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.


13. XIII

Dear Cas,

You've been dead two and a half months today. It's probably close to 4 am and Sam's sleeping but it‘s been over two months since I lost you. Watched you bleed out in my arms. You, just gone. Like words shouted into the wind. For fucks sake, Cas, I'm writing goddamn poetry here.

I feel like a zombie. I don't sleep anymore, I can't eat without throwing up almost everything. I am fucked up, Cas. 

Jesus Christ, where the hell are you? Aren't angels supposed to stay in heaven after they die? I have called on every single angel I know the name of. And every other one too. None answered. Son of a bitch, Cas. Get your ass out of the dead and come back to me. 

                                                                                               Love you,


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