Cas found himself alone in the bunker. It wasn't the first time he had been here alone but it was the first time he had the urge to snoop. He opened and closed every door, looking into rooms and walking out again. He pushed open Dean's room. On his nightstand was an old book on top of an old copy of "Busty Asian Beauties." Cas sat down on Dean's bed and picked up the magazine. He looked around as if expecting Dean to come into his room any second and tell him off for looking at porn in his room. He opened it.

Instead of finding the scantily clad women in various positions, Cas found pictures taped and glued in pictures of himself and Dean. There was one of the two of them when Sam had taught them what a selfie was. There was one that Sam must have taken of Dean and Cas by the impala talking. There was the photo of the patchwork family of Dean's taken right before Ellen and Jo had died. Cas ran his fingers over Dean's funny expression and turned the page. Folded pages of different colors and sizes, all obviously ripped from books, were taped or shoved into the magazine. Cas unfolded the first letter.

To Castiel,

I don't exactly know how to pray. Sam told me he prays. I've never done it. It feels awkward. I can never tell if you can hear me, if you're ignoring me, or if I'm just doing it wrong. I also don't want other angels to hear me. I don't know if they can.

This letter I guess is a prayer but I don't know if praying is supposed to be done in a church, outloud, kneeling, or if I just think your name you'll hear me. That scares me a little. If you heard me every time I thought your name then I can see why you'd be avoiding me.

Don't take that the wrong way. I mean it doesn't mean anything. Sometimes I just keep thanking you for bringing me back. Sometimes I think about what you were trying to say to me when I crawled out of my grave and your real voice almost killed me.

I'm lying. I shouldn't lie in a prayer, right? It's private and no one will know what I'm really praying. Right? I need to get it out of my head. There's no one else I can tell. I just want to stop thinking about you all the time. I want to stop seeing you in all of my dreams. I don't, though. I should.

-DW

Cas folded it back up with trembling fingers and told himself silently to stop. This was an invasion of privacy. He didn't care. They were addressed to him. He pulled another one at random and opened it up.

Dear Cas,

The angel with the dirty trench coat that loves me. That's what Balthazar said to me. I can't stop hoping he's telling the truth. He's probably messing with me and I shouldn't let it get to me. It got to me. You got to me.

- The hunter with the dirty flannel that's in love with you.

Cas read it over three times before running his fingers over the scrawled letter and folding it back up. He flipped the page to another collage of pictures. Cas looked at his own face, stern and confused. He saw a picture of a pissed off Dean and an embarrassed looking human Cas sitting at the table in the bunker eating. Cas ran his fingers over the glossy photos of him and Dean sitting, standing, talking, laughing together. He pulled out another letter.

Cas,

Everything is falling apart. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. You're… gone. Bobby. Sam can't keep it together forever. Frank says to keep smiling but I don't know how long I can keep it up. I killed Amy and it's eating me up knowing it hurt Sam.

I need you. Please come back.

-DW

Cas sifted through the pages, his eyebrows creasing together as he read more and more of

Dean's letters to him. His heart was pounding in his chest, not out of necessity, but emotion.

Dear Cas,

I feel guilty about the way I feel about you. Somewhere behind the you that I know, the man whose vessel you have could be alive. Even if he isn't- I'll never know what you look like really. I dream of your blue eyes but they aren't really yours. Even if I could be with you (I know I can't) what if he was awake somewhere in there? Would I feel the same way if you had a different vessel? I don't want to think about it. I feel guilty.

-DW

Cas pushed the letters back into the magazine and flipped through the pages. More pictures were glued and taped. More pages of letters stuck into the magazine. Cas felt like the room was spinning. Dean's messy handwriting on all of the pages made him feel dizzy. A torn piece of paper fell from the magazine in Cas's lap and he looked down at it. It wasn't folded.

I love you Castiel. I love you.

Cas picked it up and put it back in with the rest of the things he wasn't supposed to know about. He wanted to find Dean and kiss him. He wanted to write a letter in response to every letter Dean had written him. He wanted to look at the pictures forever. He wanted to tell Dean he's always loved him.