Archive of Our Own

He slowly opened his eyes, his vision adjusting to the alabaster colored walls of the bedroom. He looked over at the alarm clock on his bedside table. 7:26 a.m.

Cas got out of the bed and stretched his arms, yawning. If his experience as a human taught him anything, it was that getting up was harder than falling asleep. He made few steps over to the door, enjoying the feeling of the soft carpet he fought so hard for. 

The tiny kitchen was full of sunlight, one of the reasons why Cas loved the apartment, even though it wasn't much more than a few shoe boxes glued together. He set to preparing coffee with the small, fancy capsule coffee machine he splurged on last month. 

He only sat down with his coffee and was about to check the news when the door opened.

“You awake already? I'm impressed.”

Cas looked up and his eyes landed on Dean, who was sweaty from his morning run, and on top of all that, wearing shorts.

“Hello Dean. You seem to get up earlier and earlier too.”

Dean walked over and took a bottle of water from the fridge, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Well, it's gonna be hot as Hell in like half an hour. Doesn't really leave me much choice.” he explained before drinking the water. Cas nodded in agreement and looked out of the window. The sky didn't seem to have a single cloud.

“I need a shower. Can you make some breakfast?” Dean asked as he left the empty bottle on the counter and waltzed to their tiny bathroom. Cas's eyes lingered on his sweat drenched back for the moment it took Dean to close the bathroom door. Then he stood up again and went to look what food they had. He didn't particularly enjoy cooking and always preffered to leave that to Dean. He didn't even like eating breakfast, but for Dean, it was the main meal of the day. 

It was when he was trying to pull the rogue piece of shell from the eggs when Dean's voice accompanied the sound of the shower coming from the bathroom. Cas smiled to himself.

Dean had beautiful singing voice, even if his repertoire wasn't exactly up to Cas's taste. He would always enjoy listening to him.

It wasn't long before the voice disappeared and soon, Dean joined him in the kitchen area.

“Don't forget the bacon.” he said and sat down at their table. Cas shot him a look.

“I'm not your personal cook, Dean.” he said, although he didn't mind taking care of Dean. He placed the scrambled eggs in front of Dean and sat down with his own plate.

Dean immediately dived into the food while Cas finished his now cold cup of coffee and read the news.

“Dean, listen...” he said when an article caught his attention. “Three dead in Hellen's bridge. Hearts missing.”

Dean looked at him pensively, chewing. “You think werewolves?”

Cas nodded. “Hellen's bridge is not far, three or four hours at most. If we..” he started planning immediately, but Dean waved his hand dismissively.

“Call Sam, have him send someone there.”

“But Dean, we might be the closest...”

“And we're not hunting anymore. Call Sam.”

Cas frowned. Over the past several months, they've had this conversation a few times. They might have retired, settled down, but that didn't mean they couldn't help out, Cas argued. Dean wanted none of it. It was very black and white for him. You're in or you're out, he'd said the first time Cas found a hunt.

“It's not like we have anything better to do...” he said while shooting intense stare at Dean, who put down his fork. Another thing they ought to have resolved already.

“Speak for yourself. I have a job to go to.” he said and Cas frowned even more. 

“Maybe if I could find a job I wouldn't have the time to look for other outlets.” he snapped. He didn't care how careful Dean wanted him to be, he didn't care that the monsters were still out there, and that he was powerless. He couldn't just be sitting on his ass all day waiting for Dean to come to him. Dean noticed his change of mood. Months of adjusting to their new normal, which included the two of them together, did have results.

“Cas, we've talked about this. You need to lie low un-”

“I want to live my life, Dean. Isn't that why you brought me back? Isn't that why we came here?” Cas tilted his head a bit, an old habit from older times, and stared right at Dean. But when the other took too long to answer, Cas sighed and walked away to the bedroom, slamming the door.

One of the many downsides of their tiny apartment was the fact that whenever they fought, Castiel felt like he had no place to hide. He usually ended up occupying the bedroom and feeling guilty for letting Dean sleep on the second-hand couch where he could barely stretch his legs. Sometimes he wished they'd stayed in the bunker, each with their own room and their own space. Other times, when one seeked out the other to apologize, and they shared the bed with the expensive memory foam Dean had to buy, or when they huddled together on the small couch with some movie Dean insisted on watching, even though they usually never made it to the end, these times Cas believed they made the right decision, the only right decision they could've made.

He sighed and run hand through his uncombed bed hair. He understood Dean's worries. As a former angel, and an ..acquaintance of the Winchesters, he was still wanted in the monster world. And even if Jack managed to fix Heaven, there was no guarantee that some angels wouldn't seek retribution for all that he had caused.

His thoughts then turned to Jack and as he was getting dressed, he wondered what his son...what God was doing. If he was watching them, if he sometimes thought of them. Castiel thought of him often. He missed him as Hell, as Dean would say, although Castiel liked to argue that it wasn't an appropriate expression in their case. They've all seen Hell and none of them missed it.

He opened the blinds and let some of that annoying sun in, briefly wondering if he should ask Dean to lend him the Impala to go the store, but then he remembered. They were fighting, of course.

Fights like these were something Castiel was still getting used to. When they had fought the first time, in a dingy motel room, Dean had grabbed his coat and walked out. And Castiel vividly remembered the fear he felt, that Dean was done with him, that he wasn't coming back.

But he had come back with dinner and apology.

“Cas, can we talk?”

He was pulled out of his thoughts and looked in the direction of the door, where Dean stood. He shrugged, but then sighed.

“Of course.”

Dean walked over and sat down on the bed, looking more at the floor than at him.

“Listen, I... I don't want you to feel..useless. Or that I'm holding you back. I don't, it's just,..”

“You worry. I know.” he sat next to him. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Dean. Even if I'm ...powerless.” he assured him.

“Right, but still, we quit.”

“No, Dean. You quit. I've never started.” he corrected, and he immediately felt a bit like an ass, because it didn't really matter. Dean didn't want him to hunt. So he wouldn't.

“I apologize, I...”

“No, you're right. I quit.” Dean interrupted and looked him in the eyes. “But I'm asking you Cas. Don't start.”

Castiel almost opened his mouth to try to reason with him, but something the way Dean was looking at him made him reconsider. If Dean didn't want him to hunt, he wouldn't hunt. So he just nodded.

“I won't.”

He could see Dean's face relax a bit more, his features softer and his green eyes sparkling And if him not bringing up hunting again would make that happen more often, it was worth it.

“Thanks. However, about your job...” Dean stood up and Cas looked at him hopefully. 

“I'll ask around if there are any openings...” he promised and Cas gave him a small smile. Steps like these were all it took to reach destination, after all.

It took more than a week of Dean asking around until he came back home one day, still smelling like car grease, and huge smile plastered on his face.

“I might've found you a job.”

Cas looked up from the crossword he was battling for the last half an hour.

“What job?”

Dean went to the kitchen area for his usual after-work beer. “Joe's sister has a small grocery store a bit out of town. Next to the gas station. She's looking for some help.” he explained. Cas considered it.

“I think I could do that.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. So tomorrow, you'll come with me, and she'll stop by and you can ...you know, discuss it.” Dean continued and looked at him.“So? You're in?”

Castiel smiled.

“Of course. Thank you, Dean.”

Dean patted his shoulder and went to change from his work clothes. Cas was about to go and ask him if he wanted to order pizza for dinner when he heard Dean's phone ringing. It was on the kitchen counter and Cas looked at it.

“It's Sam.” he called out.

“Pick it up.” was the reply from the bedroom.

“But it's your phone.”

“Jesus, Cas, just pick up the phone.”

So he did. Sam was surprised to hear him, but seemed glad. They chatted for a short while, discussing his and Eileen's planned visit, the weather, the usual. Cas was never really comfortable with pointless small talk. Luckily, Dean came out of the bedroom and took the phone from him.

“Heya Sammy..” he chuckled and sprawled on the couch. Cas watched him for a while and then went ahead and ordered the pizza.

Later that evening, with both of them on that small couch and Dean's legs all over the coffee table, they were watching some old western movie in comfortable silence, when Dean suddenly spoke up.

“You think Sam will like it?” 

Castiel turned his head to look at him, but his face was partially hidden by the dark, the TV being the only light source in the room. Even though Dean wasn't looking at him, he still smiled reassuringly.

“He will. We have a beautiful home.”

“Not the apartment. Well, that too, but I meant...all of this.” he vaguely gestured in the air and finally turned to Cas, his face somewhat anxious. Cas studied him, memorizing every micro expression and figuring out what Dean was really asking.

“You mean, will he like...our life? Our home, your job...all that?” he asked and didn't really wait for the answer as he squeezed Dean's hand.

“I'm sure he will.”

And he was sure. When he lay in bed that night, staring at the shadows on the ceiling and trying to fall asleep, he was still thinking about it. Even though their home was small, and even though he still didn't have a job, and he and Dean were still only learning how to be together, they've built something that Cas loved already. There was no way Sam wouldn't. But when he turned to Dean to tell him, the other was already asleep. 

To say that Cas liked his new job would be an overstatement. He didn't mind it, as it was something to fill his day, to give him order and to occupy his thoughts. But when he had first set out to Hell to save the soul of the Righteous man, he'd have never imagined it would lead to him stocking shelves and wiping floors in a small, run-down general store. Hi, welcome, how may a former angel of the Lord serve you? he thought, chuckling, as he rearranged the toilet paper section. Dean was rubbing off on him. But that was exactly what had started his rebellion and fall, after all. 

“Jimmy? Can you take the expired bread and bring it to the back? The guys from the shelter will pick it up later today.” asked his boss, Mrs. Bloom. He nodded and started selecting out the expired goods. Castiel, or James, as he was known around the town, found out very quickly that his employer was a very kind woman. She had a habit of donating expired but perfectly fine good to the local homeless shelter. He was proud to be working for her, even if the job itself left much to be desired.

He was taking the trash out when he noticed a dirty van standing in front of the store, with a surprisingly well-dressed man lurking in front of it. That certainly didn't look like their usual trucker customer. It was weird, if not suspicious. He was suddenly interrupted from his thoughts by a soft chime of his phone. He shot one last look in the stranger's direction and headed inside, checking the message from Dean.

It wasn't until later that he realized he never actually saw the stranger come in to the store. He tried to ignore the cold feeling seeping in his gut, arguing that he was unreasonably suspicious of a complete stranger who had happened to pass by. No reason to panic, he repeated to himself and glanced at the clock. Only fifteen minutes left to closing time. Then he could go home, where Dean was. And Sam and Eileen too, it was the first day of their visit. Only thirteen minutes.

His hands were sweating by the time he started to count the money. He heard a car outside and the fine hair at the back of his neck stood up in alert. He raised his eyes and noticed the stranger from before coming in.

“Hi, welcome.” he said, his voice steady and friendly. He noticed another man following the stranger, also dressed in a smart suit. His gut was really trying to tell him that the situation was anything but normal.

“How can I help you?”

The first man came closer, leaned against the counter and gave him a very, very creepy smile.

“I don't know, how can you, Castiel?” he asked, his voice smooth and cold. As cold as the shivers that run down Castiel's spine as he heard his name. He took a step back, not letting either of the men from his sight.

“Who are you?” he asked, desperately trying to think of something, anything that he could use as weapon. But who was he facing? Humans? Demons? Or...

“I'm hurt, brother. You don't recognize your own family anymore?” asked the other stranger and flashed him icy blue eyes, the shadows of his wings spreading across the wall. Castiel gulped. He wished he had at least a bit of his grace left, so that he could tell who these angels were.

“Can't be helped, Tamiel. He's a mere human now. Not a speck of an angel in him.” 

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” chuckled Tamiel, whose name Cas barely remembered. He certainly didn't know him, not personally. He considered his option, deciding that gaining more time was instrumental.

“What do you want from me?” 

Tamiel grinned.

“Relationship advice, obviously.” he said and the other angel laughed. Cas wasn't well versed in sarcasm, but he was sure that was one. He could hear his phone ringing in the back office.

“Please, leave me alone. I wish you no harm.” he said as calmly as he could. The other angel, however, frowned.

“Wish us no harm? You locked us from Heaven, burned our wings, slaughtered our brothers, destroyed our Father and then installed the Devil's spawn as our new God! What more harm could you possibly cause us?!” he almost barked, his features twisted.  Cas swallowed nervously.

“Jack is good. He restored your wings, he...”

“He's the son of Lucifer, and if that wasn't enough, he was raised by you! It's only a matter of time until his true nature is revealed. Until he shows what he really is. An abomination.”

“That's not true. Jack is-”

Tamiel laughed, but it was as sinister as demon's laugh. Cas took another step back, thinking that maybe if he could reach his keys...

“You're as funny as I heard, Castiel. You're about to die and yet you only think of your evil little kid...” he said and took a step forward, ready to walk around the counter.

It was then when Castiel's eyes caught the silver blade in Tamiel's hand.

“He's not picking up.” Dean said, nervously pacing in the smal area his living room offered. He had been trying to reach Castiel for the past twenty minutes, but without success. Sam was started to look worried, too.

“Maybe he got held up at work. Doing inventory or something.” he offered, but Dean shook his head.

“He said he was gonna leave as soon as possible.”

“Well, then he...got stuck in the traffic.”

Dean frowned at him, annoyed, and yet worry was etched deep into the stare.

“You know damn well it's never the easy explanation for us. What if he's in trouble?” he voiced the thing that had been on his mind ever since Cas didn't pick up, slowly gnawing it's way deeper and deeper. Sam sighed, but he seemed alerted.

“What kind of trouble?”

“I don't know Sam! Trouble! Our kind of trouble! Some demons or angels or some other freakin monster...!” Dean errupted, throwing his phone on the table, and running his hand through his hair. Take a deep breath and think.

“You said he was protected...”

“Well I don't know shit, okay? It might have failed!”

Sam sighed. There was no reasoning with worried Dean. And to be honest, he was starting to get worried too. Castiel was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago.

“That's it. I'm going.” Dean grunted and reached for the car keys. Sam walked up to him, nodding.

“I'm going too. Eileen, can you stay here in case he comes back?”

Eileen nodded, her eyes alerted, and yet she seemed calm. Just another day on the job. Dean was reminded he used to be like that too. Then again, maybe not. Calmness hadn't ever been one of his virtues.

Although the summer days were long, it was almost getting dark by the time they'd reached the store. Dean practically jumped out of the car and ran towards the building, his heart beating loudly in his ears when he noticed the lights were on. He signalized to Sam, and they both pulled out their weapons and carefully approached the door. Dean slowly opened it, internally cringing at the bell announcing their entry. 

“Cas?” he called out, stepping inside, Sam right behind him. No answer. He walked towards the back office, carefully looking around. It looked deserted.

“Cas??” he tried again, but then Sam stopped.

“Dean...” he said, and when Dean turned to him, he noticed Sam was pointing at the wall behind the counter. He froze when he recognized the unfinished sigil drawn in blood.

“Angels...” Sam confirmed his deduction. Angels. Angels came for Cas. He looked around as if there could be any clue to Cas's whereabouts. Because he was fine. He had to be fine.

Sam was a step ahead of him. 

“I know a spell. We can locate him. We just need-” he was about to list ingredients when Dean's phone rang. He took it out. Cas.

“Cas, are you okay? Where are you?” he blurted as he picked up. However, it wasn't Cas's voice that answered.

“Oh, don't you worry Dean. Castiel is fine. For now.” said the stranger and Dean felt shivers crawling up the back side of his neck.

“Where is he?” he asked, trying to sound calm and menacing, and he sincerely hoped the tremble in his voice is just his imagination. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Sam watching him like a hawk. The voice in the phone chuckled.

“The old farm by the north route. Let's talk business when you get here.” The line disconnected. Dean angrily threw the phone against the wall, the plastic back falling of as it smashed against it. 

“Who was that? Is Cas okay? Where is he?” he asked. Dean shot him a look, not believing how calm his brother was.

“Some angel dick. Let's go.” he said without further explanation and headed to the car, Sam following closely behind.

The sun was setting, painting the sky a beautiful shade of gold and red when the rumbling of the engine and the sound of Impala's wheels on the ground reached Castiel's ears. He slowly looked up, wincing at the throbbing pain in his head. Tamiel and the other angel, whose name he still didn't figure out, grabbed their blades. The barn he was in was dark and Cas tried to focus his eyes on the door and felt the blood slowly dripping from his nose, the metal taste heavy in his mouth, the ropes tying him to the chair uncomfortably tight. 

“The Winchesters..” said Tamiel, readying himself. Cas felt himself itching with worry, and had to remind himself that Sam and Dean could handle this. They definitely could. The door opened.

Cas felt Dean's gaze immediately upon himself.

“Cas..!”

“I'm fine..” he rasped, obviously not completely fine, the bloody nose and difficulty keeping head up being a testament to that. And Dean knew that, he tensed and the only reason why he didn't immediately head over to him was Tamiel and his angel blade. Dean pulled out his own.

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice firm and cold. Tamiel chuckled.

“I'm Tamiel and this is Asbeel.” he said and Cas tried to remember if he knew Asbeel, but he didn't.

“So dicks with wings. What do you want with Cas?” 

The angel shrugged while Asbeel kept an eye on Sam.

“We want nothing to do with him. Other than kill him to pay for what he's caused, of course. But we do want something from you...” Tamiel said, pointing his blade towards the Winchesters. If Dean or Sam were confused by the revelation, Castiel couldn't tell. 

“You see, we were actually going to pay visit to you, Sam Winchester. You're easy to find. But then you lead us straight to your brother, and we figured out...why not pay Castiel over here a visit as well? Two birds with one stone.” Asbeel spoke up. Dean shot a quick glance at Sam, and then turned back to the angels.

“What do you want from us?” 

“We want to know how you killed God.”

Cas managed to lock his eyes with Dean, internally praying that they don't tell them anything that could in any way endanger Jack. Or Dean, or Sam.

Dean nodded, a tiniest movement of his head, and turned his eyes to Tamiel and Asbeel.

“We tell you after you let Cas go.”

“You'll tell us now.” said Tamiel menacingly. Dean didn't budge.

“I ain't telling you jack shit until he's free to go.”

“Why would we give up our only chess piece? Besides torturing you...” Asbeel winked at Dean, who didn't look amused.

“Listen, you dick. You let him go now and I promise I won't clip your shiny new wings shorter than necessary, okay?” he growled and Sam took a careful step to the side, as if he wanted to walk around the angels. But Tamiel pointed his blade at him.

“You are in no position to threaten us.” he said and Cas realized he could move his wrists a little, and maybe, if he moved them long enough, he could get them out of the bounds. He just had to hope the angels wouldn't notice. Luckily, the Winchesters were taking care of that.

“I'll say it for the last time — let him go.” repeated Dean, his voiced laced with anger. Asbeel chuckled. Cas notice that glint in Dean's eyes as both he and Sam attacked the angels, the years of fighting by each other's side paying off. Cas wiggled his wrists more, the rope cutting into his skin with sharp sting, but he took it no heed. He could do it. He shot a quick glance to the fight.

The angels were weak, clearly, resigning to the classic blade fight. And no angel Cas knew could win one on one against the Winchesters. He saw Sam skillfully block Asbeel's attack out of the corner of his eye as he was inching to freeing his hands. He heard Dean kill one of the angels, the body falling to the barn floor with a loud thump. And then he heard that. That awfully familiar sound that recently gained somewhat negative accent. 

Cas' stomach dropped and he raised his eyes just as he saw another angel plunge his blade deep into Dean's back. 

“Dean!” he heard Sam shout, or maybe he shouted it himself. He couldn't tell.

And everything slowed down, as if it were just a dream. Cas pulled his right hand from the bounds, scraping it to blood. He practically tore himself free from the chair and leapt towards the fight.

Cas took the newly arrived angel by surprise, disarming him and burying his own blade into his chest in one swift motion. The bluish light illuminated the barn as the poor vessel came crashing to the ground. Cas dropped the blade and just barely managed to catch Dean, whose weight pushed him to his knees.

He could feel it. The blood seeping into his shirt, warm and lot of it. Dean didn't say anything. Cas pulled him closer.

“I got you, Dean. I got you.” he found himself saying, even if it was barely a whisper. Sam kneeled next to him.

“Dean! What happened?” he asked, his eyes looming over the terrifying amount of blood staining Cas's chest and Dean's back. Cas opened his mouth, words stuck in his throat. He pulled Dean closer.

“Sammy...” he heard Dean rasp suddenly, his hand weakly grabbing pushing down the phone Sam was holding.

Cas knew Dean was fading, and he was fading very fast. His breathing was getting more and more shallow and Cas allowed him to gently slide down to his lap, cradling his face. Dean looked at him.

“Cas...”

Cas caressed his face, leaving bloody smudge on his cheek. And when his tears fell gently down on Dean's face, failing to wash away any of that blood, he knew his heart had stopped beating by then.

Sam couldn't tell how much time have passed with them sitting in the pool of Dean's blood, Cas clutching his lifeless body as if he could will him back to life. It was a silent buzz of his phone that woke him up from his trance. He ignored it, and instead put his hand on Cas's shoulder, noticing just how much it was trembling.

“Cas...we should...” he said quietly, his voice rough from the tears. What should they do? He had no idea.

Cas stayed quiet for a short moment before looking up to the dark ceiling of the barn.

“Bring him back...” he whispered to the silence. Sam saw his hand, which had an awful looking wound, clutch Dean's body stronger.

“I've never...never asked for anything. But I'm asking now. Bring him back.” continued Cas, but no matter how much he obviously tried, his voice was shaking. Sam wanted to join him. To say something, to do something. But somehow, deep down, he knew he couldn't.

“Bring him back...please” begged Cas.  No, Sam thought, he prayed. To the one person who could help them. And as much as he tried not to get his hopes up as he realized what Cas was doing, he found himself looking around for the familiar figure. Cas did the same, desperation etched into his features as he scanned their surroundings. But there were only them and the dead. Cas blinked, fresh tears streaming down his face. He gently combed his bloody fingers through Dean's hair and sobbed. 

Sam felt his own throat clench as he watched that sad pietà, his own immense sadness washing over him, stones settling in his stomach. He looked up. It couldn't end like that. 

“Jack, please...” he asked quietly, “please...”

Cas looked at him, still clinging to the sliver of hope they had in their kid. He turned to Heaven again.

“You can't let him...” he choked on the next word, “not like this....”

“I won't.”

Sam and Cas turned their heads to the voice. Jack gave them a gentle, sad smile. He walked over to them and crouched next to Dean, slowly looking him over. Sam felt immense relief. 

“Jack, please...” begged Cas,” he... I can't..”

Jack nodded and gave them reassuring look, and then slowly placed his hand on Dean's forehead. Sam felt his heart beat once, twice, and then Dean gasped for air and slowly opened his eyes. Cas let out the breath he was holding and pulled him into tight hug, his hand clutching Dean's bloody jacket, his head buried deep into his shoulder.

“Don't ever do that again...” 

Cas sighed when he finally laid in his bed that night. How could so much happen in a single day? How could a single second threaten his very reason to live? It was too close a call. Had Jack not been God, Dean would've....Cas pushed that thought away. No reason to dwell on the past. Dean was there with him, alive and well. And that's all that mattered. All that would ever matter. 

“You're still up?”

Cas looked at Dean, who came to the bedroom, all clean and in pajamas. He nodded.

“Of course.”

Dean joined him and sat down on the bed. Cas couldn't miss how his shoulders slumped, and he sat up.

“Dean, are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, never been better.” Dean gave him that automatic, empty smile. Cas sighed and moved to sit right next to him.

“That's not true.” he said, looking him in the eyes. But Dean looked down on his hands and sighed.

“No, it's not. Truth is, I'm not sure I...we will ever be okay.” he admitted. Cas furrowed his brows, a bit confused as to what Dean was referring to.

“What do you mean?”

Dean looked at him and bit his lip, before sighing again.

“I mean, how many times will shit like this happen? How many times will the past come knockin', how many past mistakes will catch up to us, how many monsters will we face? This will never stop, Cas...”

Cas watched him, aching inside for seeing how much uncertainty Dean was facing After all that they'd been through, after everything they'd sacrificed, he still wasn't at peace. He squeezed his hand.

“If something like that happens, we will deal with it. Like we always did.”

Dean looked at him with sour expression.

“Did we? Last time I checked, they got me earlier. If it weren't for Jack-”

“Stop with the ifs, Dean..”

“No, Cas, you stop being so damn naive. You heard Jack. He can't interfere anymore. Next time this happens, that's it. Lights out, curtain closed.” he snapped bitterly.. Cas didn't budge though still watching him intently. 

“Then we won't let it happen.”

Dean laughed sadly.

“That's the thing.  This is what happens when you deal with monsters. Now matter how good you are, no matter how careful, you will make that one mistake someday and it's gonna cost you. That's how it is.” he said, finally opening up. Cas looked him in the eyes.

“They won't find us anymore, Dean. Jack made sure of that. There won't be any more monsters in our lives.” he said reassuringly, giving him a sof smile. Dean looked at him questioningly.

“I thought you wanted to hunt...”

“I did.” he admitted. So that's what Dean was worried about. Cas didn't know whether he should feel flattered that Dean wouldn't stop him or offended that he thought Cas would do it against his wishes. Especially after what happened.”But that was then. This is now.”

And Dean listened, offering him a content smile.

“So we're full on civilians now.”

“Yes, full on civilians.” Cas agreed and some time later, as he listened to Dean's snoring and watched the lights of passing cars dance across the ceiling, he realized that this life was something to get excited about. Because it was with Dean.