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In Lebanon, the first snowfall comes on the first day of the new year. Big, white fluffy flakes cascade down from the sky, coating the flat expanse in glittering white. Dean wakes early, thoughts of the past year running wild in his head, keeping him from drifting back to sleep. Bundling up in his warmest clothes he wraps Miracle up in a fleece doggie sweater and heads outside. Eileen and Sam will be in bed no doubt into the early afternoon, recovering from last night and Dean’s not interested in sticking around to get in their way.
This year there were good moments -- saving the world from Chuck and survival from Dean’s near brush with death two months ago in Ohio. He has a gnarly scar running crooked down the center of his back and occasional spasms in his legs that makes mornings a little rough. Mostly, he’s grateful he’s alive.
Dean wishes the change of the year meant something, that it meant anything would actually change. He wishes it meant Cas would come back.
Sometimes, he wonders if all the sacrifice was worth it in the end. He knows that Cas would think it was, that’s why he did what he did. For Dean, to save him so that Dean would be able to save everyone. He knows this, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.
As soon as Dean gets the door open, Miracle bounds into the snow. Snowdrifts have piled up against the side of the Bunker, thanks to the wind. He struggles to get through them, his floppy ears the only thing sticking up above the snow. Eventually, Miracle clears the drifts and takes off into the nearby prairie that borders the Bunker’s entrance. He watches Miracle bark and leap, biting at snow until his nose is covered in flakes. Miracle runs back and jumps up on Dean’s thighs, clearly wanting Dean to come join him.
“Alright, buddy, I’m coming.”
Miracle jogs off back through the snow, leading Dean along a neatly made paw print trail. Dean stuffs his hands into his pockets to keep his hands warm and follows.
Around him, snowflakes continue to twirl down from the sky, bunches of flakes clumped together that cover his jacket and pepper into his hair. Across the horizon, stark white meets light gray mixed with bright orange as the sun starts to rise up over the horizon, peeking through the gaps in the clouds. Despite the chill, it is beautiful.
It’s times like these he wishes Cas was here with him, to experience the world at his side and the freedom they fought to have to witness this -- the beauty of what Jack continues to create.
As if an answer to his thoughts, a loud boom and sizzling echoes from half a mile across from Dean. Out of the sky, a blue fireball rains down, plummeting towards earth. A meteor probably, although it looks unlike any meteor Dean has ever seen before. It hits the ground and underneath Dean’s feet the earth trembles. Blue fire intensifies for a moment after impact and then immediately dissipates into clear smoke once it hits the snow.
“What the hell?”
Dean jogs towards the smoke, Miracle at his side. Momentarily, he contemplates calling Sam and then changes his mind. It’s not their sorta thing, probably. If it is, he’ll figure it out.
As he gets closer, he can see the shape of a human form through the haze struggling to stand. Dark hair stands out to Dean as does the tan colored coat covering the man’s shoulders.
A twinge of hope aches in his chest, then fizzles. It’s not possible. There’s no way.
The man gets to his feet, standing at full height an inch or two shorter than Dean. He’s oblivious to anything around him, staring down at something in his hand. Even from a couple dozen feet away Dean can see the cobalt glow emanating from his palm.
Miracle barks, and the man turns his head towards the sound, dropping the orb into his pocket. Dean skids to a stop in the snow, heart pounding in his chest.
“Cas?” Dean whispers, unable to fully vocalize the possibility.
“Dean?!”
The voice that answers him he knows intimately, like the familiar beat of his own heart, the lines on his hands, and the feel of the Impala rumbling underneath him. Dean knows him, would know him anywhere, because knowing him means finally coming home.
Tentatively, Dean walks towards Cas. He blinks a few times, wondering if this is a dream and he’ll wake up back in his room at the Bunker. Cas stays, staring at Dean like he’s unable to believe it himself. Dean stops a foot or so from Cas and they look at each other. Tears well in Dean’s eyes and freely trickle down his cheeks.
“Are you real?” Dean asks, after a moment.
“Yes,” Cas answers, the hint of a smile working its way onto his face. “I believe so.”
Dean laughs through his tears and reaches out to pull Cas into a tight hug. Cas hugs him back, arms wrapping around Dean’s shoulders, chin tucking perfectly into the notch between Dean’s shoulder and neck.
“Dean,” he says, soft almost reverent, and squeezes the back of Dean’s jacket.
Dean absolutely loses it. Silent sobs overtake him and he clings to Cas’ coat. He rubs the fabric between his fingers, relishing in the familiarity of Cas -- the otherworldly scent of him and the safety of being wrapped up in his arms. Cas is real, he’s alive, and he came home.
"How?” Dean asks, stepping back to just look.
He can’t stop touching Cas, running his hand up and down Cas’ arms and adjusting the fold of the collar of his coat. Dean’s afraid that if he takes his eyes off Cas for one second, he’ll disappear.
“I’m not sure, I was in the Empty and then I woke up here, covered in snow.”
Dean chuckles. “Well, shit maybe it was Jack.”
Cas stares at him, shock evident. “Jack?”
“Yeah, Cas,” Dean answers with a grin, enjoying the feel of Cas’ name on his lips again. “Kiddo’s God now. Think he’s been doing a pretty good job so far.”
“So, that means you and Sam, you did it?”
“Yeah, we did it,” Dean pauses, lets the realization of that sink in and watches as Cas’ mouth tips up into a smile. “We saved everyone and we’re free now. We wouldn’t have been able to do it, if not for you.”
“Well,” Cas says, reaching out and covering Dean’s shoulder with his palm. “Even if you hadn’t been able to save everyone, saving you was enough.”
Dean sucks in a shaky breath and nods. Tears prick at his eyes, reminders of the long nights he spent after Cas was taken thinking if only he’d spoken back in the dungeon, been able to voice how he felt. He couldn’t then, but he can now.
Dean takes a step forward and reaches for Cas’ hand, he catches Cas’ fingers in his and holds tight, clinging to the warmth of him. “Cas, I gotta tell you something.”
Momentarily, Cas falters. “If it’s about what I said before The Empty took me, you don’t need to say anything. My love for you isn’t conditional.”
“I know,” Dean says, earnest. He squeezes Cas’ hand and feels his heart flip in his chest when Cas squeezes back. “ I know . But you deserve to know how much I love you.”
At first, Cas doesn’t respond. His eyes widen and he squeezes Dean’s hand even tighter.
“You do?” Cas asks, after a moment. He sounds breathless, dazed. A shattered look comes over his face, similar to the one ingrained into Dean’s memory from the last time they saw each other.
“Yeah,” Dean says. He takes a step closer to Cas until the toes of their shoes touch. With gentle fingertips, he touches Cas’ cheek, caressing the sharp edge of his jaw. “I do. I love you.”
“Dean.” Cas says his name, breathless and precious and the sound lifts with the wind, swirls in the air around them and soars off towards the horizon.
Cas reaches up, fingers ghosting over the swell of Dean’s bottom lip. His hand trembles when Dean’s lips part for him, tasting the warmth of Cas’ skin.
Inside Dean’s chest his heart thumps erratically against his ribcage and words he’s needed to say for years tumble from his mouth. “If you want, I’d like it if you stayed. With me.”
“Always,” Cas answers, as if it’s obvious, as if he’d have any other answer than yes, forever and always. His hand palms the back of Dean’s neck, pulling him close and pressing their foreheads together. For a moment, they share breath, eyes locked.
Dean breaks first, tilting his chin down the slightest bit and captures Cas’ lips in a slow, gentle kiss. It should be terrifying, something this cataclysmic shouldn’t be so easy. Then Cas sighs against his lips and deepens the kiss. Love he’d had locked away unfurls inside him from a notch beside his heart, filling him with euphoria.
Cas shakes as their kisses continue, tongue slipping in and hands starting to wander, entirely human, not an unshakable being whose power brought him back to life so many years ago. As if sensing Dean’s thoughts, Cas pulls back, looking dazed, a pleased smile playing on his lips.
“I want you to have something, it’s always belonged to you.”
He dips one hand into the pocket of his trenchcoat and retrieves a chain, sparkling silver, luminescent, with a vial attached to the bottom. It shines, cerulean and otherworldly, and Dean knows immediately what it is.
“I should bury it, hide it from those who would try to steal it and use it against me...” Cas pauses, and slips it over Dean’s neck. “But I’d like you to have it. It represents who I was when we met, and the person you’ve helped me become.”
Wordlessly, Dean looks down at where Cas’ grace rests against his chest, a few inches from where his heart resides. He reaches up and cups the vial in his palm. It reacts to his touch, vibrating gently and glowing brighter. Releasing a shaky breath, Dean looks up and meets Cas’ eyes. He feels a tear trickle down his cheek, a swell of emotion coming over him.
“Thank you,” Dean answers. He covers the vial with his hand and presses a flat palm against his chest. “I’ll keep it safe.”
“Good,” Cas replies. He’s smiling, eyes crinkling at the corners and leans in to nuzzle the side of Dean’s cheek.
God, Dean missed him, so damn much.
He reaches out and covers Dean’s hand where it rests on his chest and interlocks their fingers, tugging Dean’s hand away until they’re holding hands properly.
“For the first time in years, I’m hungry. And it’s a more persistent feeling than I remember,” Cas says. “Will you make me something?”
Dean grins, squeezing Cas’ hand. “Yeah, anything you want, Cas.”
Hand in hand they turn and head back towards the Bunker. Two pairs of footprints returning instead of one with Miracle trudging along behind them. Sun shines bright overhead, causing the snow to glisten, the day coming to life. For Dean it doesn’t feel like a new beginning, but rather the continuation of a sentence. A part of a story that was designed to end in darkness, but found light again, and it’s time to break free.