Drinking, Driving and Drafting

Dean Winchester cracks after Castiel dies and spends months driving to states he doesn't know a thing about, drinking anything he can, and drafting letters that he'll never get a chance to send.


12. XII


My letters are getting shorter and shorter, I don't know what to say anymore. Sam and I haven't been on a hunt since you left but he keeps trying to take my mind off you. Fuck it, Cas. We're both going to be dead some day but who gives two shits about anything. You're gone, Bobby's gone, both my parents are dead, Ellen, Jo, Chuck. Everyone I have ever cared about has died, and their blood is on my hands. Even Sam and my fucking car have died at some point in this shit world. Cas, for fucks sake I miss you. I motherfucking miss you.

                                                                                           Come back to me, 


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