Chapter Text
Dean lay in bed, blissfully sleeping next to his boyfriend, Castiel. The angel was awake, as always, but lay next to Dean all the same, brushing a gentle hand through his hair. He spent nearly every night like this now, watching over the hunter and doing his best to keep his frequent nightmares away.
It had taken years to get to this point in their relationship - nearly a decade. Just two years ago Dean was still insisting that he was straight, that Cas was just his friend, despite his steadily growing feelings for the angel being glaringly obvious. Cas had long accepted that Dean would never come to realize it, but after a hunt had left them both on the brink of death, confessions had come out, and after a long time of pretending it didn’t happen, avoiding each other, and finally talking about it, Dean and Cas had finally gotten together.
For the last six beautiful months, all of Castiel’s dreams have been coming true, every single day in a new, wonderful way. From awkward first dates to heated make out sessions to moments like this - perfect, quiet, domestic bliss - Cas found himself falling more and more in love every second of every day.
Dean let out a small, sleepy grumble and turned onto his back, blinking his eyes open as he woke up. He scowled at the invisible forces that had awoken him (it certainly hadn’t been Cas, who’d been sitting still as a rock for hours, careful not to disturb his love) before his eyes fell on his boyfriend, and his entire expression softened.
“Morning.” Dean’s voice was thick with grogginess. Cas would be lying if he said it wasn’t somehow even more attractive than his usual timbre. “What time is it?”
“It is almost eight.” Cas didn’t let up on combing his fingers through the messy strands of Dean’s hair. “How did you sleep?”
Dean hummed. “Good enough. No dreams.”
“No dreams is a good thing,” Cas decided, kissing Dean’s forehead. The hunter turned slightly pink, still not completely used to such casual affection.
“Uh… yeah.” He grunted, moving into a sitting position, despite Cas’s protests. “Is that your doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“D’you, you know, magic the nightmares away?”
Cas frowned. “No, I do not use my grace to prevent your nightmares. I do not believe that is within my capability anymore. As you know, my power has been weakened much.”
“Oh.” Dean frowned. “Weird. They’re just never as bad around you. I thought maybe you were doing something.”
“No.” Cas rubbed Dean’s back. “At least, it is not my grace that is doing anything.”
Dean nodded, then stood up, groaning as he stretched out his sore limbs. “Well, I’m starving. Let’s get breakfast.”
Cas nodded, a little disappointed at the lack of touch. He followed his boyfriend into the kitchen, sitting at the table as Dean bustled around, cooking up some pancakes. After he finished up, he loaded up his own plate with sugar and syrup, and Cas’s with honey and fruit. He sat next to Cas, and as he started to eat, he slipped his hand into the angel’s, his fingers loosely wrapping around Cas’s.
Castiel smiled at Dean, who focused on his food as he asked, “Where’s Sammy?”
“I believe he fell asleep in the library.” Cas looked down at his own food. He didn’t technically need to eat, but he could still taste now, and sometimes he just enjoyed the act of it. “Charlie called asking for help on the hunt.”
“Yeah? How’s that going?”
“Well, from the sounds of it. Sam believes they are hunting a rougarou. Jack and Charlie appear to be handling themselves well.”
“That’s good.” Dean finished off his plate and stood up, squeezing Cas’s hand before letting it go. “I better go wake him up, though.” Cas nodded, grabbing the plates and putting them in the sink before following Dean into the library.
Sam was, as predicted, asleep at the desk, his cheek sticking to the open pages of a book. He grunted when Dean shook him awake. “Whaizzit?”
“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Dean teased. He patted Sam’s back as he sat up, groaning. “How long were you up until?”
“I dunno.” Sam rubbed his eyes. “Jack and Charlie needed help. And then Eileen FaceTimed me and we kinda lost track of time…”
“Sap.” Dean ruffled his brother’s hair. “Go to bed.”
“No, ‘m fine.” Sam yawned. “I just need some coffee.”
“Absolutely not, this is the third night in a row you’ve fallen asleep here. Soon you’re gonna forget what being in a bed feels like. C’mon.” Dean grabbed his brother’s arm and hauled him to his feet, dragging a half-resistant Sam to his bedroom down the hall. Cas hovered, staying in the doorway as Dean all but pushed Sam onto the bed, who let out a weak protest but didn’t fight as Dean pulled the covers over him, tucking him in like a child.
Sam frowned at Dean. “You’d better wake me up before noon.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Dean rolled his eyes. “You need your perfect cicada rhythm or whatever.”
“Circadian rhythm,” Sam muttered. “It's a real thing.”
“I’m sure it is. Go to sleep.” Dean made a big deal over fixing the blankets, and Sam rolled his eyes.
“‘M not a child, Dean.” He turned away, getting comfortable. “Go away so I can sleep.” Dean just chuckled and left, Cas trailing behind him.
They went back into the library, and as Dean began to put away Sam’s things, Cas came up behind him, wrapping his arms around the hunter. Dean grunted slightly in surprise, and let out a chuckle as Cas began to gently press kisses to his shoulder. “What’cha doing there, Cas?”
“Nothing.” Cas closed his eyes, for a moment just enjoying the warmth and smell of his boyfriend. “I have been thinking.”
“Oh? About what?”
One of Cas’s hands absently disappeared under Dean’s shirt, just feeling the warmth of his skin. “I believe I want to marry.”
Dean let out a strangled sound of surprise, and dropped the book he was holding on his foot. He grunted, pulling away from Cas to turn and look at him. “What?”
Cas tilted his head. “I want to marry you,” he repeated. “Marriage is a thing couples do when they wish to take their relationship further. Correct?”
“I… yeah, I know what marriage is, Cas.” Dean was bright red in the face, and Cas didn’t understand why. “But… shit, man, you can’t just throw that at me. I mean, we’ve only been together for…”
“Six months.” Cas nodded. “But we have known each other for a decade. I do not see why we should wait any further.”
Dean just shook his head. “Jesus, Cas. You don’t just…”
“Do you not want to marry me?”
“I… no, I do. Of course I do.” Dean looked away. “I just… I never really thought about that. As like, a possibility that it’d really happen.”
“Why not? We are a couple. Couples marry. It is a sign of their love.”
“Yeah, I mean… I guess…” Dean hesitated, thinking. “You know, there’s usually a system to this whole thing. You gotta buy a ring, and plan out the perfect timing, and ask on one knee.” He snorted. “Kinda cheesy, to be honest. But seriously, Cas. You don’t just ask on a random Tuesday morning.”
“I see.” Cas thought this over. “Would you like me to buy you a ring?”
“I…” Dean considered, then shook his head. “No. You know what?” He pulled Cas close, kissing him, soft at first, then hard. Cas reciprocated, grabbing onto Dean’s shirt for balance as he kissed back. When they pulled away, Dean breathed against his lips, “I’d love to marry you.”
Cas smiled softly, stepping back. “When shall we do it?”
Dean chuckled. “Probably not for a while, bud. I mean… it depends on what kind of a wedding you want. We can’t exactly get legally married, for one thing.”
Cas frowned. “Why not?”
“Well, for one thing, you technically don’t exist. Unless I were to marry Jimmy. Which I don’t think his wife would appreciate. And also, I’m legally dead like, three times over.”
“Oh, yes. That does make things difficult.”
Dean nodded. “But we can still do a ceremony. Although I don’t want anything ridiculously big.”
“This is a lot more to think about than I expected.”
Dean chuckled. “You have no idea. Look, we don’t have to think about this all right now. You just technically proposed to me. Technically we’re engaged now. Let’s just bask in that for a while.”
Cas nodded, stepping closer to Dean to kiss him once again. “Perhaps you are right.”
“I’m always right.” Dean wrapped an arm around Cas, pulling him closer, but he was suddenly interrupted by a frantic rapping on the bunker door. Dean pulled back, frowning. “Who the hell…”
Cas sighed heavily. “I shall get it.”
“No, I got it.” Dean squeezed his shoulder. “It’s probably just Eileen or Bobby or something.” He grinned at Cas before going over to the door, grabbing a pistol from the table on his way over, just in case.
When he opened the door, however, it wasn’t Eileen or Bobby or even some lost stranger. As far as Dean could tell, it wasn’t a threat, either. Dean froze at the sight of the man, and he blinked, as if expecting to see him magically disappear at any second.
But he didn’t.
John Winchester stood in the doorway, looking haggard and sporting several injuries, wearing a thick jacket over a hospital gown. Besides the coat, he looked exactly the same as the last time he had seen his father.
He looked exactly as he had the day that he had died, over fifteen years ago.