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A Dean/Castiel fic.
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Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Supernatural. I am definitely nowhere in the vicinity of that awesome. Kripke is a god.
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A/N: Well ... after that episode, there was no stopping me.
Yes, there are definite spoilers for Swan Song, so if you haven't seen tonight's episode, and you don't want it's gloriousness ruined for you, then stop reading here ... but feel free to come back after you've watched it! :)
Alright, I don't wanna go into a long author's note, so let's just get on with it, shall we?
I hope you guys like it, I know I'll love writing it.
As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!
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"Well, you really suck at goodbyes, you know that?" Dean said to the empty air in the Impala. He prepared for the long ride back to Bobby's alone.
"I am sorry," Castiel's gravelly voice broke out from beside him.
Dean jumped in response, swerving the car a little. "Jeeze!" he commented. "Wear a bell!"
Castiel furrowed his brow. "I was under the impression you wished to say a proper goodbye," he explained his return.
Dean looked over at him a couple times before slowing the car down in the shoulder of the highway. He saw Bobby's van whip past, and a moment later his cell phone rang. "Hey, Bobby," he spoke into the phone. "No, it's ok. - I'm fine. - Yeah, I just need a little breather. - No, I'll catch up, you keep going. - Yeah, alright. Bye, Bobby." He flipped it closed again, placing it in the console.
Castiel watched him throughout the conversation, waiting for him to make some move, or acknowledge his presence again.
After a moment Dean got out of the car, walking around and into the field by the road. Castiel appeared beside him when he came to a stop, peering into the darkness. "Well, I see you're enjoying being back in the saddle," Dean observed.
Castiel dropped his head a little. "It is nice to be me again."
Dean sighed, looking up at the starry sky. "Ah, Cas ... you were still you. You were just in a no-fly zone."
Castiel could have argued, but he chose not to, instead he just stood next to Dean.
"So, realistically, what do you think you're gonna accomplish up there? I mean, you rebelled big time, and you killed a butt-load of angels doing it," Dean reminded him. "You think they're just gonna welcome you back with open arms - or wings, or whatever?"
Castiel shrugged, toying with the corner of his mouth. "I have faith that I will be able to get through to them. And if not ... I've learned a few new methods of getting things done in my time on Earth, with you - and Sam," he added.
Dean nodded, kicking at the grass and dirt around his feet. "So, when do you think you'll be coming back?"
Castiel looked over at him with sad eyes. "I'm not entirely sure I will be. I don't know what's going on up there, I can only guess."
Dean sighed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "So, I guess this is an actual goodbye, then?"
Castiel nodded slowly. "Yes."
Dean pursed his lips, turning to face the angel. "Well, good luck. I hope everything works out for you."
Castiel nodded. "Likewise." He held his hand out for Dean to shake as Sam had done for him.
Dean eyed the hand, not wanting to accept his departure, but after a long couple of seconds he pulled a hand out of his pocket and grasped Castiel's, holding it firmly.
Castiel held his gaze, saying so much without uttering a single word.
Dean didn't try to pull his hand back, not wanting to be the one to break contact. He'd been through so much since the angel had come into his life. He'd brought Dean out of Hell, given him his life back ... made him whole again. Dean was afraid that if he left, he'd start splintering apart again, and he didn't know if he could come back from it all again. Not alone. Castiel's eyes told him that he understood; the sadness on his face letting him know that he wished he could stay.
Dean nodded after a long moment, his hand still connected to Castiel's. "I'm gonna hold onto the thought that you might still come back some day," he professed, hearing the hitch in his voice.
Castiel gazed into his green eyes, seeing the hope hidden in there with the guilt and sadness. He gripped his hand a little bit tighter, replying honestly, "I will, too."
Dean nodded again, staring back at the angel - the one who'd sworn he wasn't there to perch on his shoulder - and a second later he was gone. Dean blinked, feeling a momentary emptiness set deep within him. But then he felt a weight on his shoulder ... like the ghost of a hand settling over the print on his shoulder, filling him with a welcome warmth.
He closed his eyes, savoring the sensation, and when he opened them again, it was gone. But it didn't matter. He'd felt it. He knew - without a shred of tactile proof - that Castiel would come back to him. He had faith in him.
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The end.
Just a short little fic, but I just had to write something for that episode tonight.
What did you guys think?
Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful.
Until next time ...!