Chapter Text
Chapter 1
"No Sign of Love Behind the Tears"
"I'm dead to you now."
The words were venom in Castiel's mouth, burning his lips as he spoke them. The fact that they bore truth did little to assuage the pain they inflicted on both of them. It was a pain so great that they could not even look at each other.
Cas knew what had to be done. Yet, he was not sure that he could bear it. He could not even begin to imagine what his life would be like from then on out.
When he managed to steal a glimpse of Dean, the sight almost tore Castiel apart. Tears pooled in Dean's soulful green eyes, but he allowed none to leak. Nothing in all of God's creation hurt Castiel more than when Dean suffered.
In the short time they'd known each other, Castiel had done almost as much harm to Dean as he'd done good. His intentions for Dean were never less than best, but the road to Hell was not paved with bad intentions. Perhaps they would both be better off, somehow, some way.
For the life of him, Castiel could not understand how humans could lie with such ease. Dean did it for a living, tricking police officers and hustling pool. But Castiel, he couldn't even fool himself. This was not good for him in any way whatsoever.
As he started to leave, Castiel took one last look at Dean. Sorrow puddled in his eyes, uttering the words Castiel longed to hear but that Dean's mouth would never speak. Castiel searched Dean's eyes for any signs of love, but, as had been the case since Mary's death, Castiel saw only misdirected anger.
As an angel, and the angel meant to protect Dean at that, Castiel could sense Dean's thoughts. Dean did not want Castiel to go, but he did not want to be around the angel, either. Also, Castiel could hear Dean's pride warring with his emotions. Dean would never ask Castiel to stay.
So, Castiel ambled out of the bunker, and Dean did not try to stop him. But a Coldness swept over both of them like a February wind when they separated, freezing them like they'd never felt before. Even inside the bunker, Dean could feel the chill enveloping his body. All he wanted to do was lay in his bed beneath layers of blankets.
Outside, the Coldness made the Kansas winter seem like summer in Miami to Castiel. He gasped for breath against bitter air, even though angels did not need to breathe. His heart felt as though it were a concrete block sinking into a dirty black river.
To block out the irritating sensation in his heart, Castiel tried to focus his mind on practical matters. What would he do now? Where would he go? Heaven was not an option. He would have to stay on earth, and find a purpose for himself without Dean, Sam or Jack.
But not that night.
Much as he tried, Castiel could not ignore his heart. In all his years with the Winchesters, he'd seen the damage Dean, and to a lesser extent, Sam, had done to themselves by discarding their emotions. Prior to meeting the Winchesters and experiencing life as a human, Castiel could move like a well oiled machine, a perfect soldier of God. That was no longer possible, and he understood that.
Although he surmised that the Coldness was more within him than outside of him, Castiel decided that he needed a warm bed for the night. He opened the door to the Rojo Roof Motel, trying not to let it remind him of all the hotels he'd stayed in with Dean and Sam before they'd learned of the existence of the bunker. Granted, this was a much nicer place than most of the ones the boys stayed in. The lobby boasted a little coffee bar with muffins and fresh fruit, large leather couches in front of a flat screen TV, a desktop computer and small tables equipped with checkers boards and playing cards.
Behind the desk, a girl held a phone to her ear with her chin and clacked away on her computer. She was a pretty young woman with long black hair, big brown eyes and oversized earrings that touched her shoulders. Her uniform shirt was unbuttoned a bit too low to be professional, and Castiel caught a glimpse of the white gold cross ✝ around her neck and the tattoos on her chest and arms.
When she hung up the phone, she grinned and motioned for Castiel to approach. "Hello! Welcome to Rojo Roof! My name is Paula! How may I help you?"
"Hello Paula," Castiel said. He was polite but unable to match her enthusiasm. "I'd like a room for the night, please."
Paula tapped some buttons on her computer.
"I have a room with a king bed or two queen beds for $100, or I have a king suite for $200," Paula offered.
"The king bed is fine," Castiel mumbled.
It wasn't as if he was actually going to sleep, or that anybody would be joining him. Part of him still didn't even get why he felt such a powerful urge to come here in the first place.
With a nod, Paula clicked the mouse. "Okay, I need your ID and credit card, please." Castiel obliged, and she typed his information into the computer. "Okay, Mr. Jones, you're all set. You're in room 232, upstairs overlooking the pool. We have hot breakfast here every morning from 6-9. If there's anything you need, just call the front desk, alright?"
Castiel thanked her and took his fake items and his room key. Paula smiled and waved as he exited the lobby, but he could not bring himself to reciprocate. Putting one foot in front of the other seemed to drain all of his energy, and he wondered if he would even make it to his room.
His room was much nicer than most of the places he'd frequented with the Winchesters. The bed was enormous, quite unlike the twin beds back at the bunker. The sheets had no cigarette burns. Everything was clean and modern, the large plasma TV in particular. Castiel couldn't help but picture how much Dean would love watching a football game on it. The bathroom was spotless, with a big bathtub. Perhaps hot water would rip the Coldness out of him.
No. All Castiel wanted to do was lie in the bed.
So Castiel curled up beneath the warm covers. The heater rattled on, but still the Coldness engulfed him. No, it wasn't Coldness. It was Emptiness. A hole that no material in Creation could fill. Castiel began to pray for Death, the only way to ease this immeasurable pain. But it was then that Castiel realized that he would never die. When he'd made the deal to save Jack, the Empty had told him that It would come from him when he was truly happy.
But Castiel would never know true happiness again. So he would live forever, carrying a weight that even the infinite strength in his shoulders could not bear. Part of him cursed the day he was assigned to rescue Dean Winchester. Part of him damned the day that beautiful, wretched man taught him how to feel. How blissful it was before Castiel could hurt.
No. With Dean Winchester, Castiel had known friendship forged out of similarities and challenges, not blind obedience; and forgiveness for mistakes as opposed to smiting. With Dean Winchester, Castiel had learned goodness that was worked for, that often fell short but never stopped trying. With Dean Winchester, Castiel had experienced something that angels were not allowed to feel: Love.
No. For all of the pain in the world, and this felt like being stabbed over and over with angel blades while trapped in holy fire, Castiel would never dream of sacrificing his decade with Dean Winchester. Humans always said that time heals all wounds. At some point, he would feel better, though never as joyful as he was with the Winchesters. Until then, he would just have to muddle through this Coldness and Emptiness.
Muddled. What a perfect word for it. Castiel's mind was muddy and confused. Nothing made sense. Dean had acted as if he no longer needed Castiel, and he'd said that Cas was the reason that so much went wrong in their lives. He even went so far as to blame Castiel for Rowena's death, not even caring about the imminent danger posed by an all powerful demon. But it couldn't be so. Castiel needed Dean like the sun needed the moon. Surely Dean must have felt the same.
Once, Castiel had read about the five stages of grief that humans went through after the death of a loved one. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. After Mary's homicide, Sam reached the Acceptance stage. Dean never moved past the Anger stage. That had to be the reason for the distance between them. Dean just had to still need him. He just had to.
A few thoughts of Sam squeezed themselves into Castiel's mind in between numerous thoughts of Dean. Never once had Sam blamed Castiel for Mary's death. Even though he'd lost his mother as well, he could see beyond his anger and sadness. Sam understood that neither Cas nor Jack had ever wanted anything to happen to Mary. In fact, Sam always gave Cas the benefit of the doubt, and he was always patient with Castiel's errors.
Yet, Castiel had never cared for Sam the way he did Dean. Oh, he loved Sam, and he was always there for him. But it wasn't the same. Perhaps it was the profound bond that he shared with Dean. Perhaps it was much more than that. Still, he wished that he'd been more appreciative of Sam. Sam would never, ever make him hurt like this.
Castiel's mind ached from all of these conflicting ideas. He rubbed his temples, but it did not help. With his eyes opened, he saw how intolerably alone he was. When he shut his eyes, he saw Dean's heart broken look as he left him; the look that would haunt him for all eternity.
The neon clock glowed 1am in red letters. Castiel could not stand another second of this. He dragged himself out of the bed and out the door. At first, he considered finding a liquor store to drink. That sure helped dull the pain of God leaving. But when the buzz wore off, only Dean could take the sickness away. Castiel did not want to go through that again, especially without Dean.
Chapter 2
Paula
None of the nearby businesses in this sleepy midwestern town were open at this time of night. The only light was coming from the hotel lobby. That might work. There was a TV in there, and he wouldn't be alone.
The lobby was eerie and silent at that late hour. The TV was on at a very low volume, showing a black-and-white movie from the forties or fifties. The bright lights in the middle of the dark night somehow made the room seem unnatural and uninviting. Yet, Castiel could think of nowhere else to go, so he stepped in.
"Welcome to Rojo Roof Motel! How may I… oh, hello Mr. Jones!" Paula the innkeeper cheered. She pressed her finger onto the page of her book and closed it.
Mr. Jones? Oh, yes, it was his fake ID: John Paul Jones, like the singer from Led Zeppelin. Dean loved Zeppelin. He sometimes used the ID of John Bonham. Cas would not let himself think on that.
"Hello," Castiel said, pasting on a weary smile.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" She asked.
Rubbing his neck, Castiel answered, "I can't sleep. I'm…" There was something about her kind smile. Castiel couldn't help but tell her. "... Lonely."
Paula nodded. "I'm happy you came here. I'd sure love the company."
"What are you reading?" Castiel inquired.
"Supernatural by Carver Edlund. It's so scary," Paula said. Castiel winced, and she frowned. "You're not a fan?"
Castiel shook his hand. "No, I… I just got a pain, that's all. I love Supernatural. Which one are you reading?"
Paula showed him the cover. "Bugs. Have you read this one?"
What a relief. Castiel was not mentioned in this book, as he had not yet rescued Dean from Hell. That meant she might not figure out the truth of his identity. It wasn't that he was ashamed in any way. He just was not up to explaining anything about Chuck. Chuck, his Father, who had killed Jack right in front of him, who'd chosen to end the world in order to spite Castiel, Sam and Dean: Castiel did not want to talk about it.
"It's a good one," Castiel stated.
"Yes it is," Paula agreed. "But scary. A swarm of bees is after Sam and Dean." When Paula shivered, Castiel felt safe enough to do the same. "I'm writing a paper on this for my Lit class."
"You're in college?" The girl nodded. "What are you studying?"
"I'm majoring in Religious Studies. I graduate in May, and then I'm going to Gettysburg to Seminary." Paula's eyes sparkled as she described her dream.
Castiel's heart was heavy for the girl. The joy on her face was beautiful. Yet, there was so much she did not, could not, know. The God she was dedicating her life to had started another Apocalypse, and He took off when His children needed Him most. If Castiel and the Winchesters didn't find a way to stop Chuck, everyone would die long before Paula could hold her Bachelor of Arts Degree in her hands. Unbeknownst to most creatures, Chuck could be a petty, insecure Being who cared more about a good story than the lives of the characters in His novels.
But Castiel kept all of that to himself. Paula was too lovely to let down. She deserved to chase her dreams as long as she could. So, he congratulated her, and she thanked him.
"So, which Supernatural book is your favorite?" Paula asked.
Pondering it for a moment, Castiel replied, "Lazarus Rising."
"Oh! That's a good one!" Paula agreed. "The angel Castiel is my favorite character. I wish I could meet a real angel, just like Dean did."
Castiel was so thankful that he wasn't human. If he was, his cheeks would have flushed a bright red. It would have been a dead giveaway.
"Real angels are in your life. I promise you that," Castiel declared. Paula beamed in delight.
"You know, you sort of look like the angel Castiel, with the trenchcoat," Paula pointed out.
Castiel was quick to change the subject. "Which book is your favorite?"
Without hesitation, Paula stated, "Lucifer Rising and Two Minutes to Midnight. I can't choose between them. I've read them both about twenty times."
Trying to conceal a shudder at the memory of those awful days, Castiel asked, "Those were such sad stories. Why are they your favorites?"
"Well, Two Minutes to Midnight is just awesome… Dean getting to meet Death and Pestilence! Imagine, getting payback on the being that caused Cancer, AIDS, even the God awful common cold!"
Castiel could not contain a quick smile. Of course it would seem cool to a young lady reading what she assumed to be a fictional novel. In retrospect, it was cool, having tamed one of Creation's worst monsters and making an uneasy truce with the entity that humans feared most in the world. But, it was also painful. How could she understand the dizzying headaches from the Meningitis and the burn in his loins from the Syphilis? How could she relate to the unbearable pain of watching Dean in agony? How could she comprehend the fear Castiel felt when Dean confronted Death Himself?
"And, as for Lucifer Rising, well, this will probably sound silly," Paula continued. "But I am the world's biggest Destiel shipper. And Lucifer Rising is the first time you see how much Castiel loves Dean. Castiel loves Dean enough to turn away from Heaven and lose all of his angel friends. It's so beautiful!! Paula frowned. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"
The pain became too much for Castiel. Everything Paula had just said could not have been more accurate. Castiel had liked Dean from the moment that he rescued him from Hell. They grew closer and closer as time progressed. But, when Dean begged Castiel for the chance to save humanity from the apocalyptic battle between Michael and Lucifer, and Castiel deceived Zacariah for Dean, it was all over. When Castiel carved his hand open in order to save Dean from destruction at the hands of the archangels, Castiel knew that he loved Dean Winchester. Love was still a fuzzy concept to him, and he didn't quite know how the depth of his feelings. But, in Lucifer Rising, Castiel realized that he did love Dean.
It had been Castiel's intention to keep his hurt to himself. He hadn't even noticed that her description of his affection for Dean, albeit through fictional characters to Paula's knowledge, had caused him to wince. But he could feel the furrow in his brow now, the pit in his stomach, the urge to cry, scream and get drunk all at the same time.
Before he could answer, Paula handed him a bottle of water with the hotel's insignia on the label. Angels did not need water, and he doubted that it would ease any of his symptoms even a little bit. But Paula was so kind, and real kindness had been absent in his life for a very long time. Of late, Castiel had known nothing but death, grief, war, distrust, resentment, struggle and fear. It had grown tiresome long ago.
So, Castiel sipped the water. It was cold. Humans loved cold water, even though it hurt their bodies. It tasted of hydrogen and oxygen, which wasn't very pleasant.
Then, Paula placed her tiny hand on top of Castiel's. Even though her skin was icy, Castiel felt warmth rushing through him. Kindness was much more powerful than Castiel could have ever imagined. It wasn't that she was curing him the way that he could with his angelic powers. The hurt was still in every inch of his being. But, a part of him that he'd put to sleep for so long was stirring at her touch. He found that he liked that part of him being awake.
"Mr. Jones? Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?" Paula asked, concerned.
"No, no, I'm okay," Castiel answered. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm not really sick. I'm…" he hesitated, but not for long. For some reason, Castiel felt like he could trust Paula. "...I'm sad."
"If you don't mind my asking, what's wrong?"
Castiel said, "I had to leave someone I love."
"You have a broken heart," Paula whispered. Castiel nodded, looking down at the floor. "Oh, I'm so sorry." Still holding his hand, she led him to one of the leather couches. "Why don't you sit on down and relax. You still look a little pekid." They sat down on the couch. "Would you like to talk about it?"
Castiel murmured, "I don't want to keep you from your work."
"It's okay. I need a break from the rush," Paula laughed, gesturing to the empty room.
For a moment, Castiel considered just what he should tell Paula. Some details could not be revealed, such as the truth about Jack the nephilim and the circumstances of Mary's death. But, he could share some of his story with her. It just might do him some good, opening up to an outsider.
"I was living with my best friend and his brother. Everything was good. But their mother died, and my best friend couldn't take it. He has been angry all the time, and he kept pushing me away. We had one last bad fight, and I left our bunk...er apartment. I left our apartment," Castiel relayed.
"Oh, oh that's so sad. I'm so sorry."
"My best friend and his brother, they're the only real family I've ever had. I feel like I've lost everything."
Paula bit her lip. "Do you mind if i tell you what I think?" Castiel nodded. "Well, I think you did the right thing, giving your friend some space. He needs to heal, and some people need to be alone to do that. But, please, don't stay away too long. Your friend, once he gets past his anger at his mother's death, and he thinks he's lost you too, well, it's gonna hurt like hell. He's going to need you. All I'm trying to say is, don't give up on him, or yourself. If you need him in your life, don't let him go without a fight. You deserve happiness too. Don't lose sight of that, either."
Moved almost to tears by her words, Castiel could only murmur a simple, heartfelt, "Thank you."
"You're welcome." She paused again. "If I'm completely honest with you, I think there's more to it than you've told me, but it isn't my place to press."
Shaking his head, Castiel inquired, "How old are you?"
"I'm twenty-two."
"You're so young to be so wise."
"It's the wisdom of experience, unfortunately. When I was a junior in high school, I was dating a senior named Eli. He was so handsome, and he had the most amazing car that his dad had given him for his birthday. I was head over heels for him. One night, we went to a party at one of his friend's house. It was a wild party, lots of drinking and drugs. It wasn't really my scene. I was always more of a bookworm, but Eli wanted to go. So, we went to the party, and we started drinking: a lot. At one point, I went to the bathroom. When I came back, I saw Eli kissing a cheerleader named Nadine. I flipped out. I started screaming and crying. I told him to go to hell and that I never wanted to see him again. He told me that he didn't need this. He stormed out. We heard tires squealing. A short while later, Eli called my phone, but I didn't answer.
"Early the next morning, the police showed up at my house. Eli had been calling me when he lost control and crashed into a tractor trailer head on."
Paula's voice cracked. This time, it was Castiel's turn to touch her hand. "I'm sorry. That's awful."
"His parents wouldn't let me attend the funeral. They told me it was my fault he died. I went crazy with grief and guilt. I overdosed on my mother's sleeping pills. While the doctors were trying to save me, I swear I saw Eli. He told me to get back and make better choices for the both of us. The doctors told my parents that my fate was in God's hands. God decided that I should live, and now I live for Him."
"That's why you want to be a pastor," Castiel commented.
"Yes! And when I have my own church, I'll offer youth groups and AA meetings. That way I can help kids avoid the paths Eli and I took."
"That's a beautiful thing you're going to do, Paula. God will be...very pleased with you." Castiel hoped she could not hear his complete lack of belief in his own statement.
"And, what I want to tell you is, well, please don't leave any hurt feelings between you and your friend. Apologize to him, forgive him, tell him you love him. You never know which moment will be the last," Paula advised.
For hours, Castiel and Paula chatted. They discussed every possible topic, from their favorite entertainment to religion to politics to their favorite foods. Castiel enjoyed her company. It was nice, not worrying about the apocalypse and hunting and demons and killer angels. More than that, this distraction from their breakup was blissful.
At around four in the morning, and wow had time had flown by, the front door opened. Paula rose to return to her desk, so that she could assist the guest. Her welcoming smile flipped to an uneasy frown when two men in all black clothing and hoods over their heads entered the lobby.
"Welcome to Rojo Roof! Can I help…"
One of the men aimed a gun at Paula, while his partner did the same to Castiel. Castiel stared at Paula with pity. Her whole body began to shake as the man came closer to her. In a weak voice, she begged them not to hurt her and her friend.
"Shut up! Just do as we say, and no one gets hurt!" The man grabbed a hold of Paula's arm and hovered over her at her desk. "Log in to this computer, now!"
With shaky hands, Paula obeyed. Once she was finished, the man shoved her and ordered her to sit next to Castiel. The man laughed as he harvested the identities and credit card information for thousands of hotel guests and rifled through the cash register. Meanwhile, the other man remarked about how good the big game would look on that huge TV.
With each passing second, Castiel grew angrier. He was furious that those men were frightening Paula and robbing innocent people. But, he was also mad at himself. What kind of an angel would allow this to happen? But, what choice did he have? His powers were failing, and he had to preserve them for the imminent battle with Chuck.
After locking the door, the man from the computer strolled up to Paula, a cocky smile on his face. Laughing, he waved her pocketbook in front of her, then passed it to his partner. Castiel's heart thudded as the man caressed Paula's face. She jerked closer to Castiel, which challenged the man.
Pulling her to her feet, the man said, "You're a pretty one. Let's go have a little fun. What do you say?"
"No! Please! I'm going to be a pastor! Please!" Paula pleaded, tears spilling from her big brown eyes.
"Yeah, c'mon Karl. We gotta go," the man with the gun added. His fearful eyes darted uneasily between the hostages and the front door.
"Just shut up! There's nothing to worry about!" Karl tugged Paula, placing a hand where it did not belong. "C'mon Sweetheart…"
Castiel had had enough.
"Let her go. You got your money. Now get out of here," Castiel stated. The men just ignored him.
So, Castiel leaped off of the couch and stood toe-to-toe with the man with the gun.
"Mr. Jones! No! He'll kill you!" Paula cried out.
Before the man with the gun could twitch towards the trigger, Castiel placed his fingers on his temple. A second later, the man collapsed onto the floor. Paula gasped in astonishment.
Castiel turned his attention on Karl and Paula then. Determined now, he charged forward. As the angel came closer, Karl aimed his weapon and fired. Paula let out a horrified wail. The sound was unlike anything Castiel had ever heard.
Without missing a beat, Castiel stormed up to Karl. To Paula's amazement and Karl's terror, not one drop of blood stained Castiel's tan trench coat. He showed no signs of injury whatsoever. Just as he had done with the co-conspirator, Castiel touched Karl's forehead, and Karl fell to the floor with a loud thud.
"Are you okay?" Castiel asked, embracing Paula. She shivered and sobbed in his arms. She nodded.
"How… how did you…" she stuttered.
"I haven't been completely forthcoming with you," Castiel admitted. "Jones is an alias. My name is Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord."
"'Castiel'?" Recognition crossed her face.
"The Supernatural books are nonfiction. Everything in it is real."
"The best friend you're heartbroken about…"
Castiel nodded. "Dean."
"And his brother…"
"Sam."
Paula threw her arms back around Castiel. "This is so amazing! Thanks be to God! Thank you so much for saving me."
"You've saved me too, Paula." Castiel thought for a moment. "I know what I have to do now."
Castiel rose to his feet, then helped her up. "Where will you go?" Paula inquired.
"Wherever I'm needed."
"Will I ever see you again?"
Castiel took ahold of her hand and pressed it to the cross around her neck. "If you ever really need me, just say a prayer to me. I'll come if I am able."
Paula nodded. "Are you going to see Dean?"
"I think you're right. He needs more time."
"Did I completely embarrass myself saying that I ship Destiel?"
Castiel chuckled. "No, you're fine. The truth is, I wish he loved me like I love him."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The hunt. The awkward phone call where Dean chastised Castiel for ignoring Sam's messages. Castiel's decision to return to the Winchesters.
The trip to Hell. Rowena's warning about fixing the rift between them before it was too late.
Dean and Castiel discuss the memories Castiel imprinted on Michael. Michael's aid in the spell to lock Chuck in the cage.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 3
Purgatorio
The rift to Purgatory danced in the middle of the bunker, inviting them in. Memories of their time in Purgatory lingered in their minds. For Dean, it had been pure. For Castiel, it had been penance for his sins, but it had also been a constant struggle to protect Dean. They were about to get back on the merry-go-round. The next twenty-four hours in Purgatory were going to be a living hell. Castiel faced another day of constant worrying about Dean and chasing after a flower he didn't know where to begin searching for. All the while, he would be avoiding vampires and leviathans, both hungry for revenge against the Angel who used to smite their brothers.
This time would be much more difficult than the last. Last time, Dean cared for him. So much so that, Castiel thought it best to hide from Dean to keep him safe. This time, Dean had so much malice in his heart that it would take a lot of convincing to persuade Dean to cooperate with him.
"I'm going alone," Dean declared.
"Dean! No!" Castiel protested.
"It's not up for discussion."
"I'm coming with you."
Dean glared at him. "Like Hell you are. You think I can trust you for a second after what happened with Rowena?"
"I think you don't have a choice. Leviathan. Vampires. You can't take them all on alone."
"I'll find Benny."
"There's no guarantee you'll find Benny, and even if you do, you chopped off his head. Remember that?" Dean winced at the memory, and Castiel felt bad for touching a nerve. But he'd hoped he'd made his point. "Dean. Let me help."
Without saying another word, Dean exited the room. This was a fight Dean would not win. If necessary, Castiel was prepared to use his powers to persuade Dean.
Dean returned a few minutes later with a backpack full of water, food and weapons. Castiel tried to forget what it was like to need those things, but he never could. Being an angel was the most incredible thing in the world, but, sometimes, in secret, Castiel wished that he could be human. Not right now, though, not when he could enter Purgatory with no concern about thirst, hunger or safety.
Even though they were in this thing together, the rift between them had not yet been filled it. Dean's defensive posture showed his lingering hard feelings towards the angel. In turn, Castiel was trying not to let the animosity break him down. Even though Dean was mad at him, Castiel still had to focus on protecting Dean.
Still, Dean nodded to the angel and asked if he was ready. Knowing full well that Dean would hate it, Castiel stepped in front of Dean, closer to the portal. Dean grunted, but he placed a hand on the Angel's shoulder.
In the blink of Dean's pretty green eyes, Castiel and Dean emerged in Purgatory. Castiel could hear Dean's uneasy breaths. He felt the same stress. Even though they had both survived an entire year here, and they knew that they could do it again, it was like going to bed on a different night and reliving the same nightmare in vivid detail.
Vivid was not the right word. Nothing about Purgatory was vivacious. Blues, oranges, pinks and purples never painted the sky. Green grass never grew. Even the air and water in Purgatory was a shade of grey. Castiel could not imagine a flower🌹 thriving in Purgatory.
Castiel's ears perked up. He could hear every drop of water flowing in the river and every dead leaf blowing in the breeze. But, much more important than any of those things, Castiel was listening for monsters. So far, the coast seemed clear.
Since neither of them were sure of where to look first, they took off towards the river. They assumed that the flowers would need fresh water, and not much rain fell in Purgatory. Dean stomped a few steps ahead of Castiel, and despite the fact that Castiel was much better, faster and stronger, he stayed a few steps behind. That way, he had Dean's back, quite literally. At least, that was what he told himself.
For miles and miles they trekked, in silence so loud it hurt Castiel's ears. Each time he tried to strike up a conversation with Dean, a one word answer was all he got. Dean still needed time. How much more time could he give him? How much more time did either of them have left?
As evening approached and the light started to fade, Castiel stopped. He ordered Dean to do the same. His senses tingled. A second later, they both heard the crunching of leaves beneath heavy footsteps and agitated snarls.
Three vampires circled around them, two males and one female. All three wore tattered old clothes that dated back to old Transylvania. The men were blonde with golden brown eyes. The woman had red curls and soulless brown eyes.
Dean raised his knife and pushed his back against Castiel. Castiel slid an angel blade out of the long sleeve of his trenchcoat. The vampires hissed and bared their fangs.
The female charged them, and the males followed close behind. Hungrier than the others, the female lunged for Dean. Castiel leaned to strike her with the angel blade, but the males jumped between him and Dean. To them, Dean smelled like a meal, while an angel would not. Castiel punched the male closest to him, stunning it enough so that he could stab it. Meanwhile, Dean swung at the other male and female, too busy trying to fend them off to gank them.
Seeing Dean in danger, Castiel ripped the female off of her feet and threw her away from Dean. That left Dean to fight with the male. Dean lunged forward but was unable to decapitate the vampire. Castiel and the female exchanged punches. She was stealthy and proved a worthy adversary. At one point, she even knocked Castiel to the ground before he ended her with the gesture of his hand.
As this was going on, The male vampire slammed Dean against a tree. Despite Dean's strength and skill, the vampire's speed and lust for blood and revenge could not be matched. The bones of Dean's ankle shattered when the vampire stepped on his foot, and Dean yelped in pain. The vampire smirked as he lowered his lips to Dean's throat.
SWISH!
The vampire's head rolled across the grass like a soccer ball. Without the monster holding him up, Dean collapsed, gripping his injured ankle. His sigh of relief at having survived the attack gave way to anguished groans.
Castiel rushed to Dean's side as he struggled to get upright. He reached a hand out to help Dean, but Dean jerked away from him. It didn't make sense to Castiel. Dean had a very serious injury in a very dangerous place. Any help an angel could give should have been welcomed.
"No," Dean barked, shooing the angel away with his hand. But the pain was too great. He slammed into the tree, using it to hold himself up. "I don't need your help."
No more could Castiel take. "Enough is enough, Dean. Why don't you want anything to do with me?"
"You knew about Jack, and you kept it to yourself. And he killed my mother!" Dean responded. "Forgive me if I don't want to paint your nails and have lingerie pillow fights with you."
"You've blamed me for Mary for months, and I've tolerated it because I know how you are and how you deal with pain. But enough is enough. It is not my fault that Jack killed Mary. Sam knows that. Deep down, you know it too," Castiel pointed out, feeling a heavy weight lifting off of him.
"Don't try to bring Sam into this. Sam isn't the one who had to bury our mother twice." Dean sucked his teeth, his foot throbbing.
Rolling his eyes, Castiel walked over to Dean. His fingers landed on Dean's ankle, fixing all of the broken bones. Dean wiggled his foot and put pressure on it. It felt so much better, but Dean still would not move from the tree to face Castiel.
"Tell me what's really bothering you," Castiel requested, determined to win his best friend back.
"I've told you. My mother's burned bones is what's bothering me," Dean answered.
"Don't lie to me. I can tell when you're lying."
"Dammit, Cas!" In lieu of his usual tone of annoyance, it came out as a desperate, sad plea.
"Tell me the truth!" Castiel demanded.
Dean clutched the tree. Never before had Castiel ever seen his friend so vulnerable. It took all of Castiel's restraint not to wrap Dean in his wings and console him. But it would not have been a good idea. If he tried, Dean would probably pluck out his feathers one by one. Still, Dean reminded Castiel of a lonesome child that longed for the protection of his mother's arms.
"I love you Cas," Dean admitted at last, his voice shaky. Castiel's entire demeanour softened at this tremendous surprise. "I know it's wrong. I shouldn't think about you that way. But no matter how hard I try, I just can't stop it. I've loved you for a long time, and I've tried to pretend I don't. But you've never trusted me like I trust you, and I hate that. My mom's death gave me an excuse to push you away before I got myself hurt." Dean sniffled, burying his face in the tree. He sniggered. "You ready to lock me up in Bobby's panic room yet?"
"Dean," Castiel whispered. "Look at me." With pink, teary eyes, Dean glanced at the angel. "I love you too."
"You better not say something like that if you don't mean it," Dean trembled, a tear rolling down his cheek.
"I thought that you could never love me. It's all I've ever wanted." Castiel stepped closer to Dean.
"But… what will people say if we…"
Before Dean could finish his thought, Castiel pushed his back against the tree and pinned him there. Castiel could hear Dean's heart pounding; he could smell his adrenaline, excitement and fear. The knees of Castiel's vessel almost buckled with nerves and anticipation.
Castiel kissed Dean Winchester. At first, Dean resisted a little, a look of unease on his handsome face. But Dean soon melted into Castiel, closing his eyes and returning his kiss.
Everything about this was so wrong. They both knew it. Castiel had committed one of Heaven's greatest sins when he fell in love with a human. Not to mention the prejudice and stigma that would follow them from intolerant people: though, Castiel suspected that would be more of a problem for Dean. It would be a constant struggle for self control for Castiel. If he lost himself for even a second, with his incredible strength, he could hurt Dean without meaning to. Everything about this was so wrong.
Yet, when they parted from their first kiss, it didn't feel wrong. For the first time in Castiel's existence, he felt whole. For the first time since he left the bunker after Rowena's death, the Fulfilment and Warmth replaced the Coldness and Emptiness.
Castiel had kissed Meg, and he'd made love to a treacherous angel. Those were great. But this was different. This kiss was what he'd seen happen to characters in movies. This was the gift cupids gave to human soul mates. This was what brought Sleeping Beauty and Snow White back from the grave.
This was a True Love's Kiss.
Castiel ached for more. He wanted to feel Dean's body pressed up against his again. He wanted to hear their hearts beating as one.
But Purgatory was not the place for it.
"For No One" by Paul McCartney
Verse 1]
Your day breaks, your mind aches
You find that all her words of kindness linger on
When she no longer needs you
She wakes up, she makes up
She takes her time and doesn't feel she has to hurry
She no longer needs you
[Chorus]
And in her eyes, you see nothing
No sign of love behind her tears
Cried for no one
A love that should have lasted years
[Verse 2]
You want her, you need her
And yet you don't believe her when she says her love is dead
You think she needs you
[Chorus]
And in her eyes you see nothing
No sign of love behind her tears
Cried for no one
A love that should have lasted years
[Verse 3]
You stay home, she goes out
She says that long ago she knew someone
But now he's gone, she doesn't need him
Your day breaks, your mind aches
There will be times when all the things she said will fill your head
You won't forget her