn thing.”
Dean swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked in the trunk of his car. In its position that it’s been in the last few weeks, Castiel’s old dirt trench coat laid there. It had been untouched there, just lying there almost innocently.
“Are you sure?” Sam asked, a hint of sadness in his voice. Even though he wasn’t as close to Cas as his brother was, Sam still cared about the ex-angel and basically owed his whole life to him almost. “You don’t have to do this.”
Dean’s eyes bored into the tan fabric; it was almost as if his eyes were glued to it. “I have to Sam; it’s the only thing I can do to get rid of him.”
Dean had thought about this for days and day. The coat was the only real object he had that represented Cas and it was just too much for him to handle. Every time he opened up the trunk to get a weapon or to simply pack things up, the coat was waiting there and it was in instant reminder for Dean of all past things.
It just hurt too much.
“You know he could come back.”
Dean turned his head and looked Sam right in the eye. Despite the obvious height difference, the maddening glint in Dean’s eyes made up for the lost inches. “Don’t you dare say bullshit to me like that again. He’s been gone for almost two months and you expect him just to randomly show up? You must be out of your damn mind.”
Sam just stood there and started back at Dean. He wasn’t hurt or surprised by the words; on the contrary; he was actually expecting Dean to maybe throw a punch or two before simply walking away and never uttering a word about their current situation ever again. “I’m just trying to be optimistic. I can see you’re not appreciating it very much though. So I guess you won’t mind if I do this.” Sam quickly snatched the trench coat into his arms and held it up in his left hand while fumbling around in his pocket. When he brought out his right hand, he had a lighter in it. He flicked the light on and held it dangerously close to the coat.
“No!” Dean ran up to Sam and slapped the lighter out of his hand and hastily grabbed the coat and held it close to his chest. “You don’t do crazy shit like that.”
Sam cocked an eyebrow. “Well isn’t that exactly what you planned on doing?”
“No, I was going to bury it.”
“Like that makes a difference. You’re still going to get rid of it. My way was just as fine.” Sam could see that he was getting on Dean’s ever last nerve, but he was acting that way on purpose. He knew by being harsh, he was more likely to get a reaction out of Dean that his brother had been holding on for far too long. Everyday Sam could see it eating way at Dean and it just made him pity his brother and feel bad for him.
Dean just stood there helplessly. He didn’t even bother try to hide or cover his face as tears fell like raindrops from his olive eyes. The coat was cradled against his chest. “You don’t understand Sammy, you just fucking don’t.”
Even though Sam could relate to losing a loved one, he didn’t dare correct his brother. He let Dean have his moment. Sam gave his brother a sad smile before walking back to the passenger’s seat and climbing in. And as he looked through the rearview mirror, Sam saw Dean slowly sink onto the ground with his face buried into Cas’ old trench coat.
Dean swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked in the trunk of his car. In its position that it’s been in the last few weeks, Castiel’s old dirt trench coat laid there. It had been untouched there, just lying there almost innocently.
“Are you sure?” Sam asked, a hint of sadness in his voice. Even though he wasn’t as close to Cas as his brother was, Sam still cared about the ex-angel and basically owed his whole life to him almost. “You don’t have to do this.”
Dean’s eyes bored into the tan fabric; it was almost as if his eyes were glued to it. “I have to Sam; it’s the only thing I can do to get rid of him.”
Dean had thought about this for days and day. The coat was the only real object he had that represented Cas and it was just too much for him to handle. Every time he opened up the trunk to get a weapon or to simply pack things up, the coat was waiting there and it was in instant reminder for Dean of all past things.
It just hurt too much.
“You know he could come back.”
Dean turned his head and looked Sam right in the eye. Despite the obvious height difference, the maddening glint in Dean’s eyes made up for the lost inches. “Don’t you dare say bullshit to me like that again. He’s been gone for almost two months and you expect him just to randomly show up? You must be out of your damn mind.”
Sam just stood there and started back at Dean. He wasn’t hurt or surprised by the words; on the contrary; he was actually expecting Dean to maybe throw a punch or two before simply walking away and never uttering a word about their current situation ever again. “I’m just trying to be optimistic. I can see you’re not appreciating it very much though. So I guess you won’t mind if I do this.” Sam quickly snatched the trench coat into his arms and held it up in his left hand while fumbling around in his pocket. When he brought out his right hand, he had a lighter in it. He flicked the light on and held it dangerously close to the coat.
“No!” Dean ran up to Sam and slapped the lighter out of his hand and hastily grabbed the coat and held it close to his chest. “You don’t do crazy shit like that.”
Sam cocked an eyebrow. “Well isn’t that exactly what you planned on doing?”
“No, I was going to bury it.”
“Like that makes a difference. You’re still going to get rid of it. My way was just as fine.” Sam could see that he was getting on Dean’s ever last nerve, but he was acting that way on purpose. He knew by being harsh, he was more likely to get a reaction out of Dean that his brother had been holding on for far too long. Everyday Sam could see it eating way at Dean and it just made him pity his brother and feel bad for him.
Dean just stood there helplessly. He didn’t even bother try to hide or cover his face as tears fell like raindrops from his olive eyes. The coat was cradled against his chest. “You don’t understand Sammy, you just fucking don’t.”
Even though Sam could relate to losing a loved one, he didn’t dare correct his brother. He let Dean have his moment. Sam gave his brother a sad smile before walking back to the passenger’s seat and climbing in. And as he looked through the rearview mirror, Sam saw Dean slowly sink onto the ground with his face buried into Cas’ old trench coat.