Youth Spell

Chapter 1

Dear Cas,

Dean wrote on the piece of paper he had placed on his table. It had been two days since Cas died.

Dean's phone rang beside him for the millionth time, and he watched it go to voicemail. It was Sam, "Hey, I know you're not- we're worried about you. Please just -", Dean cut it off.

Since Cas' funeral, Dean went to Balthazar's to get some of Cas' stuff, but reading the letter Cas had left him, he felt like it was his fault, that he had to answer Cas and most importantly, himself. But the problem was, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't manage to write a single letter. He felt he had so much to say, but part of him worried that he had nothing to say.

In the two days he spent at Balthazar's, he only got up for two things; bathroom duty, and for food and drink. And by food and drink, one could hear his liver screaming from a mile away. He didn't even answer his phone in those two days, and nobody showed up at the house either, which probably was a good thing because he wouldn't have let them in anyway.

As Dean heard Sam's message, he finally snapped. He crumpled the paper and threw it, and flung his phone and pen on to the ground and watched it break. He stood up and stepped on them till after the small parts become a million pieces. "DAMMIT CAS!", he cried as tears fell from his eyes. They were not tears of sadness or grief, they were for anger. He was mad at Cas and even more at himself.

He stepped off and made his way to Cas' room, violently throwing anything in his way, including trying to break the wall, multiple times.

In the room, he opened the closet doors and looked around. Spotting the beige trench coat he smiled and touched it. It still smelled of Cas. Dean's vision blurred with tears that never fell down his cheeks. Dean blinked the tears and looked around. At the top of a shelf, he saw a small box. he brought it down and  placed it on the bed. As he opened it, the first thing that caught his eye was the beach pictures Cas had gotten developed after they split. 

Young Cas, in his twenties, looked the very picture of health, and adorable as fuck. Cas smiled at the camera as Dean took the photo. Cas' eyes were squished, lined by his eyelashes, his bright smile pierced through the candid. 'Even as a candid, he was perfect', Dean smiled at the picture. All he wished then was that Cas would spring out of some hole in the ceiling and say it was a prank, or that he would wake up right next to him. But that never happened.

Going through the pictures, and his memories along with it, Dean just wanted to die. He even got up once to look down a window in the room, deciding whether he could salvage up enough courage to make the jump. "It's only one step, I-", he shouted at himself.

But he turned around and made his way back to the box. He sat down and continued to look through; every photo, every note Cas had, burnt through his soul, as his eyes welled up. Suddenly, he noticed a book, at the very end of the box. It was locked. Dean smiled, "huh, I didn't know he kept a diary, o- or a journal?". He debated if he should open it, as he felt Cas may not have wanted him to read it, after all, it was locked.

After a long struggle with his curiosity, Dean decided get up and leave the diary. But as he walked towards the door with the box, he turned around. "I need to know how much I screwed up without realizing it, how much I hurt him", he spoke up, his voice trembling. As if he was trying to convince himself that it was the right thing to do. 

So, he went to the book where he left it, and after hovering over it, he decided to break the lock. He picked up the book and went to look for something to break the lock with. As he picked the book up, a paper fell out of it. 

It read, 'Dean, if you are reading this, that means I couldn't protect the journals. This only means that I'm not in the world, that I'm dead, or that you remembered. If  I'm dead, and you don't know what I'm saying, please just burn the books. Trust me, please Dean. This is what's best for you, and believe it or not, this was your choice. So just burn them, the journals, and DO NOT read them whatever you do. 

Also, if I truly am gone, just know, I'll be fine, I promise,  and I'll look after you. Until we meet again...

Love,

Cas'

But Dean never saw it. Instead, he went to the kitchen, and fished out a wooden rolling pin. "This'll do", he said. And 'BANG!', he placed the books and broke the lock. When he opened it, he saw that it was actually two books, one way thicker than the other, tied together in one leather cover. He removed the cover and flipped the books to see the names written on them. He was expecting to see 'Cas' and his squiggly writing inside. But he saw something else.

The journals read, 'John Winchester', and, 'Dean'.