Chapter Text
Dean Winchester spent an unusually large amount of his time in graveyards. This one, unlike most, had special significance. Of course he knew his mother wasn’t still buried there, but her headstone remained, a last reminder of her life.
If this went well, he supposed, maybe it would be special for a different reason.
Ignoring the usual sting that accompanied the reminder of his mother’s death, Dean quickly got to work. He had spent months trying to find what he wanted; wasting away the days with unconsciousness and dealing with yesterday’s hangover, and the nights researching until he reached the bottom of the next liquor bottle. One day, he found it. It was a relatively simple spell, too. Simple enough that Dean could do it without telling Sam where he was going or what he was up to. In his opinion, the kid worried about him enough as it was.
So Dean went to the graveyard on his own, and he completed the relatively simple spell on his own, and when the portal opened up in front of him he took his angel blade and he entered the Empty on his own.
It was darker than Dean could ever imagine, a kind of impenetrable darkness so black and vast without the promise of a horizon that it overwhelmed him for a moment. The only surface in sight was the floor, which rippled and distorted Dean’s reflection as he took a tentative step forward.
He wasn’t dead. The universe hadn’t been ripped apart. It was time for him to continue his mission.
Stepping shakily forward, angel blade grasped tightly in his fist (although what good it would do, Dean wasn’t sure) he refused to let himself think about after. He was here on a rescue mission, because that was what they did. He was a Winchester. Even the monsters knew that he valued family far above his own life.
“Cas?” he cautiously called out, starting to move a bit faster. He wasn’t sure exactly how long the portal would be open and he definitely didn’t want to get trapped here. “Cas!”
And then, there was the distant reply. “Dean?”
He was running now, desperate to see him again, his angel, the doorway back to Lawrence the only measure of distance. “Cas? Where are you?”
“Dean?” replied the familiar voice, closer this time, and all of a sudden he was standing right in front of him. Dean never stopped running, ploughing straight into the surprised angel, tears streaming down his face.
“Cas,” was the only word Dean could form and it felt like home on his lips. “Cas, we’ve got to go, there isn’t much time.”
“Dean? How are you here? What’s going on?” Cas demanded, but his terrifying angel-of-the-Lord voice wasn’t as effective when he was clinging to Dean like he was his last lifeline. Which, in a way, he supposed he was.
“I’ll explain later. Look, we’ve got to go. This might hurt a little, I’m sorry, man,” he apologised, before raising the angel blade.
Cas’ eyes widened and he moved to take a step back, never removing his fist from its death grip on Dean’s wrist. “Do you trust me?” Dean asked, and Cas didn't even hesitate before he nodded.
Cas’ grace shone blindingly in the darkness of the Empty, a thin ribbon of silvery-blue which arced through the air into the small glass vial Dean had brought with him. It looked like mercury, sliding around as Dean fumbled the lid on in time to catch Cas as he collapsed.
“Come on buddy, we’re nearly there.” He picked the former angel up bridal style, shoving the vial in his pocket, and he ran. His arms ached and his legs screamed and he was gasping for air but the portal was right there, it’s right there, and it’s pulsing and fading and they were both gonna get trapped there forever. Dean started to think that maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, at least they would be together, but he pushed even harder, sprinted even faster, throwing himself through the doorway at the last possible moment, tripping over his own feet and ending up with his face in the dirt.
He lay there for a moment, face down on some poor guy’s grave, and he laughed a full, rich laugh that he didn’t recognise as his own.
Eventually, he rolled over to face the sky, a wide grin on his face. It was finally time for after. “Hey, you never gave me the chance to say it, man. I love you too, dumbass.”
Cas didn’t respond.
Dean sat up a little too abruptly, wincing at his bruised joints. “Cas?”
Cas looked up at Dean, his brows furrowed as if in deep thought. Blood ran down one side of his temple, a matching stain on the headstone beside him.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” he asked, before collapsing into the graveyard dirt.