agentsarahwalker:

truedeer:

and in passing, dean thinks he’s found castiel again. sam is watching him from across the street, wondering if he should stop him, if he should say, dean, you know that isn’t him. for years, dean’s been curling his fingers around shoulders that belong to other men, his voice trembling and painfully hopeful — cas.

but it never is. today the man under the black umbrella turns around and his eyes are brown and his hair is beginning to grey. sorry, dean mutters, and marches back across the street, back to sam. not him. sam nods and slides into the passenger seat. it’s never him.

don’t stop, is all sam offers, because he doesn’t want dean to give up hope. and secretly, sam doesn’t want to, either. between the two of them, he wonders if there’s enough hope to call castiel back to them, if only for a moment. just to see his face. they’d know it even if it was another, even if it wasn’t jimmy. dean would always know. sam thinks they’d be thankful for anything these days. 

but that doesn’t stop dean from trailing after every stranger in a trenchcoat, or catching every pair of blue eyes he sees, hoping for that bit of something else that always made castiel exactly what he was.

#get the hell away from me

(Source: c0pz, via bunnyford)