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Mid heart attack and Cas still managed to walk his sorry ass out the door.
Billie was taking her time with Dean Winchester. If oblivion was running for them all then his demise was the final curtain. Unlike the previous Death, Billie was a whole Hell of a lot more bitchy. Sometimes Dean missed the old cholesteral-eating bastard.
“Cas-” He managed out, but the angel wouldn’t have it. They stumbled along, and Death walked. She had her fingers curled tight on Dean’s heart, and as Dean always found, his best friend didn’t take kindly to that.
Best friend was the least appropriate way to describe them. Ten years ago they were closer to enemies. Eight years, and they were a shakedown away from friendship. Now they were complicated-but wasn’t that the story of Dean’s life. Nothing could ever be a straight shot. If an obstacle didn’t stand in his way, then it wasn’t Dean Winchester’s life. For a long time, he didn’t think happiness was something he could even deserve. Now he knew that despair was written into his bones, hidden, just between the engravings on his ribcage.
In time, maybe God would pay for that.
Cas swept them into the storage room and shut the door tight. Billie’s scythe could be heard scraping down the hallway. The hunter barely processed Cas taking the knife to bloody the door in protection.
Dean’s heart returned to beating, and he leaned forward against the chair with every ounce of hope he had left. Here they were, locked in with nowhere left to go. Cas was backing away from the door, and for a moment Dean pondered if this was how Cas felt getting silver staked through his heart all of those years ago.
Their eyes met, and that stupidly unspoken knowledge translated between the cold space. This felt like the end, and remorsefully, Dean tore his gaze down and apologized for all of the stupid shit he never said. Only on the tip of Death’s blade did Dean grieve all that could have been different.
“It was Chuck, all along…” Dean lifted his eyes and water welled against the forest within them. Cas’ blue eyes widened when the approaching sound became a knock against the door. Sparks shimmered from behind him. He was left with the weight of the world anchored to the tail of that iconic trenchcoat, and Dean ached a little more for it. He swallowed, “We never should’ve left Sam and Jack. We should be there with them now.”
Despite the fear, Castiel looked awfully ready to fight and die. He was a beautiful fighter, but right now he wanted Cas to be anything but.
A chuckle fell from his lips and died against the seat of the chair. “Everybody’s gonna die, Cas. Everybody...” Hope fell much the same. “I can’t stop it.” He released the chair, and the knocking felt slower and louder against their ears.
Both Dean and Cas found themselves watching the door with grim curiosity. When was that dam going to break? All the while, Dean was rounding to his feet. Something has to stop this. Could anything stop this? Hell, Dean would do anything to stop this from happening. Yet here they were.
When Death comes knocking at your door you can do two things. Either accept impending doom or die trying to stop that inevitable. Their knuckles were knock, knocking against the sigil on the door. ‘Who’s there?’ Dean wanted to laugh out bitterly.
It feels like the beginning of a really bad joke.
“She’s gonna get through that door.” He decided to say instead.
Cas could hardly look at Dean now. “I know,” he rumbled, but there was so much more on the tip of his tongue. The tension was the only thing keeping Dean from shaking those thoughts right out of him.
“First she’s gonna kill you,” because you're a stupidly handsome bastard, and you're stubborn enough to die for me. “Then she’s gonna kill me.”
The two clicked at the same time. Cas shuddered at that moment. His eyes roamed the storage and somehow scrapped together some kind of idea.
Dean Winchester began to smile at that, and it was the same sad deflection of old. Something in his gut churned with urgency. If Dean didn’t speak now, he had a damn good feeling he would never get the chance again. “And you know what Cas? I’m damn okay with that.”
Oh?
Castiel, rightfully, stared through Dean as if something had taken a hold of him. His head cocked gently, his eyes squinted, and Dean could almost see the old Warrior of God as it deepened his eyes. His head shook in protest. “Dean,” the angel began gently. It was that tone of voice so specially reserved for the hunter. “We can’t give up now.”
Perhaps Dean should just open the door. Cas held enough hurt in his eyes to smite all three of them.
“I think I have an idea. Something I can do to-”
Steps completely blanked from Dean’s mind. One moment ago, he was hovered by the shelf. Now he was laying hands to shoulders. Maybe it was his turn to grip the angel tight and raise him from perdition.
“No.”
“Dean-”
“You’re not he-aring me.” Dean felt his throat crack down to the base. For a moment, it was anger. “Because you don’t know how many times I’ve seen this shit. That guts splattered, body drowning, grace scattering kinda bullshit- and I’ve watched it, Cas. Over, and over, and over again-”
“-and I’m sorry for it all. You didn’t deserve that. But-”
“-But what?” Dean snapped back. His brows furrowed towards the softness of the angel. “But you're about to do something stupid, aren’t you? You’re going to sacrifice yourself just like you always do when times get tough.” He breathed something unintentionally furious. They both knew that feeling in Dean’s heart was anything but anger. “Last I checked, pal, someone beat my ass in an ally for doing the same thing years ago, and I know it wasn’t Michael.”
More sparks flew from over Castiel’s shoulder, and it looked awfully similar to the barn they first met in. Dean watched that sigil, and a tear tipped over and trailed down his cheek. Cas looked as helpless as Dean felt hopeless. With that hopelessness, however, Dean still felt love. It made up who he was even on the days he felt completely cut dry of it.
Cas could always feel how much Dean loved, but he never seemed to comprehend that he was also a part of that love.
The door breathed with the power of Death. “Cas,” Dean tried again much calmer now. “You…You keep saving me. I never think I deserve it, but you do it anyway, and I can never understand what would possess you to do it.”It took maybe every nerve in his body not to throw a ‘man’ or ‘dude’ at the end of that statement. Dean was too cowardly to look his angel in the eye. “No matter how many times you die, that isn’t going to fix me up and make me feel worthy, Cas,” he breathed the name like it was life. “Because I love too much and it makes me angry-and I’m so angry all of the God damn time-” The door heaved under the force.
“-But I love you!” His green eyes locked with the blue ones. He had so little time to convey so much. That was okay though, because both of them stared like they understood. “And I need you to tell me," He paused, "that it’s okay.”
He was a deer in headlights. “...Okay.” Cas tried to swallow something down. It looked like a smile. “It’s okay to love Dean-”
Dean couldn’t stand that. “With you, dumbass. I’m in love with you!” The clarification felt stupid, but it flickered something within the angel’s eyes. Something like recognition and hope. The door was falling down but Dean gripped Castiel tight. It would be so easy to push him away, but Cas didn’t move a molecule.
Instead, Castiel would stare into the void of death. Dean met Billie’s eyes from the other side, so he didn’t see the darkness as it shot out for the two of them.
“Dean I-”
There was the sound of something wet and gurgling from behind. The hunter threw a glare back to the inky black, and that was the last thing he saw before turning back and stepping into Cas’ space. With every intention of dying after this moment, Dean did the one thing he never let himself do. He kissed the soldier of God.
Cas relaxed, even as the dark matter swirled around the both of them. Dean was kissing him, completely unaware that this joy in Cas’s chest was about to kill the both of them. Dean didn’t care, because of course he didn’t. He loved the world with every fiber of his being…Cas loved the entire world because of him. Dean came up to Cas in a rush, but it was the most gentle experience in all of creation.
They breathed their last breath into one another. As Dean brought his hand to the side of his head, a tendril lapped against it. His other hand wrapped around his back and it was more comfort than the angel felt he would ever deserve. The kiss was a seal of death for them both. Dean stamped the passport, and the two hung into each other as the light beyond their eyelids went dark.
A sound came from Billy. It was a quick spurt of panicked scuffing followed by silence. At about the same time, the entity began to tug at them as well. Dean wasn’t letting go, and strangely enough, the Empty couldn’t stop him. Dean hugged Cas as if determined to follow the angel into oblivion. This darkness didn’t seem keen on taking the contaminant, and Castiel didn’t know whether to be relieved or offended.
Something within Cas began to stir as well. A clawing, muted scream within his essence. Then a burning erupted from between his shoulder blades. Dean felt it. The grace went through Dean’s hand in a wave that made him cling all the tighter. This blue wave of light followed the Empty into oblivion.
Cas was curled against Dean’s arms, but his grace was shifting and flowing as it went into the Empty to suffocate. The void of black closed behind it, never to see light again. Only then did Cas crack open his eyes.
Here he stood, in the unsettling silence, alive and human. It was a strange transition. One moment the universe was a thousand different shades. Now it was a select few. The burn between his shoulders began to fade and it left behind a very human exhaustion.
Dean felt the shake just before his Angel collapsed, and he pressed them together protectively to then ease them to the ground. Cas was small in his arms. “Cas?” Came the gruff of immediate panic. A phone began to buzz and the hunter distantly recognized it as his own. His eyes were welled, and his nose buried against the black hair with little regard for whatever the fuck Sam had to say. It could wait two damn minutes.
His heart hammered in terror. It was supposed to be both of them or neither of them, Dean had decided. Dean couldn’t live through this again. “...Please don’t do this to me.” His face brushed against the hair. A second tear rolled down his cheek, but he kissed his forehead and sat up to make them more comfortable
Life returned to the both of them when Cas began to stir. The angel was clouded in drowsiness, but he lifted his eyes and-oh. He was still beautiful.
“There he is,” Dean teased, but it had no fire.
At first, he didn’t seem to register the fact that he was alive. Cas looked at the Winchester with a washed-out gaze that barely absorbed the new confining colors. Of course, the first color he recognized was the color green. “Dean?” Came the tumble of rocks within his throat.
Dean’s dangerously happy expression drooped down by a fraction. He laughed awkwardly. “Well, yeah…Gee, don’t look too happy to see me Cas.”
“I’m more than happy to see you, Dean. Always.”
Dean blushed and looked away towards the broken door. Then he craned his neck to try and observe the wall. “Was that the party trick you wanted to use so badly?
The angel scooted back by a fraction. His head would remain on Dean’s shoulder for some much-needed support. “Want is a strong word.” He’d grumble. It was irrationally adorable. “I made a deal with the Empty a while ago. It told me that it would take me away at my happiest moment in exchange for Jack.”
Dean contemplated those words. His index ghosted against the back of the soldier’s hand, and it twirled around knuckles as he pondered. “Too trusting, Dr. Dreamy?”
Castiel coughed out in return. “No. I think the proper phrase of choice is dumbass.”
Oh, how Dean loved this man. It terrified him. “More dumb. More ass. Gotcha.” No one could expect perfection out of a man as broken as him. These moments were a sure reminder of that. A minute of silence passed between them, and Dean had the audacity to open his mouth. “I’m sorry, Man-mm, Cas.” He cringed at the deflective slip.
But Cas didn’t mind. He rebuilt the human long ago and found his mannerisms often endearing. “That isn’t typically how someone should respond to saving my life.” He picked up his head, brows notched upward, and he narrowed his eyes like the hunter was oozing with pitch-black tendrils. “Unless,” and he leaned away further. “Was…I can leave if you want. I didn’t mean to…Dean, surely you know I wouldn’t have-”
“No, no, shut up right now and ground that feathered ass of yours.” Dean reached out and tugged Cas back down. With how easy it was, Dean almost wanted to call Cas human. “Or non-feathered ass-that isn’t the point! I don’t want you to leave!”
His eyes widened, and Dean couldn’t help but wonder how long Cas had waited for those exact words. Probably too damn long. “You’re sure?”
It was one of their unspoken rules. When in emotional burden, flee the scene. Dean was the first to introduce it, but Cas did it better. There was a fine line between them, but it broke on the catch of their lips. Shit had to be different now. Well, it didn’t have to be. Dean could let the Angel run right now if he wanted to. They would avoid each other for a while, probably drive Sam up the wall, and return like nothing had happened.
That felt impossible now.
“I’m sure. Now come on. Let’s get you somewhere less sorry and grey. It feels like a graveyard in here.”
Dean helped Cas to his feet and slung an arm under his own. It was a little funny when Dean thought about it. Cas stumbled into the room with Dean and now the hunter stumbled right back out with the angel slung against him. He looked more exhausted than injured, but if Dean felt a little extra protective then sue him. He just confessed and kissed his best friend. That was almost too much to think about.
So they traveled the halls in semi-comfortable silence. Dean brought Cas to his room and the adorable idiot gave Dean a look. Cas was practically pushed past the door. “Wow, Cas, take me to dinner first,” He joked in return.
He'd huff in amusement and allowed Dean to sit him on the bed. Cas politely removed his shoes and set them aside.
Then he tried to lie down. “Nu, uh. Come on Cas.” Dean flickered his finger and stepped forward persistently. “You can take off the tax accountant get up. In this shape, you’ll have a heat stroke in no time.” Dean wasn’t exactly sure how correct that was, but he pushed that to the back burner.
Dean would help Cas remove his brown trenchcoat, and the black jacket underneath. Cas smiled. “At least take me to dinner first,” he’d echo. The hunter rolled his eyes and hung the jackets over his office chair. The upturn of his lips were charming.
“Eventually, you’re gonna have to tell me what that was, and then I’m gonna kick your ass for it.”
“Dually noted.”
“Until then,” Cas felt the side of the bed dip. Dean watched him fondly. “You’re gonna get a little bit of rest, and I’m gonna…” The weight of the world had to be settling in again because that tension in his shoulders knotted in warning. He’d run a hand down the entirety of his face. “...I’m going to figure something out.”
Cas hummed in acknowledgment, watching the Hunter’s side profile as he tried to process reality. Dean didn’t know how beautiful he was. With the yellow light filtering in from the door, the older Winchester had every ounce of angelic perfection that Castiel now lacked.
Despite the fall back to humanity, Cas was easily just as beautiful.
After another moment of gears grinding against gears, Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and turned his attention back to Cas. His green eyes were darker in this lighting; closer to evergreen. Cas’ blue eyes forever shined with the reflection of the Arctic Ocean. The hunter smiled into those eyes, and he squeezed Cas’ hand before rising back to his feet.
“Dean?” Came the hoarse voice from the bed. Dean paused at the doorway, body going soft as he redirected his attention back into his room.
The hunter could get used to seeing Cas all cozy in his bed. “You need something?”
The smaller would have to get used to feeling bashful. For now, he pushed the feeling into his chest and prayed for it to go back to sleep. Love, now that he would surface willingly. “I could feel it. When I had my wings, I mean. Your love.”
His brows rose at the admission. “My love for you?”
“Your love for everything, Dean. For Sam, for me, for the entire world.” He grunted in an attempt to sit up. This would alert the hunter, who hung by the exit. “Ever since I made that deal, I wondered what my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer…because the one thing I wanted. It was something I couldn’t have.”
“Yeah?” Dean inched back through the door and closed into Cas’ side. White noise fell over them. The bedsprings creaked quietly as Dean took his rightful place at Cas’ side.
He had a strong feeling the two of them weren’t finished quite yet.
Cas looked away and Dean ducked his face back into his angel’s field of view. “Cas?” He’d urge on. Dean often forgets the softest parts of himself. He barricaded them so tightly within his lungs that he misplaced where they were. “What are you talking about?”
In one teary-eyed look, Cas doomed the both of them to this. “I know,” Cas’s throat rumbled with emotion. “I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you.” Even when Dean’s lips parted, the soldier pressed on. “You’re destructive, and you’re angry, and your broken. You’re your daddy’s blunt instrument.”
His callused hand closed around Cas’ softer one. “Cas’ look…” His eyes shifted awkwardly. Like the rest of his emotions, Dean’s throat closed on the spot.
Cas reached a hand out to brush against the hunter’s cheek. “You think that hate and anger, that’s what drives you, that’s who you are. It’s not, and everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love.”
“Cas-” Dean was being pulled and he had no choice but to follow Cas further onto the bed. He’d hover, and his third tear tonight was awfully close to falling.
“You raised your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are.” Castiel, the tender Angel of Thursday, brought his second hand to Dean’s face. His thumb ran gently against the constellations scattered along his cheekbone. “You are the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know.”
Dean sniffled completely against his own will and somehow, Cas only smiled brighter. This wasn’t something Dean was supposed to hear. He didn’t deserve to be praised and he knew it. Yet here Cas was, smiling, and crying as he defended every cell of goodness left in his beaten and battered soul. His eyes squeezed shut.
That voice of his demanded to be heard. “You know,” Cas soothed. “Ever since we met. Ever since I pulled you out of Hell. Knowing you has changed me.”
He couldn’t believe it.
“Because you cared. I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam. I cared about Jack. But I cared about the whole world, because of you.”
“Stop.” His eyes flickered open and he looked to the wall, the shelf, the headboard. Dean’s heart clenched tight and he could feel the water that dared to threaten his dignity.
But Cas brought them close. Hell, he nudged his head back and forth as if to rattle the hunter out of his sinking mind. “-You changed me Dean.” he’d emphasize, and the weight of his humanity heaved with it.
That was when the damn broke. That’s when every pain erupted in a shudder from his chest. It was jumping into ice-cold water, and Dean leaned in to share his weight with the single being who could bother with it.
“I-”
“I love you,” Dean mumbled. It surprised both of them.
It fell from his lips as wine, and Cas was drunk on it. Even as they eased into a kiss, he couldn’t stop smiling. Dean was a flood of emotion and if Cas held him tight enough, maybe that would stop the dam from breaking.
Dean heaved something between a whimper and a sigh when they touched. Comfort wasn’t a woman he knew well, and you know what? Comfort wasn’t a woman to begin with. The hands to his face lulled him into a short trance. The angel tilted their faces until he could curl a finger around the short strands of hair, and that was comfort.
“I love you too, Dean,” Cas mumbled into the kiss. Well, now they were both smiling like idiots.
When they finally parted, it was into separate but equal states of dishevelment. Cas was beautifully teary and happy. Meanwhile, Dean was wiping the emotional wreckage from his face. “Gee, I really hope so Cas-” Dean found himself chuckling out. The two locked eyes just long enough for Dean to collect his thoughts.
He was slow, but it came to him eventually.
“...Shit, yeah. I was going to get your ass some water.” The hunter crawled away after quickly running a hand up through Cas’ hair. It still looked like a mess. He got up from the bed and made his way back to the door.
When he got to the door, fate paused him again. This time, it gifted him a smile. “Hey, Cas?” He began, shoulders lighter than ever before,
“Yes, Dean?”
He turned over and touched his shoulder to the frame. “Knock knock?”
Even from the darkness of the bedroom, Dean could still make out the tilt of Cas’ head. “Um, who is there?”
“Death.”
Now Cas was pouting. He built his own parental look from scratch and the hunter loved him all the more for it, “That isn’t very funny Dean.”
“Ah, come on man. It’s kind of funny!” Dean waited, and waited, and waited, until finally Cas shook his head and succumbed to a small smile.
“Only because I know how clever you think you are.”
Dean could take that as a win.