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There was silence after Castiel finished translating the spell.
“Okay,” said Dean, after a long moment. “Okay. We can do this.”
Sam frowned. “Dean…”
“Look, all that fancy talk just means stuff we’ve already got right here in the Bunker,” his brother said. “A sanctified vessel just means a bowl we say a prayer over, right?”
“That is true,” Cas agreed. “Though we might wash it in holy water, to be extra sure.”
“Okay,” said Dean. “And use a silver knife to spill the blood of Adam’s son. We have a dozen silver knives, and a ‘son of Adam’ is just a plain old human. Like in Narnia.”
“You’ve read The Chronicles of Narnia?” said Sam, surprised.
“I’ve seen the movie,” Dean corrected, although he had, in fact, read the entire series.
“There are two films,” offered Jack. “I watched them on Netflix.”
“We can all watch them later,” said Dean. “What else does it say? Feather of a seraph – I’m sure Cas can spot us one – dirt from the eternal rest of a widow – might have to go get that, but it should be easy to find a widow’s grave – and the rest of these are just herbs – sage, rosemary, clove – I’ve got them in the kitchen.”
“We’re running low on rosemary, actually,” put in Cas. “But we should have more than enough for a spell this size.”
“Uh, guys?” said Sam. He held up the legal pad where he’d been taking notes during Cas’s translation. “We’re missing kind of a big one. The marriage of heaven and earth.”
Dean frowned. “No, we have that. Jack.”
“But I don’t have anything,” said Jack.
“No, kid, you are it. A Nephilim, part heaven, part earth. So, we have Jack do the spell. Easy.”
There was a pause, then Cas said, “I don’t think that’s quite accurate, Dean.”
“What?” he said. “You think I can’t figure out a few metaphors?”
Cas rested a hand on his shoulder. “Your intelligence is not in question,” he said. “After all, you did not require notes to remember and comprehend the ingredients to the spell.”
“Hey,” protested Sam, mostly out of habit. “That doesn’t mean he’s not wrong.”
“No,” the angel agreed, reluctantly. “The wording of the spell makes it clear that the marriage is an event, rather than a person or an object.”
“An event,” Dean repeated. “Like a wedding.”
“It is much clearer in Enochian,” complained Cas. “ ‘Marriage’ is the closest translation in modern English, but it does not hold the same connotations.”
“What do you mean?” asked Sam.
The angel paused. “In earlier human history, a marriage was a legal contract. Two families would unite their fortunes or opportunities by the legal binding and sexual union of a man and woman, who would produce an heir to continue their heritage in a single line. The feelings of either participant were not taken into account. But the Enochian text here suggests a much more… personal coupling than uniting the ‘houses’ of Earth and Heaven.”
“Then it is a Nephilim,” said Dean. “Because doesn’t that happen every time a human and an angel get it on?”
“If the human is female and the angel is in a male vessel, conception is always the result, yes,” said Cas. “But that was only a means to gain power for the angel. Even if they had cared for their sexual partner, giving birth to a Nephilim is always fatal to the human.”
“Like my mother,” said Jack, softly.
“Um, yeah,” said Sam. There was a slightly awkward pause, then he said, “But, Cas, if it’s not a wedding and it’s not sex, what do we need?”
“This phrase in particular was difficult to translate,” said Cas. “I chose ‘marriage’ originally because the spell requires an event, a ceremony, to bind one of heaven and one of earth. ‘Union’ would also have worked, in the more modern interpretation of marriage, of two beings pledging themselves wholly to one another. It wouldn’t preclude sexual activity, of course, but it would require a deeper connection between the individuals, something much more profound.”
“Profound,” repeated Sam, glancing across at his brother.
Dean’s ears went pink and he didn’t quite look at Sam as he said, “So, we just need to find an angel willing to slum it on Earth for a few decades. And a human who’s not hung up about that.”
“Oh, my god,” muttered Sam. “I just – I can’t – It’s you!”
“I thought we had decided it wasn’t me?” said Jack, hesitantly.
“Not you, Jack,” Sam assured him. He took a step closer, leaving a gap between them and the other two, who were standing less than a foot apart as usual, despite the size of the war room. “I mean Dean and Cas and their complete cluelessness!”
“What?” said Dean, sharply.
“Look,” said Sam, struggling to stay calm. “Under any other circumstances, I would leave you both alone, to be idiots for the rest of your lives and make yourselves miserable. But the literal fate of the world depends on you getting married and there is absolutely nothing stopping you but yourselves.”
There was a beat of silence, then Dean said, “He’s an angel, Sammy, I can’t—” just as Cas began, “I would never ask something of Dean that he was unwilling—”
They both stopped abruptly, staring at each other.
“You…” said Dean, slowly.
“I am not human,” Cas said, solemnly, “I understand that is a problem for you, Dean – you have suffered greatly because of my brothers and sisters.”
“I don’t give a damn about them,” snapped Dean. “But you’re an angel, Cas. A multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent, as big as the Chrysler Building, and I’m… I’m… You don’t want me.”
Cas’s expression softened. “How could I not? You are the Righteous Man – not because you have never done wrong, Dean, but because you always act for the right reasons. Your soul… even Enochian doesn’t have the words to describe its radiance.”
“My soul?” said Dean, and Cas smiled patiently.
“Yes, Dean.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Many reasons,” said Cas. “Emotions, the way humans experience them, were new to me. I knew I could not give you the family you have always wanted, not the way a human woman could, and I did not want to deny you the opportunity.”
“Cas…”
“There was also the fact that I am in a male vessel,” Cas continued. “I know that aspect of your sexuality has caused you great difficulty, Dean, and I did not want to add to that.”
“Cas,” repeated Dean, and his voice was shaking. “You can’t – I don’t – you can’t – Cas, you gotta know by now that I’d do anything for you.”
The angel shook his head. “For this, you must be more than willing. Commitment and union only begin to describe it, Dean. Our current bond, though profound, is relatively small, something you cannot even perceive. This would be vastly different – if our bond is a thread connecting us, this new bond would be… the Golden Gate Bridge. It would be unbreakable.”
“And you’d want that?” asked Dean, hesitantly. “With me?”
Castiel straightened his shoulders, looking stubborn. “Yes,” he said. “It is selfish of me, but yes. Our bond has always been a comfort to me, being able to sense your presence, more easily hearing your prayers. I am content with what we have, but given the chance for more, I would take it. But only if that is what you truly want.”
“What I want?” said Dean, faintly. “Cas… does this mean you won’t have to keep leaving?”
“It does not mean that we will never be separated,” Cas replied, “but a bond such as this would come before any duties heaven might have for me. And I will always, always return to you.”
“Cas, I… I…”
Dean struggled with the words for a moment, then gave up entirely, curling one hand into the lapel of Cas’s trench coat and using the other to cup the angel’s face and pull him in for a long, deep kiss.
Sam let out a huff of laughter and turned away, giving them a moment of privacy – until that moment turned into several very long moments and he cleared his throat loudly.
The other two startled out of their kiss, but not much further than that. “What, Sammy?” snapped Dean.
“As much as I would love to just toss you two into a – preferably soundproofed – room and let you work this out, we have an apocalypse to stop.”
“Ah,” said Cas, taking a step back and straightening his coat. “Yes, we should begin.”
“Then you’re getting married?” asked Jack, smiling.
“No,” said Dean – then, just as Cas’s expression fell, he added, “I haven’t been asked yet.”
The angel tilted his head. “The spell does not require that you give consent aloud.”
“Maybe,” the hunter agreed. “But we’ve already skipped a bunch of steps already, and… and I want to hear you say it.”
“Of course,” said Cas, with a soft smile. “Dean Winchester, will you marry me?”
Dean grinned. “Hell, yes!”
“Hell will have no part of our marriage,” said Cas.
“So, it’ll be heavenly?” he said.
“Absolutely not,” said Cas.
His new fiancé laughed, “Never change,” and kissed him again.
“Guys,” said Sam. “Apocalypse, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Dean, but he was still smiling.
His brother couldn’t help smiling back. “Tell you what,” he said. “We still need dirt from the widow’s grave. Jack and I will go get that, and some more rosemary, just in case. We’ll be gone for at least an hour. Okay?”
“Thanks, Sammy.”
“And we’ll get cake,” added Jack. “That’s what humans have at weddings.”
Dean smiled. “Good idea.”
THE END