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The ooze drips heavy, thick droplets from his elbows and chin. It sticks in his week old facial hair like constellations, forming shapes of his plight and shining beacons pointing towards the grin he hasn’t been able to wipe from his face.
There’s a puddle beneath him now, spreading slowly from the soles of his worn down boots and out towards where the other hand intertwines, two palms pressed together, stuck stronger than he’s sure the goo will to his skin.
Sam’s eyes turn to travel up the other arm, the one that’s still enveloped in tan fabric that’s now staining with black ick. For a split second, an old memory flashes through their head. Cas, wading through the water, not quite their Cas any longer, with blackness seeping from his pores before he vanished beneath the rippling surface.
But this Cas isn’t leaking the substance, rather just doused in it, grinning wider than Sam is sure he’s ever seen. A glance back at his brother shows all he needs to know. They were matching smiles, mirrored, both weary and exhausted, but both a million and ten watts, the level of stars burning.
“What did you do?” Sam asks now, sounding nearly nervous to hear the answer to the question, eyes locked on the triumphant green ones before him.
“What I had to do.” Dean calmly states, raising Castiel’s hand, still gripped in his own. It’s as if he’s never had a better answer.
Sam’s not sure there ever was another answer since Castiel came along.
For Dean, there was no other choice. Not without his Angel.
Sam glanced back towards the TV that had been playing when the two sloshed their way through the bunker door and down the stairs, leaving darkened footprints and a stinking trail behind. The TV showed another wave of hellish smoke swirling about, another light beam of heavenly descent, another shimmering glimpse at the newest future they’d have to endure.
“You realize what you just did, right?” Sam’s voice was not accusatory. He knew the answer.
“I got Cas back. The rest we can deal with later.” Dean declared and he turned to Cas, his free hand coming up to pat at the angel’s cheek. “Let’s go get cleaned up.”
Sam sighed, but couldn’t help the flicker of a smile on his own lips. “Don’t clog the drain!”
“Yeah, yeah, Rapunzel.” Dean mumbled, leaning to press a chaste kiss to Castiel’s lips before beginning to drag him down the hall.
Sam chuckled, turned back to the TV, and shook his head. They’d be okay. They always were.