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“I’m fine, Sammy.” Dean's not fine, but it isn’t like he or his brother could do anything about it. They defeated God, but he couldn’t save his best friend.
Sam gives him a skeptical look, his brows furrowed even more than normal. Dean doesn’t want his brother to worry so he plasters on the best smile he can muster up. “Seriously, Sam. I’m just tired. I think I’m gonna sleep for a few days straight.”
Sam still looks unsure but nods nonetheless.
“Eileen’s okay by the way. She was wondering if I could drive her car to her place.” He seems to be asking for permission. Dean supposes he should have asked about Eileen sooner, but he couldn’t really think about too much. He feels an ache deep in him. "Go get her, cowboy.” Dean’s smile is as sincere as it is gonna get for now. He wants to be happy for his brother and he is. He is just also a little preoccupied with his own thoughts.
Sam taps his shoulder lightly before barrelling out of the library room. They stayed up all night checking in with everyone they knew to see if they got back safely. Jack took care of everything, of course, but they still wanted to hear from their friends and family.
Dean scrubs his eyes with the back of his hands. He hadn’t been lying, he really is tired. It feels as if all the weight of everything with Chuck, his mom, and Jack has been lifted but replaced with something he couldn’t quite place. He feels hollow inside but his stomach is doing flips.
The nagging voice in the back of his head grows louder. What now?
He decides he just needs some food in him. He takes out the bread and peanut butter and the jelly. He can still hear Cas telling him how it tasted like molecules to him.
No. He isn’t going to think about that right now. He needs to eat and shower and sleep. Eat. Shower. Sleep.
Eat. Shower. Sleep.
Eat.
Shower.
Sleep.
Repeating the mantra again and again until he gets into his pyjamas and slides under the covers of his bed.
Okay, now sleep. Turns out even when you’re tired from once again saving the world, sleep doesn’t come as easily as it should.
He tries counting sheep and somewhere around 148, he begins to doze off.
***
“You changed me, Dean.”
“I love you.”
“Goodbye, Dean.”
The words echo in the emptiness. He’s standing in pitch black darkness, turning his head to see where the words are coming from. He can’t see anything and he can feel tears of frustration welling up in his eyes.
“Come on, Cas. Where are you? I need you, buddy.” He mutters through choked sobs.
All of a sudden the familiar black goo materializes in front of him and turns into an even more familiar trench coat clad figure.
Something is off about him.
Everything is.
The smile isn’t right, the way he’s walking towards Dean isn’t right, the way he starts to talk isn’t right.
“You think anyone could love you?” The gravel tone he is so used to isn’t there. It’s a higher pitched voice, but he can’t help his heart from beating way too fast.
Dean mutters out something unintelligible.
The figure in front of him lets out a cruel laugh. “You think you’re worthy of an angel, one of the most powerful beings in the universe? You think he wanted you?” The figure is stepping even closer, a foot away from Dean now.
“You are nothing but a speck of dust. You are unworthy. You deserve nothing.” The thing in Cas’ body is touching him now, near his sternum.
“Everyone who has ever loved you has suffered because of it. Your mother, Sam, Benny,” the voice pauses and lets out a humourless chuckle, “me.”
Before Dean can even react, the figure pushes Cas’ hand inside of his torso and the black goo is inside of him and he is once again shrouded in darkness. He doesn’t notice though, because his entire body is on fire, extinguishing and relighting until he has no coherent thought in his head. It feels like being back in hell once again.
He wakes with a start. The covers are tangled between his sweaty legs and he can still feel the fire burning him. He shoves the covers off and gets up to peel the sweat stuck t-shirt off of him. He sits on the edge of the bed with his face in his hands.
It still feels too hot, too much in his tiny room in the bunker. He can’t breathe.
Dean gets up and puts on a clean shirt and a pair of jeans. He grabs his keys and bolts out of the room.
He is in his car in no time and he puts his hands on the steering wheel to ground himself.
Pulling out of the bunker’s garage, soon he's out on the road. It’s dark out and he’s not sure what time it is. He has the windows down so the rush of air can drown out the thoughts in his head. It has never been enough to do so before, so it isn’t all that different now.
The words that Cas- no, it wasn’t Cas, it was a thing- said echo around in his head. He knows he has never been worthy of love, but hearing the words come out of Cas’ mouth was unbearable.
He misses him. He still can’t bring himself to think about what Cas had said before the empty got him. But he knows he misses him. He was his best friend.
He glances at the passenger seat before quickly looking out at the road again.
He can still feel his presence next to him. They had been in the car together less than two weeks ago. Dean had gone to do a grocery run and Cas tagged along. They were arguing about something arbitrary like which cereal to get or whether or not they actually needed vegetables.
That’s when that song came along on the radio. He didn’t know what it was called but he knew Cas liked it. Driver picked the music, but he turned the song up just to see the smile grow on Cas’ face. It was a simple quirk of the corners of his lips. Something no one would notice, but Dean definitely did. And they were no longer arguing, but instead settling in with the song in the background.
He hears the sob coming from deep inside him before anything else. He hadn’t felt his cheeks getting wetter and wetter or the grip on the steering wheel getting tighter. When the choked noise was let out into the world, he knows he has to stop. He parks the car on the side of the road before his vision gets blurry and the sounds coming from him wouldn’t stop.
The tears roll down and he put his head on the wheel. He wants the ground to swallow him up because it's too much. He's feeling too much. He doesn’t know what to do. He just wants his friend back.
Cas is just gone. Jack’s gone. And Dean wants Sam to go and be with Eileen. He wants everything for his little brother, but he doesn’t want to be alone.
He stays there, head on the steering wheel, until his breathing evens out. No tears come out anymore so maybe he's all out. After wiping his face and slapping it a couple times, he gets back on the road and just drives.
He doesn’t know how long he stays on the road for until he ends up somewhere that he didn’t think he would ever come back to.
He stops outside an unassuming barn. Nothing special to anyone who came across it, most would drive on by, but it was the most special place for him.
This was where he met Castiel, angel of the lord. This was where he stabbed Castiel, angel of the lord. The naivety of his past self brings a bitter smile to his face.
They didn’t meet here, but hell was a place better forgotten. He absentmindedly put his hand on his left shoulder, where Cas had once left his mark. Well, not once. He still had the blood covered jacket buried somewhere in his closet. He couldn’t bring himself to take it out to wash it or even look at it.
He lets out a sigh before getting out of the car. It doesn’t look like anyone had been in the barn in ages, maybe even twelve years.
Through the sunlight slowly creeping up on the land, Dean can see the old and faded sigils on the barn walls and the candles. He can make out some of the shotgun shells still littering the floor covered in dust and cobwebs. They had no idea what they were dealing with. He missed the innocence of that time, even though he had been far from innocent during his time in hell.
He hasn’t forgotten about hell, he doesn’t think he could if he tried. He still has dreams about being tortured, being the one doing the torturing. He knows that’s where Castiel and he first met. He was still Castiel then, but Dean can’t help but think he was always Cas.
Before he knew the plans of Heaven and hell, before he knew about seals and apocalypses, before he knew about trials, before god himself tried to take them down. This barn signified all of the Befores.
He can feel the resentment in his heart reach a crescendo and his fingers itch for something to do. Before he knows what’s happening, he has a broken wood board in his hand and is smashing it against the metal wall over and over again. The sounds fill up the silence of the space and give him something to focus on. It’s not long before the board is nothing but tiny splinters, and he has another one in his hand ready to meet the same fate.
At one point the boards stop being enough and he is punching his hand against the wall next to the door until he can feel blood seeping through. He sees them leave angry, scarlet traces on the wall.
His hands fall to his sides and his vision is too blurry to notice the state of the wall anymore or even his own hands.
He lets his knees fall to the dirty ground as dust rises up in the disturbance. It was too common of an occurrence, him on his knees praying to and for Castiel.
“I wish you were here, Cas. I wish you hadn’t stopped Billie, I wish you hadn’t told me anything, I wish you never made the deal.” He was crying again. So much for being all out of tears. “I jus- I need you to come back, Cas. Just come back home. Like you always do. Come back to me. Please.” The words were whispers but they might as well have been yelled at the top of his lungs.
Please please please please .
He leans his bloody hands on his knees and bows his head down and lets the tears roll out.
He doesn’t know how long he sits there in that position, but his knees aren’t happy when he gets back up.
He wants to burn the place down, but he also doesn’t want to leave.
He sighs and walks out of the barn to his car before he can cause any more damage. It was gonna be a long drive back to the bunker but he wasn’t sure he could be there alone. Maybe some of the hunters had gotten there or maybe Sam would bring Eileen back.
He pulls his phone out and saw that he had a few missed calls. A few from Sam and one from Claire. He wasn’t sure he could speak to Claire right at the moment. So he calls Sam.
“Hiya, Sammy,” he says, his voice rough and unbearable against his own ears. “How’s Eileen doing?”
“She’s doing good. Really good.” Sam’s happiness is radiating through the phone and his heart clenches as jealousy and bitterness try to claw their way through. He won’t let it. He can’t.
“That’s good.” Dean pauses, “you called like half a dozen times. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to check in with you.” The somber shift in tone causes Dean’s jaw to tighten.
“I’m good, Sammy,” Dean says. “I’m thinking of driving to see the girls.” He hadn’t been, but it was as good of a plan as any.
“Oh. Tha-that’s good. I’m sure Jody is gonna like that.” Sam says. There is a heavy awkwardness in the silence between them.
“Well, if that’s all I’m gonna go.”
“Uh, yeah. Just be careful and tell Jody and the girls we say hello.” They were a we now and even though the dark parts of him wanted to wallow, Dean felt a small smile creep into his face.
“Yeah, yeah. Tell Eileen I miss her.”
With a laugh, Sam hangs up. Dean feels a little better after talking to his brother, the only somewhat constant in his life.
He taps the top of the Impala with his hand and gets in.
***
He manages to make it to Jody’s within a few hours, only having stopped for breakfast and gas.
He doesn’t know how but the sun seems to shine brighter and the grass seems to be greener and the sky seems to be bluer. And he can’t bring himself to find joy in any of it. All he can feel is the sweat making his T-shirt stick to his back, the ringing of laughter in the streets bringing on a migraine, and the smell of a space that felt too clean.
He gets out of his car to hugs from Jody and Alex. They tell him the rest of the girls are getting the food ready for dinner.
Good, he’s starving.
He walks into Jody’s living room. Claire and Kaia are on the couch, making heart eyes at each other and definitely not getting dinner ready.
“Alright, kiddos. Let’s go, time to eat.” Jody is marching towards the kitchen with Alex, Claire, and Kaia in tow.
Claire turns to him and rolls her eyes. “Could’ve just called me back instead of visiting."
“I ne-need to tell you guys something.” Dean can’t look at her. He doesn’t think he can get the words out if he looked into those familiar eyes. He doesn’t want to say them out loud. He wants to never think it.
The other women stop and turn towards him, eyes wide with curiosity.
“Well?” Claire says exasperatedly, “I’m not getting any younger.”
“It-it’s Cas.” He takes a deep breath and rushes the words out. “He didn’t make it.”
The women look at him at first with shock and then sympathy, except Claire who looks dumbfounded.
“What the fuck does that mean?” she says, with anger clear in her tone.
“Claire.” Jody has a warning in her voice.
“No, no what do you mean ‘he didn’t make it’? What were you doing when he wasn’t making it?” She asks coming closer to him and points her finger towards his chest.
“I wa- I tried t- he didn’t tell me. I couldn’t do anything,” he whispers. “I couldn’t do a goddamn thing.”
“That’s not good enough!” She emphasizes with a jab to his chest with every word. “You have to do something!”
He knows she’s right. He has to do something, he’s just not sure what it is.
She doesn’t wait for him to respond. She takes her jacket from the couch and slams the door behind her as she leaves.
Dean shuffles towards the door, but is stopped by a hand on his arm.
“Just give her some time.” Jody’s words are soft and full of heart. “Come eat. You had a long drive.”
Dinner is a mostly silent affair, with the girls chiming in every now and then giving him updates he missed out on. He tries to smile and nod, but doesn’t register much of the conversations. He barely recognizes what he’s putting in his mouth until he looks down and sees his mostly empty plate. It was roast beef and mashed potatoes, the remains splattered across the plate. He wants to say it tasted great, but he wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference from eating plain bread.
It’s after dinner when he’s getting settled on the couch that Claire finally makes her return. She looks a lot calmer than she had before, but still heartbroken.
Dean gestures to the couch for her to take a seat and she does so after hesitating for a minute.
They sit in an almost compatible silence for a few more minutes, both wondering where to begin.
“You know, everytime I see him, I’m reminded of my father and what he took from me.” Dean was not expecting that, but he couldn’t blame her. She continues, “obviously, it’s his vessel, but I think I remember some of his mannerisms being my dad’s too. I guess he picked it up when dad was still in there.”
Dean doesn’t know how to respond to that so he nods mutely at her. She takes it as a cue to go on.
“I want to hate him. And I do, or a part of me definitely does. I hate him for everything I had to go through as a kid.” She sighs, “but I also care about him in a way I don’t understand.” She stops and Dean thinks she’s done talking for the time being.
“He was the first person in a long time to give a shit about me. And I guess I needed that.” She shrugs after a long pause.
He can understand that. He can’t even think about where he would be if it hadn’t been for Cas, showing him how much he cared about Dean, how much he…
Dean wants to tell her that she has a family with Jody and Kaia and everyone else, but she knows that already. She knows she’s cared about by good people. She knows she can call him or Sam anytime of any day. But this is different.
“What happened, Dean?” In that moment, she sounds so much older than her age as the resignation sets in. He feels his heart break for her, a girl who he sees so much of himself in.
He can’t answer the question. He hasn’t been able to think about it without wanting to scream or cry or break things, preferably all those things at once as evident in a small barn in the middle of nowhere.
He clears his throat. The words still get stuck. He takes a deep breath.
“He saved me.”
She doesn’t say anything. Maybe she can see he can’t bring himself to talk about it or maybe she knows.
So he stays quiet. And they sit together.
***
He can’t bring himself to fall asleep and it has very little to do with the uncomfortable couch he’s laying on. He doesn’t want to go to sleep because he knows what he will see. He’s been seeing it every night since that night.
“You fucking bastard. You didn’t even let me-" He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if it hadn’t been an end of the world situation. If he had time, what would he have done? If they had time, what would he have done? He can feel tears trying to make their way out again and stops to take deep breaths.
He was tired of it all. The crying, seeing Cas in his dreams, knowing he isn’t there when he wakes up, rinsing and repeating.
He angrily rubs at his face, the wet cheeks a somewhat constant.
Claire was right. He has to do something. He can’t continue to sit around wallowing and grieving.
Cas always found a way back to him. Back to their home. He would just have to do it again.
***
A couple of weeks later found Dean sitting in the library room of the bunker with piles of tomes around him. He hadn’t been doing much else since he had gotten back from Sioux Falls. Just surrounded by books and nosing into one after the other, looking for something, anything.
He snaps shut the one he had been pawing for the last few hours. Like the dozens he had gone through, this one was just as useless. His eyes have been burning for a while and he can feel a dull ache in the back of his head. He wants to shake it off and keep going, plundering through the heap next to him. But he knows even if he keeps researching, he’s going to come up with nothing.
He takes the time to stand up and stretch his back and neck. His body definitely isn’t what it used to be, the constant aches never fully going away. He knows he needs to eat but he can’t bring himself to feel hungry, which was more than a little odd. He's just glad Sam isn’t around, opting to go on a hunt with Eileen instead.
Dean forces himself to go to the kitchen and heat up the leftover Chinese from a few nights ago. His taste buds refuse to allow him to actually process what he’s consuming. He swallows it all down with a bottle of beer. He takes a Tylenol after he’s done with the food.
He allows himself a few minutes with his eyes closed and takes some deep breaths. He doesn’t want to see his hands shaking or think about how he can feel his heart ready to give out. He grips the counter tops with the unsteady hands. He wills his breathing to calm his heart down. And after a while, it does.
He goes to the library and gets back to what he had been doing.
The nightmares are always there to welcome him when he goes to bed, so he keeps working until he passes out on a chair or a couch. If he’s lucky, he gets more than 3 hours. If he’s unlucky, well that’s what coffee is for.
It’s not even his bed, it’s his room. He can’t seem to breathe when he’s in there. Everything manages to remind him of Cas. How he would be so careful to sit straight and not disturb anything when they watched movies together there or the closet where Dean had stuck the bloody jacket or how he had agonized over the mixtape on his desk for hours before finally giving it to his friend.
His friend.
When he is done with the books around him, it's nearing midnight. He knows he can go for another hour or so before calling it quits for the night. He gets up planning to grab a cup of coffee from the kitchen, but his legs seem to have plans of their own.
He doesn’t register where he is until he pushes open a door to turn the light on and finds himself looking into Castiel’s room. It’s as neat as it ever was, not even looking like someone had been living there to begin with.
The bitter chuckle comes out of his mouth before he can stop it. A part of him wishes the room was a mess, just cluttered with personal items and clothes strewn about. But that would be very unlike the angel who had accrued maybe five or so personal items, all of which he kept in that stupid trench coat. Another part of him feels the urge to break everything in this room and that part almost wins out. Almost.
He shuts the door, goes to the made bed, and sits on the edge. He does something he has done every night since coming back from Jody’s.
“Hey, Cas. I hope you got your ears on, buddy.” Dean knows he doesn’t, knows his words are just broken whispers into the void. “It’s been a long one today. I think I managed to get through six of the books. That only leaves hundreds more so that’s progress, I guess,” he sighs, “I’m really trying here, man. You could make it a little easier by just popping in.”
He waits.
Nothing happens.
He sighs again.
He pulls the covers back and lies down. He can’t be bothered to turn the lights off as he drifts off to another restless bout of sleep.
***
It becomes routine. Sleeping in Cas’ bed after a day of research. The sleep isn’t any better than in his own bed, but it grounds him.
Sam doesn’t mention it when he comes back to the bunker with Eileen.
He does however corner Dean in the library the day after he comes back.
“Dean,” Sam starts before breaking off. Dean knows it’s gonna be a taxing conversation and one he doesn’t want to have just from the one word.
“What?” He glares at the book in his hand. He has been reading the same page for at least twenty minutes. He knows nothing is in there or the entire book.
“You should take a day off.” Sam’s eyes linger on the half a dozen coffee cups littering the table Dean has set up on for the day.
“Why the fuck would I do that?” Dean all but snarls. A part of him recognizes the concern in Sam’s voice, but the anger gives way as it often does.
“You haven’t left the bunker in a while, from what I can tell.” Sam fidgets with his hands before pulling out the chair next to Dean and sitting down. He puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder only to remove it when he’s met with a harsh glare. “Maybe go and visit the girls.”
Dean’s heart pangs at the thought of seeing Claire again without having any news about Cas.
“I’m fine, Sam.” Dean turns the page just to stop his fists from clenching.
“You’re not fine,” Sam says quietly.
“Yeah, well.” Dean doesn’t continue.
“Things are slowing down. Not a lot of cases to take care of that don’t already have hunters taking care of them.” Sam twists his mouth to the side. “You could come out with me and Eileen.”
All of a sudden, Dean can’t breathe and he shuts the book closed and slams his fist on top of it.
“I don’t want to go out.” His words come out eerily calm.
“But you sh—" Sam tries to say.
“You don’t get it, Sam,” Dean whispers. “I was there— I saw him get taken away by that thing. He was there one second and gone the next.”
“I get it, Dean,” Sam says with a meaningful look in his eyes. And maybe he did get it, or maybe he didn’t. It doesn’t matter.
“I can’t stop,” Dean closes his eyes and wills his heartbeat to stop hammering so hard against his rib cage. “Everytime I close my eyes, everytime I stop doing whatever it is I’m doing here, I see it. I see him in front of me telling me tha— telling me stuff and I see him covered in black goo and I see the empty dungeon.”
Dean takes a shaky breath. His eyes are too dry for tears to come out but he feels the heat.
“I can’t stop.”
He rubs his hands over his face a few times and gets back to the book in front of him.
Sam takes the hint and leaves after a few more attempts at trying to say something which Dean ignores.
***
It is a long few weeks after his first night in Cas’ room that something finally happens.
They get a lead. More than a lead.
Dean wakes up after five hours of restless tossing and turning. He rubs his eyes before leaving the room to go to the kitchen. The smell of coffee greets him and he thanks Sam for being an early riser. What he doesn’t expect is a full house.
“Hello, sweetie.” Rowena is there in her Queen of Hell glory along with more demons than Dean is comfortable having in the bunker.
Sam turns to him from where he and Eileen are sitting drinking their coffee, a smile etched onto their faces.
“Dean!” Sam’s smile turns even bigger. “Rowena has something that might help with Cas.”
“What is it?” He hates how pathetic he sounds and squashes down the hope that dares to rise.
“Nice to see you too. I’ve been well, thank you for asking.” Rowena rolls her eyes, but must see the desperation in Dean’s eyes. “There’s a spell that might help one of you travel to the Empty.”
“It might?” Dean focuses on that instead of the stupid spark of hope that doesn’t disappear no matter how much he wants it to. He busies himself with pouring coffee into his mug.
“Well, nothing is certain.” Rowena explains. “It isn’t my spell and I found it in a book that had been lost for centuries. Not exactly a lot of people who’ve tried and tested it.”
Dean takes his mug and walks to sit with everyone at the table. Rowena gives his shaking hand a light tap with hers and a knowing look.
“I had a lot of demons on this. If anything will work, it’s this.” Dean doesn’t respond. He hadn’t even known that other people had found out about this. He looks to Sam and realizes he’s probably the reason. Sam seems to know exactly what he’s thinking.
“I had to ask, Dean. I want him back too,” Sam signs and says. Dean nods.
Eileen, who had stayed silent up until now, turns to Rowena and asks, “so what ingredients do we need?”
“I’ve already gathered everything for you, my loves.” A demon hands her a small bag and she passes it to Eileen. “Sam has the words and everything else you need is in there. Except- ah wait.”
She gestures to another demon and they hold out a knife and a vial to her. She digs the knife deep into her palm and holds her hand out over the vial until it is filled with her crimson blood. The cut heals itself once the vial is stoppered.
“Fresh.” She exclaims and hands it to Eileen who looks a little awestruck by the demon in front of her.
Dean doesn’t even know what to say.
“Thank you so much, Rowena. I can’t explain how much we all appreciate you doing this for us,” Sam says earnestly.
“Oh, just come visit every now and then,” she says as if talking about Arizona and not Hell. “And bring her,” she winks at Eileen.
Sam and Eileen laugh while Dean is still trying to gather his bearings. He manages a thank you before Rowena gets up and vanishes along with her minions.
A pause.
Sam looks at Dean.
“Wait, what just happened?” Dean still can’t bring himself to put everything together long enough to have a coherent thought.
Sam smiles, “Go get him.”
***
The preparations don’t take too long with all the help from Rowena.
They don’t know anything about this spell. They don’t know if there will be some earth-shattering consequence that they will all have to face afterward. Dean doesn’t know if there will be an afterward for him. He doesn’t even know for sure that it will take him to the Empty.
But when has any of those things stopped him?
As he steps into the void that spills out from the bowl of ingredients, he spares a glance at Sam and Eileen giving them a tight smile. However, the only thought in his head is I’m coming for you, Cas. Hold on.
***
The pitch black world he steps into is nothing like what he had been dreaming of. It wasn’t just dark, but completely devoid of anything and everything. He clutches onto the bag that holds his and Cas’ ticket home.
“CAS!” He yells out as loud as he possibly can. The void seems to absorb the words without carrying them anywhere. He screams for Cas again. And again. And again.
No response.
Cas had mentioned that the empty spit him out years ago when it realized how loud Cas was. Not Cas exactly, but rather his thoughts and his wants when compared to other angels and demons who would go to sleep and stay asleep. Cas had not wanted any part in that. He wanted to come home to his family.
Desperation leads Dean to think more and use his voice less. Maybe it would work for him too.
And so he thinks. He thinks about the first time he met Cas in Jimmy Novak’s body. He thinks about the first time he prayed to Cas. He thinks about all the times he put faith in Cas not because he was an angel of the lord but because he was Cas . He thinks about years of trust being diminished and earned back. He thinks of Cas dying and coming back. Always coming back. He thinks of Cas and the love he has for the entire world. Because of Dean , he had said.
Dean realizes it slowly but is also taken aback by the impact of it. It hits him with so much force that he feels the wind getting knocked out of him. He has wants too.
He wants Cas to come back to him. He wants Cas to come back to the bunker and stay. For as long as he does. He wants Cas to want him and to love him and for them to finally, finally get the chance they deserve. He wants them to live and grow old. Together.
Dean can feel the tears and he does not want to stop them. He closes his eyes to focus on his thoughts and wants.
“What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Want.” An eerily familiar voice says from all around him. He looks up and around until his gaze falls on someone he has not thought about in a very long time.
“Bela?” The word is barely a whisper, but the sneer on the brunette’s face confirms that it was heard loud and clear.
“Not quite, Dean.” The Thing says as black goo seems to circulate it for a second in a flowing motion before settling down out of sight once again.
Dean can feel his anger pumping up as it settles in that this is what took away Cas. Cosmic entity or not, it is a dick.
It hurts to see Bela, or her face, again. He knew what happened to souls in Hell a lot better than most people.
“Look, just let me see Cas and we’ll both get out of your hair.” He tries to sound confident and not as scared shitless as he feels. He puts his hands up in a placating manner. “Just let me see him.”
It scoffs, “Why would I let you do that? And what makes you think you can leave?”
“You don’t want me.” He ventures. “You don’t even want Cas. You just want to go back to sleep.”
It glowers and narrows its eyes, but doesn’t disagree.
“I am not leaving without Cas and you’re not going to sleep with me still here.” He knows his face is showing bravery he just does not have. But he has come too far to go back empty-handed. “I’m not gonna let you.”
“He made a deal. He knew perfectly well what the consequences were.” It’s almost Bela in her petulant voice, but not her at all. “It is just his luck that his happiness turned out to be…” The thing trails off as it looks him up and down with a sour look on its face and says, “You.”
Dean knows that. He knows that loving him has only brought pain and suffering into people’s lives. Cas said so many wonderful things to him, but does it matter if all of that led to him dying?
“Please,” Dean breathes out shakily. “I will do anything. Anything. Just give him back to me.”
The Empty pretends to think.
“What could you possibly do for me?”
He closes his eyes for a brief second, knowing he is about to make a choice for someone who wouldn’t want him to.
“I can give you his grace.” Slowly, he opens up the bag on his shoulder and takes out the ingredients that would turn Cas human permanently. “You would never have to see him again after this. Or me.”
It looks at him through Bela’s brown eyes seemingly intrigued.
“You can just go back to sleep after spitting us out.” He hopes this works.
“I have no use for angel grace.” Dean can feel his heart plummet in his chest. “But.” The Thing rolls Bela’s eyes. “I never wanna see any of you Winchesters ever again.”
Cas isn’t a Winchester. He’s as good as. Better most of the time. Wait—
“So you’ll give him back.” Bela’s body disappears before he even registers anything and he is left in the darkness yet again.
Dean doesn’t know how long he waits. He stays still and a part of him wants to thank whoever’s out there, but he knows it’s Jack and that he’s hands off. The thought forms a pang in his heart. He misses the kid.
He pushes the thought away and focuses on the present.
Cas is coming back to him. Cas is—
The Thing returns, this time in a new body and with a trench coat clad body clinging to it. He’s relieved to no longer face Bela but that is a passing thought as he takes in the state of Cas.
Dean wastes no time in rushing to his side. He wrenches Cas away from it and cradles his face. Cas has his eyes closed, but his lips are moving. They don’t make a sound. Dean doesn’t quite know what to say. He’s been waiting for months to see his- to see Cas again and hasn’t a clue what to say.
“You fucking bastard.” Dean mutters out, still holding onto Cas’ face probably painfully. He looks him over for a few minutes before pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.
“Dean?” Cas’ voice sounds broken like he’s been yelling himself hoarse for days on end.
“Yeah, buddy, it’s me,” Dean says into his shoulder.
“While this is all very touching, I was promised something in return.” The Thing is in an unknown man’s body. From the early 1900s, going by the clothes.
Dean reluctantly pulls back and looks into Cas’ eyes which are slowly opening. “I’m sorry I have to do this. I just— I need you back.”
Cas doesn’t seem to comprehend what is happening until Dean starts the spell and brings out the vial of Rowena’s blood still half-filled. His eyes widen, but before he can do anything Dean has an angel blade to his throat cutting out the tiny wisp of grace still in him. Cas has been slowly losing his grace over the years with heaven not working and getting himself into tricky situations. But this is all of his grace. This is permanent.
As the grace leaves his body he slumps down into a crumpled heap on the ground. The Empty gathers up the grace in its hands before it explodes in a shower of light all around them.
Dean looks around in awe as the finality of what he did hits him. He can’t think about that. He takes a hold of Cas by his shoulders and then darkness consumes both of them.
***
Dean comes to when he feels a weight squirming on top of him. His head is pounding and he thinks he can still see the explosion of grace behind his eyelids. He powers through it and cracks open his eyes to only be overwhelmed by the bright eyes staring back at him.
“You wanna get off me, sunshine?” he whispers when he finally reigns control of his vocal chords.
Cas stares for a while longer before rolling off of Dean, but still staying on the floor laying on his back.
Dean gets up and leans against the wall to see that they’re in the dungeon. His whole life really is a cosmic joke.
Cas stays on his back with his eyes closed, covered in remains of the Empty.
Dean has so much he wants to say and ask of Cas, but he sees him and the sight is enough to quell the part of his heart that’s been running rampant for the past few months. Cas is here. Cas is here in the bunker with Dean. And he is not letting him go anywhere. At least not without Dean in tow.
Tears flow freely out of his eyes and he doesn’t do anything to stop them. Allows the relief he feels to pour out of him.
He reaches his hand out to Cas and their fingers fit against one another’s like they were made to hold hands. Dean closes his eyes, lets out a breathy laugh, and allows his head to fall back on the wall.
They stay like that.
Until Sam barrels in minutes later with Eileen and hauls the both of them into tight hugs. It turns into a group hug and Dean can feel his heart settle for the first time in a long while.
The four of them shuffle out of the room. Apparently, it is well after midnight and Dean had been gone all day. Sam and Eileen give them knowing looks before they say their good nights and they’re left alone in the corridor.
Cas has stayed quiet throughout the whole exchange. He seems lost in his own world. Dean puts a hand on his shoulder which focuses his eyes back to Dean’s.
“You wanna take a shower?” He asks carefully, getting the feeling that Cas will spook easily. “Get all the Empty off you?”
Cas nods. Dean slides his hand down from his shoulder to twine their fingers again. He feels the smallest pressure from Cas’ hand and knows that he is trying. That’s good enough for Dean.
He leads them to his room where he gathers up a towel, T-shirt, and a pie of sweatpants. He holds onto them until they’re outside the bathroom and reluctantly lets go of Cas’ hand.
Cas takes the clothes and shuts the door behind him wordlessly.
Dean should go and change out of his own clothes. He should go and get some food ready for Cas. He should go make sure Cas’ room is ready for him after his shower.
He should…
***
Dean startles awake as he feels a hand on his face. His eyes fly open and he sees a freshly showered Cas crouching down next to him. He flushes at the realization that he slid down the wall opposite the bathroom door while he waited for Cas to finish. He just wanted to make sure everything was alright.
As he feels Cas begin to pull his hand away, he places his own on top. He holds on as they both look at each other. He slowly turns his head and places a light, lingering kiss on Cas’ palm. He can hear Cas’ sharp intake of breath.
“I missed you.” His voice is groggy with sleep. He places another kiss. “So goddamn much.”
He sees Cas’ eyes glisten with unshed tears and knows his are doing the same.
“You can’t leave me like that again.” Dean is gripping onto his hand as hard as he can, suddenly afraid he’ll slip away and the whole thing will have just been a dream.
“I won’t.” Cas says as he tentatively leans his forehead against Dean’s. He brings up his other hand and cups Dean’s face. “I won’t. I promise.”
Their lips are a breath away and Dean finally gathers up the courage to close the distance.
The kiss is wet and uncoordinated and rough.
It’s perfect.
They break off and Dean closes his eyes. He knows he has to say it. He wants to say it.
“Of course I love you.” He opens his eyes so he can look into Cas’. “How could you think I don’t?”
He knows how. He knows why.
“Actually, on second thought, don’t answer that.” They both laugh at that. And Dean knows that he’ll spend forever trying to make Cas laugh.
“I love you so much, Dean.” Cas tenderly kisses his eyelids and his forehead and his cheeks.
Dean could die happy right now. But he knows he doesn’t want to. He wants forever. For once, he wants the chance to grow old and if he’s being selfish, he wants to grow old with the man in front of him.
They somehow pull themselves into Dean’s room between more kisses and promises. The room doesn’t feel as bare when Cas is with him and filling up all his senses.
Dean doesn’t register changing out of his clothes or falling into bed with his best friend.
He knows they have to talk in the morning. Actually talk. But for tonight, he pulls Cas as close as he possibly can.
Dean lets his legs tangle with Cas’ and lays his head down on Cas’ chest. Dean allows the very human heartbeat thudding against his cheek to lull him into a dreamless sleep.
***
What happens after? Well, three things.
***
The first thing that happens is they talk in the morning.
They wake up not nearly well enough rested, but still get up to eat breakfast with Sam and Eileen. They come back to Dean’s room after a lot of eggs and toast.
Cas sits on the bed while Dean leans against his desk to look at him. He looks forlorn. He seems to be in another world with the way his eyes stay unfocused on a spot behind Dean’s right knee. Dean takes the opportunity to really look at him. He looks the same as he had before he was taken to the Empty, just no longer in his coat. Dean doesn’t know if the wrinkles on his face had been there all along or if it’s a side effect of no longer having any grace left. Dean’s heart breaks at that thought. He made him give up his grace. Not even that, he took it from him.
“Cas,” Dean whispers, too scared to speak. Cas’ eyes snap to his and look at him quizzically. “I’m so sorry, Cas.”
Cas looks more confused at that. He reaches his arms out and Dean goes to him without even thinking about it first. He stands between Cas’ legs and puts his hands on his shoulders. Cas encircles his arms around Dean’s waist and looks up at him. Softly, as if he is afraid to spook the air, he asks, “why are you apologizing?”
“I shouldn’t have— I should have found a different way to get you out.” Dean looks away from Cas’ piercing gaze. “I had no right to take your grace like that.”
To Dean’s surprise, he hears a low chuckle come from the man in front of him and looks to find a bemused expression gracing his face. “I’d argue that you’re the only one who has ever had any right.”
Dean starts to pull away as he begins to disagree but Cas’ hold around him tightens. Cas looks like he wants to say something and is looking for the right words so Dean stays where he is and he waits.
Dean lets his fingers move slowly from their place on Cas’ shoulders towards his neck. He grazes his hands along the back of his neck and slides them into his hair. Cas closes his eyes and leans back into the touch.
“My grace has been fading for a long time, Dean,” he finally says. “I just blamed it on heaven not being as strong anymore. But truth be told, I stopped being an angel long before heaven stopped working.”
Dean feels his heartbeat quicken. Cas opens his eyes and looks at Dean, not wavering. His fingers skim Dean’s waist to find his overheated skin under his t-shirt and a part of Dean is beyond excited even at the innocent touch. There is something to marvel at, at the idea of finally letting himself touch and be touched like this. He never wants to stop. He combs through Cas’ hair in a repeating motion with his fingers and waits for him to continue.
“Not to mention, my grace hasn’t been just mine in a very long time.” His light touch turns bruising on Dean’s side, but he can’t bring himself to care. “It’s yours. It was yours. Just like I am.”
Cas lifts Dean’s shirt further up his body to reveal his soft, freckled stomach. Cas leans his face into the side where his fingers were just seconds ago. His lips barely touch Dean’s skin but he can already feel the sudden ache in him that spreads everywhere. Dean’s fingers stop moving in his hair as they grip onto the short bits and he focuses on keeping himself upright.
“I think I would’ve given it up as well.” Dean barely hears the words but he can feel them being spoken into his skin. “I want to experience life with you, Dean. I want to see you grow old. I want to grow old with you.”
He peppers kisses all over Dean’s stomach and holding onto his hair is all Dean can do to not have his legs give out right here and now.
“I always knew I wanted that. But I convinced myself that I’d be okay with just being by your side. I would take anything you would give me.” Cas pauses at his sternum. He looks up. “I would still be okay with anything you give me. A part of me still isn’t really sure that this isn’t some cruel joke by a cosmic entity. Are you really here?”
Dean can feel his heart break as Cas lets his T-shirt fall back into place and leans his forehead against Dean’s stomach.
“I’m here, Cas. I got you,” Dean says.
“I want to be human with you, Dean,” Cas says.
Dean’s throat closes up and he can feel the all too familiar stinging of oncoming tears. “Oh come on, now. Not like you got a choice.”
It comes out less confident than he would like.
“I do. And I choose you. Everytime.” Cas says, as earnest as ever.
Dean leans down to kiss the top of his head.
“I love you.”
***
The second thing that happens is their retirement.
Monsters are few and far in between after everything with Chuck. Every now and then, they come across a vampire nest or two. But all in all, it is pretty quiet.
Until they run into a werewolf pack in Dallas that puts Dean in a sling for weeks.
It happens when they get too cocky. It’s just him and Cas at an abandoned warehouse. They know how to deal with werewolves, they’ve dealt with far worse.
Dean is quick with his gun and Cas is quick with his angel blade. But no matter how fast they are, they aren’t fast enough to get through the werewolves they managed to miscount.
Dean gets thrown against a wall and his 42 year old body isn’t prepared for that.
It seems that Cas isn’t prepared for that either. He finishes the last remaining werewolves on his own before running towards Dean with his hands reaching out. He cradles Dean’s head in his lap. Dean sees the edges of his vision darken and only manages to smile a little before the pain turns it into a grimace.
Cas touches Dean’s forehead with two fingers before his hands fall to his side.
“I can’t heal you,” Cas says, astonishment clear in his voice. “I ca-I can’t.”
“S’okay,” Dean manages as his eyes close shut. “I love you, sweetheart.”
Next thing he remembers is waking up in the backseat of the impala as Cas keeps murmuring words of comfort to him from the driver’s seat. He looks relieved to see Dean gain consciousness, but keeps muttering how they’re almost there to their motel.
Dean doesn’t wake up for a while after that.
Or he wakes up a few times to only gauge a lot of pain and then falls back to sleep. Throughout it all he feels the presence of a solid body next to him. One he would recognize anywhere, so he lets himself get the rest he needs.
When he does open his eyes, he is greeted to the sight of Cas sleeping with his mouth wide open, drooling on his pillow. Dean’s heart fills with more affection than he knows how to deal with. The pain is there in his shoulders but he knows that it will fade, unlike the love he feels for the man laying next to him.
He shifts to his side to look at Cas better which turns out to be the wrong move to make.
“Oww,” Dean exclaims as the needling pain vibrates throughout the length of his side. This wakes Cas up who immediately moves his hand to the nightstand where a gun awaits him.
He stops in his movement when he realizes that it’s just Dean.
“Are you okay?” Cas asks through a yawn as he helps Dean lie on his back and into a more comfortable position.
“Yeah, just wanted to see you drool a little better.” Dean says as he keeps a painful gasp in.
“I don’t drool.” Cas squints his eyes.
“Oh okay,” Dean rolls his eyes.
“Are you feeling okay?” Cas asks again and his eyes look guilty. “I tried my best to patch you up, but it— it took a while with Sam on the phone guiding me.”
“You did great, baby.” Dean reaches his hand out and holds Cas’ jaw so their eyes meet. “Gotta do some old fashioned healing now. It’ll take some time but I’ll be fine. You hear me?”
Cas nods wordlessly.
They look at each other for a while before they both lean in to make their lips touch. It’s barely a kiss, but it’s grounding and loving, just like all the ones that came before it.
“I don’t want to hunt anymore,” Cas mumbles against his lips.
Dean says the only thing he can. The only thing he wants to say: “Alright. Then we retire.”
***
The third thing is only natural after retiring. They move out of the bunker.
It takes a while to get the right fake papers sorted. But it has their real names on it. Dean and Cas Winchester.
Giving his name to Cas feels significant even though he has been a Winchester for years. So Dean gets a ring and puts it on Cas’ left hand. Cas goes out with Sam to get Dean a similar one. They both wear their rings and eat dinner with their family and that’s that.
They help Sam and Eileen sort through the junk still in many of the bedrooms of the bunker. It’s time the bunker is opened up to the people who need it. And that no longer means Cas and Dean.
The new house is a mess. It has a broken porch, messed up lighting fixtures, a mouldy basement and an infestation of rats. But it’s next to a lake and it’s out of the way of any traffic and has a big yard where Dean can imagine Cas planting flowers. And it’s theirs. It’s both of theirs.
***
After that, more things happen and they keep happening. Dean stops keeping track and starts living.