#prayers whispered in a meadow to a windmill

[torturedpoetemotions]

One more miracle, Cas. Please. For me.

- Dean Winchester, probably

#prayers whispered in a meadow to a windmill #supernatural #destiel #nov 5th

[ledzeppelinmixtape]

when he can finally say something, he doesn't stop. he's starts talking with small whispers of "im so sorry" as he grinds up castiel's bones to ash. as he gently places those ashes in a box. "one last ride" he says as he places the box in the passenger seat of the impala. he can't bring himself to turn on the radio, but he doesn't want to ride in silence. so he talks. he talks and talks and talks like cas is right next to him, living and breathing, like it's just any other day. he tells cas stories he's told him a hundred times before, and he tells cas stories no one's ever heard. he gets on the road, still talking to cas. he doesn't know where they're going yet, but that's fine. he just keeps driving, keeps talking.

he steadies the box as he takes a turn onto a road that divides a large meadow. the sun is low in the sky, pinks and orange streak across the clouds. the tall grass rolls like waves in the breeze, the air is clear and fresh and pure. he moves slowly through the meadow, stopping when he spots an old windmill. "that looks like a good place" he says as he puts the car in park. he's careful when removing the box from the passenger seat, making sure it's secured tightly. he holds the box with both hands as he walks through the tall wispy grasses, taking his time, still talking to cas.

he finally finds the right spot to let cas go. a large patch of wild blackberries speckle the ground beneath the windmill. a small brook cuts through the section of land, a quiet bubble here and there sings harmonies with the wind and the trees and the occasional squeak of the windmill. "yeah, this is it" he says to cas. he takes one last minute to sit. to hold. to mourn. to pray. "okay, you ready man?" he asks, knowing he won't get an answer. he flips the hook-lock on the box, opening it slowly-- a dry, achy sob escaping his chest when he sees the ashes again. he doesn't want to cry; hell, he couldn't cry anymore if he tried.

he holds up the box in the right position, and as if it were planned, a strong breeze rolls through the meadow and takes castiel with it. he watches the grey ash plume from the box, watches it float through the air and fall within the blackberries. "gonna miss you" he says, voice cracking in grief. he tips the box over, watching the last of cas float around him. "thank you. for everything" he says through the ache in his chest.

he closes the box, but he doesn't leave. not yet. he can't bring himself to move. so he stands there, in silence, grief wailing at the inside of his ribcage. he says one last silent, begging prayer to whoever is listening. "i love you" he says in a whisper. with a deep breath and a rough scrub of his face, he's finally able to move. he clambers through the grass and into the car, placing the now empty box back into the passenger seat.

"see you later, cas" dean says to the meadow that tenderly holds castiel, to the windmill that keeps him company, to the brook that sings to him through his final slumber.

dean didn't have much to say after that.

#deancas #destiel #supernatural #.....okay so maybe im not over it yet. #i had been trying to write this since this shit began but uh me bad at words :) #anyway #i hurt myself <3 hope you enjoy #disclaimer i most CERTAINLY am not a writer. i hate writing but man this shit inspired me #mine #ficlet #dean winchester #castiel