Time does not exist in Heaven, not in the same way that it does on earth. Yet Castiel knows each and every day that passes, knows that it’s been a week, two weeks, a month. Counts the days with every prayer he hears from Dean’s mouth, more desperate with every repetition.
“What’s taking so long?”
“Cas, come back.”
“I need you.”
“Where the hell are you, man?”
Dean never hears his prayers in return, but every night, as Dean’s own words echo in his ears, Cas prays back, and hopes Dean, though he may not hear, will understand.
I’m here. I will. I’ll never leave you completely.
Wait for me, Dean Winchester.