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Castiel’s there when Dean dies.
As if there’s any other plausible option, as if Castiel could be anywhere else at this time but at Dean’s side, holding his hand and waiting.
Even like this, Dean’s still beautiful, his smile still cocky, his eyes still sharp and knowing though they haven’t been bright for a long time. Castiel wouldn’t have predicted a death like this for a soldier, but perhaps that is the irony of it.
Dean’s hand is weak, the knuckles bony and the skin loose and speckled. Castiel holds it gently, just firm enough so that Dean would never ever doubt that Castiel is there, that Castiel’s kept his promise to never leave him.
“Well, shit, son,” Dean rasps, smile turning into a grimace. “Way to make me feel like a cradle-snatcher, Cas.”
Castiel smiles, kisses Dean’s temple. This is a familiar joke, one Dean’s been making for the last decade, maybe longer. Castiel’s long since given up tracking time, because Dean – perfect, wonderful, imperfect Dean – is his anchor, and that’s enough. Castiel doesn’t think about other things, doesn’t think about beyond, or tomorrow, or what else, because Dean still needs him now, still needs him to hold his hand.
“Sam,” Dean says, glancing over at his brother. Sam draws close, reaching out to grasp Dean’s other wrist gently. Castiel understands this, Dean and Sam, Sam and Dean, that’s the way it’s always been. Castiel tries to pull away, to give them privacy, but Dean says, “No. Stay.”
“Of course,” Castiel replies, and doesn’t move.
Sam swallows, his pain more visible than Dean’s, though he’s still upright and walking and strong. He still has things to do. “Dean, you know I—”
“Oh come on, we’ve been here before, Sammy.” Dean tries to wink, doesn’t quite manage it. “You know what you have to do. I don’t think you have much time.”
“Gotcha,” Sam says. He pauses, hovers, tries to think of a better goodbye, but then gives up. Looks at Castiel. “Cas, you should...”
“I’ll be here,” Castiel promises. He strokes the grey over Dean’s temple and ears. “Always.” Sam leaves, but Castiel doesn’t hear him go. How can he, when Dean is looking at him, aged and soft and quietly demanding.
“Cas,” Dean says, serious now. Castiel sits up, ready for any last task. “Cas, you gotta know I love you.”
“I love you, too, Dean,” Castiel replies easily.
“No, no, no.” Dean looks like he wants to sit up, but even the idea of it is exhausting. He settles for moving his fingers, and Castiel clasps them carefully. “You’ve got to remember, okay? After this, you’ve got remember that I love you, and this only...” He coughs, and Castiel rubs his shoulder. “All of this. Everything, everything we’ve ever done, you and me, I only did it because I love you.”
Castiel tries not to laugh. These words don’t come easily to Dean, and it figures that they’d flow so smoothly now. “I know.”
“And it only worked because you love me,” Dean insists. “You do.”
“Of course I do.” Castiel kisses him, Dean’s mouth trembling. “There’s never been any doubt.”
Dean sighs, leans back. He looks so sad, and Castiel wishes he could hold him, crawl on to his bed and pull him close, the way they used to, but Dean’s so weak. It’s a miracle he’s held on this long, but stubbornness has always been his strongest suit.
A rustle of air, and Sam is back. He’s not alone.
“Hello,” Castiel says, though he doesn’t recognize Sam’s companion. “Have you come to see Dean?”
“Dammit, Sam,” Dean growls with surprising strength. “You’re supposed to go—”
“No,” Sam says. He shoots a look at Castiel. “I can’t just walk away. Kali offered.”
Kali smiles at Castiel, puts a hand on his shoulder. Castiel doesn’t like the way she’s looking at him but he doesn’t move. Dean told him to stay.
“I’d heard rumors, but this is exquisite,” Kali says. Her fingers are cool along Castiel’s neck, touching the back of his head. “Very old magic, and it’s held up for years. I am impressed.”
“Dean needs his rest,” Castiel says. Kali makes him uncomfortable, Kali keeps touching him, Kali is making Dean agitated. “He’s very weak and…”
“What happened to the god who did this for you in the first place?” Kali asks.
“Died,” Sam answers.
Castiel watches them worriedly until Dean says “Cas,” and his attention snaps back to where it belongs. “Cas, I love you, okay?”
“Okay,” Castiel says quietly. Dean hears it, and then exhales his last breath.
“It won’t work with you,” Kali tells Sam. She takes a step back, and watches as Castiel leans down, pressing his head against Dean’s stomach and mourns. “The marriage bond can only be tied once.” She pats Sam on the shoulder. “You’re going to find out what happens after.”
Castiel sits up. Dean is no more.
For a moment, he’s scared and tiny and alone, because the world is just that much emptier, just that much darker. He is lost, tetherless.
But.
But now, without the sun blinding his eyes, there are other things to see. So many other things to see, and he hadn’t seen them, because.
Because of Dean.
“Cas,” Sam says, backing way. “You have to remember Dean.”
Castiel stands up slowly. His power unfurls. Souls upon souls, their power denied for years, scream their relief.
“Oh, I remember him.” Castiel lets Dean’s hand go, and carefully closes Dean’s eyes all the way. He turns to Sam; perhaps it’s a blessing that Dean won’t see this. “But I remember everything else now, too.”