Chapter Text
She was beautiful, much that Dean hated to admit it. Waves of dark hair curled prettily around her heart-shaped face, and a small sprig of flowers pulled some of it up to the side, serving as her veil. Rather than anything too formal, she wore a lacy white sundress with an empire waist and a swing skirt that stopped just below the knee, exposing pale creamy skin down to her simple white sandals. The afternoon air had grown chilly and she wore a faded denim jacket over her shoulders, one that punched Dean in the gut with recognition so painful he stuttered in step for a second, quickly righting himself before anyone noticed.
Her smile was nearly a smirk, painted in dark burgundy lipstick, and she arched one slender dark eyebrow as they approached.
“And this must be the famous Dean Winchester,” she said cheerfully. In spite of the smirk, there was a warmth in her eyes, something close to affection, and Dean realized that no matter what he wanted to think about her, this woman must truly care for Cas to welcome him some openly. “I’ve been hoping you’d swing by, thought maybe if the man himself showed up, Cas’d stop yapping about you so much,” she went on.
Cas chuckled. “Baby,” he chided softly, and leaned to press a soft kiss to her cheek. “C’mon, don’t give him a hard time. He’s had a long drive.”
The woman laughed. “I know, I know, just messing with you, Dean,” she said, offering a hand in greeting. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Meg Masters… er, Meg Milton now, I guess,” she corrected, a pleased blush rose to her cheeks at the very thought of it.
Dean shook her hand and fought not to run for the door. “Of course I came, had to see the girl who finally made an honest man outta our Cas,” he teased in response, and Meg threw back her head and laughed, one pale hand going to rest across her midsection as she did.
That was Dean saw it, the gentle swell against the lacy fabric of her dress, her hand resting there in every expectant mother’s familiar protective gesture. His mouth went dry and he thought for a moment his knees would give out but he kept fighting, forcing himself to remain composed, and put on his biggest grin.
“Cas! Man, you didn’t tell me you’re gonna be a
“-dad someday?” Cas asked, blue eyes wide and curious.
Dean gave a long bitter laugh, glancing down at the man cuddled against his side on their couch. “Right, Cas, which one of us is gonna be poppin’ out the kids again?”
Cas frowned. “There is such a thing as adoption, Dean,” he said, sitting up. “Lots of same-sex couples do it. Though you’d probably have to explain us to your family first.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Right. ‘Hey dad, guess what? I’m a fag and my roommate has been fucking me for the past couple of years, oh, and, yeah, we’re adopting a kid too’. That’d go over real well, Cas.”
“That’s it, that is fucking IT!” Cas suddenly spat out, pushing away from Dean and standing up so quickly that the other man stared up at him in surprise.
“What? Jesus, Cas, what’s crawled up your ass today?” Dean said, sounding wounded.
Cas was furious, face nearly red with his anger, jaw set in a hard line. “I can’t fucking do this anymore, Dean. I’m tired of it. I’m just fucking tired. I love you but I am sick of living in the fucking closet with you. This self-loathing bullshit of yours is too much and I can’t carry it around on my shoulders anymore!”
Dean sat bolt upright on the couch. “What? Cas, fuck, man, calm down!” he said, notes of panic rising in his voice. “Dude, c’mon, I was just kidding!”
“You really think that, don’t you?” Cas replied, shaking his head of messy dark locks as he grabbed for his denim jacket, slung over the back of an armchair where he had left it on his way home from the library the night before. “You really do. Thing is, Dean, it’s not a joke. You’re not kidding. Cos you’re never gonna man up and tell your father that you’re gay, and no matter how much you say you love me, it’s never going to be enough for that. Never as much as you fear that old bastard.”
Dean stood up, watching as Cas tore around the room. He had grabbed an old backpack from the closet and was flinging things into it left and right, books he needed for work mixed in with his wallet and a couple of t-shirts and whatever else he could find in his rampage.
“Cas, please, whatever… whatever it is you think you’re doing, please, don’t,” he said quickly. “Let’s talk about this, c’mon, we can figure it out!”
Cas froze at the door, shaking his head. “We’ve been ‘figuring it out’ for three years, Dean. Hell, seven if you count the years in college when we’d get drunk and make-out and pretend it never happened in the morning. If you want to deny who you are…”
“I’m not gay,” Dean cut him off firmly, glaring.
Cas gave an angry chuckle. “Yeah?” he replied. “Neither am I. So fucking what? I fucking love you, Dean, that’s all that should matter. And I know you love me. But you’re never going to be able to deal with the fact that I’m not part of that apple-pie life you’ve always imagined for yourself, with the pretty wife and the 2.5 kids and the picket fence.”
“Is this about Lisa?” Dean asked, eyes narrowing. “Please, Cas, I thought we were past that. How many times do I have to apologize for…”
“For having some big gay freak-out and fucking your high school girlfriend?” Cas supplied. “I was past it, Dean. Obviously you’re not. And that’s not even what this is about. It’s about you and the fact that you can’t man up to your
“-dad?!” Dean breathed out in surprise.
Cas grinned. “We didn’t tell anyone,” he replied, ghosting his hand across Meg’s where it sat on her belly. “We just kinda let people… you know, come and see.”
Dean stood a moment, eyes wide and mouth agape, as he struggled for words. “Wow,” he finally said after a long moment. “Just… wow, um, congratulations! You must be so happy, Cas. You have everything you’ve always wanted.”
For a second, just a second, Dean thought he saw something flicker across Cas’ face, but just as quickly it was gone.
Meg chuckled softly, seeming not to have noticed anything out of the ordinary, and Dean passed it off as hopeful imagination. “Well I’d like to think so,” she spoke up, and tilted Cas’ face by the chin to press their lips together, earning hoots and hollers and some clicking of glasses from the other partygoers.
Dean maintained his pleasant smile, but he had to glance away, eyes flitting to the floor and then to their hands, still joined there together atop the burgeoning life they had created, the glittering of a thousand twinkling lights hung in the rafter reflected in the simple gold of their wedding bands.
Dean drew a deep breath to keep from vomiting; his cell phone began jingling in his pocket like some gift from the heavens to draw him away from this heartwarming, sick-inducing scene. Dean spared the display only a glance before giving an apologetic shrug.
“Duty calls,” he said with a sheepish smile. “I’ll step out to take this, better reception… be back in a sec,” he prattled on, walking away as he spoke, letting his feet carry him as far away as he could without seeming as though he were running.
Once he was out in the cool air, he inhaled deeply before swiping his thumb across the call button on his phone.
“Hey Sammy,” he sighed out.
“Dean, man, are you
“-okay?” Sam asked, eyes wide in surprise at finding his brother sitting on the floor of his childhood bedroom, knees clasped to his chest and his back against the foot of his bed. The younger man had been looking forward to winter break, to his worshipped older brother returning home and spending extended time with the family. He may have been in college himself by then, nearing graduation, but he still held is brother in the same childlike awe that had colored his younger years, much as he occasionally tried to mask it.
But finding Dean so clearly in pain, damn near shaking with the force of it, eyes red and swollen and bleary, had not been anything near what Sam expected.
Dean glanced up in surprise; he had been so firmly entrenched in the grief he had tried so long to fight away that he hadn’t even noticed the door open or his brother stepping into the room, until Sam had spoken. He sniffed and fisted at his eyes a moment, trying to look more presentable and pretend he wasn’t a wreck.
After all, he was the older brother. He had to set the example for Sam.
“M’fine, Sammy, don’t worry about it,” he said hoarsely, offering a weak smile. “Just, uh… just…”
“Is it Cas?” Sam asked quietly, understanding written across his face and sadness shining in his hazel eyes.
Dean’s jaw dropped a moment and he sputtered to cover his surprise. “What… what do you mean, Cas, Sam? Cas’ fine, he’s just… you know, the holidays, he’s…”
“Dean,” Sam said carefully. “I know. We all know.”
Dean wouldn’t let the lie go so easily. He sniffed again. “Know what? I don’t know what you’re talking about, kid.”
Sam sighed, shoving his hands deep into his jeans pockets. “Really, Dean?” he asked. “You’re going to keep this up, even with me? I knew you and Cas were more than just friends the first spring break you took off with him instead of coming home. Nobody moves cross-country for their roommate’s job, Dean. I know. Me, mom…. Dad, we all know. And it’s okay.”
Dean shook his head, gut churning and head spinning with his brother’s revelation. Because it wasn’t okay. It would never be okay, not now. Not when the lie he had told for so long had finally come to fruition. He and Cas were nothing more than friends, now – if even that.
He tried to speak and he choked, shaking his head still, tears springing unbidden to bright green eyes and face crumbling, even as Sam knelt to his side.
“He’s gone, Sam,” Dean finally managed to speak. “Cas is gone. He left, he left me. He left me and I don’t know what to do. I’m broken, without him, Sammy. I’m broken inside.”
For all of the times in his life that Sam had secretly wished to see Dean breakdown, to see some chink in his armor or a crack in his façade of bravado and calm, he suddenly felt lower than dirt. He had wanted to best his brother, just once. He had wanted to see Dean maybe admit defeat.
He had never wanted to see this, never wished this kind of pain on anyone, least of al the one person he idolized above all others.
The younger man leaned forward, sliding his arms around his brother and pulling him close, even as silent sobs began to wrack Dean’s body and he kept murmuring out the same phrase, “He’s gone”, over and over.
Sam held him close and sighed. “It’ll be okay, Dean. It’ll be
“-okay?” Sam’s voice game over the crackling cellular connection.
Dean gave a heavy sigh and a rueful smile. “Yeah, Sam,” he said, shaking his head to himself. “Yeah, I’m alright.” He began to walk, following the beaten footpath towards where he had parked his Baby in the field. The party went on behind him, lights and laughter drifting out into the evening air, the warmth of a happy fathering of family and friends, celebrating the new couple’s happiness.
Dean kept walking until he reached his car, ready to unlock the door, slide inside, hit the road and never look back.
He gave another sigh, thinking of Cas and the happy smile on his face when he gazed at his new wife.
“I’ll be okay,” he lied.