(warning for torture and like blood and violence and such hahah i’m terrible) ((also warning for typos because i’m lazy hahah sorry i suck)
Cas refused to call Sam for a ride. He would walk home- no, not home anymore. If it ever was home. Cas laughed bitterly to himself. How had he been so stupid? This was so typical of him, trusting people and ruining everything, yet again. The only difference between this time and last was the fact that the only person who got hurt was himself.
The street was empty, the night crisp. Cas hated the night for being so perfect when he was anything but. The stars were shining brightly, mocking him. He was stuck on this sidewalk with these feelings he couldn’t ignore. He trudged along, staring at his feet. He hated his feet for being stuck on the ground. He hated that he couldn’t fly, that all he could do was walk. It was so inconvenient, so inefficient, so… human. He sighed, the situation seemed so familiar to those first three months of humanity. He felt the hollowness and the uselessness more now than he had in months. Cas didn’t think he would ever have to feel this way again, he thought Dean would take those feelings away forever. He had trusted Dean to fill his empty spaces with love, to ease the aching loneliness left by his fall, his separation from his family. But all Dean had done was used him. Castiel truly had no one.
Castiel stepped on something while he was lost in thought. He peered down and saw a set of keys. Keys that looked very familiar. He stooped and picked them up. This was Dean’s keyring. There was the key to the Impala and the key to the bunker with the Men of Letters insignia engraved in it. Cas looked up the street, searching for the Impala. Sure enough, there it was.
Cas rushed to the Impala. He peered inside, looking for some kind of answer. All he could see was a bouquet of, what were those, daffodils? Dean had bought him daffodils. His heart clenched, so Dean hadn’t abandoned him after all, this date wasn’t a set up. But, where was Dean? He looked down at the sidewalk, there were a couple of small, dark splotches next to the passenger side door of the Impala. The relief Cas had felt drained from him. Tendrils of worry wrapped around his heart. He reached in his pocket for his phone to call Sam, but it was nowhere to be found. He searched the other pocket and the pockets of his pants. He’d left his phone back at the restaurant. “You have got to be kidding me, for fuck’s sake,” Cas muttered, using one of the many phrases he had adopted from Dean. Cas broke into a run.
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