Just to limit further confusion-this entire chapter Dean is referred to as He or Him. If it's a capital H, you know it's Dean. So there you go.

Cas stared down at his phone. School just ended and he was sitting on a bench debating whether to leave or not. He eagerly wanted Him to text him. To say he was coming home. He knew deep down that text wasn't going to arrive.

It was now the third week of His absence. Cas had sent him a letter begging him to come back and professing all his love. Then, the next week he had sent a care package. It was filled with CDs of Fall Out Boy and Paramore, one of His old AC/DC t-shirts, the angel wings he had worn on Halloween, homemade cookies that were of course stale and burnt, and the handwritten songs Cas wrote for him.

He sent that at the end of the second week and yet nothing in return. Not even a little text message. For all he knew, He was dead again.

After being aware of his surroundings, he realized that everyone had left. No student remained, only a few teachers eagerly trying to get home, who didn't even acknowledge his existence.

He finally strolled to his car and put the keys in ignition. He bowed his head and took in a deep breath. He was wearing His cologne and His t-shirt. People are starting to notice, but no one talks to him anyways. Even in group projects, they exclude him. Which is fine by him since he has no motivation to do any of schoolwork anymore.

He drove home in silence.

He came home to an empty house, of course. He threw his keys on the table and scoffed at the still-standing Christmas tree. It was nearly February. They were just too busy to take it down. Well, Hannah and Charlie were, Cas was just unmotivated. The tree reminded him of Him and the Christmas they had shared. Just like every time he looked in the mirror and could see the tattoo he had gotten because of Him.

Everything around Cas reminded him of Him. It wasn't healthy at all, he was constantly moping, didn't eat, didn't sleep, had no motivation to do anything at all. He was obsessed with the idea of Him.

He grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge and went into his bedroom. A place he was too familiar with by now. He slipped into bed and pulled his sheets over his head. He could smell Him there too.

He could feel the tears begin to well again, like most days. He remembered his first time. It was in these same sheets. It kind of made him want to build a fort again, but the motivation wasn't there. He peeked his head over the covers and stared at his desk. He saw a glimpse of the blue envelope.

Cas scrambled out of bed and picked up the huge math book to see it. The letter inscribed to Him. The letter that was for His death.

He ran his thumb over the print. Cas could remember writing the letter and just a few minutes after He had stood at his doorway. He was different or maybe He just seemed different after believing He was dead and gone forever.

Cas began writing a second letter, explaining what this letter was and how he was heartbroken when it had all happened. That he sat on the bridge's ledge staring over the edge contemplating on jumping too. How he came home and cried and cried for hours and finally, that he needed Dean to read it because he doesn't think he will ever see him again, that he is a complete wreck without him.

He wrote on the letter His address, the one he stared at and memorized for hours instead of studying for a history test the next day. He ran out the door and out of the house with a goal in mind. It was the blue post box for mail that was only a block or two away from his house.

As soon as he reached it, he pushed the blue envelope through the slot in a hurry just as a mailman came to collect the mail.

Cas slumped to the brick wall beside the blue box. He now had a glimmer of hope. He needed Him to read it. He just needed Him to....