Supernatural One Shots

I Have Loved You For A Thousand Years And I Will Love You For A Thousand More

Cas looked up at the holographic blue sky. Tears pooled in his eyes. No. Not today. Not when this kid wouldn't leave him alone. He shook his head and looked down at the kid who had insisted on following him.

"Seriously, where are your parents?" His voice sounded scratchy and old to his own ears.

The kid just blinked his green eyes at him.

"Damnit," he rubbed his hand down his face.

The kid flicked him.

"What the hell? What was that for?" Cas glared at the kid.

The kid glared right back and held up two fingers.

"Christ. You have to talk if you want me to understand you."

The kid held up another finger before he shrugged and sat on the sidewalk. His long brown hair swooping down over his eyes.

Cas sighed and sat next to him, "I guess we both have no idea how to communicate."

The kid leaned against him. Cas glances down at him. There was too much familiarity to the kid. That hair was as floppy and endearing as Sam Winchester's. And those eyes could have been takin right out of Dean Winchester's dead body for how familiar they were. Than again Dean Winchester's body had been burned well over three hundred years ago so the likelihood of that was low.

———

Over the last three hundred years humanity had come together in strange ways and split in even more. There were now colonies on the moon and Mars. More people lived off the the Earth nowadays than on it. The supernatural had been practically eradicated and Heaven and Hell's influence had disappeared.

Things had settled into a kind of peace Cas wasn't sure he liked. He'd once been a warrior, built for the battlefield. He wasn't meant to live peacefully. He kept on living though. He kept watch over the humans. Not that he could do much to stop the destruction they caused themselves or all things supernatural.

The humans had established their first outer space colony before world war three erupted. The death had been horrifying. Chaos ruled and the only hope through it all was the chance to exist off the face of the humans' home planet. Most who could afford it escaped to space. Space X and other companies thrived, they were by far the richest companies in the solar system, running monopolies on everything a human needed to survive in space.

The war came to an end when the death toll had reached the billions and the air was so thick with radiation it was killing more people than the bombs. Those left on Earth worked to establish colonies that kept out as much radiation as possible and in these colonies Castiel found humanity was not completely gone. Each day the people would work together and suddenly there were no lines. No walls, no races, or countries. Castiel had watched the colonies evolve, their economies and infrastructure built up from the ground.

The outside world has thrived without humans. It was a whole new world, one where skyscrapers were covered in vines and trees grew through buildings. Animals were free to roam. Whole ecosystems recovered and new ones emerged.

And Castiel was the only one who lasted through it all. He had no power anymore but he didn't age, didn't get sick, didn't get the sweet relief of death. He sometimes wondered if this was one final cosmic joke for Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, Death, and the Empty. If his eternal tie to the people he'd fallen for was his damnation. He could watch over the humans but not those who meant the most to him. Not the people who taught him what it meant to be human.

No, the Winchesters, and all who stood with them were gone, not a trace of them to be found. Any clothes Castiel had once had from them were long ago worn to the point where they resembled Swiss cheese more than clothes. The bunker had been covered in radiation last time Castiel had seen it, inside the old cars, books, lore, weapons, and other gear that hadn't seen the light of day since Dean and Sam Winchester finally was laid to rest as they deserved. Even Castiel's memories of them were fading. He could swear Dean had the brightest green eyes, always bursting with emotion, but he couldn't picture them quite right no matter how hard he tried.

Castiel, the last of Hunters. The fallen angel. The final Winchester.