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.


2. II


It's been two days since I wrote my first letter. I feel empty now. I know you'll never read these but I don't care. 

I can't do fucking anything. I feel like I've lost everything. It's like I've lost my will to live. Sam has to force me to eat. I've lost so much. Jesus Cas, my entire fucking family is dead, for fucks sake even Sam's died. I am a hunter. I don't even know what that means. Sam and I hunt freaking monsters. This isn't a life, this is something some crazy old guy would dream up. I can't even say how much I hate doing this. At least Sam and I have somewhere to come back to now instead of some nasty motel room. But it doesn't feel right without you. You were my fucking anchor Cas, you kept me alive and okay. I miss you so much.

Sam is worried about me. He keeps walking past my door and pausing. I can hear him pacing around the hallway while I sit and write. He doesn't know about these letters. Hopefully he never will. He doesn't need to know about me. 


                                                             Love you,


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