Work Text:
and the world's alive
with the sound of kids on the street outside
//
Dean never really thought about how loud the world was until he heard every single sound pulse around him when Jack restored the entire universe in one blink.
Suddenly, in every direction, Dean was aware of the world. Bugs and birds and, hell, flowers growing, it was like Dean heard it all. Kids laughing, a baby screaming, the soft patter of casual conversations, it all bloomed up around them and Dean was so monumentally fucking grateful.
Except –
Except.
Jack’s gonna come home and when he comes home, Dean’ll do a better job making sure he knows it's really home. He tells Jack that, something like that, he knows he does, that Jack must come home. And then – then when they get there, together, they’ll all figure out how to get Cas back. And since he said that first part, Dean turns to open his mouth to tell Jack “Please we have to – please it’s Cas –” and before he can say another single thing Jack is talking about the rain and the wind and humanity and how he cannot do what Chuck did and Dean knows he’s right, he does.
Except –
Except.
And then Jack is gone, he’s gone and the sound of the world keeps going around Dean and suddenly even with the sound of the whole world it’s all very, very quiet and he doesn’t have anything else to say at all.
//
He’s bleeding out, stuck on a piece of rebar of all fucking things on the day he never thought would be the day. He can feel himself going and the scariest thing is – he just doesn’t care. It hurts to breathe, but the truth is – it’s been hurting, hasn’t it? And now it’s just come to a very sharp point right in his back, sending the pain radiating through him in a very literal way. It all hurts and it hasn’t stopped hurting and he’s just done.
“I need you to tell me it’s okay,” he begs Sam, he knows he’s begging, he doesn’t care. If Sammy can just say it, if he can just say it, Dean will go, he can finally just let go. And his baby brother looks up at him, tears streaking down his face and says exactly what Dean needs to hear.
“Fuck you,” Sam seethes. He drops Dean’s hand and reaches into his back pocket. Sam pulls out a knife and slices his hand open. “You are not putting this on me, you are not — it is not okay, Dean.” His voice is ragged. Dean’s going fuzzy around the edges but he can see Sam drop to his feet and pull up some dirt and a bit of grass from the barn floor.
“No deals,” Dean wheezes, “please, Sammy no deals, no more!”
Sam stands up and smears the dirt and grass right into his cut, not even blinking.
Sam leans forward and presses his hand – blood, soil, grass – right to Dean’s chest, over where the rebar is. Dean winces in pain and Sam determinedly holds Dean’s gaze and says an incantation, a stream of Latin and a little bit of Enochian. Dean takes another breath, somehow, and watches a faint orange glow rise up from his chest.
Sam blinks twice and pulls back his hand. “That’s a spell of grounding. It’ll keep things exactly like they are.”
“No, Sammy, please – no deals, no magic, no –” Dean pushes the words out.
Sam rolls his eyes and wipes the blood right on his jeans. He uses his other hand to fish his cell phone out of his jacket pocket. “It’s not going to be a deal, Dean. Jesus Christ. We’re going to the fucking hospital.”
And he dials 911.
//
in this world, we're just beginnin'
to understand the miracle of living
//
He wakes in the hospital four days later, Jody by his bedside.
“Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?” She gives him the smallest smile and scootches forward so she can clasp his hand.
He lets himself squeeze her hand back. He lets himself be glad to be alive.
Jody calls to tell Sam he’s awake and they switch shifts. Through the drugs, Dean can feel a low thrum of pain in his back.
Sam gives Jody a tight hug and they exchange some low conversation before she leans down and kisses Dean’s forehead. “You rest up, we’ll see you tomorrow. Claire’s coming and if you don’t think Sam has some words for you, well.”
Sam looks pinched and wan. He sits next to Dean and closes his eyes and for a few endless minutes they just sit there, in silence, side by side.
Sam doesn’t open his eyes when he speaks. “The only magic I used was the grounding spell. It wasn't to keep you here, Dean. I would never do that to you. It just…put you on pause until the ambulance got there. Your lung collapsed. You almost bled out and you died on the operating table for a whole minute. It was touch and go. But – but you survived on your own.”
“No deals,” Dean half-whispers and it’s the stupidest fucking thing to say, he knows it is.
Sam opens his eyes and glares at him. “Who, exactly, do you think would even fucking let me make a deal, Dean? The Queen of Hell who taught me the spell that saved your life? You think she’s going to let either one of us rot in hell or trade something for a two-bit demon deal when she – when she loves us? Or maybe heaven? Our kid who won’t answer my fucking prayers even when it’s just me asking him to come to visit? You think heaven's going to get involved in this mess all over?”
So much of that rips through Dean, just like the rebar. Sam sounds desperate, angry. And that’s what Dean was going to leave him to, a whole life of that feeling welling up, a whole life of that regret and fear and chastisement, the panic and anger and loss, all that is what Dean wanted him to live with and carry and, worse still, say was okay.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I’m so sorry. It was just –”
Sam cuts him off, holding up his hand and shaking his head. His voice is heated. “I know, Dean. But you cannot ever ask that of me again, do you understand? I’ve already watched you die so many fucking times, watched you just walk right into your own death, watched you ripped apart by hellhounds, die in my fucking arms." Sam gives a shaky exhale. "What do you think my life would be like if you’d died like that, man? You think I’d just get a wife and have a kid and shrug my shoulders? I'm gonna live some normal life and pretend it was nothing that you were gone? After everything? Who could do that? Who would I be? It would fuck me up, Dean. You can’t put all that on me, it’s just not fair.”
And the thing is, Dean hadn’t really thought that. He’d wanted to think that. He wanted to think that because he was so fucking tired. Nothing had healed up right in him since Cas left him on that floor, since he had just watched Cas go, and that was the god-damn-honest truth. It just hadn’t healed up and when he was stuck up there, life slowly ebbing out of him, it had felt like that was the answer. It hadn’t healed up right because it wasn’t supposed to heal because he was supposed to bleed out.
Dean swallows a huge lump in his throat. He forces the words out. “It’s just been really hard, Sammy.”
Sam sits up and suddenly his face is so unbearably tender. He pulls out a small clear bag from his inside jacket pocket. Dean recognizes what’s in the bag right away and feels himself involuntarily flushing.
“One of the EMTs gave this to me the first night,” he says, softly. “It rolled out of your pocket when they had to cut your fucking shirt off.”
Dean looks at the bag in Sam’s hand, the silver ring inside shining brighter than the fluorescent lights. He doesn’t really feel shame or embarrassment about it, he’s glad Sam saved it.
“I wasn’t – I got it a few weeks back. I needed – I wanted something. I was workin’ up to, uh, I was gonna start wearing it.”
Sam looks rueful. “They asked if we could expect your wife,” he says.
Dean gives a small, almost soundless chuckle. “And what did you have to say to that?”
“I told them your husband was dead,” Sam answers, simple as anything, as if there was no question, as if it was the most normal thing in this world. All that time. Dean spent all that fucking time so afraid of it, so tied up about it, sick to his stomach with shame and worry, John’s voice always in the back of his head, sharp and mean, and – and Sam just said it.
Dean looks down, he can’t trust himself to say anything.
It’s quiet for a little bit, they just sit there together, and then Dean feels Sam’s hand, feather-light on his upper arm. “I’m sorry, Dean. For everything, for all of it. I am just sorry.”
Dean uses all his strength and carefully puts his other hand on top of Sam’s. Everything hurts, every part of him feels like he’s still pinned up there, bleeding out, fading away. He wants to say something to ground him, to keep him. And then he knows. He knows what he wants the most right now, at the moment Sam is seeing him more than he’s ever seen him before. Just as he had with Chuck there in the dust, cowering at his feet, when he told him he was no killer, not anymore, Dean wants to say something to make it all real.
“I love him,” Dean tells Sam, the simplest, realest thing he has. There is no past tense about it because there’s gonna be no past tense about this. While he’s still walking this earth, his love for Cas is always gonna be in the present tense, alive and living and happening right now, that’s a promise he makes right then.
Sam puts his hand on top of Dean’s, the hand with the ring in the bag, and Dean feels it against his skin. “Then you better put your ring on,” Sam says; holding him, seeing him, loving him. Just like he always does.
//
He gets discharged a week later. Jody and Donna have spent hours getting things straightened out in a way that makes sense and is believable for the cops and the hospital and Dean has plenty of instructions for physical therapy and making sure he keeps up with low-impact work.
Claire and Jody hug them goodbye, both of them assuring they’ll stay in touch.
At the goodbye, Claire can’t meet his eyes. “You’re an old man now.” She leans in and taps Dean’s ring lightly one time. “You gotta take care of yourself, step-pappy.” At the last word, her voice almost breaks and it is somehow teasing and sincere all at once.
It’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever been called and yet it feels like a benediction. He’s grateful. He promises her he’s going to try. And he actually means it. And if he has to wipe his face to keep the tears at bay no one mentions it.
Then he and Sam head home.
//
Jack is there, at the library table, serene as anything, as if this is the most normal thing in the world.
He’s running his hand lovingly over his name but when Sam steps into the door frame, gun drawn, he hops up from the table and gives his standard wave. “Hello,” he says, simply and Dean is stumbling down the stairs, Sam right behind him, shoving his gun back in his waistband.
They wrap him up in a joint hug, Dean being as careful as possible with his arm. Sam’s laughing, a sound Dean hasn’t heard in too long and Jack won’t stop smiling.
Eventually Jack steps back. “Dean, I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you –”
Sam and Dean’s voices run together as they interrupt him.
“Not your fault, kid,” Dean says in a hurry.
“You were doing the right thing, Jack,” Sam backs him up.
“I would’ve come, I promise,” he’s so sincere it makes Dean ache.
“You don’t have to save us, Jack. We respect your decision,” Sam said and Dean realizes he agrees, it was frustrating and awkward at the time but Sam is right. Jack isn’t a tool for them to use, he isn’t their on-call fixer and their whole lives had been worse when someone thought they could make decisions like that for and about them.
“It’s not that,” Jack said and then he bites his bottom lip. His next words are hesitant. “I couldn’t have come. I didn’t even know you were praying. Because I was – I was in the Empty.”
It comes out in a fit, in a start. They sit around the library table and Jack, he just keeps touching his name on the table, like nothing has ever meant more, as he tells them everything. Sam, that big nerd, has pulled out a notepad and is frantically scribbling down every word. And Dean is trying as hard as he can to manage his breathing, to listen. He knows he’s absently rubbing his thumb along the ring on his ring finger; but it’s not out of nerves, it’s to center himself, it’s to make a promise he can’t get out with words just now.
“I can get in, it’s easier to get in than I thought,” Jack details as he’s catching them up. “But that’s when it gets hard. I’ve tried so many different things. And just like you taught me, Sam, I’ve documented everything. But it just kept going nowhere. Which is when Bobby came up with the idea to –”
Sam’s pen comes to a sudden stop and Dean jerks his head up. “Did you just say Bobby?” Sam’s voice is faint.
Jack gets a slightly guilty look on his face. “You both always said, even Cas told me more than once, that Bobby, your Bobby, could solve anything. So when I got stuck, um, I went and found him.”
“You busted Bobby out of heaven?” Dean asks, incredulously.
“How did you possibly introduce yourself?” Sam follows up.
“Oh, there’s no busting out. Well, kind of. I’m working on heaven. I’m gonna make it better. Better than it was, better than a memory. But that’s taking some time too,” Jack says casually. “But the other part. Well, I just asked him for help. I … I did tell him that I’m your – that you were my –” his voice isn’t casual anymore, he shifts his gaze away and Dean sees a little bit of nervous shame edging along Jack’s face.
Dean cuts into Jack’s fumbling, makes his voice solid and true. “Okay we’ll get back to the whole restructuring heaven part but I hope you told Bobby you were our kid, because that’s what you are and he should know it.”
“I did!” Jack exclaims, and Dean watches relief wash over Jack in a wave. “I said exactly that. And he said that sounded just like the kind of trouble you two would cause and, uh, then he said I could come in and have some snacks and, um, we started working.”
Dean chuckles and he feels something warm and sweet blossom in his chest. “That’s Bobby, alright. So what was his idea?”
“Well, he has his old house up in heaven so while I was finding ways to get into the Empty and search, he was working –”
“In his library,” Sam said, absolutely delighted at the prospect. “Of course. Of course Bobby would be back at work researching and fixing our messes even in heaven.”
“Now there’s a throwback,” Dean said, capturing Sam’s eyes and sharing a knowing look.
“Yes, sometimes he’d let me just rest there and I’d tell him about – about what I missed about Earth and about what we’d all done together and he’d just let me talk and talk and he’d listen.”
“He’s good at that,” Dean chokes out, feeling homesick in a way he hadn’t in years.
“Yeah,” Sam murmurs and Dean knows he’s feeling the same thing.
“And I guess all the stories were part of how Bobby put it all together,” Jack continues. “The problem we had to solve wasn’t about the Empty. After a little while, getting there was easy. It was about connection and the connection was about location.”
Sam glances back over his notes. “Wait, yeah. I see what he means. You can get into the Empty but … you need something to track Cas or – or something centering.”
Jack nods eagerly. “And what we figured out was it has to be something big, something as big as me or as big as the Empty.”
Sam taps his pen on the notepad as if everything was all clicking together in his head. “Something profound,” he finishes, grinning at Dean. It feels like the sun coming out.
//
when I'm lost at sea
I hear your voice, and it carries me
//
Sam is muttering softly to himself as he hustles out of the room; Dean can practically see his brain whirring away. “I’m gonna call Rowena,” he tells them without really glancing up from his notes. “With some of the stuff Bobby told Jack … I have to check on the supplies but I think – I think I’ve got an idea.” And then he’s gone.
So it’s just Jack and Dean, there in the library. Dean wants to tell him there’s nothing he won’t do, that he’s going to get this done. But before that, he thinks of Jack’s careful fingers over his name on the table.
“Jack, I just want you to know – you’re family. I’m really sorry for any time I’ve said anything differently.” Dean pauses. “I’ve been so mad at you, Jack and I know that can’t go away overnight, just like I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight. But I’m gonna try to do more and be better. I put your name on the table so you’d know this is your home. It is, it always will be.”
Jack smiles, beatifically really is the only word for it. He gently touches Dean’s shoulder. “Thank you, Dean. Bobby said – Bobby said it was hard for you to let people in but that it didn’t mean that you didn’t care about them. He said he knew you must care about me. And he said we were still family because –”
Dean finishes the sentence with Jack. “Family don’t end in blood.”
That’s right. Another throwback, another thing he has always known, a thing he needs to do a better job of remembering.
And with that, Jack presses his hand more firmly on Dean’s shoulder. It’s still sore so it hurts. At least for a second because then Dean feels a very familiar rush of healing grace flood his entire body, fingertips to toes; Jack’s grace rushing through him.
“Jack,” he gasps when the young God removes his hand, realizing not only is the pain gone, but he now has full range of motion in his arm. “You didn’t have to – I would’ve gone –”
Jack nods. “You would’ve healed on your own, Dean. In time. I just sped up the timeline. We want to give you the best chance. And I - I wanted to."
That is when it really and truly sinks in that this is actually happening.
Jack leans in even closer. He opens his hand and Dean sees a folded up note. He pulls the note out of Jack’s hand. He recognizes Bobby’s handwriting the second he unfolds it. “You love your kid and go get Cas. You know what to do. Don’t be an idjit.”
“I’ve got it,” Sam says from the entryway, his hands full of books. “I’ve got it.”
Dean has it too.
//
“So how’s this tracking spell gonna work?” Dean asks.
Sam is spreading out bowls, books, ingredients, and bits and pieces on the map table. Dean had refused to do the spell down in the dungeon and Sam has agreed. Rowena is on the other end of Sam’s phone, happily lending a virtual assist from Hell. She’s chattering away about what order Sam needs to put everything in.
“It’s not really a tracking spell. It’s more of um…it’s a … finding spell.” Sam says, cautiously.
“Ah, clever,” Jack says.
“Okay so how am I finding Cas?” Dean prompts.
“Well, the thing is…” Sam pauses, clearly trying to pick his next words carefully.
“He’ll find you,” Jack supplies happily. “Sam’s going to use your bond and turn you into the magnet. Cas will be drawn to you.”
“Much like in everyday life, dearie,” comes Rowena’s voice from the phone.
Dean pushes up his sleeves. “Awesome,” he says and he means it so entirely.
And then all that’s left is for Jack to rip open the universe and Dean to step through.
//
and we're spinnin' with the stars above
and you lift me up in a wave of love
//
“He’ll find you, Dean. He will find you,” Sam had promised him right before he smeared the last part of the spell along Dean’s upper arm, the exact place where so many years ago, Cas had gripped him tight.
That’s what Dean is holding to as he stands in the middle of nothing in the middle of nowhere. He had stepped into a void and truly, at last, understands the meaning of the word “empty.” It makes sense now, how Jack and Cas had talked about this place: There’s no end or beginning because there's just nothing.
Dean doesn’t think about any of that and, frankly, he doesn’t care about it either. He does exactly what Sam, Rowena, and Jack had coached him through. He stands still and thinks about Cas.
“Castiel. Cas. Come here. Come to me. Cas - I’ve got something to tell you, something you need to know. It’s me, Cas. I’ve said it before and I’m saying it again: I’m not leaving here without you. Castiel.”
From what seems like a very long way away Dean sees a dancing glimmer of light slowly moving closer and closer to him.
“When the light gets near, you’ll need to close your eyes, Dean. It’ll be Cas’s true form,” Jack warned.
Dean doesn’t want to, though. He wants to see. He wants to know. But he also doesn’t want to fuck this up and get them stuck so he reluctantly shuts his eyes. And he lifts his arm up as high as it will go, spreading his fingers open wide.
“Cas!” he shouts out loud, towards the light, with only his hope to guide him forward.
There’s an endless moment of nothing. No light, no sensation, nothing but Dean’s faith, his family waiting for him, and Bobby’s note in his back pocket.
Then he feels it. An icy cool sensation running down his arm, then enveloping him. He lowers his arm and lets himself be held by Cas, by Cas’s true form. He doesn’t open his eyes but at this moment he can see. Eyes closed, using only his heart, Dean sees the most beautiful and terrifying thing he’s ever seen. Cas. All of him.
There are wings, so many wings, spread wide, full of rich black feathers that are somehow emitting a soft, ethereal glow. There’s layers and layers of feathers in every direction, as far as Dean’s senses will let him perceive. And eyes. Dean can’t even count how many eyes Cas has and they each are looking right at him, full of awe. Some are blinking, some are unmoving, some with full eyelashes, some a rainbow of colors Dean can’t name and they are all focused right on him. Besides glowing, Cas’s true form is lightly vibrating as well, making him sway slightly. It hits Dean that he is completely enveloped by Cas, Cas’s true form. In so many ways, he’s closer now than he’s ever been to Cas. Dean came here to get Cas out and now he’s being cradled inside Cas. He realizes in a way he hasn’t in many years just exactly how otherworldly and other Cas is.
And he loves him. Holy shit he loves him so bad.
“It’s time, Cas,” Dean whispers.
He reaches up and pulls with everything he has in him.
//
Dean hits the ground in the map room and has a brief second to be grateful he didn’t crack his back on the damn table itself before he turns to see ... Cas, right beside him.
“Fuck yes!” Sam shouts.
Rowena’s voice, fierce and proud, comes through as if she were in the room. “Well-done, lads!”
But one voice is clearer than any other. “Dad,” Jack says, his voice breaking. “Dad. ”
It’s one of the best things Dean’s ever heard. Just like that, Jack’s lifted Cas up and has him wrapped up in his arms. Dean feels everything as he watches Cas hug Jack; Jack who presses his face to Cas’s chest and cries, Jack who is God, the Almighty but also just a kid who missed the Dad who always believed in him.
Sam rushes over to check Dean over and he nods gratefully and without thinking about it, pulls Sam in for a hug of his own. He’s done with only hugging Sam when he’s bleeding out. He's not going to be that guy anymore. Sam startles but instantly squeezes him back.
When they break apart, Dean tries out another new thing he doesn’t want to save for the end of the world. “Love you, Sammy. I love you so damn much. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Sam says, tears welling up in his eyes, his shoulders slumping as he lets go of something huge. “I love you too, Dean. Thanks for being my big brother. I’m glad you're still here, man.”
Then Sam clears his throat and steps back. He shakes his head and gives Dean the biggest, happiest grin. “Go on then,” Sam urges.
Dean turns to face Cas, who has similarly ended his hug with Jack. There’s no more than a foot between them now and, in a rush, Dean remembers the feeling of being held in Cas’s true form, the blink and light in his very many eyes, the soft flutter of his feathers.
“Hey Cas,” he chokes out.
“Hello, Dean,” Cas answers.
Dean bridges that very small gap and hugs him, puts his arms around Cas’s neck and reels him in. Cas winds his arms around Dean’s waist, pulling him even closer. He’s almost sure they’ve never hugged like this; held on so tight, clutched each other so close. But it feels exactly, perfectly right.
“It appears I’m human now,” Cas murmurs in Dean’s ear, more than a little disbelieving.
“Yeah,” Dean says, nervous even though he, Sam, and Jack had gone over this, even though he knew it had to happen to get Cas free, nervous that Cas would think it was too high a price. “It was the only way we could figure to get you out, Cas.”
“I am grateful,” Cas assures him, but Dean catches that little wobble in his voice.
He pulls away just the slightest bit. Just so he can look right into Cas’s face and tell him the thing that’s been burning under his skin. He might not be the Heavenly Host but he can offer this. Dean brings his hand up and cups the side of Cas’s face. Cas leans in to the touch and oh, Dean feels his heart triple-time beat at that and –
A soft white glow begins to emanate from Dean’s ring at the exact point it is touching Cas’s cheek. Dean feels it gently warming on his hand. Cas’s eyes grow wide as the light begins to get brighter and brighter.
Distantly, Dean hears Sam say, “What the hell –” before Jack’s voice gets loud. “Close your eyes, Sam! Close your eyes and get down, now!!”
And Dean figures, well, he figures that’s pretty good advice for him too but he just – he just can’t look away this time. And he sure as hell isn’t letting go. So he keeps his hand on Cas’s cheek, he keeps his eyes open and he watches as Cas’s grace bursts free from his ring. For one brilliant, beautiful, shining moment, Cas’s grace fills the room, fills every part of Dean’s vision and, yeah, okay, his soul. It feels like the entire universe expanding right there in the palm of his hand, like the world has shifted on its axis, it’s watching the sun come up on the longest day of the year, it’s a supernova moment of creation.
This is loving Cas, Dean thinks, this is what it’s like.
Cas tilts his head back just the slightest bit and opens his mouth and, like that, his grace has disappeared within him. In the next second, Cas spreads his wings, full and unbroken, as Dean hasn’t seen them for years, never really, spanning from one edge of the room to the other.
Sam’s laughing, joyously, deliriously, from under the map table.
“You brought it through,” Jack marvels. “Dean, somehow you – you –”
“Yeah,” Dean says, looking at Cas with all the wonder and love in his heart, “I brought him home.”
Dean brings his other hand up to hold Cas’s face right in his palms, to cradle him as he’d been cradled, and then he pulls him in for the kiss he’d been waiting his whole life for.
//
when I feel alone
I reach for you, and you bring me home
SIX MONTHS LATER
It’s board game night in the Bunker. Dean’s just gotten back with the pizzas, Eileen is blending up some frozen mixed drinks, and Jack’s dropping in from heaven. Cas and Sam are desperate to get everyone to play their new favorite board game which is actually about creating habitats for friggin’ birds and Dean is so stupid in love he’s agreed. (“It’s beautifully realized and scientifically accurate, Dean. I believe it might inspire a real thirst for conservation!” Cas had wheedled the night before as they lay tangled up in bed. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you want, sweetheart.” Dean had folded like a house of cards and kissed down Cas’s neck. He was so gone.)
Jack pops in right as they sit down and Cas and Sam are about to begin the detailed instructions on how to attract birds to your habitat. “Bobby says hi,” Jack opens with. “And that I shouldn’t eat too many candy bars like last time.”
These days, Jack splits his time between heaven and earth, working diligently at reshaping and restructuring heaven, which Cas helps with, too.
“How’s heaven going?” Eileen signs to Jack.
“Good,” Jack says, filling up his plate with pizza and some of Sam’s salad. “We’re doing all kinds of great stuff I, uh, can’t tell you about. And, oh, I almost beat Charlie at Mario Kart last time and Mary took me fishing and I caught something without cheating. Um…Mom came over to Bobby’s and he made us the casserole I like best and Kevin’s teaching me cello and –” Jack trails off as he seems to catch that he’s talking about people that are gone from most everyone else’s present. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…I’m not rubbing it in.”
“Hey kid, it’s fine. We’re happy here,” Dean rushes to reassure him. And he means it, is the thing.
Sam and Dean are jealous, they’ve talked about that. They’ve lost so many people, how could some part of them not be? But they’re happy, knowing the people they care about are at rest. They've got good lives in the here and now. And they laugh every time Jack brings back Bobby’s now regular message, “Don’t get your panties in a bunch to hurry on up here, idjits. Take your time.”
Take your time. As ever, Bobby has the best advice.
“We’re happy to be right where we are,” Sam echoes Dean’s reassurance. “And we’re happy you get to spend time with our people. We’ll get there.”
“Indeed, Jack,” Cas follows up. “And besides, in our way, we made heaven a place on earth.”
From across the table, Sam and Eileen give almost simultaneous snorts of laughter. Cas just looks confused.
“Sorry,” Sam apologizes, still snickering, “It’s just – it’s just that’s kind of a famous line from this retro pop song.”
“Yes, I’m aware,” Cas replies easily. “Belinda Carlisle, 1987. She’s one of my favorite female pop stars of the 1980s. I put it on Dean’s mixtape.”
Complete silence falls over the room.
Dean braces himself.
“Did you…did you just say…” Sam’s voice is wavering with excitement.
“Some time ago, Dean made me a Led Zeppelin mixtape. Recently I mentioned this to Claire and she informed me that this gesture indicated that even then Dean was attempting to seduce me. Since Dean enjoys being seduced, I decided to return the gesture using some of my favorite female singers.”
Dean figures he’s maybe supposed to be embarrassed now but instead all he can think of is how Cas’s eyes had looked when he’d presented his tape to Dean, proud and hungry, and it just makes him so fucking happy.
Eileen bursts into gales of laughter while Sam’s jaw literally drops open.
Jack gulps down his giant bite of pizza. “When can we listen to it, Cas?” he asks, genuinely interested.
“Dean listens to it in Baby, where he currently has it hidden in a Creedence Clearwater Revival case,” Cas answers genially.
Without another word, and faster than Dean has ever seen him move (even when it was a matter of life and death), Sam shoves his chair back, shoots up from his seat, and runs for the garage. Eileen continues to laugh, now wiping tears from her eyes.
Dean takes a deep breath and slowly stands. He walks over to Cas and puts a finger underneath his chin. He lifts his chin up so their eyes meet. Then he looks down to Cas’s left hand, where his ring finger has a matching ring just like the one Dean hasn’t taken off since that day in the hospital.
He gives a helpless sigh of contentment. “Darlin’, you are so lucky I love you.”
Cas shines a smile back at him. “Believe me Dean, I know what that’s worth.”
Dean bites back a laugh of his own and dips down to kiss Cas.
And as Cas eagerly returns his kiss, so does Dean.
oh baby, do you know what that's worth?
oh Heaven is a place on Earth
they say in Heaven, love comes first
we'll make Heaven a place on Earth
Cas’s Top 13 Pop Girlies 80’s Throwback Traxx
(as discovered by Sam.)
(and enjoyed by Dean.)
(he’ll never tell.)