Chapter Text
After dying and being resurrected so many times in one life, not to mention defeating God, what they went back to was a vengeful spirit of a jilted lover. A short but exhausting one-day trip. Just a piece of cake.
It was Sam’s idea that they take up an easy fix for their first case together after a long time. Just a few scratches of blood and Dean seemed pretty satisfied he could save the mother and her baby by just digging up a grave. It took little to convince him, as the other option that Sam had for them was a witch. Dean would take a ghost over that shit, even on his best day.
He had been waiting for this forever, but things, as usual, were not quite as expected. Absence of Sam and Jack was supposed to make it easier for him to address the situation, but all he could feel was his heart throbbing like crazy.
It had been three days since Jack had brought Castiel back from the Empty. The first ray of sunlight through the tiniest crack after days engulfed in darkness. However, Cas had been tactfully avoiding being alone with him. Sometimes it was just coffee, and other times it was to go on a drive with Jack or visit Claire.
Everytime Dean pulled himself together to approach him and the moment his eyes landed on those blues, he used to just stand there feeling a rock in his throat and some spell fixing him to the ground as all he could see was the nightmares of all the past playing out before him. All ending in one way, with him losing Cas again.
One morning when Cas was with Jack, it was Sam who dropped the other shoe. “You know… that it’s all over, and the empty isn’t coming back, right? And neither is Chuck nor Billie?”
He wasn’t drunk enough for this. “Yeah. I mean... Jack fixed it right, didn’t he?”
For a few minutes, the only noise in the kitchen was of Sam stirring the fresh cup of coffee.
Giving him the I know it all look, the younger brother sighed and clapped a hand on his shoulder before getting up to leave. “We are all finally free, Dean. You deserve to take that burden off as well and live .”
Sam left the room and Dean remained at the table, unmoving. I got him killed once. What if- what if he dies because of me again? was all that echoed around him .
The hunt was over, and with all the endless thoughts buzzing in his mind, the silence was deafening. He shook his leg and tapped the wheel expressing the urge to divert himself as he deeply missed the race against time of their previous day, when they could hardly stop to think about anything other than the Casper gone rogue out there.
Zeppelin’s Ramble On and the low rumblings of the Baby were the only things preventing a pin drop silence since they had bid farewell to the motel and the family they saved.
Cas, on the other hand, was calm, his expression serene. He seemed to be more peaceful than ever, and that constantly knocked at Dean even more.
It almost filled Dean up to the brim, and the water was close to overflowing.
As if sensing the growing heat in the atmosphere, the other man sighed and leaned forward to pause the tape and change it. Without fearing the possibility of getting caught, for his incessant need of staring at the angel, he simply watched the movements of the man beside him.
“ And if I say to you tomorrow
Take my hand, child come with me
It’s to a castle I will take you”
Dean froze. Time halted. Of course, the first song.
Like the first flower blossoming in a new garden, it was a spontaneous connection in the midst of the uncertainty. The last missing piece of the same puzzle they were solving separately in their minds.
A few moments of connecting the dots and Dean finally breathed . He stole another glance at the angel and bit his lip as he reclined back on his seat, unaware of a slight blush creeping up his face. Years ago he had woven those songs in the tape like the flowers in a wreath. For weeks he had treasured it with all he had, along with the knife, coated with dry blood and the stained jacket he held on to, like clinging on to his own life.
“It’s a gift, you keep those.”
His own voice rang in his ears, and his lips were already curving up into a tender smile. He turned his gaze to his side again, just to confirm it’s still real and he wouldn’t wake up suddenly from one of his nightmares. He does this frequently these days.
Cas was there, right by his side, with his eyes fixed on the passing scenery outside. He rested one hand on the window and tapped his thigh with the other, his long slender fingers moving in rhythm with the music as they drove on. Dean didn’t need to touch him to see if he was real, not anymore. He could feel his aura echo all around him.
Lit up by the slanted rays of the sunlight, his eyes shone brighter than sapphire and his face had the tranquility of finally having everything he wished for. Beautiful black hair disheveled in all directions. There was a smile of contentment playing on his lips as his eyelids fluttered in the breeze.
This is no longer a vessel. This is Cas .
“Dean..”
His breath hitched as the low, rumbling voice sent a shiver up his spine.
Thankfully, one word was enough for him to swim back to the shore. Blinking swiftly, he immediately turned his eyes back to the road gripping the wheel as if it was precarious without him. Once again caught staring, he felt like being hunted.
When Cas didn’t speak any further, he snorted. For a moment, he was twelve again.
Dean could almost hear the angel smirk beside him. Exhaling, he tipped his head back against the seat and somehow ended up smiling again. Son of a bitch.
His face was no less than a story when their eyes clashed for the first time after weeks of drinking and passing out. It was a storm. The lush green of the forest being engulfed by the ambrosial ocean, followed by a lingering bone-crushing hug.
Something had changed between them. Lingering hugs, noisy silence, warm smiles, unnecessary touching, and long holding gazes had become a very regular thing. Not that it was the first time things were happening between them, but it was surely the first time they were being so shameless about it. Chuck, the Empty, the deal, all of it. For once, he wanted to leave it all behind.
It was noon, and the heat was borderline oppressive, but he would not complain. He had never known this kind of peace before. It felt surreal, as much as earned. The very first ray of sunlight was dawning in the night sky, and a new day was not very far.
“ Only goes to show
That you will be mine
By takin’ our time.”
As the Zeppelin went on, for the first time in his life, not only was Dean free, he felt free.
***********
A few months ago :
Chuck is gone and Dean seemed to have what he wanted all his life, freedom. He was writing his own story.
Except, there was nobody left to write the new story with. He was simply left with nothing, just nothing .
No trench coat, no body; just a knife, coated in scarlet gold .
“I love you.” An end before the beginning.
He loved him.
But it wasn’t the Empty who killed Cas, it had been Dean .
He tried to forget knowing but he can’t. So he drank, kept drinking until he was on the verge of passing out, when Sam snatched the bottle and dragged him back to his bedroom.
Other times, he doesn’t even realize, the beer bottle shatters into pieces as he passes out on the floor. The broken glass and a shattered heart. Neither worthy nor mendable.
The want, the need, the guilt . The pain. It's nothing like before.
Every Thursday, he drove to the only place where Cas still remained and stood there alone, leaning against the car with the vast meadow spread out before him as he held a bouquet of sunflowers in hand and hoped that his angel in the dirty trench coat would just walk out of those flowers like he did years ago.
The fatal hope for a miracle on a drowning ship, Dean felt like the sailor on it.
He waited, and kept waiting for Cas before he finally walked in and knelt to put the bouquet down and pick up the dried one. An offering from a devotee, a prayer to his divine grace. The flowers, the leaves, the butterflies and the bees, all of it reminded him of Cas.
Dean closed his eyes as his fingers traced the linings of the petals, soft and smooth against his skin and for a moment it's like he was right beside him and kneeling with him.
Light-headed and vision going hazy, the last brick holding him up was knocked off. His body shuddered and tears rolled down his freckled cheeks as he mumbled the same thing over and over again, a traveler in the scorching desert, wanting nothing but water. “I love you...” he cried, his hands digging in the soil, “I am sorry,” he choked out. “Please...” A prayer for forgiveness, he doesn’t stop.
Everything blurring out, for Dean the world had stopped, at those three words.
I love you. A prayer nobody can hear.
I love you . A knife coated with sugar.
I love you . A curse.