The Winchesters were destined to be hunters from the start. From the moment Mary Winchester conceived them, this was their fate. They were doomed to lose everyone and everything as all hunters were. They, unlike the regular people in this crazy world, saw the truth of what goes on in the dark. They had every reason to be afraid of that darkness, but the thing is, they never were, well not really. You see these boys, these idiotic yet determined boys brought some light to the world every time they fought for its inhabitants. This is what fate decided for them, but if you ever confronted the Winchesters about this they would either attack you wondering why you knew about them or say screw fate.
Sam Winchester has always been considered the brains of the operation. He has always considered himself the black sheep of the family for wanting to be free, for wanting to get away from the madness his father forced on him. The idea of freedom pleased his mind so much that when he decided he couldn't stand the hunting lifestyle anymore, he went to Stanford. There he met the most beautiful girl in the world. Sam met the one girl he would truly love, the one who he planned on marrying. Jess is dead now, and ever since he's been avoiding women that fit her profile.
Jess's death and his father's absence caused Sam to continue hunting with his brother Dean. It led to the nights of constant research and indulging in large quantities of alcohol to cope with the pain he felt inside of him. It let to Sam feeling the need to take responsibility for his own actions and clean up his messes; in fact, he's cleaned up more messes than humanly possible. He's stopped an Apocalypse once or twice, been possessed by lucifer himself and yet he somehow still manages to get up every morning with the feeling that his work isn't done. It never will be.
Dean's the oldest of the two brothers, and he can often be seen as over protective and a bit codependent on his brother. A bit may be an understatement, but if you had pulled your sixth month brother out of a fire caused by a demon when you were just four you would be the same way. Don't look at the text like that, you know you would maybe not to the same extent ,but you know you'd be overprotective. Deans has always appeared to be the hard macho man on the outside, but in reality he's sweet and broken. He's been shattered into a million pieces, but somehow, Sammy has always brought him back. Sam has always been that one sliver of hope that keeps his older brother going.
In fact, the Winchesters are anchors for each other. They have this brotherly bond that somehow manages to keep the two of them sane in all the madness. It's as if they are two creatures who can not exist withought having each other around. They have each other's backs and that's all that currently matters to the both of them.
As their good old friend Bobby Singer used to tell them, family doesn't end with blood. Over the years, one could say that his boys had built up quite an extended family, but it was a good one. These people didn't just entwine with the Winchester tale and they shouldn't just be considered as characters adding up to the plot. Sure, every character in a good story is used as a plot device to the main characters, but they were the main characters in their stories which often ended too soon.
You had Jo, a hunter and a child at heart, something very rare to see in one person at the same time. She was a curious hunter at that, but a good one who never dealt with the bullshit the Winchesters had served her. She was smart and tough as nails, just like her mother Ellen. Ellen was always over protective of Jo because she was her only daughter. She was fierce, talented, and brave right until the very end. Then came Ash, the drop out from MIT who Ellen called a genius. That was true, he was a genius, and that same genius allowed him to shove the Winchester's original opinion of him up their asses. He was a bundle full of surprises. Rufus Turner was another friend of theirs and the coolest mother fucker you will ever meet. He could spot a lie from a mile away, and he Rufus could tell one from a mile away making you still believe it. No matter what anyone tells you, he was selfless, so selfless that he'd be willing to risk jail just so he could help out his best friend. Kevin Tran was one of the youngest to be thrown into this life. He was a student before he became a prophet, a student who had big plans for his future. Of course, he never really got the future he wanted, but he did get a family in the process. Last but not least, came Bobby Singer, the man with the plan, the man who had taken one weekend to build a panic room to ward off evil. Bobby considered the boys his own, even though he had no children. He got them out of trouble, knocked some sense into them when they were bickering, and saved a lot of people. All these people are dead without a doubt, gone too quickly, but they haven't been forgotten, they can never be.
Then came that one angel, that one dorky angel who made his way into the Winchester's hearts. He was the angel who made the mistake of retrieving Dean Winchester from hell and bringing him back to life. At the time, this was another mission, something God had commanded him and the other angels to do, but it was more than just that. It was a life changing event for Castiel. He watched over the boys because he was told to, he made sure they were safe from demons because he was ordered to, but he was never ordered to get close to them. He was never told that they would be the people he fell for for all the right reasons. He was never warned that they would change his opinion of humanity. You see, you can watch anyone struggle from far away at anytime and not question it, but the instant you are put up close to them, you can't help but question why people continue to fight. Yes, his curiosity on why humanity was so determined to live caused him pain and suffering at times, even death, but it also caused him to become more human. His faith in the boys led to who he is today, a rebel part of team free will who is determined to fight for what is right. His boys are his family, and he is part of theirs.
Being an angel isn't all full of holiness and halos. It's full of corruption, a lack of free will, and a sense of nothingness. Angels will do everything in their power to survive, but nothing to actually live. They don't know what living is actually like; all they know is order. They can't struggle, they can't experience the satisfaction of cold water sliding down one's throat on a hot summer day, they can't feel the sensation of pure happiness the moment one gets to taste something you've been wanting to eat in forever,but most importantly they can't sleep. They are incapable of having the privledge to simply close your eyes and drift off into another peaceful world. So they go by, with no sense of time, awake for an eternity, never being able to dream. What would they dream about anyway?
Cas doesn't have an absolute answer to this question as he watches over the Winchesters while they sleep in a motel. All he knows is that he craves it, he need an escape. He thinks about the drive here with strangers, hoping none of the angels or demons caught his trail. He knew coming here was stupid, he knew it was idiotic with his wings gone and the predicament, but he had to escape. He could no longer take being called leader; Castiel was just a soldier as he considered himself- a pawn in heavens hands. The moment Dean Winchester prayed for him gave him that chance to escape for a few days. He told them he had to go on a mission, and after lots of convincing and leaving Hazel in charge, he managed to go out on his own.
When Castiel was human, the most disturbing thing to him wasn't the pain, or the hunger and thirst, it was the silence. It was complete unnatural silence. He was disconnected from his brothers and sisters for the first time in a millennia. All Castiel heard was his own voice in the back of his mind, no one else trying to invade or give him orders. It was different, creepy, but it was human. But Cas didn't want to hear his own voice, he didn't want to hear him constantly putting himself down for being fooled by someone he trusted again, especially by another one of his siblings. He wanted to hear two voices and two alone, the voices of the boys he knew would be praying to him. Well, he didn't believe they would pray to him anymore, why would they. He was the one who caused the angels to fall. He was the one who beat up Dean Winchester and just left. Dean. The man who had so much faith in him probably had none now.
Retrieving Theos's grace to substitute for his own missing grace didn't make many things better. It burned out the silence, replacing it with shouts of pain, misery, hatred and confusion from the other angels. In that cacophony, he managed to hear one voice that seemed louder than the others. It was comforting that that person still prayed to him, yet painful knowing that he couldn't teleport to that voice, just like he couldn't in Purgatory. Again, Cas would have to leave Dean, his friend, without anything. He heard his pleas for help, he heard Dean's saddness, he could feel his pain. This was Castiel's fault, the fall, Sam, Kevin, Dean turning to the Mark of Cain when he had no other choice.
Cas snaps back to the present. That was then, this is now, and things will get better. He looks around the motel room. It smells of strong cologne, cinnamon, and sweat; it smells like home. This is what feels like home to the angel. It isn't that bunker the boys found, instead it's the motels, the Impala and it's cushions, the hunts. This is what life felt like with them before things got so...complicated. He looks around carefully observing the sigils he drew on he walls to protect the Winchester's from demons and angels. They are perfect in every detail, but he double checks knowing they need to be safe. His eyes slide over to the two occupied beds sitting opposite his seat on the couch. The left side is neat, with a dark green duffel bag already packed on its side. Jewelry of different kinds occupies the nightstand. One important piece of jewelry is missing though and he knows it. It's been missing for years. He can smell the scent holy water coming from that side, Dean's side. The right side is a bit of a mess with Sam's favorite plaid shirts strewn about. A dim blue light comes off from the laptop on the nightstand showing Sam's face covered in his hair. He can hear him snoring under it all. His left foot hangs off the bed making Cas smile. His boys, so mature yet childlike.
The angels blue eyes flutter open to be greeted by a man sitting on the couch. His dirty blond hair is in a mess, his green eyes are focused on Sam's laptop screen. Cas can already smell the liquor coming off from him. He looks toward Dean's right arm halfway covered in a dark blue shirt. It doesn't stop him from seeing that mark, that stupid mark. How could Dean have been so stupid? Cas unclenches his jaw, realizing something. He was asleep, he shouldn't have been able to fall asleep. His mind races back to a conversation he had with the boys. Certain bloodlines, certain graces, he remembers saying. Theo's grace wasn't meant for Jimmy Novaks body, and Castiel knew it. He and Metatron knew it was burning him out, that he would be dead soon and he couldn't do anything about it. His eyes make one more glance at Dean. Maybe I should tell them, he thought. It's not like they wouldn't care. He clears his throat, but stops himself. Now wasn't the time to say he was dying, his boys would care too much.
Dean continues to sit on the uncomfortable couch, his eyes plastered unto the laptop. Dean doesn't focus on the porn though, it's just a distraction, he's busy thinking. His hand moves up instinctively to his neck, touching air. The amulet his brother gave him is gone, long gone, and he needs it now the most. This Mark is changing him, it's making him into something he doesn't want to be. It's making him into one of those monsters. He can feel Cas watching him with those observant eyes. Castiel has the curiosity of a cat, constantly watching, constantly learning. Dean can feel the slight tilt of the head Cas always does when he is concerned, but he ignores it.
"Hello Dean," Cas says in his gravelly voice. It feels as if a weight has been lifted off him, oh how long it's been since he said those words. Dean has the urge to smile in return, but he doesn't, instead he just takes a sip out of the beer beside him.
"Heya Cas," the Winchester says a bit too coldly. He bites the inside of his cheek, upset that he can't even have a regular conversation with one of his old pals without the Mark of Cain interfering.
The conversation remains at a halt for a few more moments, the porn noises taking up the rest of the room. Where are a pair of headphones when you need them? A memory of the time Dean first scolded him for watching porn in a room full of men floats by, leaving Cas with a dorky smile plastered on his face. As his death came nearer, he began to remember the little things, the old things. Dean could see this from the corner of his eye, the curiosity burning inside him. He wanted to ask Cas why the hell he was laughing when the world was ending. He wanted to ask Cas if he was okay, anything to get his mind off of this crap.
"I came because you called. I heard your prayer." He should have said that he missed being with him and Sam. The tension between them was cut. The angel heard him? How much had he heard? Had he heard Dean bargaining in with God these past few weeks. Had he heard him cursing at Metaron? The Winchester closed his laptop and directed his attention to Castiel.
"You heard," Dean said rather embarrassed. The things he said,-
"I always hear when you pray Dean. Your voice tends to be the loudest," Castiel responds. Dean ignores what sounds like an accidental flirtation. He knew the angel wasn't over exaggerating. Cas was always speaking that way, whether he knew it or not, but that was the diction everyone got used to. Sometimes he was a bit too honest.
"How'd you get here? Did you drive? "Dean asks nearly laughing at the thought of the angel driving. He's beginning to loosen up a bit, become himself again, it's just well, Cas is always easy to talk to. He listens, he cares, he doesn't talk much or judge.
"I don't know how to drive Dean," he says making Dean's eyes light up a bit with excitement. He knows if Cas doesn't get his wings, he's going to have to teach him, just like he taught Sam when they were kids. Just, of course, not in his car.
"My angels and I have a lead on Metatron," are the next words to come out of Castiel's mouth. He nearly regrets saying it when he sees Dean's expression hardened. Cas scolds himself mentally. Dean almost gets mad, believing for a split moment that that was why the angel came, but something in Castiel's expression made him change his belief. He looked over to the sigils. Cas didn't have an army with him, he even went to a great extent to angel proof the motel, which he and Sam would have to clean up later.
"Where is he?" Dean asks, he clenches his jaw. Damn Metatron. He couldn't wait to get his hands on him and make him pay. Make him pay for Sam, for Kevin, for Cas losing his grace. He would make him pay for everything.
Castiel is hesitant to answer, knowing that explaining himself would only lead to further discomfort on Dean's part. "Currently teamed with Abbadon in Nevada," he says. Great. What was it a douchebag convention up there? Metatron would be hard to fight, but a knight of hell and an angel playing god, that was insanity.
The two were both absorbed in the conversation that they didn't notice Sam exit the bathroom, fully clothed in his usual plaid, with his hair soaked. He ran a white towel through his hair as steam followed him out of the bathroom. Sam's eyes immediately widene with surprise the instant he sees Cas. It is as if he was a 6'4 energetic puppy seeing their best friend after a long time. He openshis mouth, but was at a loss for words. He looks from Dean to Cas and then back to Dean, waiting for an explanation.
They did explain. Cas talked about his journey up here, the generous people he met, his mission. He didn't tell Sam that Dean prayed for him to come, Dean wouldn't have appreciated all that mushy stuff. Castiel didn't know that Sam was well aware of Dean's prayers. At night, when Dean thought he fell asleep, he would hear the sobbing, he would hear the tension in his brothers voice each time it caught. It nearly broke him.
"Well, it's good to see you," Sam says. He knew something was wrong, that was one of his best qualities. It was strange how Lucifer chose him as his vessel, a man so worthy of any other angel. A man who understood when Lucifer could barely understand humanity at its roots. He observed Cas, noticing something was different about him, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly what.
Cas smiles back. It's good to see you both. You may be the last people I ever see. He grabs for his duffel situated beside him and gets up.
"I'm assuming you two are going to need some time before we can leave and go on whatever hunt you were planning," he says while rummaging through his dufflebag. He came prepared, "my vessel's dirty." He pulls out a pair of new clothing, identical to the ones he used to wear. It took him forever to find a pair like it, but it was familiar and it felt like home. Only one part was lacking, one important piece, but he couldn't do anything about it. He'd have to deal with this boring new trenchcoat. Cas set his clothing on the bed, petting down the creases. He should have let someone trained in ironing iron his clothing, but he didn't want to let these out of sight. Then his eyes catch a glimpse of something gold shining through the rest of his clothing. He looks at it for a moment, recognizing what it is, and smiles. He picks it up and feels it, the gold cold to his warm hands. Cas traces over it with his fingers making sure to catch every detail. Castiel runs his hand along the piece of string holding it together. Dean needs this.
Cas turns around to face the boys who were watching his every move. Both of them immediately catch sight of what he is holding. They are stunned. It's been years since they've seen it. Sam looks up at Cas, his eyes water a bit. He doesn't know what to say. Dean pauses, his hard expression soon melting. He stares at the object, so old yet so familiar. It's a piece of him he lost a while ago.
"Cas?" Dean says. That's all he says because he is at a loss for words.
"You kept that, after all these years," Sam adds. Castiel nods in return. He throws it to Dean who manages to snap out of his trance like state just in time to catch it. Dean grips it tightly as if it would disappear in an instant. He shakes his head. Cas, he thinks. Dean can feel his chest tighten with regret. He should have never thrown this away, he should have never dumped it in the garbage like it was just a piece of trash. He should have never given up on Sam all those times.
"Of course I did. I figured you two would need it," He picks up his clothing, ready to walk to the bathroom. He doesn't know what caused him to have the urge to give the amulet away, he just knows it needed to be done. Again he looks toward his boys, who haven't stopped staring at him, they look so innocent. They look like they did when he first met them, scared and confused. He shakes this off for a moment and steps into the bathroom, escaping their glances or questions before they can be asked.
The Winchester sit on the couch in silence for a few moments. Dean begins to fumble with his old amulet, debating on whether or not to put it on. A pleading look from Sam nearly melts his heart. He should, he owes Sam after everything he's done to him. Calling Sam a freak, telling Sam he was never good enough, basically abandoning him. He wouldn't do it again, not ever. Dean works the amulet over his head, managing to place it in it's rightful place. He looks at his brother who smiles.
The water from the shower turns on, telling the brothers Cas was just out of ear shot now.
"What's up with Cas?" Sam asks using a tone just below a whisper. The angel never acts like this, and why was he going down memory lane. A knot formed in Sam's gut, something was wrong very wrong.
"I don't know," Dean says as he gets up from the couch leaving Sam to grab his laptop before it falls. Dean's no idiot either, he can recognize when something is different, but he doesn't want to know. He can't know. Instead he walks out of the motel room, closing the door behind him and walks to the Impala without a sound. He's not leaving, he's just needs so air in the most comfortable place he knows.