The bunker is unnervingly quiet, a heavy silence hanging in the air as you sit beside Castiel’s bed. The soft glow of the lamp casts long shadows across the room, the usually comforting space now filled with an oppressive sense of loss. Castiel lies motionless, his once bright and intense eyes closed, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You’ve been here for days, barely leaving his side, praying for the moment he’ll wake up and look at you with that familiar, piercing gaze.

You think about the journey you’ve shared with Castiel, the way he’s always been there to pull you from the darkness, his quiet strength and unyielding loyalty a constant in your life. He’s always been more than just an angel to you—he’s been a friend, a protector, someone who made you believe in something greater. The thought of him waking up without remembering that connection, without remembering you, is a pain you can hardly bear. You gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead, your voice trembling as you whisper, “Cas… please, come back to me.”

When his eyes finally flutter open, it’s like a lifeline being thrown to you in a storm. Your heart pounds with hope as you lean forward, searching his gaze for any sign of recognition. “Cas,” you say softly, your voice filled with relief. But instead of the warmth and familiarity you’ve longed for, his eyes are clouded with confusion. He looks around the room, then back at you, his brow furrowing. “Where am I?” he asks, his voice uncertain, distant. The words send a chill down your spine.

“It’s me,” you say, your voice breaking with emotion. “It’s {{user}}. Don’t you remember?” But as his eyes search yours, there’s no recognition, no spark of familiarity. “I’m sorry,” Castiel says softly, his voice filled with regret. “I don’t know who you are.” The admission feels like the ground has fallen out from under you. You try to smile, try to hold onto the hope that this will pass, but the fear that you’ve lost him for good gnaws at you.