Chapter Text
“You nervous?”
“No.”
“Cas…”
“Yes. I am very nervous, Dean, and you are not helping.”
“Sorry.”
Silence.
“You shouldn’t be nervous, Cas. You’ll get the job. They won’t be able to resist you.”
“You have too much faith in me.”
“I know you well enough to put all of my faith in you, sweetheart. Trust me, you’ll get it.”
“You will be sorely disappointed when I don’t.”
“Cas…”
“Shut up and just hold my hand.”
________________________________
Everything goes still as Sam chokes on his own blood.
“No!” Dean screams, panic rising in his throat as his whole world shatters right in front of him.
The demon laughs and pushes Sam over, heading towards them with an evil smile on her face, Sam’s blood dripping from the edge of the blade. All Dean can do is watch as Sam clutches at his throat, the blood gushing out from between his fingers as he shakes and convulses on the asphalt.
“You bitch!” Gabriel yells, anger and grief present on his face. An angel blade appears in his hand as he and the demon meet in the middle, beginning to swipe at each other with their respective knives.
Cas says something Dean doesn’t hear and yanks on Dean’s shirt roughly, and then they’re running towards Sam.
Sam. Shit.
Nothing feels real as Dean falls to his knees next to Sam’s still body, watching as Cas grabs Sam’s face, checking his pulse, pulling his shaking fingers away and clutching Dean’s wrist.
“Dean…” Cas whispers.
Dean stares for a moment at his brother- fuck, that’s his beautiful baby brother lying there, unmoving- before standing abruptly and turning towards where Gabriel and the demon are dueling, circling each other like predators, the demon unaware that she is now the prey. “You sick son a bitch!” He yells, his voice breaking and his anger snapping him into action.
The demon side sweeps Gabriel and he falls to his side, holding up his blade in defense, but his vessel is too weak and delicate to do much to prevent the assault. The demon’s own knife is about to swing down upon him, but Dean launches himself at her and they go tumbling to the ground.
“Get the fuck off me!” she shrieks, clawing at Dean’s back. “You idiotic moron!”
Dean ignores her and tries not to yell at the pain growing from where she rips her nails into his back, as he pushes her down into submission. He finally wrenches the knife from her hand and before she can say another word, he’s thrusting it into her heart.
With a wretched scream, the demon shakes and burns bright as her insides light up, her face frozen in horror and surprise. The corpse falls back, dead and empty, but Dean pulls out the blade just to stab it back in. He’s barely aware of Cas yelling his name and Gabriel gripping his shoulder as he just keeps digging deeper and deeper into this sudden despair that has washed over him.
Shit, he almost feels like he has the Mark again.
It couldn’t last for long, could it? A dark part of his brain whispers menacingly. This happiness… Sam… Even Cas will be gone someday, and you’ll be left alone. Again.
He yells in rage and feels blood spraying on his face, wet and warm. Too familiar.
Then Cas is prying him off of the body, saying something in his ear, but Dean doesn’t hear. It sounds like the world has gone quiet from his agony, like he is forever numb and even Cas’ hands on him can’t bring him back to the present.
“Dean, you have to listen to Gabriel,” Cas pleads, grabbing his face and looking right into his eyes. “Look. Dean. You have to look.”
Cas turns him towards Sam, but Dean squeezes his eyes shut. “I- I can’t. I can’t look at him, Cas, I can’t, how-”
“Open your eyes,” Cas whispers desperately, wrapping his arms around Dean’s shoulder as he presses his chest up against his back and pressing his lips to the nape of Dean’s neck. “Dean, look. Everything is okay. Everything’s fine.”
Dean sobs, because he can’t even believe him. He digs his head into Cas’ chest and tries not to freak out. He shouldn’t be this broken, this emotional. But he is and God, he can’t freaking get through this. How can he do this without his little brother, without Cas…
“Dean!”
He gasps and jumps, almost hitting Cas in the face with his arm as he hears Sam’s voice.
Dean looks up into Sam’s face and shakes in Cas’ arms, so in disbelief that he barely registers the small and reassuring smile on his brother’s face.
Blood is thick on the front of Sam’s shirt and his neck, but he’s smiling. Actually smiling. What the f-
“Dean, hey,” Sam says gently, crouching down. “I’m alright, man. Gabriel healed me. I’m okay.”
“You- I don’t-” Dean scrabbles for words and he’s so freaking confused, because a minute ago Sam was gone, forever lost from him and he can’t do it, he can’t believe this and…
“Dean!” Cas yells as Dean shoots up and attacks Sam- who isn’t Sam, it can’t be- cursing and yelling jumbled sentences that don’t even make sense.
“Shit, Dean!” Sam yells, blocking his fists and rolling them over until he’s on top. “It’s me! I swear! Calm down!”
“Get the hell off me, you monster!” Dean yells. “Cas, dammit, help! Shit, baby, you can’t- you have to-”
“Gabriel-” Cas begs, voice cracking.
“I’m on it, baby bro.”
Suddenly, Gabriel is looming over them, a skinny little boy, his hand reaching towards Dean’s face. “Hey, hey, don’t you fucking dare!” Dean growls, shaking, trying to shrink away. “Cas, shit, Cas…”
Warm fingers brush over the wrinkles in his forehead and he makes a strangled noise as a warm feeling washes through him, diminishing the rage inside of him and causing him to grow sleepy.
“Cas…”
Then he’s slipping away.
________________________________________
“Ah!” Cas screams, giggling like a psychopath as Sam splashes cold ocean water all over him using his ginormous hands, and it doesn’t help that he towers a couple feet above. “That’s an unfair advantage!”
Sam grins and grapples for Cas’ arm, but he’s like a snake, zipping through the water and trying to get far away as possible.
Dean watches from the shore as he soaks up the sun, laughing at his outstanding boyfriend and his idiot of a brother. He loves these guys so much, so freaking much, and being out here under the warm sun and in front of the deep blue waters, having fun with each other and messing around is all Dean can ask for.
He watches as Cas tries to run away, but Sam tackles him and they disappear under the water. Dean takes a sip of his beer and waits for them to ascend.
“So this is what you dream about, huh?”
Dean curses and spills beer all over himself, whipping his head around to stare at the newcomer next to him.
“What the hell are you doing here?” He groans, tearing off his beer-soaked shirt and glaring at the demon.
Crowley doesn’t answer. He stares out at the ocean towards Sam and Cas, smiling strangely. He’s wearing a ridiculous pair of expensive looking sunglasses, a Hawaiian shirt covered in pink flamingos and flowers, a pair of shorts and flip flops.
And to Dean, it’s pretty strange, seeing the freaking King of Hell sitting next to him on a Barbie beach towel, sipping on some sort of alcoholic beverage like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“No, really, what the hell man,” Dean says, growing more and more annoyed by the second.
Crowley sighs and turns his head towards Dean, pushing his shades to the edge of his nose and peering over them at him. “Darling, you do realize that we are inside your pretty little head, right?”
Dean frowns. He looks back over at Sam and Cas, who have reappeared, then around him and he finally realizes that the only thing around him is the ocean and sand. Miles of sand behind him and miles of ocean in front of him.
A dream…
Of course. That makes sense, actually, considering Dean is somehow wearing another t-shirt, a clean one this time, the one bunched up in his hand suddenly gone with a simple thought.
“Huh,” Dean says, licking his lips and cocking his head to the side.
With a smirk, Crowley leans back on his elbows and tips his chin up towards the counterfeit sun. Dean finally realizes that it’s not actually warm out and he can’t really smell the salt in the air. It’s more of a faint candy scented type of dream and then he remembers.
“Dammit,” he groans, rubbing his eyes and trying not to cringe.
“We have to talk,” Crowley says.
“Yeah? About what exactly?” Dean says sharply, throwing his empty beer bottle somewhere behind him.
“Hey, don’t get irritated with me, squirrel!” Crowley sits back up and raises his hands in defense. “I would just like to make an itty bitty proposal.”
Dean sighs and throws himself back on his towel, throwing his forearm over his eyes in exasperation. “And what’s that, Crowley? How you’d like to screw us over again? Help us bring in another big bad that we have to take care of all by ourselves because you’re a coward?”
“For your information,” Crowley spats, voice getting all high and pitchy like it does when he’s getting defensive, “I saved your ass not even a two months ago! You should be thanking me.”
Dean turns his head to look at him with the highest scrutiny, and scoffs. “Um, no.”
“You-”
“I’m not in the mood, Crowley,” Dean cuts him off, glaring. “I just don’t have the capability to deal with your crap today.”
Crowley snaps his mouth shut and stares at the ocean. Dean goes back to resting and listening to dream Cas and Sam laugh.
“I would like to offer you something in return for my mother’s demise,” Crowley gets out quickly before Dean can say anything.
Dean pops open an eye and holds his breath. “After the utter hell she has put me through, she deserves to die,” Crowley continues, voice growing darker. “Maybe if you and Moose-”
“Can’t we just talk about this another day?” Dean grumbles, cutting him off. Again. “Right now, I’m having a pretty damn good dream and when I wake up, I’ll probably be pissed at everyone and I don’t plan on starting now.”
Crowley sighs again. “Fine.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
They sit in silence as Dean tries to imagine the sound of the waves crashing against the beach and seagulls, cooing or cawing or whatever they do, circling above him.
“I do believe it is time to rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” Crowley suddenly says, glancing around and giving Dean and unexplainable grin.
Dean sighs and then the dream fades, along with the ocean, his family and the King of Hell.
________________________________________
Dean blinks awake slowly, his limbs feeling sated and mind surprisingly refreshed. He rolls over and nuzzles into the pillows, wrapping the blankets tight around himself and deliberately trying not to think of anything that could ruin his mood.
It’s sort of strange how freaking good he feels right now. Well-rested, sort of fuzzy, and like he wants to go rolling around in a field of daisies and rainbows and cute little puppies that will lick his face and hands and give him cookies that they made in their mini easy bake ovens…
“Dean?”
His eyes open slowly, steadily, and he sort of expects to suddenly burst out in a fit of maddening pain and agony, but he feels great. Awesome, even.
And Dean definitely feels a helluva lot better looking up and seeing Cas sitting next to him, his hair a mess and a book balanced in one hand while the other touches Dean’s face tentatively.
“Hey,” Dean says groggily, smiling sleepily and sliding closer to Cas and his warmth.
Cas scoots down the bed until he’s on his side, running his fingers up and down Dean’s arm. “Are you feeling okay?” He asks softly.
“I feel awesome,” Dean says, closing his eyes again and tucking his head under Cas’ chin and breathing in his fresh and familiar scent. “Even better with you here.”
Cas hums appreciatively. They lay in the quiet of the dim room for a moment, listening to each other’s breaths, Dean’s nose snug against Cas’ collarbone. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about what happened back there,” he whispers innocently.
Cas laughs silently, Dean feeling it against his chest, and tousles Dean’s hair. “I didn’t think so.”
“Ha.” Dean sighs and kisses Cas’ clavicle, running a hand under his t-shirt and feeling the smooth skin underneath. “I can’t decide whether to kick your ass or kiss you until you suffocate,” Dean murmurs.
“I hope that you’re kidding.”
Dean smiles and rolls Cas onto his back, clambering on top of him and latching onto his neck with his teeth, drawing a hiss out of the other man’s lips. “You know I am, sweetheart.” He rises above Cas, studying his messy hair and the stubble dotting his jaw. “Maybe.”
“You’re insufferable,” Cas groans, cupping his cheek and rolling his eyes lovingly. He then yanks Dean down and kisses him hungrily, moaning lightly and gripping the back of Dean’s thigh. “I need you,” Cas breathes into his mouth, already pushing Dean’s shirt up and rolling them over to where he’s on top.
“Yeah, okay,” Dean answers between the union of their lips, the heat rolling in the pit of his stomach already beginning to coil tight inside of him.
They strip each other of their clothes, kissing heavily and Cas gasping beautifully, eliciting words of pure wont from Dean’s throat, deep throated moans, things that Dean didn’t even believe he was capable of. It’s different and new, but after all they’ve done so far, it’s almost humorous.
They giggle as Dean rolls on the condom, his fingers fumbling and his neck hurting from straining to see, and Cas kisses the little pouch of fat on his tummy, telling him how much he loves it before gripping him in his hand.
Cas snorts when Dean bangs his head on the headboard in shock and Dean kisses him heavily, laughing and moaning.
They spend another few minutes making out before Dean is on his back and Cas is on top of him, kissing him soft now, whispering his name and making exquisite noises that drive Dean crazy as he throws his head back on the pillows.
Shit, Cas looks so beautiful like this. Lean stomach, fluttering eyelashes, a hand pulling at his own hair… Dean finishes way quicker than he would have liked, but he doesn’t mind. It means getting to watch Cas without too many distractions, gripping his hips and anchoring him down.
When Cas finally collapses on top of him, sweaty and breathing hard, Dean doesn’t let him pull away. It’s a little stuffy and uncomfortable, but he can’t find it in himself to care. Until…
“Wait, where the hell are we?”
Cas lifts up his head slowly, still grasping for air, and glances around. “Oh. We are in a motel.”
“Honey, I obviously realize that,” Dean says, narrowing his eyes and snorting.
Cas grins and kisses Dean’s tattoo, resting his cheek on his chest. “Sam drove us all here after what occurred earlier. They are a few rooms away.”
Dean nods and then remembers what happened before Gabriel zapped him unconscious… Sam, dead and bloody, that demon bitch standing over him with a haunting grin.
He squeezes his eyes shut and involuntarily shudders, resting his hand on Cas’ back and trying to not think of anything except this moment. No use ruining a perfectly good night… Or day. Whatever time it is.
“Hey.” Cas props himself up on Dean’s chest with his elbow, peering down at him with concern. “Is everything okay?”
He runs his fingertips over Dean’s face soothingly, but Dean smiles, smoothing a hand up Cas’ back to his shoulder, sculpting it over Cas’ bicep. “Yeah, everything’s perfect.”
“Don’t lie to me, Dean Winchester,” Cas says sternly, booping him on the nose with his forefinger. “I can see it in those pretty eyes of yours.”
Dean snorts and presses the left side of his face to the pillow beneath him. “I had a visit from Crowley when I was out,” he admits.
Immediately, Cas freezes up. “What did he say,” he asks quietly.
“Just wanted us to go on a freaking suicide mission to kill his mother, is all.” Dean rubs his forehead as Cas nudges Dean’s legs open to fit more comfortably. “We can never get a freaking break…”
“Wait, you’re not planning on going are you?” Cas asks, voice suddenly less sated and more business-like.
Dean opens his eyes to see Cas’ glare, full and deadly. “Hey, hey, calm down, hon. We haven’t even gotten all the details yet…”
“Dean…”
Dean scoots up into a sitting position and runs a hand through his hair, closing his eyes. “Can we just not argue about this now? I just want to be with you for a while and worry about everything else later.”
Cas looks up at him for a second before nodding. “Of course.”
“Good. Cool. Well, what do you- Oh, Cas!” Dean is cut off by Cas sliding down his body and doing a few things that prevent both of them from saying anything, really.
“I guess we’ll, um, oh shit, yeah, we’ll do this.”