Don't Leave, Stay

It is snowing outside, very lightly, hardly lying. Just enough to give it that crisp winter chill. Castiel breathes the air in and exhales a long stream of vapor. He’s never really been in snow before and finds that he enjoys it. Sadly, he doesn’t plan to be around much longer to experience it much more.

He’s standing outside the Winchester’s motel room and walks up to the closed window. He can sense them in there, can feel their worry and unease. It slips into him and curls around his bones. Castiel wishes that he could just take it all away from them and keep it in himself; he doesn’t want them to feel this way. He wants them to have peace. That’s why he must go.

After much thought, he couldn’t figure out a good place to do it. He figured that he’d just get it over with right then and there. After all, they would soon find him anyway, so what was the point of trying to hide? It would cause Dean more pain if he was left to think that Castiel was still out there somewhere, doing God knows what.

Dean. Dean, Dean, Dean.

That man changed his life. Over and over again. As he stands out in the corner of the parking lot he thinks of the man who had become his reason, his cause, his love. Whatever he chose to do, he would hurt him in the end. There was no way around it; he could both stay and become Naomi’s slave which would result in betrayal of the Winchester’s or he could just end it and go to limbo where he belonged. Back down in the Heaven of monsters. He decided that the latter would be better.

Castiel backs away from the Winchester’s window and stands in the corner where the motel walls create an L shape. Slowly he lets his angel sword fall from his sleeve and grips it tightly in one hand. Castiel closes his eyes and feels tears roll down his cheeks and his breathe is coming faster. He raises his arm and points the sword towards himself, whispers “Goodbye, Winchesters” and goes to plunge the sword into his body-

When he is startled by a strangled cry of “No!” he jumps, the sword jutting inward and slicing a line from his breast to his naval. Blood and grace begin to flow from him as he slides down the wall. His vision begins to cloud and he can feel blood leaking from his lips and dripping onto his shirt. Castiel coughs and spits blood onto the cold concrete and looks up to see Dean running towards him, face stricken with many emotions he cannot process. Just as Dean reaches him and begins to scream, Castiel blacks out.