Work Text:
This was not what Sam had expected to find when he finally tracked down Castiel. Three nights ago, she’d been in bed watching NetFlix with Sam curled up to her as he fell asleep. When he woke up the next morning, she was gone, no sign of her in the Bunker or in town, even Jack had no idea where his mother had gone. Sam had a lot of experience tracking people who didn’t want to be found, but this one… three days shouldn’t have him so impatient, but he was. This wasn’t some random person. This was his best friend, the woman he and his brother were raising a son with, one of the two people alive he could let see the broken mess of duct tape and safety pins he was inside. He could not lose her again.
The tip came from Claire. She and Kaia had spotted a woman who looked like Castiel while on a hunt in North Dakota. She’d approached her to look over her notes about the case, because she was convinced she and Kaia were missing something about it… and Castiel showed no sign of recognizing her, and called her crazy when she mentioned she’d been tracking signs of a ghost. She’d tried praying to her, and though there was no response or conscious indication that Castiel could hear her, she’d started to look uncomfortable and focused even harder on the tea she was sipping.
According to Claire, the woman was calling herself Stephanie. Sam found her at the same café Claire had seen her at, once again having tea in the mid-afternoon. “Stephanie?”
“Stephanie” looked up at him, squinting the same way Castiel did when she was confused. “Do I know you? You look… familiar.”
The voice was certainly right, too. Sam was convinced that this was Castiel, and he just needed to figure out how to convince her of that. “We used to work together, I think. Before you came here. You and my brother were pretty good friends?” Not a lie, but enough there that there might be a conflict with whatever backstory Stephanie had invented for herself or had invented for her by whatever took her. If she’d never worked, for example.
Castiel shook her head, looking back down at the tea in her hands. “I’m sorry, I don’t… if we were friends, why don’t I remember you? Who’s your brother?”
“Dean Winchester.” That got a reaction out of Castiel, but she didn’t acknowledge the slight jump beyond a slight tensing of her body. “And I’m Sam, by the way, since you don’t remember me.”
“Hello, Sam.” There was a pause while Castiel processed that. “I don’t remember you, so I see little point in prolonging this conversation.
Sam wished he could say he was surprised by Castiel’s dismissal, but he really couldn’t. He could still ignore it. “What about Jack Kline? Do you remember him?”
This time, the flinch was so big that there was no way Castiel could pretend it hadn’t happened. She could, however, ignore it as she glared at Sam. “Go away. Leave me alone. Are you working for that horrible woman who was here yesterday, trying to tell me a whole bunch of nonsense? Claire? Because I told her, and I’ll tell you: I have no idea what you’re talking about. No idea who Jack Kline is or Dean Winchester or Sam. Leave, now, or I will call the police.”
“Here’s the thing, I think you do. I think you know who Jack is. You just won’t let yourself remember, for some reason. You know who Dean is, who I am… but you won’t let yourself. Claire’s not a daughter to you quite the same way Jack’s your son, but…”
Castiel hit her feet. “Jack is not… I don’t have children.”
Which would be why Sam hadn’t brought Jack on this one. As much as Jack had wanted to come, he did not need to hear that kind of thing. “You do. You adopted Jack before he was even born. You, me, Dean, Kelly… we’re all raising Jack, thanks to you. You saved Kelly’s life. She was so weak for so long, and you… whoa!” Sam jumped back as Castiel took a swing at him. If it were just her fist, Sam would have taken it in the hopes of snapping Castiel out of this, but she had her angel blade in her hand. If it came down to it he’d let Castiel stab him, but there had to be better ways to try first. “You died, giving your life to save Kelly. With her too weak to do much and you dead, Jack latched onto me. It didn’t go well at first, because Dean…” Sam trailed off again as Castiel came at him, blocking a couple swings without fighting back. “Dean blamed him for you being dead, and let Dean convince him that I only cared about him because I thought I could use him to get you back. It didn’t help that I was still a little afraid of him, of course. By the time we’d had a chance to talk and I could undo the damage Dean did, he’d already called out to you and made it possible for you to come back. I think as much as anything I said, realizing we had you back and I still cared about him and wanted to help him grow is what convinced him that Dean was wrong about me.”
Castiel faltered a little bit, but came on stronger than ever now. “You’re lying. People don’t just come back from the dead. I’m not… you’re crazy.”
“I’m not crazy.” Sam ducked another swing, but this time, Castiel managed to connect with a punch from her free hand. He went down, and Castiel jumped on him. “Cas, please. Don’t do this.”
“I am not Cas!” She raised her blade, ready to strike.
One last thing to try, before letting her stab him and have to take him to Jack for healing or resurrection. Enochian was difficult for him, a mental block caused by associating it with Lucifer and the Cage and the torture he’d gone through when Gadreel was possessing him and Dean was trying to force him out, but he could usually pull it off when he needed to. “I swear on my life, you’re my beloved, my Castiel.”
The blade wavered, and dropped from Castiel’s hand. “Sam…?”
“Cas.” She recognized him. Thank God. “What happened?”
“It’s… it can wait.” Castiel stood up, offering Sam a hand. “Sam, what you just said…”
“What about it?” Castiel knew how much Sam loved her. He was absolutely sure of that. There was no reason for her to be this shocked by it. Sam could not come up with a plausible explanation for the look of wonder buried underneath confusion.
“I know Enochian can give you problems sometimes, so I just want to be sure you meant that.”
“I meant it, Cas, you know that…” A thought occurred to Sam. “Wait. What, exactly, did I say? Because what I meant to say, you wouldn’t be acting like this. Chances are good I meant it, but let’s just make sure, okay?”
“I know you meant the words, but that particular phrase is very close to a ritual proposal of a life bond. An angel wouldn’t swear on their life, they’d swear on their grace, but you’re human. If any other angels were watching, they would have heard you ask me to marry you.”
…Huh. “Can it be both I didn’t know that but I did mean it? Because the only reason I haven’t asked you to marry me is that I just never have gotten around to asking. I have a ring and everything at home, we don’t have to use it but it’s a ring made by the Men of Letters, spelled to bring good luck and happiness to the person he was going to give it to, but then Abaddon…”
“It can, then,” Castiel decided. “In which case,” she switched to Enochian and reached out to take Sam’s hands, “I swear on my grace, you’re my beloved, my Sam.”