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Dean stares up at the house on the hill. It feels familiar somehow, like he’s been there before even though he doesn’t recognize it.
But Baby’s in the driveway and somehow, he knows that front porch wraps all the way around to a side entrance to the kitchen. Somehow, he knows there are flowerpots littering the bay window in the back that opens to beehives in the backyard. Somehow, he knows the yard has a hill that levels out into a beautiful field, perfect for kids to roll down and land laughing at the bottom.
Step after step he climbs up the hill in a daze, half-remembered memories swirling in his brain. Memories that solidify with each step.
Another step. The memory of a simple wedding.
One more step. A dog bounding out of a shelter to lap at their faces.
He steps faster and faster until he’s running up to the door.
Nieces and nephews. His brother’s laughter and congratulations. The smile of a boy and girl of their very own. Blue eyes shining back at him with love. Being able to say the words back. Arms around him at night.
He’s out of breath staring at the door. Lights are on inside and muffled laughter makes its way through the walls and glass. Dean reaches for the door, trembling hand closing around the handle but not opening it.
He waits. He doesn’t know what for, but he waits. Suddenly the handle is pulled from his grasp as the door swings inward.
“Welcome home, darling,” Cas greets with a tight hug and a kiss to his temple. “Dinner is on the table. Charlie and Kevin have finished their homework already and they’ve been begging to play Mouse Trap all day. Jack said he’d try and make it, but you know how busy he is at college.”
Dean begins to open his mouth to ask … everything. How Cas is back? How it is that they’re living in this house? Are his memories real?
“I know it’s not your favorite, but I promise I’ll make it worth it. After the kids go to bed,” Cas’ voice goes deep and gravelly. He winks at Dean before giving him a kiss on the forehead.
Dean is too stunned to do anything but watch Cas walk away to the kitchen.
How do I know that’s the kitchen? Why does everything here seem so familiar? It’s like … a shadow of another life.
“Dinner’s ready and Dad’s home!” Cas calls from further in the house
Unconsciously, Dean’s feet lead him to the dining room where Cas is setting down a casserole dish with what looks to be …
“Winchester Surprise?”
“With extra cheese, just the way you like it. I think I finally managed to get the recipe right. I thought that you might want some comfort food after being away from home for so long,” Cas explains like everything about this is normal.
“Away?” Dean asks faintly. Cas gives him a curious look and opens his mouth to say something but just then three figures bound around the corner.
One is an energetic young girl with bouncy red hair and freckles. One is a young teenage boy with floppy black hair. One is a long-haired, sandy-colored doodle.
“Dad, you’re back!” The girl takes a flying leap into his arms and Dean barely manages to catch her. “I missed you so much! Kevin hogged the TV the whole time you were gone. All he wanted to do was watch documentaries and since that’s what Papa likes to watch I got outvoted every night!”
“Hey! Don’t listen to Charlie, Dad. We watched A New Hope just last night!” Kevin rolls his eyes and pokes his sister in the side, causing her to giggle. The dog yips playfully around them, jumping up to lick at Dean’s hands.
Cas shakes his head at the four of them, staring with such fondness and joy.
Dean’s heart clenches at the sight of the people, the family, he had lost in another lifetime. All here in some impossible way. All alive and happy and here. He shoves whatever doubts he has aside, shoves the tiny, whispered warning in his head far away.
The longer he’s here in this house, the longer the smell of Winchester Surprise wafts in the air, the longer Cas stares at him with love in his eyes, the longer Charlie and Kevin continue giggling and teasing each other, the more he hopes it’s as true as it feels.
He doesn’t care how he ended up outside at the bottom of that hill, he doesn’t care that Charlie and Kevin are younger and apparently his and Cas’ adopted children, he doesn’t care that Miracle is here.
It’s an alternate world or something, you’re not their Dean. Or it’s a djinn dream. Hell, it might even just be a regular dream. But it doesn’t feel like a dream, it feels … real. I can smell dinner; I can feel the warmth of Charlie’s hug.
So, Dean makes a decision.
He squeezes Charlie tight and swings her around, making her giggle even more. He sets her down on the ground and ruffles Kevin’s long hair, so much like Sam’s when he was a kid.
“I missed you all. So much more than you’ll ever know,” Dean says, tears prickling his eyes as he looks at Cas. He pulls himself together before exclaiming, “Now, Papa made us a wonderful dinner and we’re just standing around letting it get cold. To the table or we won’t be playing Mouse Trap afterwards!”
Charlie lets out a squeal and races to the table, nearly falling flat on her face as Miracle jumps out of her way, barking happily. Kevin tries to play it cool, like he doesn’t care if they get to play the game or not, but Dean sees the way he power walks to the table.
Dean follows behind them all, taking a seat next to Cas at the head of the table. Cas dishes everyone some of the food and then everyone is eating happily. Kevin and Charlie chat about what they’re learning at school and how excited they are for summer.
Dean is so busy soaking in every minute, every sight and sound and smell and taste, that he almost jumps when Cas takes his hand under the table. The man (or angel, it really doesn’t matter to Dean as long as he’s here) leans in close and whispers into Dean’s ear, making him shiver in the warm home.
“I’m glad you’re home, my love. I missed you too, more than you'll ever know,” Cas echoes his earlier words and squeezes his hand. Dean looks down at their tangled fingers and notices the simple, silver band for the first time. He looks up and notices a matching band on Cas’ other hand.
And this is all he’s ever wanted. He has a family, a dog, a home, and his best friend at his side staring up at him with so much love Dean thinks he’s going to explode.
He leans forward, intent on kissing Cas the way he never got to, the way he should have when he had the chance. Cas smiles up at him, blue eyes sparkling with delight. Dean’s breathing hitches and his heart skips a beat as their lips are centimeter from touching.
“Gross! Papa, Dad, at least wait until we go to bed!” Charlie yells at them from across the table. Cas chuckles and leans back into his seat, hands still entwined, while Dean turns to glare at his daughter.
“Just you wait, my little Queen! One day you’ll be all grown up and you’ll be in love and all you’ll want to do is spend every moment together and it won’t be gross at all,” Dean finishes, waving his fork at her for emphasis.
He’s not upset because, for once, he has time. All the time in the world to tease his daughter and kiss Cas.
“Speaking of which, Kevin don’t you have something you wanted to tell your father?” Cas raises a brow at Kevin who begins to blush furiously.
“I, uh, I finally asked Channing out,” Kevin whispers so quietly that Dean’s not even sure whether he’s actually hearing it or just reading his son’s lips.
“What did she say? She said yes, right?” Dean asks, pride filling him. Kevin blushes even deeper and nods. “Kev, that’s awesome! Just be yourself and she’s gonna love you as much as we do.”
They finish eating and Dean helps Cas clear the table while the kids grab Mouse Trap and start setting it up. They maneuver around each other with ease, perfectly in sync as they put away leftovers, and wash and dry the dishes. It feels natural. Like they’ve been doing it for years; like they have always belonged together. They’re just finishing up and Dean snags Cas around the waist, pulling him in close for the kiss that was interrupted at dinner. He’s just dipping his head down when the phone rings.
“You should probably answer that, I’ll check on the kids and see if they have everything set up.” Cas gives his right shoulder a squeeze before heading into the living room. Dean watches him go for a moment, smiling at how lucky he is, before answering the phone.
“Dean? Dean!” Sam’s voice rings through the phone full of distress.
“Sam, what’s wrong?” Dean clutches the phone to his ear.
“Dean … you have … come back …” Sam continues shouting desperately, static breaking up his words and drowning him out, “Fight … hold on … coming!”
“Sam? What are you talking about? I’m fine. I’m more than fine; I’m home. Cas is here, Sam, and Charlie and Kevin. We’re a family. You should come see it. It’s, it’s beautiful.”
The line goes dead and Dean stares down at his phone in confusion.
Why did Sam sound so upset? Maybe something happened with his kids? Maybe they got into an accident or something while I was away.
“Cas!” Dean calls and Cas comes swiftly into the room.
“The game’s all set up and ready to go and I even have pie for dessert later and– What’s wrong, dear?” Cas asks, raising a hand to cup Dean’s jaw and swipe at tears he had no were falling.
“I. I don’t know. Sam called and he sounded…” Dean clears his throat against a sudden, painful lump in his throat. “I think something is really wrong.”
“Dean,” Cas whispers, voice brimming with a love-filled sadness that is much too familiar, “I love you.”
“Cas? Why, why does this sound like goodbye?” Dean grabs Cas’ shoulder. Grabs at the hand on his jaw, trying to hold on.
“Because it is,” Cas’ eyes are filled with unshed tears and Dean wants to scream.
Darkness begins to fill the rooms around them, creeping towards them faster and faster. Dean knows he doesn’t have much time.
“No! Not again, Cas. Please, not again,” Dean begs as Cas slides his hand out of Dean’s grip and takes a step back. “Wait! Stay, please stay. Please!”
Blackness has engulfed the entire house, filling it with silence. It surges toward Cas and Dean tries to reach for him, but he feels himself being pulled away.
“Cas!” Dean cries as darkness swallows Cas’ body, submerging everything but his head.
“I love you, too!” Dean shouts.
Or tries to shout. He chokes on something and feels hands hold down his thrashing body.
“Dean! Help, someone! He’s awake!” Sam’s voice calls from somewhere both close by and far away. “Hey, hey. You’re gonna be alright. Everything’s gonna be alright now. Stay awake, stay with me.”
Dean doesn’t though, he knows he should, but he doesn’t. Instead, he lets himself plunge back into the darkness, searching for Cas.
---
Dean blinks his eyes open and immediately shuts them again as the artificial brightness of hospital lights. His throat aches and he coughs when he tries to swallow.
Immediately Sam is by his side offering him a cup with a straw that he’s assuming is filled with water. He gratefully takes a few sips before trying his throat again.
“What happened?” Dean manages to whisper, “Where’s Cas?”
Sam stares down at him in confusion and alarm. He presses a red button on the side of Dean’s hospital bed before sitting back in the chair that’s been pulled to his side.
“What do you mean, Dean? You told me the Empty took him?” Sam responds cautiously.
“He, I saw him. We had a house, kids, a dog …” Dean trails off confused as the bright memories of the house and his life with Cas begin to fade.
“Dean, what are you talking about? We were on a hunt and you got hurt. Really hurt. I,” Sam pauses to compose himself, “I thought I’d lost you, Dean. You’ve needed surgery and reacted poorly to the anesthesia. You’ve been in a coma for the last five days. I tried everything to get you back. I prayed to anyone, everyone in heaven and hell. But nothing worked. I even tried African Dream Root, but it just took me to a locked door.”
Neurons start firing, slowly, in Dean’s brain.
“Jack?”
“He’s … away at the moment. He couldn’t hear me,” Sam replies with reluctance.
Away? Can’t hear prayers? Where the hell is Jack and why is Sam being so cagey about it?
Dean’s just about to ask these questions when a doctor comes in.
“Nice to see you awake, Dean. I’m not going to sugarcoat it, we didn’t have much hope for you but I’m glad to see that you pulled through,” the elderly doctor grins, patting Dean’s hand and looking at his vitals.
“Doc, can we talk for a moment?” Sam asks and the two of them walk to stand near the door.
Sam tries to whisper, but Dean manages to catch the words. “Did his tests show any signs of brain damage? I mean he’s talking, so that’s good, right?”
“Typically, when someone is in a state of unconsciousness for a prolonged period of time, there is damage done to the brain. That doesn’t appear to be the case with your brother. Miraculously, he doesn’t seem to have any indication of any damage, at least according to the scans we took.”
“Yeah, but he seems confused. He mentioned a dead friend like he was still here, like they had a life together,” Sam whispers urgently.
“Hmm.” The woman ponders Sam’s words before gently saying, “You know, some coma patients say that they experience a sort of religious epiphany or dream state. They say they’re given the chance to resolve unfinished business with loved ones, past and present. Others say they experience a dream world where they live their life as it should have been. I suspect your brother may have experienced something similar. He may be confused that he’s no longer in that ‘other life’ and it might take some time to adjust to reality, especially if he was happier there.”
“Like a djinn dream. Maybe that’s why it took him so long to wake up,” Sam mumbles.
“Pardon? What was that?”
“Nothing, I’m sure you’re right. Thanks, Doc.”
The doctor comes back to the bed and asks Dean how he’s feeling, checks his eyes with a light and, evaluates his reflexes and muscle control. Eventually, she declares him to be fine. He has to spend another day or two in the hospital to make sure nothing is wrong, but he should be able to go home in a few days.
Home. That means the bunker, but it doesn’t quite feel like home anymore. Not when Dean knows what a home with Cas feels like. His heart aches with loss all over again, the wound Cas left ripped open yet again.
Jack? Wherever you are, if you can hear me, please, there has to be some way to save Cas. He was brought back once, we can do it again, right? I mean you’re god now. There has to be a way. I know I can’t get Charlie and Kevin back, but Cas. Please!
---
Dean continues praying. Every day, to both Jack and Cas. Sam worries about him; Dean knows he does. He knows that he is quieter than normal, but he can’t stop or lock away the memory of the few moments of happiness he got while he was unconscious. His other life haunts his waking and sleeping thoughts.
He finds himself setting up Mouse Trap at the library table, waiting for the patter of feet he knows he won’t hear. He makes huge helpings of Winchester Surprise for plates that will never be claimed.
Finally, one day, staring at yet more Winchester Surprise leftovers, Sam asks the question he’s danced around ever since Dean came home.
“What did you see, you know, when you were unconscious? The doctor said that sometimes people make peace or dream.”
“Nothing. It was just … nothing,” Dean sighs, shoving his food around with no intention of eating it.
“Bullshit! You woke up and you asked for Cas. You told me you had a life together,” Sam prods, apparently deciding that Dean is no longer fragile. “C’mon, you’ve been moping around ever since you woke up. Maybe talking about it will help?”
“Fine! You really want to know? I saw,” Dean’s voice cracks and his hands tremble. He sets down his fork and stares at his brother, not hiding the prickle of tears he feels building. “It was … a life where we worked out.”
“I’m so sorry, Dean,” Sam reaches out to grab Dean’s hand, needing no explanation about who the “we” is that Dean's referring to.
The words smash through the walls Dean’s built up to protect himself. He tells Sam everything, even the almost-kisses.
He’s sobbing by the end, hugging his arms around himself. He finally lets himself mourn Cas, mourn the words Dean left unsaid, mourn the dream life he lost.
Sam doesn’t say anything, just comes around the table to hold him. He holds Dean the same way Dean had held him when Jessica died, the same way Dean had held him when he finally accepted that Eileen was gone.
Life goes on, they hunt normal things: vampires, werewolves, and vengeful spirits. They come back to the bunker and Dean talks more, he tells more stories of Cas and Eileen and Charlie and Kevin. He stops trying to forget the pain of their absence.
But he still doesn’t ask the question that Sam’s been waiting for, the question he’s been dreading. Dean doesn’t ask where Jack is or what he’s doing now that he’s god. He doesn’t ask, so Sam doesn’t tell Dean that Jack’s been trying to get Cas out of the Empty. He tries to spare his brother the pain of hoping.
---
“Night, bitch,” Dean calls, lugging his aching body toward his room.
“Good night, jerk,” Sam replies, heading into his own room.
They’d just gotten back from what was supposed to be a routine salt and burn. Unfortunately, it had turned out that the funeral home had been careless with the four burials that had happened on the same day and Dean and Sam had to dig up each grave until they found the right body.
Dean flops on his bed, not bothering to take off anything besides his boots. He turns off the light and waits for sleep, but sleep’s been an elusive bitch ever since he’d gotten back from the hospital.
He’d tried sleeping pills and spells, trying to reach a state of unconsciousness like he had before. He’d been disappointed by the results. He was able to get himself back to the dream of the house, but it was never quite as real. He couldn’t feel Cas’ touch or smell the food or hear the laughter of kids in the background. It was more like watching a faded memory than living in it like he had in the coma.
So, he stopped trying so hard to get back and contented himself to stare into the darkness of the room and try and remember every detail he could to keep the memories vivid, to hold on to his other life for as long as he could. How had Cas’ hand felt on his, how had Charlie’s laugh sounded, how had dinner smelled?
He let the tears come, like they do so easily these days, not bothering to wipe them away or stem the flow. He cries in the dark and prays.
“Dean?”
Dean hiccups, biting his hand to hold back a sob, the memory of Cas calling his name particularly vivid and painful tonight.
“Dean, I’m here. I heard your prayer and I came right here.”
Dean scrambles to flip on the light and grab the gun from his pillow. He aims it at whatever is standing in his room pretending to be Cas.
“Whatever the hell you are, dumb move. I know Cas is gone,” Dean growls, tears still streaming down his face.
“It’s not a trick, Dean,” the thing’s blue eyes tear up and its voice chokes with actual emotion, “Jack did it, he got me out.”
“Cas?” Dean whimpers, lowering the gun. “Is that really you?”
Cas comes closer, sitting on the edge of the bed and cupping Dean’s face, a tear running down his own cheek. “It’s me.”
“Cas, I didn’t get … I was too … I couldn’t say it,” Dean sniffs before saying the words he never thought he’d get the chance to say, “I love you.”
Joy and trepidation clash and swirl on Cas’ face.
“I mean it, Cas. I was in a coma and I was in this dream world and it was … We had a house on a hill with a porch and you had beehives. We had kids, Charlie and Kevin somehow. We had a dog. You made Winchester Surprise for dinner and we were going to play Mouse Trap and it was almost perfect. And I didn’t get to kiss you.”
Cas sucks in a breath, eyes darting between Dean’s, reading the open longing and love Dean lets himself finally show.
“You wanted to kiss me?” Cas asks stupidly, breathlessly.
“I kinda think I have since I met you in that barn, I just didn’t know it or didn’t let myself want it,” Dean chuckles nervously. He tries to duck his head but Cas’ grip is firm, keeping their eyes locked together.
Dean sees the hesitation, the disbelief of the realization that maybe the one thing Cas wanted wasn’t quite as out of reach as he thought.
Dean brings his hand up to Cas’ face, he curls his fingers into the hair at the nape of the angel’s neck. And he leans in to kiss his angel. He stops himself just before their lips touch, waiting for something to interrupt, to indicate that this is just another torturous dream.
Cas closes the distance and they’re kissing. Dean’s crying again, but it's happy tears for once. He’s pulling Cas as close as he can, trying to touch him everywhere as if by touching him Dean can anchor Cas to his side forever.
The door bursts open and Sam stares at them, Jack peeking his head around his shoulder.
“You’re … you’re really back, Cas,” Sam sputters, apparently unfazed by walking in on his brother’s tongue down the angel’s throat.
“I told you I brought him back, and he’s not the only one,” Jack tells Sam, tugging on his shoulder to get him to turn around.
Dean stops kissing Cas for just long enough to hear Sam’s choked sob as he drags Eileen into a hug. Jack winks at Dean before shutting the door.
“Cas?” Dean murmurs into the angel’s dark hair, pausing the kisses Cas is lavishing on his collarbone and neck.
“Yes, Dean?” Cas smiles lazily up at Dean, blue eyes shining.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Dean.”