This fiction is written based on a tumblr picturepost i saw, where Castiel wrote Dean texts even after Dean died.

Castiel thought he would never be capable of feelings. He was an angel of Lord, a warrior, and he wasn't supposed to feel, ever. Emotions would slow him down, hold him back and make him doubt. For decades, Castiel kept to himself, being the good and obeying son of God.
That was until he met Dean Winchester and fell in love.

The broken, strong, loyal man he rose up from Hell and Alastair himself. The man who would do anything for his little brother, for his small family.

And Dean had fallen in love with him, and for years, they fought together Dean helping him through the steps of humanity after he fell from heaven for disobeying, after he was hunt after by his own brothers. They weren't perfect, but no one was.

That was before something happened, something no one could see coming. Castiel knew he wouldn't get answers anymore, but he still texted him.

Hello, Dean.

Castiel stared blankly at the roaming fire that greedily washed over his lover's body, eating him, making sure he could never come back again. This time, Castiel couldn't save him and it hurt him more than anything. Beside him Sam was doing his best to hide his tears, shoulders trembling from the effort until he grumbled and Castiel was there to catch him, lowering them both to the wet grass.

Sam's finger clenched around Castiel's coat, his tears wetting the old fabric as the heat from the fire radiated past them. Castiel's eyes were glassy, but the tears didn't spill. Dean showed him how to be brave till the end, and Castiel wasn't going to let him down.

Silence filled the cold air, humid orange showing the spot where a great hunter, lover and brother took his last journey to the other side.

Your funeral was just how you would have hoped it to be.

Castiel opened the door slowly, stepping in the small farmhouse and through the devil's trap on the floor. The air was still, furniture dusty, telling a tale of no one being there for weeks.

He walked around slowly, his fingers gracing the couch, the table. He could still feel Dean's presence, could still hear his laughter filling the air and all the empty corners. For one time, this had been their home. This small, red farmhouse in middle of nowhere.

Castiel stopped in front of a picture hung up on the wall, a picture of him and Dean on the day they bought the house. Dean was grinning at the camera, his arm slung over Castiel's shoulder who was wearing a shy smile, both their eyes shining same happiness, same hope.

He took the picture down with shaky hands, pulling it tightly against his chest and the first tears broke down, sliding down his chin and onto the picture.

After spending a couple of weeks living with Sam and Bobby, I went home. It feels odd calling it home when you´re not there, Dean.

Soft. Cold. Empty.

Castiel turned around on the bed, his arms tugged under his chin as he stared at the empty place beside him. The place Dean would be sleeping, looking straight back at him with fondness in his eyes.

They had shared many moments in this bed. Not only did they join on it every night, but they shared breakfast while the sun would shine perfectly on them, making Dean shine eerie aura and Castiel had caught his breath every time at the sight.

He´d wake in the morning to meet Dean's curious eyes, those lips pulled in their trademark smirk, his hair mused from sleep.

Castiel reached out, grabbing a tentative hold of the cold pillow, pulling it close and curled around it his heart aching so much he felt like dying. It still smelt like Dean's aftershave, still smelt like he did.

The bed smells of you. Sweat and oil.

Sam said nothing as Castiel appeared to his place a week later, just let the broken angel in and prepared the quest room for him. The house held too many memories, too much pain. Empty wall screaming at him, blaming for not being able to save Dean, for letting him die.

He couldn't sleep at nights, memories of Dean smiling, laughing, teasing and loving reeling before his eyes like a movie, a sadistic torture.

"Take a good, long look at this house. It´s ours now."
"Hey, Cas? Pasta or rise for dinner?"
"No no, don't drive-! ….At the tree."
"Don't you think it´s weird? An ex-angel and a human…"
"Our messed up family."
"Did you salt the windows? Good, then get your feathery ass in the bed."
"I-I love you too."

I couldn't cope with being stifled by the memories, Dean. I´m living with Sam now.

Castiel looked at the shiny, black metal in front of him. Dean had cherished this object more than anything. Called it 'baby'. Had sat on the front seat, singing in that gruffy voice, drumming the beat of AC/DC on the steering wheel and grinned at him.

Dean had even taught him how to drive her, after crashing few of Bobby's older cars. She was perfect, just standing there on Sam's yard. And suddenly Castiel was so angry, he was so angry at himself, angry at his father, angry to everything. He grabbed the steel pipe from the ground and without thinking, started to hit the car hard.

"Why him?" Castiel yelled slamming the rear window broken, the glass shattering on the ground like small diamonds.
"If you were mad at me, don't punish someone I love!" he shouted at the sky, grief and pain taking over as he slammed at the car repeatedly, tears spilling from his eyes as he broke the car like life had broken him.

He stopped only when his arms threatened to give out and he fell on his knees beside the broken car, glass and pieces of metal shattered around it uselessly as he threw the pipe away and screamed until his voice was hoarse.

Dean, I´m sorry…It was too much...I destroyed the Impala…I´m so sorry…I hope you still love me.

Castiel still saw nightmares about it. He was back in that abandoned factory, held back and could only scream and cry, begging to save Dean's life as he was torn apart before his eyes. He saw the hounds sink their teeth in Dean's flesh, see the blood spill out of the wounds, hear Dean's broken screams echo from the walls and the demon laugh at his agony.

Dean's eyes would be forever branded in his brains, the pain, fear and love in them as he kept his eyes on Castiel as he slowly died in front of him. The hounds left with the demon, and Castiel crawled to Dean, his lip quivering and tears sliding down as he lifted Dean's head on his lap carefully. Dean was hardly moving, his lips parted in pained breath that curled up in a small smile as he gazed up at Castiel.
"Hey, Cas…"
Castiel shushed him, holding him tightly, forbidding him of talking, telling him he´d be alright, that help was coming, he just had to hold on.

He had ignored the blood seeping through his jeans, soaking his clothes and skin, trying his best to put pressure on the open wounds to stop the bleeding.
Dean had smiled knowingly, taking Cas's hand on his own.
" 'm…not gonna make it this time.."
Castiel had cried, stopping him to speak like that, he was Dean Winchester, he survived hell, the wars, the misfortunates in his life. He couldn't give up!
Dean had shut him up with a small, weak kiss on Cas's lips, and he could feel them trembling, could feel them lose their warmth before he fell back, his eyes sliding close as life left his body, falling limp in Cas's arms.

Castiel would wake up screaming every night.

Why did you have to die, Dean? We were great…and then…

The pain was too much. He had been holding on for two months, and he couldn't do it anymore. He had died with Dean that day. He wasn't who he used to be, what Dean had made him be. He was an empty shell, a robot that functioned with batteries. He was…he was the same he used to be before he met Dean.

Sam was with Bobby, they always met up on Tuesday evenings to talk, their way to cope. Castiel couldn't do it. He felt like he had betrayed everyone, letting Dean die. It should have been him.

That´s why he found himself with the blade Dean always held with him, tracing the sigils on it with his fingers. He sat alone in their shared bedroom, and looked around himself. He couldn't do it on Sam's place, but this…this was his and Dean's home once. This was once filled with love and life and happy voices.

This would be perfect.

Dean, I love you so much and I miss you even more. I will be with you in mere moments.

Castiel could barely hold his eyes open, watching the crimson blood trail across the floor, blade held weakly in his other hand. He´d meet Dean soon. They would be together again. A small smile lingered on Cas's lips at the thought of seeing Dean again. Dean would shout at him, call him an idiot and be mad at coming so soon, for giving up, but then he´d break and they would hug and never ever let go again. They were a couple like that.

Castiel sighed his eyes sliding close and hold of the blade easing, and it clattered soundlessly on the floor. He once fell for Dean, now he was doing it again.
His life poured out of his body with the blood, the light from his phone shining in the darkness the two last words.

Goodbye, Dean.

And this is how you make yourself and favourites are acceptable!