Work Text:
Dean loves his job; long hours, great pay and in a way, it’s a bit of an escape. He likes to clean an empty building after hours so he’s alone with his music and not really in his thoughts. With a new project the scientists are working on, they hardly have time to pay attention to Dean; he’s like a fly on the wall most days. Seeing most of these scientists in their own environment is a great experience. It’s almost like watching a reality show sometimes but there’s something that’s been bothering him recently: he’s not allowed to go into one room; it is always locked. His curiosity gets the best of him though. After buffering, he looks around just in case someone stayed after hours. Seeing nobody in sight, he takes a breath and twists the knob; it’s locked.
“Of course” he says as he shakes his head and continues onto the next rooms.
The next day he comes in, and again, tries to turn the knob, “This shit is gonna become routine, huh?” he says to himself, “Alright, I guess I’m just gonna keep doing this. Damn scientists. I’m their lab rat now.”
After a few more days, Dean gets a call from his brother, “Heya, Sammy.”
“So we’re still on for the barbecue at my house next week?”
“What else am I gonna do on a Saturday?”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll see you then.”
Saturday comes far too fast for Dean, he's never been the type to socialize, it was one aspect Cas always disliked about him. Faking smiles, faking conversations, it’s all fake, making Dean emotionally exhausted. When Sam finally leaves his friends and the grill, he immediately walks over to Dean.
“Hey, so. How’s life?”
“It’s okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Hey, there’s this room at work that’s like, always locked. I wanna see what’s in there but I can’t get in.”
“Sooo…”
“So the amount of energy this group is putting into their project…You would’ve thought that they found the holy grail. And I’m willing to bet that the chalice cup is behind that locked door. Figuratively, if only I had a way in...”
“Come on, man. I know you still got it.”
Sighing, Sam takes a gulp from his beer, “You gave it to me to stop you from getting in trouble in the first place. You used that damn lockpick and got fired when you got caught. You really want that happening again? You’ve just started this company, like, two years ago.”
“I’m curious.”
“Curiosity killed the cat, Dean. This is BlackRock, dude. This organization is huge. That room is locked for a reason.”
“That just makes me want it more. Forbidden fruit, Sammy.”
Drinking the rest of his beer, he squints his eyes at Sam.
“I’ll get you another burger. Yeah?”
Dean simply shrugs as he goes and grabs another beer from the green cooler.
When he sits down away from the party, one of Sam’s friends drunkenly comes over, “H-hey uh, Dean! Right? Yeah, yeah, Dean. Hey so how’s- how’s life been treating you? Haha remember that one day you and Cas dove in the pool and he shat himself? Hahahaha that was hilarious! But uh, hah, how- how you doing?”
“Fine. ‘scuse me.”
Dean drinks the entire bottle as he walks inside the house, getting away from the noise of people laughing and talking.
Sam unfortunately heard though as he punches his friend in the arm, “Why the fuck would you mention Cas? You know we don’t talk about him. The accident is still fresh, dumbass.”
“It’s been a year, Sam.”
“Yesterday. It’s been a year, yesterday, Brady. Don’t mention Cas around Dean, it stings too much for him. Idiot.”
Sam finds Dean on the couch, staring at a blank television, drinking from his flask,
“Dean?” Sam asks softly as he approaches him like someone trying to calm down a wild beast.
Still staring blankly at the dark screen, Sam sees his eyes are unfocused; he stands in front of him, blocking the reflection he sees in the TV, “Dean?”
Finally, Dean lifts his eyes towards him, “Hmm?”
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Sam looks at his liquor cabinet and back at Dean, “Maybe because my liquor cabinet is opened and you’re drinking the hard stuff again. Flask wasn’t enough?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, man.”
“Dude, my cabinet’s pried opened with most of my drinks shuffled around. You only do that when you’re. When you’re thinking really hard.”
“I’m fine, Cas.”
“What?”
“I said I’m fine, Sammy.”
Drowning himself more, he downs the rest of the bottle as he staggers to his feet.
“Dean. Maybe you should rest for a bit?”
“Yeah. Good idea.” Dean says as he plops down hard on the soft cushions. As soon as his head hits the back of the couch, he’s out like a light. Sighing, Sam softly touches him on his arm. Getting a soft snore back in return, he lies Dean down on the couch and takes off his shoes. He jogs to his linen closet to retrieve a blanket and places it gently over his brother. Knowing his friends will be looking for him, he jogs back outside but not before he throws away the bottle of Jack Dean still had in his hands.
When Dean wakes up a few hours later, he sees a blurry outline of someone just outside the sliding door, “Cas?” he breaths. Rubbing his eyes, he sees Sam cleaning up his backyard. Groaning, Dean kicks off the blanket and lazily puts back on his boots as he dizzyingly makes his way over to Sam.
“Sam?”
“Hey, Dean. I would say good morning but the sun just went down. How you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a car.”
Sam looks at him, wide-eyed, “umm..I just uh, wanted to apologize for my friend. He-”
“Did I just say I got hit by a car?”
“Yeah. Yeah, you did.”
Grabbing his forehead, he can’t believe himself, “Why the-why the fuck would I say that shit?”
“Hey. It’s just a figure of speech. Lots of people say that without thinking.”
Breathing fast, Sam immediately goes by Dean’s side so he doesn’t fall. Grabbing a hold of the door frame, he brushes Sam’s hand away, “I’m fine, Sam!”
Sighing, Sam awkwardly backs away. Looking at Sam, he could see his hurt in his eyes, “I’m sorry, Sam. I just need to lie down. Mind if I crash here tonight?”
A tiny corner of his mouth lifts, “Not at all. You know where things are. But uh, don’t take this the wrong way but I’m locking my liquor cabinet with a chain tonight.”
Not even cracking a smile, Dean simply nods as he gingerly walks back to the couch.
On Sunday, Dean has a huge hangover that even the dimmed ceiling lights hurt his head. Smelling the aroma of coffee doesn’t even get him off the couch. Instead, he buries himself further in the blankets as he hears footsteps approaching him.
“Dean?”
Groaning, Dean shakes his head under the blankets.
“Dean, wake up. I got you coffee.”
Dean can hear the faint thud of a coffee mug hitting the coffee table. Groaning again, he peeks out to see the steaming mug. Managing to stick his arm out from the blanket, he quickly but carefully grabs it. He can hear Sam quietly chuckle as he walks back to the kitchen.
“Hey, Dean!” Not getting a response, he yells a little louder from the stove, “Hey, Dean! I’ll only make sausage and bacon that I bought last night if I see you standing on hind legs!”
Still not hearing a response, he starts cooking. Knowing the aroma will eventually wake him up, he finally hears the soft padding of feet. Turning around, he sees Dean dragging the blanket like a low-hung tail behind him, sipping his coffee. Rubbing his eyes, Sam places a plate of food in front of him, “Eat.”
“Not a dog, Sam” as he takes a tears off a strip of bacon. He eats like he’s starving as Sam cooks more. Sitting across from Dean with his bowl of corn flakes, he pushes his spoon around as he tries not to meet Dean’s eyes. He waits until Dean finishes his coffee but not his plate of food.
“Dean?”
“Yeah.”
“How did you sleep?”
“Like a big-ol’ drunk baby.”
Sighing, Sam wants to ask but doesn’t at the same time, “Umm..”
“Just ask your question, Sam. I know your pussyfooting.”
Nodding, he blurts it out, “I know you’re hurting, Dean. I’m so sorry. I hated saying goodbye to my best friend but I just can’t bear to think how you felt. Burying your own husband.”
“Feel better, kid?”
“Sorry, Dean. I tried calling on the anniversary of his uh…of his death.”
“Turned my phone off.”
“I even went to your house.”
“Left. I spent hours up on that hill where he's at. Placed his favorite flowers and shit all around his grave. Like it’ll make it fuckin’ better. I cried for an hour straight.”
Taking a deep breath, he tries to down his coffee but finds the mug is empty. Looking around, he stares at the liquor cabinet.
“Dean? No. You’re just gonna call work a few days in a row or something.”
“And?”
“You don’t have enough days racked up yet.”
Nodding, he purses his lips as he stares down in his empty mug, “Can I at least brew some more coffee then?”
“Of course. I got your brand for you to stay awake today. Tomorrow’s Monday.”
“Yeah, yeah. I won’t call off and I’m not staying today.”
“Please, Dean. Please don’t go to a bar or something.”
“And I’m supposed to be the older one.”
When he opens up BlackRock AI Labs, he notices a sticky note on the locked room:
Janitorial Services:
Please do not touch anything on the tables.
Thank you
“Holy shit. I getta go in now?”
Turning the knob, it opens into a pristine yet cluttered room. In the far end, he notices a single chair with a helmet with tiny electrodes sticking out. Looking at it closely, he doesn’t touch it but simply takes everything in.
“Wow. This is awesome,” He slowly looks at everything closely while still cleaning. Looking at the tables the note said not to touch, it’s random papers strewn everywhere with scientific writing that Dean doesn’t comprehend.
“Smart asses.”
Tuesday, the little sticky note is still there so he doesn’t touch anything on the table. But on Wednesday, it’s gone. So when he goes in, there’s no more papers and he wipes the table clean. Today has been a pain though, literally. He rests for a while in the chair with the wires sticking out the helmet. Pushing the helmet to the side, he makes a nice groove in the seat as he places his helmet on his lap. Playing with the soft wires protruding from it, he gets curious and places it on his head. Feeling a slight shock, he winces.
“Ow, the fuck?”
He looks at the screen that simply reads “1:00” and starts counting down. Frowning, he stares at the countdown, wondering what will happen. When it gets to ten seconds left, he starts to freak out a tad. He hears a feminine voice say aloud, “Simulation. Start.”
“What?”
In a blink of an eye, he is transported to a dance hall. Noticing it’s the same dance hall that Castiel and he first met, he looks around. Not having the helmet on, wearing the same clothes he had on all those years ago, he looks around to where he first saw him. Blue eyes, ugly trenchcoat, sensible shoes, gorgeous jet black hair, he makes his way to him. Castiel places his hands in his pockets as he offers a tiny smile.
“Hi.”
“Hello.”
“Do you. Do you know me?”
“Of course I do, Dean. How can I not know my own husband?”
Dean lets out a shaky sigh as he wraps his arms around him tightly, never wanting to let go.
“I miss you, Cas. I love you. I love you so damn much, Cas.”
“I love you too,” Cas replies as he hugs him back just as tightly, he can feel the pressure being exerted on his body. When Cas backs away to look into his green eyes, he kisses him gently on his cheek. Dean kisses him back with desperation and tears in his eyes. As he shakily grabs Cas by his shoulders, he hears in a loud but feminine voice, “End simulation.”
When he opens his eyes, he gasps as he finds himself with the helmet on, on the chair, and his brain waves on the monitor, with glimpses of words such as, “Memory collection complete”, “date”, “husband”, “banquet hall”. When he takes off the helmet, the screen goes blank again. With tears in his eyes, his entire body shakes from what he just experienced. Crying, he puts back on the helmet as the countdown comes back online. In the middle of the countdown though it abruptly stops with that same voice coming through the tiny speakers in the headrest, “Simulation. Maxed.”
The countdown stops as the screen goes black. Taking off the helmet and placing it back on, the same thing happens over and over.
“No. Nononono, come on! Work! Please!”
After trying over six times, he slowly places the helmet back where he found it as he sadly takes his cleaning supplies and leaves the room.
The next day he comes back into the room and tries again with the helmet. Countdown begins, “Start simulation.”
“Yes!”
The simulation takes him back this time on the beach with Cas. Toes in the sand, ocean breeze in their hairs, it’s so serene. Holding his hand tight, Dean looks at Cas’ face, “I know this isn’t real but I wanna live in this moment forever. I don’t wanna leave this again, Cas. I love you.”
Smiling, Cas squeezes his hand, “what makes you think that this isn’t real? You know, you say the strangest things sometimes, but I guess it's all part of your school boy charm.”
“This is like some sort of matrix shit though. You’re just a simulation but I don’t care.”
Tilting his head to the side, Cas is confused, “What do you mean? I’m real, Dean.”
Sighing, Dean takes his face in his hands and pulls him in for a kiss. Smiling, Cas tugs him to follow him into the cold waves. As soon as he steps foot in the water, he wakes up gasping.
“End simulation.”
“So it’s always this fuckin’ quick?”
Looking angrily at the screen, he sees the timing.
Run Time: 180 minutes
“What the fuck? It feels like ten minutes!”
Trying on the helmet, it says it’s maxed like yesterday, “Hmm. Okay, so you’re a one night stander, huh, gal? Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Every day he gets to Castiel, it’s a different setting; everything is different actually. Everything except Castiel; he’s always the same. Same clothes he was wearing wherever they are at, same voice, same loving feeling Dean gets when he sees him again. His eyes are always filled with love and admiration in these simulations. He doesn’t want to think what will happen when or if the scientists choose to close this room up once again. So he lives in the moments when he can see Castiel again. It’s a bittersweet feeling, but it’s better than misery.
Dean is losing his grip on reality by going more and more into the digital zone, almost like an addict. When Sam starts to notice his change in personality, he finally asks.
“So uh, when do we meet him?”
“What?”
“The new guy in your life. When do we meet him?”
“What makes you think that?”
“Look at you; you’re sober all the time, you genuinely smile and laugh, it’s like Ca- it’s like you’re happy again.”
Smirking, Dean scoffs while he sips on some bottled water.
“What? A guy simply can’t be happy?”
“So then what’s going on? What’s new with Mr. Dean Winchester?”
Chuckling, he finally tells Sam about the new AI his company has built and what he’s been using it for. Sam is surprised that Dean does not see the damage it can easily do on his psyche.
“And you’re…”
“And I’m what? Happy? Fuck yeah I am. I getta see Cas again, getta hold him, sometimes we even have sex and it’s incredible. We say I love you, I getta touch him-”
“Dean, this just sounds like you're moving backwards.”
“No it doesn't, how?”
“Instead of dealing with your loss, you’re… you’re dating a ghost that has no real future. This is only an illusion of a perfect relationship.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Think, Dean. Your relationship with Cas wasn't a perfect one. You guys fought constantly, in fact you were fighting during your last anniversary, remember?”
Dean’s confused how Sam seems to be getting angry instead of happy for him, “What are you talking about? I get Cas back, man. It’s awesome! Knowing he’s-”
“He’s there.”
“Well, yeah.”
“Exactly. He will always be there. And that’s just like I’ve been saying, Dean. It’s a simulation; this machine is a crutch and you will never be able to fully move on if you keep using it. Is this why you told your job you can work weekends now? So you can use the damn machine?”
“Nah, it’s because I love to work,” Dean sarcastically says as he laughs a little, “Come on, Sam. I know it’s not really Cas. He doesn’t even get remotely mad in the simulation.”
“And that’s okay with you? To never fight? That’s not even life; everybody fights.”
“I don’t like where you’re going with this shit, Sammy.”
“Dean, listen to me. Please. If you keep doing this, building up this fantasy world with you and Cas, that’s all you’ll live for. Is a fantasy, a life that you could never live in this world. What happens- what happens if BlackRock decides to shut down this project? What will you do?”
“Dude. This project is barely starting up. They’ve been putting it to tests for a couple of months now. I’ve been looking at the stats they carelessly leave after hours now.”
Wiping his hand down his face, Sam releases a big sigh, “Dean. He is not real. Cas? The real Cas? He’s dead and buried on that hill! The hill you haven’t even visited in the last six months! You know how I know that? Because I took flowers up there on his birthday and you didn’t because you’re too damn busy living in your matrix world!”
“I’m not gonna stand here and let you talk shit about my Cas!”
“And I’m tired of trying to tell you it’s not Cas ! It’s nothing but fuckin’ memories, Dean! Don’t you realize that this is your lotus fruit?”
“My what?
“Lotus fruit. It’s an addictive Greek mythical food that made people who ate it, waste the rest of their lives. When you wake up in that chair, what do you do, huh? You immediately miss him, don’t you? You can’t have him, you can’t hold him, you can’t kiss him. Not really, not anymore.”
Dean grabs his keys and slams Sam’s door as he heads to his Impala.
The next night he goes into the AI Lab to place the helmet on as he leans back while the countdown does her thing.
“Start simulation.”
His memory is a tough one though that he is thrown in. He looks around to notice they’re in a fancy hotel suite Cas had chosen for their anniversary; their last anniversary.
“Seriously?”
“What’s the matter, Dean? I thought you wanted to take a bath first.”
“No, no, it’s not that. It’s just- hey, Cas?”
“Yes, Dean?”
“You know, this is our fourth anniversary.”
“I know that, Dean.”
“Yeah and we have a dinner reservation, right?”
“Yes and if we don’t leave right now, we will not make it. Are you ready to go?”
Frowning at him, Dean looks up at the ceiling, “This isn’t how it went”, he looks back at Cas who is standing there, patiently waiting for him.
“We never made the dinner date because we fought. I wanted room service, you wanted to make me wear that damn suit and I said no. We fought, we screamed at each other. We went to bed angry, back to back. Fight me, Cas.”
“What is that, Dean?”
“I said fight me. Come on! Yell at me for being an asshole! Yell at me for not wearing that suit! Fight me, Cas!”
Cas simply stands there waiting for Dean to do something. So he does. Dean pushes him hard in the chest, making him stumble back but not fall. Still not showing emotion, Cas cocks his head to the side, “Why are you pushing me, Dean?”
“Fight me!”
“I do not fight. I love you. You want to be happy. I can make that happen, Dean. Let’s be happy together. This is our anniversary and I love you. I will always love you, Dean. I’ll always be here for you.”
Crying, Dean falls on his knees, knowing what he must do. After shaky breaths, he finally stands up to see Cas still just standing there stoically.
“Cas.”
“Yes, Dean?”
“Sammy was right. I can’t do this anymore. I love you, Cas. I’ll always love you, Sunshine.”
“I love you too, Dean.”
He tightly hugs Cas as he combs his fingers in his hair, they softly kiss as Dean looks into those gorgeous blue eyes and smiles. Castiel smiles back as Dean looks up with the teardrop in his eye and whispers, “End simulation.”
When he wakes up in the chair, his cheeks are wet from tears and more rushing out. Crying, he sits there a bit longer as he hugs the helmet. Taking one final breath, he gently puts the helmet back and walks out the door, locking it behind him.