Hey! Obviously this is not how it's going to happen but I started this before knowing anything about 11x21. I'm looking forward to the actual ep! Would have been very happy with seeing this scenario play out on screen, though. Sorry I have this weird fetish for having them quote themselves? It's probably because nothing I come up with could be as romantic and super gay as their lines from the actual show LMAO. Anyway, please review!
Sam held his breath as he listened to Amara's cool parting jibe at Lucifer. He watched through the crack in the door as she dissolved into smoke, drawn by a summons from her elusive brother. Sending the blank text to Dean, he poked his head into the room, drawing the spell cautiously from his pocket.
Lucifer raised his head slowly as Sam walked across the floor towards him, his usually snide expression faded and ravaged. He mustered up a sneer that looked more like a pained grimace, almost dangling from the handcuffs that Amara had conjured in her absence.
"Ah, Sammy," he croaked. "Here to rescue me? How romantic."
"Fuck off, Lucifer," Sam snarled, swinging off the small backpack and rummaging in it. He drew out a pewter bowl, a wooden pestle and a small woven mat with symbols arranged across it in delicate embroidery.
The devil shook his head as though disappointed but Sam could see the very real dejection in his eyes. Maybe it would have captured his sympathy if those weren't stolen eyes in a stolen body.
As Sam emptied vials and pouches into the bowl, Dean came bursting through the door, expression wild. He paused for a moment, gazing across the room at where Lucifer was clearly suffering from strong pain and total exhaustion, borrowed blue eyes hollow in a drawn and pale face.
"Cas," he whispered, choked. Lucifer rolled his eyes, regaining some animation in his utter disgust.
"Fuck's sake, not this again," he drawled, shaking his bruised wrists above his head to emphasise his eagerness for escape. Dean's eyes narrowed and he strode across the floor, fists clenched, looking at his brother.
"I came as quickly as I could. She won't be long, Chuck warned us that he's gonna avoid a real fight. You almost done?"
"Yeah. Blood."
Dean grabbed a short knife from his inside pocket and sliced his forearm open almost absent-mindedly as Sam did the same, dripping blood into the half-full bowl. They both recited the spell in unison, totally ignoring Lucifer's garbled mix of begging and cursing as the exorcism - given a little extra kick by God himself - took effect. As he neared the end of the recitation, Sam flicked a lit match into the bowl and Lucifer convulsed as though the flames were on him rather in the container. Both Winchester brothers watched with held breath as his eyes glowed and the room pulsed with light.
Within seconds, it was over. A limp body hung from the handcuffs. Dean exhaled in a rush and scrambled around the table, reaching the wall and grabbing the lapels of the old coat.
"Cas?" he breathed, hope painfully clear in his tone. "Cas, wake up..."
He shook the coat roughly. The figure before him grunted with the movement and confused blue eyes opened groggily.
"D... Dean...?" Cas muttered, squinting as though looking into bright sunlight.
"Cas," the hunter gasped, fists tightly clenched in the tan material. "Shit, thank Christ."
"Christ?" the angel murmured in tired puzzlement, before immediately moving onto more pressing matters. "Dean, what are you doing here?"
Dean frowned, still breathing a little hard. "Rescuing your dumb ass, obviously."
Cas blinked at him, entire face furrowed as though Dean had just said something incredibly incomprehensible. "But..."
"No time, Cas, Amara could realise she's been fooled any minute and come back here," Dean interrupted urgently. He released Cas's coat and glanced upwards. "Those look pretty standard. I'll get you out."
Smoothly pulling a lock-picking set from his pocket, Dean kept his eyes fixed on Cas's hands as he stepped close and stretched up to pick the handcuffs open. Cas blinked again, distracted and still totally confused. He looked over Dean's shoulder to see Sam zipping up the backpack, having cleared away all of the spell ingredients. He was glancing at them, smiling tiredly when he met Cas's eyes.
Cas twisted his head and neck to stare at the side of Dean's face. Dean didn't move his gaze from the handcuffs, although his skin flushed. Cas studied him intently and the seconds ticked by in tense silence, Sam shuffling in the background and Dean turning an alarming shade of pink.
"Stop it," he muttered, jaw clenching as he fiddled with the lock picking tools, eyes trained resolutely on his task.
"I don't understand," Cas murmured back, gaze still wandering all over Dean's face from mere centimetres away. The lock clicked open and Dean pulled Cas's wrists from the cuffs, his gentle touch at odds with his flustered scowl. He stepped back smartly and shot Cas an annoyed look, despite his fingers rubbing softly at Cas's .bruised skin as he brought the angel's hands down between them.
"Understand what?" he snapped, clinging onto Cas's hands, thumbs stroking over the backs, the movement slightly frantic and possessive. "Look, it doesn't matter right now, we really gotta go."
Cas dropped his eyes to their joined hands and he stared at them as he spoke, still looking totally nonplussed by something. "You don't have a way to defeat Amara?"
"Nope, still working on it. Come on!" Dean dropped one hand and tugged the other as he turned, clearly intending to drag Cas along with them. The angel stumbled a few steps but then pulled back and spoke again, sounding horribly genuine.
"Then why did you come here? It was dangerous and pointless..."
Dean froze. His eyes met Sam's and his younger brother looked just as shocked and sad and sickened as he felt. How could Cas be this convinced of his own lack of worth? Was he really so sure that Dean and Sam wouldn't save him except as a side mission to defeating Amara? Dean swallowed hard, his grip tight on Cas's hand. He turned around, eyes bright with pain as they met a stare like cracked blue porcelain glaze; hard and shiny but irrevocably broken. Dean shook his head, opening his mouth to speak, but no words came to him and he simply gazed at Cas, heartbroken expression morphing slowly into annoyance. Why couldn't Cas just get it?
It was that last thought that finally pushed him over the edge of indecision and fear. Huffing in frustration and narrowing his eyes in determination, Dean stepped back towards Cas even as he yanked the angel forward by the hand, bunching his free fist once more in the front of the bloodstained coat. He caught a glimpse of Cas's startled, confused, beautifully familiar face before he kissed him firmly on the mouth, slanting and parting his lips forcefully to leave absolutely zero room for doubt. He twisted and tugged at the coat to get them closer together even as his other hand interlaced their fingers with unprecedented tenderness. Dean's feelings for Cas had always been a mess of contradictions and his kiss reflected that fully, with Dean rather mercilessly running his tongue over Cas's split lip before pulling back and ghosting a chaste peck against the same spot. He dropped two more quick kisses against Cas's lips, desperate and clumsy but gentler each time, before sighing and leaning their foreheads together, eyes still closed.
Cas had uttered a single shocked whimper at first contact and had then kept silent throughout the rest of the kiss - despite most definitely kissing back - but now he let out a deep, shaky breath against Dean's mouth, still just a bare inch away from his own. There was a long moment of quiet before Cas spoke, just enough time for Dean to wonder uncomfortably what Sam's face looked like right now, several feet behind him. The husky murmur spoken almost onto his lips instantly distracted him, though.
"Do I detect a note of forgiveness?"
It took Dean a moment to remember when he'd heard the angel use the phrase before and he exhaled a laugh, shaking his head and finally opening his eyes as he pulled back to stare at Cas. Despite his dryly humourous remark Cas looked nothing short of astonished, disbelief and shy ecstasy warring in his expression. He looked sort of drunk, actually.
"Nothing to forgive," Dean assured him gruffly, squeezing Cas's fingers with one hand and lifting the other to brush against a bruised, stubbled cheek. Swallowing hard at the rather alarmingly adoring look that appeared in those weary blue eyes at that moment, Dean turned to face what would undoubtedly be the flabbergasted face of his brother. Instead, he got the smuggest smirk he'd ever encountered.
"You guys done with the dramatic reveal?" Sam enquired with mock concern, eyes twinkling happily. He hoisted his backpack more securely over one shoulder. "Because I hate to break this up, but we really have to go."
Dean blinked stupidly. "Uh. Sure, OK. Let's go."
Sam rolled his eyes and turned, walking briskly towards the door. Dean tugged Cas along, almost jogging to keep up with the long stride.
This time, the angel followed without hesitation.
THE END