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Sam walks out of the back door, the creak echoing and too loud in the quiet lull of night. He sees his brother’s silhouette cast in the moonlight as he stands in front of the lake, the darkness not quite claiming him yet. As he approaches, he realizes the looming silence – no crickets or other wildlife – just the barely there tussle of water along the shore.
He takes in the shovel lying by Dean’s muddy boots.
He takes in the whisper of scorch marks shaped like wings on the ground.
He takes in the freshly filled grave where Kelly is buried.
He takes in the partially-dug grave a few feet away, Cas’ body lying beside it with a white sheet coving him.
He takes in his brother’s slightly shaking shoulders and the ache that tightens his own chest.
He releases the breath he’d been holding since stepping outside and sucks in another before approaching Dean again. Dean doesn’t acknowledge him, doesn’t move, but Sam knows his brother heard the door open. He steps up to be right next to him, arms almost brushing, wanting to comfort Dean but also himself. The moon reflects brightly off the lake’s surface.
“I couldn’t keep… digging the grave,” Dean mumbled quietly. “Not… not this time.” Dean turned his head to look at him and Sam’s heart broke when he saw the expression, the flow of tears, the absolute anguish painted across the features there. Sam shook his head and turned to wrap his brother’s shoulders in a crushing hug. It takes a moment for Dean to respond, but when he does his arms circle his brother just as tightly and a soft sob is released into Sam’s shoulder. He moves one hand up to grip the back of Dean’s neck while his brother cries quietly, tears slipping down Sam’s own cheeks too.
“Dean, it’s… it’ll be alright. We’ll find a way to bring him and Mom back. We can get through this. We can,” Sam rambles reassuringly. Dean eventually stops shaking and moves to just rest his forehead on Sam’s shoulder.
“Have you ever wondered… ever wondered what our Heaven will be like?” Dean asks quietly. He had long ago accepted, or rather expected, that their room upstairs would be adjoined given their history and reputation with being separated. He didn’t feel like the world owed him anything, except that.
“Of course.”
Dean snorts softly. “It’s going to be so crowded, you know. Filled with all these amazing, good people we’ve met over this long life… multiple lives… we’ve got to have.” Sam mulls the image around in his head, thinking back on everyone. He pictures it almost like a giant thanksgiving family get-together he never got to have.
Cas. Mom. Dad. Bobby. Ellen. Jo. Charlie. Kevin. Claire. Jody. Garth. Jessica…
Smiles and flannel. Home cooking and beer. Hunting tales and embarrassing childhood stories.
“Yeah,” Sam finally responds, voice choking. “Yeah, Dean. When that time comes, I don’t think it’ll be so bad.”
“I can’t do this without you, Sammy,” Dean says, squeezing his brother one more time before pulling back to look him in the eyes. “You’re all I’ve…” Dean’s eyes flick down to the shovel by their feet then back up to Sam’s. “It’s always you and me. Against the world,” he says with a small smile, tinged with sadness, that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Sam assures, squeezing Dean’s neck once more before dropping his arm to his side. “You want to go on up? Check on Jack? He’s just been sleeping since… yeah.” Sam’s eyes drop down to the shovel and he bends to pick it up. “You can, um, have Cas’ room… if you want. It’s his or Kelly’s,” he finishes, flicking his eyes away from the hurt that flashes across Dean’s face at the mention of the angel’s name. Sam’s grateful there’s no alcohol in the house, worried Dean would drink himself to death, literally. He’d been doing so well, too, Sam thinks with an inward sigh.
“No, Sam, I can do it,” Dean starts, reaching for the shovel in his brother’s hands. Sam reaches out and places a hand on Dean’s chest to stop him.
“Dean, you’ve already buried Kelly. Let me,” Sam pleads. He watches Dean’s eyes look over to the grave he already started for Castiel – look over to see his body still there.
“I can’t just leave him.” It keeps playing over and over again in Dean’s mind. The utter relief he felt when Cas had walked back through the portal. The overwhelming feeling he had to pull him close and not let go. The shock that rocked through him when he looked down to see the angel blade pierced through him and the bright blue light that faded into darkness. Dean screaming out as Cas fell to the ground.
Sam senses his brother isn’t going to go stay inside, so he offers an alternative task. “Why don’t you make his marker instead? Maybe even Kelly’s too, if you want,” Sam suggested. “There should be some twine in the hall closet. I thought I saw it.”
Dean finally takes his eyes from Cas and lets them meet Sam’s again. His lips press into a thin line, but he nods his head once before turning to walk towards the house. Sam inhales and exhales deeply once the door creaks shut, letting his eyes close for a moment.
Sam wonders if they should wait and bury Cas near the Bunker. However, he worries Dean would never move past the grief then. At least here… here he could come visit but maybe he could leave some of his sorrows here as well. They couldn’t cremate Cas in a proper hunter funeral, not knowing Jack’s abilities, or whether they’d get Cas back or not. Sam sends a small prayer to Chuck, hoping that wherever he is, maybe it will still get through.
Dean keeps his mind blank, mindlessly walking through the house to collect supplies. Twine. Black marker. Water for Sam. The closet where the twine is also has a large stock of baby diapers. Dean looks up at the ceiling, thinking he should probably check on Jack. He can’t find it in himself to care.
When he reemerges to the backyard, Sam is already digging. He sits the supplies down on the ground and puts the water bottle close to Sam, earning a grunt in thanks.
Walking over closer to the lake, Dean begins searching for pieces of wood he could make a cross from. Seems only proper. After finding four pieces – he’ll make Kelly one too – he walks back toward Sam and the barely-there glow of the back porch light. He plops down and begins wrapping the twine in an “X” shape to tie the pieces together.
---
“Dean.” He jumps a bit when Sam finally speaks, having been staring at the marker for Cas in his hands, Kelly’s already in the ground. He looks up to find the same pain ripping through his chest reflected on his brother’s face, the sweat and tears mixing together on his cheeks. “It’s ready,” is all Sam says.
Ramblers in the wilderness we can’t find what we need.
We get a little restless from the searching…
Dean stands up and walks over to the top of the grave, positioning the cross in the center, before pushing it down into the dirt. He has to push a few more times before it’s stable.
Get a little worn down in between.
His tear-filled eyes meet Sam’s and they both walk towards Castiel, Sam climbing down into the hole. He nods and Dean knows he will never be ready to do this. He crouches down anyway.
Like a bull chasing the matador is the man left to his own schemes.
Everybody needs someone beside em’ shining like a lighthouse from the sea.
Sam lifts his arms so he can catch Cas when he is handed to him. Dean can’t remove the sheet, so he leaves it in place, and tucks his hands under Cas’ shoulders before he making eye contact with Sam again to shift the upper half of their friend to him.
Brother let me be your shelter.
Never leave you all alone.
I can be the one you call
When you’re low.
Dean circles around and sits on the edge of the grave, hands clasping around ankles, but tears block his vision. He blinks rapidly to clear them, knowing Sam needs him to hurry. As he slides in, Cas comes with him, so that both brothers are holding him up.
Brother let me be your fortress
When the night winds are driving on.
Be the one to light the way.
Bring you home.
They both slowly lower the angel to the ground. Dean doesn’t let go of the cold ankles beneath him. He sees spots begin to form on the white sheet, darkened by the tears he can’t stop again. Sam is crouched down with his elbow propped on a knee, crying into his arm. For Cas, for his mom, for even Crowley. For Dean. The reality of placing their friend in a grave rolls over him like a tidal wave and pulls him under.
Face down in the desert now there’s a cage locked around my heart.
I found a way to drop the keys where my failures were
Now my hands can’t reach that far.
After time passes and Sam’s legs ache more than his chest and his tears have stopped coming, he stands. Dean is still kneeling and he walks to him, gently gripping his shoulder. “Come on,” he whispers softly, not trusting his voice. Dean grips Sam’s forearm, and when the gesture is returned, is pulled to his feet where he looks at his brother, grateful to still have him by his side.
I ain’t made for a rivalry, I could never take the world alone.
I know that in my weakness I am stronger.
It’s your love that brings me home.
Sam helps push Dean back topside before climbing out himself. He sees his brother still sitting on the ground, leaning back on his hands, staring up at the sky where slivers of daybreak threaten inky black.
“I know…” Dean’s voice comes out cracked and scratchy so he clears it and tries again. “I know we should say a few words. That’s what you do, right?” Dean still looks towards the sky.
“Cas would say he doesn’t understand, considering he can’t hear you,” Sam replies, but his humor is dimmed by the situation.
“And I would explain to him it’s just another weird thing humans do,” Dean says, giving Sam that sad smile again.
Brother let me be your shelter.
I’ll never leave you all alone.
I can be the one you call
When you’re low.
Sam grabs the shovel again and Dean finally looks at him. He sighs and heaves himself to his feet, reaching for the other shovel unused until now. “You can say something, if you want. I can leave for a minute, or –”
“No!” Dean responds quickly, then looks down. “I mean, no, it’s okay. You can stay.” He walks over to the dirt pile and pushes the shovel in with his boot. Sam does the same and waits patiently.
“I can’t believe after all these years… that the angel I’m burying is the same one who learned about the “pizza man” and had personal space issues and was basically a baby in a trench coat half the time.” Dean felt his words get watery but he kept talking. “I can’t believe… that I’ve lost my only best friend other than Sammy,” he says, looking at his brother, then back at the white sheet. “I’ll see you again one day, Cas. I promise.” As the first dirt falls down and hits the sheet, Dean wonders if he will stop crying – if he can just finish this it will be okay. As okay as he can get anyway. Dean has to bring his angel back. Bring him home.
Brother let me be your fortress
When the night winds are driving on.
Be the one to light the way.
Bring you home.
And when you call,
And need me near.
Say it when you go –
Brother, I’m right here.
And on those days,
When the sky begins to fall,
You’re the blood of my blood.
We can get through it all.