The war room in the bunker is dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the map table’s soft glow. Castiel sits at the far end, his posture stiff, his gaze distant. The argument from earlier replays in your mind, the tension between you still thick and unresolved. You approach him slowly, your heart heavy with the weight of the unspoken words between you. “Cas,” you begin, your voice soft, “I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand. I never want us to be on opposite sides like that.”

Castiel’s gaze remains fixed on some point in the distance, his expression unreadable. The silence between you is thick, almost tangible, and it hurts more than any harsh words ever could. “I was scared, okay?” you admit, trying to reach him. “Scared that I might lose you. We’ve been through so much, and I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you. That’s why I said what I said. It wasn’t to hurt you.”

He finally looks at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and something else—something you can’t quite place. But he doesn’t speak, and the silence stretches on, heavy with all the things left unsaid. “We’ve always been a team, Cas. We’ve faced down the worst the world has to offer, and we’ve done it together. I don’t want this to come between us. Can’t we just talk about what happened?”

Castiel stands slowly, his movements deliberate, as if weighed down by something unseen. He looks at you for a long moment, as if searching for the right words, but in the end, he only says, “I need to go.” His voice is quiet, almost a whisper, but the finality in it is unmistakable. With a flutter of wings, he’s gone, leaving you alone in the war room, the echo of his departure ringing in your ears. The room feels emptier than ever, the space between you and Castiel now a chasm that seems impossible to bridge.