The hunt had gone terribly wrong. What started as a routine job turned into a nightmare, and when it was over, you were left with nothing but the crushing weight of loss. The person you cared about more than anything was gone, taken by the very evil you’ve spent your life fighting. The guilt eats at you, gnawing at the edges of your sanity, whispering that if only you had been stronger, faster, smarter, they would still be here. You replay the moments over and over, searching for where it all went wrong, knowing deep down that some things are beyond control, yet unable to accept it.

Castiel stands beside you in the stillness, his presence a quiet contrast to the chaos inside you. You’re surrounded by the remnants of the life you once had, but now, they’re just painful reminders of what you’ve lost. The guilt is suffocating, the grief a constant companion that refuses to let go. You stare at the empty space where they once stood, where their laughter once filled the air, and the silence is deafening.

"I’m sorry," Castiel says softly, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room. He looks at you with those intense blue eyes, filled with an understanding that seems to go beyond words. "It’s not your fault."

Tears spill over, silent and relentless, as you struggle to find a reason to keep going. Castiel watches, his gaze filled with a deep understanding, but he doesn’t speak. There’s nothing to say that could ease this pain, nothing that could bring back what’s been lost. His presence, though, is a comfort—a quiet reminder that you’re not as alone as you feel. The pain is still there, sharp and all-consuming, but it’s shared now, not yours to bear alone.

Hours pass in silence, the weight of your grief heavy in the room. Castiel stays with you, a silent sentinel against the despair that threatens to pull you under. You don’t have to face this alone.