Work Text:
The blood running down his fingers from the handle of the knife suddenly became the only thing Dean perceived.
During all his years of hunting, he developed many instincts: to defend himself until the last breath, to analyze the place where he was with just a glance, to quickly identify any escape routes. Things like that. The only instinct he would have preferred not to develop was to understand in a split second when things had gone completely to hell.
He wished that wasn’t the case right now, so he could tell himself he wouldn’t lose Cas again.
The monster had reacted so suddenly, so angry... Dean hadn’t even noticed the monster still had Cas grabbed by the arm or he wouldn’t have pounced on him.
And so the knife meant for that son of a bitch had slipped into Cas’s flesh, into his chest, too deep for it not to touch his lung.
And Cas… Cas was looking at him with a surprised and incredulous look. He understood too.
The blood was flowing too fast...
Dean didn’t even scream, he took Cas in his arms and placed him on the ground as the monster ran away, inevitably ending up in the direction of Sam, who killed him with anger.
Dean heard Sam’s hurried footsteps, heard him talking, but struggled to understand his words. Cas, on the other hand, was looking at him, intently, never taking his eyes off him.
Dean had already seen him do this, it had already happened, while he let the Empty take him. Even then Cas had never stopped looking at Dean, as if Dean was the last thing he wanted to see before...
“I’m going to get the first-aid kit. Dean! Keep the wound pressed around the blade! And don’t take it out! We will not let him...”
Sam didn’t finish and ran out of the building.
Baby was parked far away; Sam wouldn’t have time to go and come back, and the wound was too bad anyway.
Blood was pouring copiously from Cas’s wound, it had already soaked his shirt. A coughing fit confirmed Dean’s theory: Cas was spitting blood.
Dean held him in his arms, while tears of anger streaked his face.
How could he lose him again? He went through so much trouble freeing him from the Empty only to have him snatched from his arms a few months later?
Pain and despair joined his weariness.
Why did they always have to end up like this? Why couldn’t there be a fucking happy ending for them?
“Cas, please... Please...” he couldn’t say more, his eyes clouded with tears. He held him tight against his chest as he pressed on the wound around the blade.
“We’ve had more time...” Cas gasped, still looking at him with adoring eyes. “Months... together... I’m happy...”
Dean shook his head, furious, and was about to reply when his attention focused on the thing that had bobbed on his chest at the movement. There, hanging from a thin metal chain, was the vial with what was left of Cas’s grace.
To save his Angel, he had had to take away from him his first nature, the essence that made him what he had always been.
Now that same grace could do the miracle!
Why hadn’t he thought of it before?!?!
“Wait! Cas, hold on! I can give you your grace, you can heal yourself!”
Cas shook his head weakly as Dean tried to figure out how to hold the wound and take the vial at the same time. Not an easy feat. The sticky blood between his fingers made the vial slide, and the trembling of his hands certainly didn't help
“No,” Cas whispered, fighting the cough his body was using to rid his lungs of blood. “No, Dean...”
“No? You want to die? Do you want to leave me here like this? Seriously?”
“It’s too little to heal a body.” He coughed badly again, spitting blood, but immediately spoke again, grabbing Dean’s wrist. “... a dying body... But it would make me an angel again...”
Dean froze, understanding the problem.
“Let me... let me die human, please... I’ll wait for you there. But at least then...”
“We’ll be in the same place...” Dean whispered, broken.
Cas nodded, smiling, his mouth red, blood trickling down the sides of his lips.
“Live.” Cas sighed then. “Live and be happy.”
Dean squeezed him, closing his eyes so as not to burst into tears. He refrained from telling Cas that he could never live a happy life without him. He might as well end up impaled somewhere and reach him as soon as possible. Soul mates found themselves in heaven, right?
Not that this thought did Cas and his love for him much credit, Dean was aware of that.
But Dean also knew that Cas was his safe space, he was reassurance for his soul, he was love and acceptance. Cas was freedom.
Dean wouldn’t find anything like it again, and he didn’t want it either. His happiness was with Cas, it made no sense to think otherwise, not anymore.
He looked at Cas, who was still staring at him with all the love in the world in his eyes.
“Loving you… was the best thing of my life” he gasped, as blood poured from his mouth, making his paleness even more obvious.
Cas’s breathing was now heavy, short, and the color was leaving his face.
“Cas... I need you, please... please!”
Cas smiled faintly and something in his body changed. He was relaxing. He was letting go.
Dean went through a wave of panic and then anger.
There was nothing he could do?!
He wanted to ask Jack for help, but he knew he would do no good; Jack had been clear… after what he had to do to save Cas, any other interference from him could be a disaster for everyone.
Yet the vial around Dean’s neck was starting to weigh more.
Was it possible that Jack was trying to tell him something by working a little magic?
Because, really! The vial was more and more heavy!
Cas didn’t want to risk dying as an angel, and who could blame him?
The Empty hated him and would have made him go through hell if he had gone back there. Not to mention that in the Empty he would be alone, they would never see each other again.
So, okay, giving him back the grace with the risk that it wouldn’t be enough was an idea absolutely out of the question.
But Dean couldn’t stand there watching the life slip away from the body of the man he loved without doing anything, it wasn’t in his nature.
In his nature was doing something stupid and crazy – but usually right. Why change it now?
He let go of Cas’s wound, there was no point in holding it. He concentrated on the vial rather. He tore it from his neck and opened it, looking at it with a mixture of awe and tenderness. Was he really going to do it? Hell, what did he have to lose? He was born to be the perfect vessel of an archangel, his body could handle a little grace. And the fact that that was just pure grace, without Cas’s identity, perhaps could give Dean some angelic abilities without making him a body possessed by a dead angel.
Their life would be a mess… but at the moment it didn’t matter.
He took a deep breath, hoping he wasn’t doing something too stupid, and swallowed Cas’s grace.
For a few seconds nothing happened, then he felt a strange tingling under his skin, a comforting warmth in every cell of his body. And the power hummed through his veins.
It wasn’t much, but he was still there.
He brought his hand back to Cas’s wound, pulled out the blade, and pressed on the wound with the palm of his hand. He had no idea how the healing abilities of angels worked and he had only one chance so he decided to let himself be guided by his gut: as if it were new… he'd lived like this all his life, now wasn't the time to try anything new.
He filled his head and heart with the few things that really mattered, as if he were praying, pleading, holding on to what he wanted.
He loved Cas. He loved Cas. He loved Cas.
He just thought about that and the feel of the wound under his palm.
That wound was taking Cas away from him. And he loved Cas. Cas had to stay with him. Cas had to be fine. Cas had to love him for many years to come. Cas had to live with him. Cas…
His hand pinched and became warm as Cas’s skin would stick together. But Cas was still breathing hard. If he hadn’t healed his lung, Cas wouldn’t have survived anyway.
The itch in his hand began to wear off and Dean panicked.
Not yet! Wait! Last a little longer! Just a little longer!
He moved his hand further down, to the middle of Cas’s chest, and let the grace burn through him, consuming itself permanently, as Cas jumped and took a deep breath.
Weakened, Dean opened his eyes, looking at Cas’s surprised expression.
“How did you do it?” he asked, his beautiful blue eyes wide and incredulous.
Dean felt his head spin. He was about to pass out.
“I love you,” he told him, blinking rapidly trying to refocus his sight. “And we are done hunting.”
Cas held his breath and Dean smiled, letting go. He knew Cas would catch him.
***
The kitchen was silent, illuminated with the soft light of the single candle Cas had brought with him. He hadn't wanted to turn on the light so as not to attract Dean’s or Sam’s attention, he needed that time alone.
He twirled the vial between his fingers, looking at it with a lost expression.
That empty vial suddenly became very heavy.
His grace was gone. His essence had been used to save him. His light had become one with the man he loved before it was burned forever.
And none of those thoughts were making him worry as much as the idea that Dean decided to give up hunting because of him.
Lost in thought, he didn’t notice Sam enter the room and turn on the light, making him jump.
“Cas, man… what are you doing here? Everything’s fine?"
Cas nodded as Sam grabbed some milk from the fridge and a saucepan from the shelf.
“Is Eileen not well?”
“Oh, no, she's fine, but it's these cravings that…I didn't think they would be so challenging.”
“It's normal for pregnant women,” Cas commented, hoping Sam wouldn't investigate why he was there in the middle of the night, alone, staring at a vial.
"Yes, well... I just hope she doesn't crave watermelon, I don't know where to go get it..."
Cas smiled and stayed silent.
He and Sam always spoke very freely, and since Cas had become human they were closer than ever.
They could share a space in perfect silence without being uncomfortable. Being close to Sam was easy. But Sam was also very intuitive and he knew immediately when he could investigate or when he needed to let it go.
That night, he decided to investigate.
“Last night was rough, man…” he sighed, turning to Cas. "How are you?"
"Good," Cas replied dryly.
Sam raised an eyebrow slightly, lit the fire under the saucepan with the milk, and took a seat in front of Cas.
“You are up at four in the morning, with a candle lit for light… How are you?”
Cas sighed and shook his head, returning his gaze to the vial.
“Dean wants to quit the hunt because of me,” he said softly.
Sam let out a sigh.
"Finally..."
Cas looked up sharply in disbelief.
"Excuse me? I’m telling you Dean is sacrificing himself to keep me safe and you… you are okay with that?”
“Oh, Cas, it's not your fault that he's doing this.”
"Of course it is."
“Cas, it's because of you, not your fault.”
Cas looked at him, dazed.
“You… you agree with his decision?”
"Of course I agree! The family is getting bigger, we are no longer kids and we have hunted enough. It's time to step back and enjoy our lives before something bad happens."
“But… Dean… Dean always loved to hunt.”
“No, Dean has always loved saving people. And I bet he will still do it, one way or another, but now he has you and he doesn't want to lose you. It’s understandable."
Cas watched him in silence for several seconds, before confessing what weighed on his heart.
“I feel like I'm taking something away from him.”
Sam smiled and shook his head, standing up.
“Cas, every time you died… I don't know if Dean ever told you, but… he transformed. Losing you destroyed him. Every time. I don't want to see my brother like that ever again. He's deciding to stop hunting because you're giving him a reason to live."
With that said, as if he hadn't just dropped a bomb, Sam went back to the stove, poured the hot milk into a mug and walked out of the kitchen smiling at Cas.
Silence descended heavily into the space, making its way into a constant rumble in Castiel’s chest.
***
"I just want to be sure that for you it's not a hasty decision," Cas kept insisting, observing Dean with a determined look.
Stretched out in bed, Dean snorted impatiently.
“It's a decision I should have made when I got you back from the Empty, and you know it. We can train the new recruits, but we will no longer expose ourselves to danger, not directly. You understand?" He reached out and stroked his face, moving closer to Cas. "Tell me why you're so sure this is a bad idea?"
“Because I know you want to help people. In a while it will start to weigh you down, you will want to start again… so why stop?”
“I also want to keep you safe and enjoy the life I have. I think we earned it.”
Cas didn't reply, he cocked his head to one side pressing Dean's hand between his cheek and shoulder.
“What if you regret it after a while?” he asked in a whisper. “I don't want you to let my presence condition you. We're free now, Dean. And you must be able to decide for yourself, without my humanity as a burden."
Dean leaned fully against Cas's side, slipped his hand out of his grip, and slid it over his torso, hugging him and snuggling against his chest where he'd stabbed him.
The steady rhythm of Cas's heart was reassuring.
“Your humanity is not a burden. I love hearing you snore.”
“I don't snore!”
“Oh, man… you have no idea…”
“You kick me every night,” Cas scolded, and Dean laughed.
“This is why I want to stop hunting, Cas,” he sighed, squeezing him. “I want to have this for as long as possible. Please…"
Cas gave up, ran a hand through Dean’s hair, massaging his head and making him relax.
Maybe Dean was right. Maybe it was time to enjoy what they had.
And having Dean in his arms, peaceful and relaxed and happy, was so much more than Castiel had ever imagined he could have.
"As you wish" he whispered into his hair, inhaling his scent.
Perhaps, in the end, his last grace did the greatest miracle.
It set them free forever.
