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Castiel wasn’t expecting to face the consequences of his actions.
Okay, so yes, defying death and god and timeless entities was kind of the Winchester way. They’d spent about fifteen years at that point dying and coming back to life in various forms, and so had most everyone in their life – Cas more than most. How many times had he died and been brought back now? He’d lost count.
But going to the Empty felt… different. There was a sense of finality in that moment that had made him dead sure that he wouldn’t be coming back from this one. That he’d confess, shove Dean out of the way, and then there’d be nothing. Forever. And even if he did come back… well what were the chances he’d still have Dean in his life the way he’d had him before?
So he’d shoved Dean out of the way, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and smiled as the empty swallowed him whole.
And then he was opening his eyes in Heaven.
At first he just found himself just blinking in the near blinding sunlight, wincing at the sudden onslaught of stimuli. He didn’t remember the Empty, not this time, but apparently adjusting to the sudden absence of absence took a minute.
Once everything became a bit less overwhelming, he found himself staring at the face of-
“Jack?”
“Hello Castiel.”
Cas squinted at him, his brow furrowing. Jack seemed… different. More sure of himself, for one. And the aura of power that surrounded him was much more intense than when he’d last left him.
“What happened to you?”
“It’s a long story, but I’m God now! How are you?”
“I’m…” Castiel’s frown deepened. “What do you mean you’re God?”
“Well, after the ritual that was supposed to help me kill Chuck went wrong, the side-effects let me absorb power from everything around me. And then when Sam and Dean beat up Chuck-”
“When they what?”
“Beat up Chuck! Like I said, it’s a long story. But I absorbed his power, and now I’m what he used to be. But… better. Hopefully. That’s the plan, at least.”
“And Sam and Dean are…?”
“Safe. For now.”
Castiel nodded, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
“Good.”
“I know you probably want to go back to them soon, but-”
“No!” The word leaped from his tongue before he could even properly process his decision, and he cleared his throat, his face reddening slightly. “I mean… Dean might not want to see me right now.”
“Why would that be?”
Castiel paused. “He… didn’t tell you?”
“He told us that you sacrificed yourself. That you had your moment of true happiness, that the empty came and got you and Billy, and that he didn’t want to talk about it beyond that.”
“Oh.”
“But I was going to ask you to rebuild Heaven! You know, if you didn’t want to go back quite yet.”
“Yes, yes that sounds… ideal.”
“Great, because I had some ideas that I wanted your thoughts on…”
Days passed, then weeks, then a few months. He told himself that rebuilding Heaven took time, and that he was just doing his due diligence in making sure it was up and running properly. After all, the realm had pretty much been held together with heavenly duct tape and angelic willpower, and they practically had to rebuild it from the ground up. And then there were the souls that they had to jailbreak from Hell: victims of demon deals, mainly, but also some who were trapped there unfairly, or sinners who’d been sent down thanks to rules that Heaven had since moved past enforcing. There was a waiting list a mile long for souls that Jack was considering sparing after they’d done their time, like a one-man heavenly parole board.
Cas was a busy being, which meant that he hadn’t really had the chance to go down to Earth yet. That was all. He was busy, and not at all avoiding Dean Winchester.
It wasn’t like it was eating him alive inside, knowing that when he came back things would be… different. That Dean would hold him at arm’s length for a while, tell him it was okay, they could still be friends. That he was like a brother to him. Or that maybe he’d be mad, yell at him, tell him it was a stupid move and that they could’ve found another way even though they both knew that wasn’t true. Or maybe it would be something new, strange, and unpredictable. But no matter how it went, things would change.
He wasn’t terrified of any of that at all. Not at all.
And then he got word that Dean was dead.
Dean Winchester, the man he’d totally not been avoiding, was dead.
But more importantly: he was in heaven.
He got the word from angel radio first. Dean’s death was announced with all the fanfare that accompanied him being raised from perdition. He did have somewhat of a legendary status in the celestial world, even with all the turnover that had happened.
It stood to reason that pretty much the second Dean got into heaven, he’d find out that Cas was also there. And possibly, that Cas had been there for a while.
Which meant that avoiding Dean was no longer an option.
How to stop avoiding him was an entirely different matter.
His first thought was to show up on Bobby’s porch.
“Just missed him,” Bobby had stated, not even bothering to turn to look to see who’d turned up just out of his line of sight. “Took the impala out for a drive. Didn’t mention that you were the one who insisted he get his car up here, seemed like something you should tell him.” He took a swig of his beer. “Among other things.”
“I’m… working on it.”
“Like hell you are, you’ve been avoiding that boy for however long it’s been since you got yanked back into heaven.”
“Well I’m working on it now,” Castiel replied somewhat shortly.
And then he didn’t move.
He just stood there, staring at the road Dean had apparently driven off on, trying to figure out if he was supposed to go after him.
“Well?”
“I don’t think I’ve thought this through enough. Maybe I’ll-”
“What, avoid him even longer? Break that boy’s heart more than it’s already been broke?”
Castiel shifted a bit uncomfortably. “You know about that?”
“Well not all of it, but it’s been pretty damn obvious.”
“Right.”
There was a long silence that he suspected was only awkward for him. Bobby seemed fairly nonplussed by it.
“Well?”
“I don’t know what to say. I was hoping you’d be able to help.”
“Well, I’ve never been very good with words. Or feelings. Or anything, really.”
“But you know Dean. Maybe better than anyone who isn’t Sam.”
“Well with the way time works here now, I’m sure he’ll be here soon enough.”
“Which means I don’t have much time to figure this out before someone tells Dean I’m here.”
“I already did. Didn’t know it was a secret.”
Great.
Just… great.
Castiel took in a shaky breath. “Well. I guess that means I have to be ready for when he…”
“What, calls you up? Yeah, I give that about… whatever an hour is up here.”
Castiel’s jaw twitched as he tried to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do. He’d been hoping Bobby would have some kind of insight, but so far? Nothing.
“If you want my opinion? You should just go talk to the boy. He’s not gonna bite.”
“I will… consider it.”
“Well consider it quick, you probably don’t got long.”
A while later and he was sitting unseen in the afternoon that was no longer an eternal, static Tuesday, but still familiar enough to be comforting, when he heard Dean’s voice echoing in his head.
Hey Cas. I know you can hear me. Bobby said you’re back, and… Look, man, I don’t know why you’re avoiding me. Or why you haven’t called, or texted, or hell, just shown up at the bunker. I would’ve taken just about anything. But if you don’t get your feathery ass to… wherever the hell this is, the woods somewhere? I dunno, just find me, or I’ll find you. And that’s a threat. Amen.
Okay, so. Not the friendliest way to be invited back into Dean’s life. But at least he knew he wanted to talk to him, so that was… something, he supposed.
He took one last deep breath, and then he was standing in front of Dean, who was leaning on the hood of the Impala with his eyes closed. When he opened them, he stumbled a bit at the sight of Castiel.
“Hello, Dean.”
“Cas. You’re alive. Holy shit, you’re alive.”
“Yes, I surmised from your prayer that you knew that much.”
A mixture of unreadable expressions flitted across Dean’s face in quick waves. “How long have you been alive? I mean, I know time moves different here – Sammy’s already here and he said he died in like his eighties or something – but Bobby said you were back by the time I got here. So what the hell man?”
“I… Suppose for you it’s been a few months.”
It was as if a storm cloud had crossed in front of Dean’s face.
“Cas. You’re telling me you’ve been back for months? And you didn’t think to show up, or call, or, fuck, just give me some kind of sign that you weren’t in turbo hell?”
“I…”
“Cas, I mourned you! Do you know how much time I spent trying to research ways to get you back? How much time I spent pouring over a bunch of old-ass lore books, trying to translate a bunch of bullshit Latin and figure out if there was any kind of way to pry your ass out of the Empty? How long it took me to accept that you weren’t coming back? That you were really, truly gone this time?”
“Dean-”
“And you know what? I thought, you know, maybe this was how it was always supposed to end. Castiel I died, and I told Sammy to let me go, and you know why? Because I figured, you know, you were dead, for good this time. And I was dead for years before my back hit that piece of rebar. At least Sammy stood a chance of living some normal, apple pie life. It just had to end. And maybe this was how it always was supposed to end.”
“Dean, if I’d known you were going to die-”
“What, you would’ve come down and healed me? Well that ship’s sailed, Cas. A lot of ships have, now. Because you… You didn’t come back.” Dean choked on his words and blinked back tears, and Cas couldn’t tell if they were remorseful, mournful, or angry. Maybe a mix of all of them.
“...I’m sorry. I just thought…” Castiel paused, trying to find the words, but everything he’d planned to say died in his throat. “I’m sorry.”
“You thought what, Cas,” Dean challenged, staring him down defiantly.
“...I thought that you’d hate me. Or… Or you’d tell me you loved me like a brother, or you’d not be able to look at me, or we’d have another fight and I’d leave, and that would be the end of it. That I would find myself living with absence instead of uncertainty. And I thought the uncertainty would be… easier.”
“Easier for who, Cas?”
“...for me.” Cas scrubbed the heel of his palm across his face. It was an incredibly human gesture, one he’d picked up from Dean. “I’m sorry. I thought I had more time. I should’ve known better by now.”
“Damn right you should’ve.”
A silence sat between them that simmered with Dean’s anger like heat waves off the pavement, and Castiel fought to pull words from it. So many emotions were swirling in his chest; bitterness, sorrow, regret, guilt, self-loathing, fear… Nothing good, that was for sure.
Dean spoke first.
“Cas.” His voice was quiet. More subdued. Carefully even.
“Dean.”
“Did you mean it?”
“Are you referring to...”
“What else would I be ‘referring to’?”
“I…” He paused, drawing in a breath. “Yes, I meant it. Every word.”
“And that the one thing you wanted… me. That that was the one thing you couldn’t have. That you couldn’t have had me.”
He didn’t respond.
“Answer the damn question, Cas!”
“Yes, okay! Yes, I thought that that was the best I was going to get. That I was going to tell you I loved you, and you’d know, and I’d be… I’d be honest about it for the first time in my life, and then you’d be gone from it, and that that one moment was the truest happiness I’d ever feel, because I can’t even begin to phantom a world where-”
“-where you could have me?”
“Yes!” Cas exclaimed, his voice breaking a bit on the word.
Dean was quiet for a long moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was much softer. “Cas, you always could’ve had me. You just had to say the word.”
He froze, staring at Dean. He was now standing about half a foot away from him, staring at him with eyes brimming with tears, green eyes blazing with a fierce intensity that terrified him.
“You always could’ve had me.”
And then Dean was grabbing his shoulders and pulling him into a tight hug, and Cas readily returned it, gripping the back of Dean’s jacket like if he let go he was going to lose him again. Dean was shaking in his arms, sobbing silently as he clung to him just as fiercely.
“I love you too, Cas,” came the shaky voice next to his ear. “I love you too.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t come back.”
“I’m sorry too.”