A/N: Hi guys! Welcome to my brand new story inspired by the latest episode 7.02 Hello Cruel World. If you haven't seen it yet, A) You don't know what you're missing (tears galore), and B) This story contains a huge spoiler, so if you don't want to be spoiled, watch the episode before reading this! I hope you enjoy and please review with your comments (they inspire me).
Disclaimer: No I do not own Supernatural, if I did I would not have spent the past two weeks crying…
Summary: Why were there no wing marks scorched into the water? In his grief this question plagues Dean. Wing marks meant that the angel was dead, but if there were no marks than did that mean…..?
Chapter one: Of Floating Trench coats and Missing Wings
The ride back was quiet, Dean was grateful for that, he couldn't handle Bobby's hallow words of reassurance, or his attempts at making him feel better; because in reality, nothing would ever be better ever again. He heard Sam's stifled moaning coming from the backseat, his unconscious battling with torturous memories, as the wall came crashing down. He can't deal with this, he doesn't know how he is going to deal with this, but for now, as long as he focuses on driving, and nothing else, he can pretend that none of this had ever happened.
"It's too damn quiet in here" Bobby remarks from his spot in the passenger's seat, casting a worried look at Dean, before flicking on the Impala's radio. Instantly, the opening chords of Metallica's "Enter Sandman" fill the silence. A song that Dean generally used for times of anxiety, but today, instead of filling him with calm oblivion, it attacked him with a horrible analogy. He used to visit me in my dreams, Dean remembered, memories that he wanted, no strike that, needed to suppress. With a sharp motion he shut the radio off, filling the impala with silence once again.
"It'll wake Sam" he grunted in response to Bobby's questioning glance, not even turning to look at him. He kept his eyes peeled to the road in front of him, not daring himself to look anywhere else, let alone in the direction of the bundle he held next to him. The ride back to Bobby's took excruciatingly long, though he ignored the speed limit the entire journey. When he finally pulled in, what had been early morning was replaced by the growing dim of twilight. Bobby hopped out of the car, and rushed over to open the back door, shaking Sam to stir him from his fitful sleep. Sam groaned wearily, opening his eyes slightly, as Bobby helped him out of the car, but Dean made no motion to follow.
"You coming Dean?" Bobby asked expectantly looking carefully at Dean's prone form.
"In a few minutes Bobby" Dean replied after a beat, unmoving, still staring blankly ahead. Bobby opened his mouth, as if to say something, but shrugged it off after a thought. Dean waited as he heard Bobby slowly walk Sam to the house, letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, when he heard the door slam shut behind them. Finally they were gone he thought to himself, and just in time too, he didn't know how much longer he could of kept it together. He had to be composed, he had to for Sammy's sake. With Sam losing his marbles, and the Leviathan wreaking havoc, Dean didn't have the luxury of losing it. No, he had to keep his marbles locked tightly in a lead box.
He gingerly groped for the bundle which he placed next to him, fingers coming into contact with slowly drying fabric. The trench coat felt heavy in his hands, heavier than it had ever seen when placed on Cas' body. He gripped it in his hands tightly, as though it were a lifeline to the angel himself.
"Cas you promised that you'd redeem yourself to me, you looked me in the eyes and swore, and I believed you!" He took a deep breath and continued his rant, "in what way is becoming a Leviathan's bitch, and exploding in the water, a making it up to me?" He looked up skyward, though all he could see was the Impala's ceiling. "You can't leave me Cas, I need you" his eyes closed as he admitted this. "You-you can't just create this mess, and then leave me to deal with it! You're my brother, you're an honorary Winchester, and the one thing Winchester's don't do is stay dead!" He whispered the last part, "please Castiel" in a broken, fractured hush, and let it echo throughout the Impala, before fading away into silence.
Dean lay with his head in the coat, using it to muffle the sounds of his grief. The damp fabric absorbing any renegade tears which fell down his cheeks.
"Cas you sonofabitch" Dean yelled, piercing the Impala's silence. "You can't die like this, you can't go out like this!" He punched the steering wheel with one hand harshly, the other still clutching the coat. "So what you exploded in the water? That doesn't make sense Cas, you're supposed to burn wings into the ground…..I'm supposed to see wings!" He furiously beat away the tears that were starting to pool in his eyes. His eyes glazed over as the last moments with his brother flashed through his head.
Castiel pushing him away, warning him to get away from the Leviathan. Then that grotesque, horrifying smile marring the angel's face. That smile would haunt Dean's nightmares, he was sure of it. When the Leviathans started oozing out of Cas, Dean knew it was going to blow. The Leviathan had slowly ambled to the reservoir, and once fully submerged, an explosion of black ooze stained the water, but no angel had floated to the surface, and no heavenly wings had been scorched into the Earth.
"God damnit Cas, why weren't there any wings?" He asked the silence softly, almost expecting him to pop up in the passenger's seat and give him a heart attack. He knew it was ridiculous, that probably wings couldn't scorch into liquid, but still….angels were powerful creatures, if anyone could burn water, Castiel could, so then the question remained for Dean; "why weren't there any wings?"
A/N: Ohhh what will happen next? I don't know but you can be sure that Bobby wont be as receptive to this line of thinking as Dean is….I sense conflict! Please review, it inspires me to write faster!