Chapter Text
Grief can make people do crazy things. However, no one ever realizes what they did wrong until it's too late. Too late to undo the damage. Too late to change a decision. Too late to correct their wrongs. Yet, while in this grief, others may try and convince them that it's okay. It's okay for them to be lashing out. It's okay to be mentally regressed. It's okay to stay at home all day and mope. Maybe those people just want to feel some control over the griever, or maybe they are just trying to help. In either case, Sam didn't feel like what he did was a wrong choice to make. Jessica even actively encouraged it. At least for a little while.
It had been over a year since his brother, Dean, had died. One year since his brother died in his arms. The amount of guilt that Sam felt from that night to this day was practically unbearable. That night, everything went off on a whim. They should have planned more, gotten more people to help, do everything and anything that they could to stop Coriantumr from hurting either of them. Yet, they didn't do that. Instead, they went in, guns blazing, and his brother was murdered.
He must have sat in that warehouse for hours in the dark, holding his brother's corpse in the silent and leaky building. Weeping for his big brother to not be dead. To not be gone. Sam didn't understand why he was so upset. When his aunt and uncle died, he cried at their funerals and after he found the bodies, but nothing like the tears that he shed for Dean. It was only after Jessica called for the hundredth time did he pick up and explain everything that had happened.
No one ever tells you what you're supposed to do when you find someone dead or when a loved one passes. They don't tell you who to call, how to make funeral arrangements, no one even tells you how to make sure that everything that the deceased may have wanted were to be met. Thankfully, Jess was there by Sam's side the entire time, teaching him and helping him to get everything done. Of course, Sam had to make up a story of what happened, because no one was going to believe that some psycho fake angel stabbed his brother while trespassing on private property. So, he made one up. Made up a story that Dean and he were mugged and called the police after the shock wore off. Somehow, it worked.
The entire week after this incident was a sort of limbo for Sam. Everything was a blur and he couldn't find the strength to do anything about it. He tried to sleep, but would wake up from nightmares. He became paranoid that somehow the Grigori survived and would hunt the rest of his family down. When the funeral eventually happened, Sam could barely speak. Jessica's side of the family came down for it as well as Sam's hometown friends and college buddies. Yet, it didn't seem that any of them were there for Dean. All were just there to support Sam. At least that's what it felt like. The only time Sam thought that Dean's name was mentioned was when he overheard it from a group of people talking, but he wasn't too certain. But, it did sound negative.
After the funeral, it took Sam a long time to try and build his world back together, but he wasn't perfect. The grief was just so intense, he had never experienced anything quite like it. Coupled with his new psychic abilities, it was a very dangerous time for him. However, he managed to pull through. Jessica was a loving fiance during this time, even if she did make snide remarks about his brother. Even through all of it, there was one thing that actually pulled him out of that deep pit of despair that he was in.
His daughter.
Jessica gave birth directly on his brother's birthday, even though her due date was going to be a whole other month in the future. The moment that Sam held that little girl in his arms, he knew that he needed to get his act together. This one little creature was going to change the world for him, he just knew it. After convincing Jessica to go with it, he named their daughter River after one of Dean's favorite songs, "Traveling Riverside Blues." He knew that he needed to protect her, so Sam was going to try his damn best.
After everything that happened, Jessica and Sam decided to move houses. Staying in that house just had too many painful memories. So, the family of three moved back to Lawrence Kansas. It was the town that he grew up in, and he knew that they would get the help that they would always need if they ever did need anything. Also, it was a small town. Nothing bad ever happens in small towns like these. Another reason why they moved back, was because the home that they found was a twenty minute drive away from the cemetery where his aunt and uncle were buried. Where Dean was buried right next to them.
Since they've been back, Sam would go and visit his brother's grave almost everyday on his way to work and the small community college that was nearby. It was never too far of a drive or too far out of his way. Every time he came, Sam would sit and talk, updating Dean's headstone on what was happening in his everyday life. It felt as if his brother was still there sometimes. Or, that his brother was standing beside him, almost like a guardian angel would. Yet, at the same time, Sam was nervous that the very thought may be true. Now that he knew that the supernatural was real, who knows if Dean's spirit was haunting the cemetery. However, there were no cold spots, no EMF readings, so it was just his anxiety getting the best of him.
Then, he started planning something. Once a month, on the first Saturday of each and every month, Sam would go to the cemetery with his daughter River and his fiance and go to the parking lot of the cemetery to have a small picnic. Then they would all go over to Dean's grave, sit down at the foot of the headstone, and Sam would tell all kinds of different stories to his infant daughter. Even though they both knew that River wouldn't remember anything right now, it was still important for Sam to let her know who her uncle was. Of course, he would leave out some details, but the stories were very much real. A part of him felt like River would actually listen, because she would always look at the headstone and sort of giggle whenever a story was being told. However, it was most likely his imagination.
Now, on this particular day when River was barely six months old, Sam was standing at the headstone of his brother. Wearing a black beanie over his long hair and an old Stanford t-shirt accompanied with blue jeans. On his chest he was carrying his daughter who wore a cute moose onesie, asleep on his shoulder. Gently bouncing her up and down while waiting for Jessica to come up from the parking lot down by the car. Humming softly to cox his daughter to stay asleep a little bit longer. But, that's when he got a text on his phone.
Carefully maneuvering, Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Raising it slightly so he could see what was on the screen. In a small split second, the content smile on his lips faded into a frown. Not even wasting a second, the young man presses a dial button and lifts the phone to his ear. Didn't even wait for the other voice on the other side of the line to speak before he spoke.
"What the hell do you mean you're not coming up?" Sam questions.
"Sam, I just can't." Came his fiance's voice.
"Why not?"
"Look, I've tried. I really have. I thought that maybe this was a good idea to help you get over your brother's death by letting you have this small little picnic day and visiting his grave. But this is just getting to be too much." Jessica confesses.
"What is too much about it?" Sam questions, now beginning to walk down the slightly slick dew grass and back to the parking lot, which he could easily see from his current location.
"You know how I feel about him, babe. I can't just keep pretending that he was a good man and should be celebrated. It's too much for me. I feel like I'm having a panic attack every time we come up here."
"He is a good man, Jess. I just want our daughter to know who Dean was, why are you so against it?"
His eyes glance up and he sees his car in the parking lot, and Jessica was standing right beside the passenger side. She was wearing a yellow sundress, covered in pink and blue floral flowers as well as a big tan hat to block out the sun. Jessica also happened to be wearing sunglasses. Her own phone was pressed up against her ear as she hung against the car, clearly not seeing Sam walking down towards her.
"You know what I mean. I love you, Sam. I really do, but I don't think-" She paused.
Sam gets into the parking lot and opens the gate that was separating the two areas, causing a loud squeak to reign out. River moves slightly in Sam's hold, but he keeps her quiet. The noise also alerts Jessica who turns out quickly to meet Sam's confused glare, and quickly puts her phone down on top of the car's hood.
"Don't think what?" Sam asks, hurt and furious.
"...I don't think that River and I should keep coming here anymore. I get sick to my stomach whenever I come, and whenever she's over here- she keeps staring off into space. It's not healthy.." Jessica admits.
"She's six months old, Jess. Of course she's going to be staring off, it's what they do. Why do you get sick when you come? Did you really hate him that much?"
"I never said that!" Jessica huffs, but slowly takes in a deep breath to not raise her voice. "I don't feel comfortable coming here and you bringing River anymore..."
The young father swallows, looking off to the side slightly as Jessica kept speaking, but he mainly tuned her out. This didn't make any sense to him. He's been trying, god knows he has. He has been trying to understand why Jessica hates his brother, but everything he comes up with just ends up flat. It's not fair, though. Jess can not come if she doesn't want to, but he wants his daughter to come. Why can't she just come with him?
"Hey- hey, don't give me that look." Jessica says gently, a hand being placed onto Sam's cheek. "I'm not saying you can't keep coming to visit and do your brother thing, you can still come all you want."
"It won't be the same without you two." Sam says a bit somber, looking down at his daughter, gently rubbing her back and holding her a bit closer.
"I'm sorry, Sam... but it's just how it's going to have to be." Jessica moves her hand slightly to Sam's chin, holding him in place for a small second before giving him a small kiss to his cheek before taking a step back, a sad smile on her lips. "We can still have a picnic, just maybe somewhere else. How about we go to that little park next to the tv store? That place is never busy and has lots of flowers that River can play with."
"I guess you're right..." He mumbles, still not even looking up to see his fiance's eyes.
Jessica gave another gentle smile, "Okay, then let's go. I'll put River in her seat."
Sam gave a small nod and carefully hands over the sleeping child, not wanting to accidentally hurt her. Jessica takes the child graciously before turning back over to face the car and pull open the back door to place her into the flower and butterfly car seat placed inside. Somehow the little girl stayed asleep during the whole endeavor. Sam gives another sad sigh, shaking his head. He didn't want to go yet, they had only been there for like five minutes. It wasn't fair to him, wasn't fair to River, and it sure as hell wasn't fair to Dean.
However, he didn't want to upset Jessica now that she seemed to be a little happier. Who was he to disturb that. Taking in one deep breath, Sam turns to go walk to the driver side of the car and gives one last glance over to the cemetery behind him, but pauses for a moment. His eyes narrowed slightly. Maybe it was just the sun or the angle he was looking at, but someone was there. Sam could tell. Right where Dean, Aunt Kate, and Uncle Mike's graves were, stood someone hidden by the shadow of the sun.
"I'll be right back." Sam mumbled before leaving his spot.
Carefully, he walks back into the cemetery, closing the gate behind himself. The further he walked, the closer he got, and the clearer the person seemed to be. It wasn't just his imagination. Once Sam got back up to the graves, he took a much closer look at the man. This stranger was wearing a suit, a black one with a blue and green tie wrapped around his neck, arms hanging by his sides. Dark pitch black hair with a small scuffle of a beard that looked to not have been shaved in a couple of days. Yet, this person's eyes were a bright shade of blue, staring down at his brother's grave. Not looking at the gravestone, but at the grass underneath him.
"Uh, Hi." Sam greets, a bit awkwardly.
Yet, the individual did not respond, so Sam tried again.
"My name is Sam, Sam Winchester." He prompts, yet again, no reply. "What's your name?" He asks.
"Why did you bury him?" The stranger speaks.
It sort of threw Sam off guard, not expecting that sort of response from the other. At least he knew that the other could speak. "I uh- come again?"
"Why did you bury him?" The man repeats, now looking up from the grass and up to Sam.
However, those blue eyes were very intimidating. It felt like the other was staring at his very soul in a way. The young father swallows, coughing slightly before giving a small shrug.
"I'm not sure... everyone else in my family has been buried. As far as I'm aware at least. Dean was always big on family, so I assumed that he would want to be close to us and buried next to our aunt and uncle." Sam explains.
"The same aunt and uncle that abused him?" He questions.
Sam glares, "Not cool, buddy."
"I am not your, buddy . You will not refer to me as such." The man demands.
Sam puts his hands up slightly, trying to show that he didn't mean any harm behind his words. "Sorry, but that's not nice of you to say. Dean wasn't abused, he just had a harder life living with them."
"Broken wrists and scars tell a different story." The stranger states, looking back at the headstone. "He wouldn't have wanted this."
"And you know him well enough to know what he would have wanted." Sam shot back, but went silent at what the man spoke next.
"He wouldn't have wanted this. He would have wanted a hunter's funeral. To be burned on a pile of logs and wrapped in satin. Preferably, on a beach if at all possible. Then have a giant open bar with Bon Jovi and Styx blasting in the background, even if it was just off of a CD collection." The man put his hands into his pockets as he continued. "He'd want as many people to come as possible. The Harvelle's, the twins, even an old psychic friend of his down in New Orleans. Even if their last meeting ended with a hex bag being hidden in the trunk of his impala."
The brother stayed quiet, not sure what to say to that. Sam didn't even think about inviting the Harvelle's. Wait, did he even ever call them and tell them that Dean died? Also, he has never seen a hunter's funeral, how would he have known what to do for it? A bar would have been out of the question due to the very religious nature of the town that they were in. Twins? Psychic friend? Those people had never been mentioned to him. How much of his brother did he not know? Worst of all, who the hell is this man?
"I don't need some stranger to criticize me over my brother's damn grave. Especially, when I don't even know your name. You mustn't have been important to him I've never seen a picture." Sam bites back.
"I'm Castiel." The man said simply, looking back at Sam.
However, Sam's face falls, eyes widening slightly. "Castiel... not- not Cas, right?"
"That is a name that your brother would like to call me." The stranger states, turning his body to face Sam more directly.
Sam shakes his head, scoffing slightly. However, a sense of anger grew inside of him, before taking a step forward and shoving Castiel back a good foot away from him. "You're supposed to be dead!"
The man, now known as Dean's long lost friend, lets out a small sigh, and looks up at the sky above the two of them. "It appears that heaven had one last cruel mission for the two of us. So it appears death isn't permanent for people like us."
"Like us... are you psychic?" Sam questions.
Castiel laughs, actually gives a small chuckle while shaking his head. "Don't wish that curse upon me as if it were a blessing. No offense, Sam. However, I would never want such a thing to plague my life the way it does yours. Although, your brother did see it as more of a unique and awesome thing about you."
"Then what are you?" The young man asks, taking a step forward.
Now, this is what made the stranger pause. Mouth opened slightly before closing shut, as if the words on his tongue weren't the ones that needed to be spoken. Castiel swallows slightly, before folding his arms across his chest, his eyes glancing back at Sam. "A human who needs your help."
Sam lifts a brow. "My help? To do what?"
...
"To bring my Dean Winchester back home."