Colors //Destiel Fanfic

Thirty Four

I'm Not Saying Stick Around, But Stick Around

A/N on the bottom ....
QOTD: Which ship should I write about for my new story ????
ENJOY !

70 Years Later...
Castiel watched as Dean was on the verge of dying. He was sitting on an old rocking chair that he had made many years ago when his limbs were still working. Dean rocked back and forth and smiled as he watched the bright yellow sun kiss the horizon while the sky surrounds them in a orange/pinkish color. He glanced at the picture frame next to the window sill and gently stroked its edges. He recognized his younger brother standing next to him in a happy scenery. The door opened and Dean turned his head.

"Sammy is that you?" Sam died three years ago from leukemia but due to Dean's alzheimers, he expected his brother to walk in his room and start complaining about the nasty pudding cups.

"No, Mr. Winchester. It's just me, Nurse Reana. I'm just here to make sure you took your medications."

Dean nodded and popped his pills in his mouth and drank from his paper cup. The nurse picked up the half-empty cup and walked backed towards the door.

"Oh, nurse?" Dean called before she shut the door.

"Yes, Mr. Winchester?"

"When you see my brother Sam, tell him I called him a bitch."

The nurse gave out a weak laugh and then closed the door. Dean spat out his pills and looked back at the window. He closed his eyes and continued to rock back and forth as he smiled while waiting for his peaceful death to come.

When Dean opened his eyes, he was twelve years old and sitting on the couch with his little brother Sam, fighting over the TV remote. He was in heaven.

—

Castiel watched as Dean's body became an empty vessel. He knew Dean was happy wherever he went and he was glad that he was able to die peacefully and happy.

Once Dean was breathed his last breath on Earth, Castiel's plan had begun.

He took out many tiny pieces of wood from his wooden bench and stripped them into tinnier pieces so they look like tooth picks. He made about a couple hundreds and stuffed them in various pockets on his dirty, torn up trenchcoat. His clothes looked the way they were because of the many punishments Naomi gave him for his numerous failed attempts to escape. Castiel started pounding the walls of his cell, causing a ruckus, and then a security guard showed up.

"What do you think you're bloody doing?! Knock it off before I call Naomi this instant!" The guard yelled.

"I need to speak with Naomi." Castiel said weakly after he had stopped banging the walls.

"What do you want now? Is this another one of your escape plan so you can snog with your mundane boyfriend? Give it up, lad, he doesn't even remember you."

Castiel ignored the guard's words and continued on with his mission.

"I just need to talk to Naomi. It's about Gabriel."

In the cell next to Castiel's, Gabriel shot his head up. He heard his name and quickly made his way to the bars of his cell and listened to their conversation. The guard saw Gabriel and then went back to Castiel.