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It was late summer and there already was a trace of autumn lying in the air. The leaves on the trees were still green but Dean could tell that they would change their colours soon. But for now, the air was warm and a bumblebee lazily crossed his path. He still could hear it buzzing in the distance while he slowly approached the old wooden hut that was standing at the shore of the lake. Dean finally lifted a hand to wave at his old friend who was expecting him on the front porch. The young man smiled at him warmly and motioned Dean to sit down in one of the empty chairs next to him. “Hello Dean, long time no see.”
“Hey there, Jack,” Dean replied.
He never had been able to bring himself to call Jack anything else but Jack and even though Dean was an old man of 83 years by now, to him Jack still was some sort of son he had been allowed to raise for a little while.
Dean lowered himself down into the comfortable chair and groaned. His knees and hip hurt with every move he made these days. But then, it was nothing short of a miracle that he was still alive anyway. That he had managed to make it to this old age in one piece. He could deal with aching joints and a stiff back.
For a while the two men looked ahead over the lake in peaceful and amicable silence but then Dean spoke. “It’s time, isn’t it?” Jack smiled again. While Dean had aged like every human, Jack looked exactly as he always had. “Yes,” the man only replied and reached to the side where he had two bottles of cold beer standing. He handed one over to Dean who immediately opened it to take a long sip.
“That’s alright,” Dean finally replied. He had felt it coming in his bones. It was getting more and more difficult to get out of bed in the mornings. “I am tired. And ready to see Sammy again.”
Sam had died three years ago from a stroke. Dean had mourned his brother and he missed him every day but since he was one of the few humans on earth who knew for certain that death was not the end, he had known that he would see him again and the pain had been bearable. Still, he was old and tired and just ready to move on. There was nothing that was holding him back at this level of existence any longer. He had done the best he could and it was time to retire for good.
Dean and Sam Winchester had been active hunters for as long as their physical health had allowed it and when they had been too old to hunt for themselves, they had supported the following generations of hunters with their knowledge, always being a valuable source of information. But everything had been written down now and Dean’s work here was done.
“Do I need to hold a grand speech now?” Dean turned his head to smile at Jack. Even though his hair was gone and his face looked old and wrinkly, there still was the same spark lying in his bright green eyes as it had when he had been a young man. There also was affection.
Jack returned the smile of affection. Then, after a short moment of silence. “No speeches needed. I have a question though. Is there anything you would do differently if you could go back in time?”
Dean laughed shortly but heartily. “You mean besides starting the apocalypse and all the other stupid shit I’ve done?”
Jack chuckled but quickly fell serious again. “Yes. I mean in a more profound, general sense.”
Dean was silent for a long time, occasionally sipping his beer while sorting through his life in his mind. “There is only one thing,” he finally said quietly. Jack tilted his head curiously but Dean did not elaborate. He only stared at the lake, lost in long-forgotten memories.
And Jack lifted his hand and snapped his fingers.
----
Dean awoke with a start and sat up, immediately realizing that he was lying on a crappy bed in a random crappy motel room. After the years they all looked the same. Sam was sitting at the table in the corner typing something on his laptop.
“Sammy?” Dean asked and his brother turned his head and looked at him. He was young.
“Dean. Have you fallen asleep again? We just returned from breakfast,” he pointed accusingly at the table where a few half-eaten doughnuts and empty paper cups were witness to exactly that.
“Uhm...” Dean said and ran his hand across his head, immediately realizing that he was young again too because he still had all of his hair. And his teeth. “Just a little nap,” he said. He had experienced more than one weird moment in his life to not let this one unsettle him too much.
He scrambled to the edge of the bed. Not one of his joints was aching and it was blissful to get up and stretch this easily. He still had not the slightest idea where he was, what year it was, or what he was doing here. He clearly remembered sitting on that front porch with Jack though, ready to die. And now he was here? That did not make any sense. What had Jack done? And why?
“Cas is going to be here in a few,” Sam said and closed his laptop before he put it away into his bag.
“I will be back in about three days. Just stay here and wait for me alright? Just don’t do anything stupid!”
“Fine,” Dean just replied, still not even having the slightest clue what this was all about.
A few minutes later Sam was gone – probably still slightly baffled about the long and tight hug his brother had given him - and Dean was standing in the bathroom and studying his face in the mirror. He had to be 30-something because there were first wrinkles around his eyes but other than that he still looked young, no grey in his hair yet.
The rustling of Castiel’s trench coat announced the angel’s arrival and Dean flinched in surprise even though he had known that the angel was coming. “Holy shit Cas, can’t you use the door for once like normal people do?” he said, almost in reflex as he had so often throughout his life. Cas always had the habit of appearing unannounced. Once, in the very beginning, he even appeared in the shower while Dean had just taken one. By now he at least had the decency to appear in the next room, though still unannounced.
“My apologies, Dean,” Castiel said as usual and Dean turned around and stepped out of the bathroom and back into the motel room. The angel looked just as Dean remembered. And suddenly the memory hit him like a hammer and his heart began to pound inside of his chest. Because now he finally remembered where he was and what was going to happen. And he also knew why Jack had sent him back to this exact moment.
The one thing he would have done differently.
Castiel didn’t seem to notice his inner turmoil. The angel was standing at one of the windows and looked outside, studying the deserted parking place of the motel even though there was absolutely nothing of interest to see out there. He seemed troubled and Dean already knew why because he had lived through this moment before. Would he be brave enough this time? Dean’s mouth was dry when he walked up to his old friend, coming to a halt next to him.
“I am confused, Dean,” Castiel began to speak.
“About what?” Dean asked, even though he already knew.
“Emotions,” Castiel said while studying the parking place.
“Yeah, they can be complicated,” Dean admitted.
“Everything was simple when I took on this vessel. Black and white. I knew why I came here and what I had to do. There was no confusion.” Castiel fell quiet for a short moment before he added. “But being here on earth is changing me in ways I don’t understand.”
“How so?” Dean said, his heart now absolutely racing in his chest.
“What I feel,” Castiel said, spitting out the last word almost in despair, and for the first time he turned his head and looked at Dean directly with those eyes that so often seemed to contain a hint of sadness. “What I feel when I am around you.” There was confusion lying in Castiel’s eyes, as so often, but there also was something else. Despair, hope, vulnerability. “Or what I feel when I am not around you. I don’t know what that means.”
And Dean remembered. He remembered how scared he had been by those words and their implications, he remembered how he had laughed them off, how he had made some random smartass comment and how the moment had passed and Castiel never had said a word about it again. Ever.
Dean did not know if this was an illusion created by Jack, if he was inside of his memories, or if Jack indeed had sent him back in time to this exact moment. In the end, it didn’t matter. Not really.
The one thing he would have done differently.
The room was very quiet and Dean could hear his own heart beating in his ears. And almost as if in slow motion he took a step towards Castiel and reached for his hand. He lifted it and placed it against his chest so that the angel would be able to feel his racing heart.
For a moment the two men just stood there like that. The expression in Castiel’s eyes changed, yet for once Dean couldn’t read it. “I still don’t understand,” the angel said. “Are you suffering from high blood pressure? Do you want me to heal you?”
Dean couldn’t help but laugh at those words, diffusing some of the tension he felt but he stopped himself when he saw the utter confusion on Castiel’s face. And suddenly he knew with rare but utter clarity that what he was about to do now was right. It always would have been right. He only had been too scared to do it.
“No, I don’t want you to heal me,” he said and leaned forward without hesitation to kiss Castiel, something he already should have done back then. It started as a gentle brush of his lips against Castiel’s but quickly turned into something entirely different when the angel responded with a fierceness and a hunger Dean had not expected. His own body reacted almost on its own accord and Dean’s hands flew up to Cas’ face and neck, while the kiss got deeper and he felt how the angel wrapped his arms around his waist to pull him closer.
He had no idea how long the kiss lasted but when he finally broke apart he was entirely breathless. He also was aroused and flooded by a happiness he rarely had felt in his life. There was no fear, no doubt, and no more hesitation and when Cas finally opened his eyes, there was no confusion lying in them any longer too. Instead, Dean could read surprise, wonder, desire, and happiness. And there was deep affection.
“What you feel is called love, Cas.”