Black And White
He gripped the angel blade with two hands, his laughter echoing through the hollow tunnel.
"You don't want to do this," Castiel whispered, his voice bleeding desperation.
"This is all I want to do," Dean replied.
Castiel cowered on the ground and muttered a final prayer to God.
"Father," Castiel cried, "if you truly exist, if you are merciful upon your children, please… heal him."
Dean's joyless laughter rang out again, bouncing off the damp walls.
He raised the blade high, his black eyes void of any emotion.
"Say goodnight, Castiel."
"You used to call me Cas," he whispered sadly. Without hesitation, Dean brought the knife down, fast.
The blade struck the ground with a dull thud. Castiel had disappeared.
His immediate reaction was to swear. "Bollocks."
Bollocks? He had been hanging around Crowley for far too long. Adopting the King of Hell's catchphrase would have been laughable a few weeks ago. Before. Without understanding why, Dean felt relieved that Castiel had escaped. This feeling was brief, gone before it could develop into anything more. His memories had not evaded him. Although he loathed reminiscing about Before, he could not help but recall all the times Castiel has come to his aid. He remembered the looks they exchanged whenever Sam was not present, the intense force that pulled them together. He remembered how Castiel had sacrificed everything to be with him, how he betrayed heaven for a broken human.
'But I am not human any longer. I am a demon,' Dean thought. A tiny voice in the back of his mind made him doubt himself. 'Are you? Completely?' There was one memory that still haunted him.
"I am the one that gripped you tight and raised you from perdition," Castiel had told him, after pulling him out of hell.
"And now I belong there," Dean said aloud.
"Then bloody act like it," Crowley responded, having appeared out of nowhere, as was his custom.
"Now, now, don't worry about Moose," Crowley continued, adjusting his black tie. Moose was Crowley's nickname for Sam, Dean's brother.
He had misread the entire situation, assuming Dean's doubt had stemmed from his attachment to Sam. Dean didn't bother to correct him. "You-" Crowley paused. "-We. We just have to dispose of Castiel and then you can figure things out with Moose."
"Do not," Dean growled softly, "give me orders. Remember Crowley, you may be the King of Hell but I have the Mark of Cain. I am a Knight of Hell and I won't take orders from you. Not as a human, and not as a demon." With that, Dean disappeared silently.
Sammy tossed Cas a bottle of beer which he caught effortlessly.
"So he was really going to do it?" Sammy brushed his hair out of his eyes and sat down on the couch. His eyes were sunken, his face pale, his hair unkempt and longer than usual, which was saying a lot.
"I think so." Cas replied curtly. He sculled the beer and reached for his 8th bottle of the day.
"You think so? Cas, give me a straight answer, you know this is important."
"I thought he loved me," Cas whispered, his voice breaking.
"What?"
"I thought… I thought he loved us," Cas lowered his head. "Whatever. It doesn't matter anymore, he's gone. Dean is gone."
Cas closed his eyes and thought about what Metatron had said, only two weeks earlier. "You're in love with humanity," he had accused. But Cas knew that Metatron was wrong. He loved humanity but was not in love with it. Dean taught him what being in love meant. It meant doing anything for the person you love. It meant betraying heaven, losing a war, defying the very nature of your being- just to be with that person. It meant going to hell and back just for them. Quite literally. And if they were in hell, Cas thought, if they were in hell, love meant bringing them back. Bringing them home.
He missed Dean's eyes. His human eyes. The color of spring. Of fresh starts and new beginnings. Bright, vibrant green, like the first blade of grass breaking through the rich damp soil, bathing in the golden sun. He remembered the way he would lose himself in those eyes. When they held each other's gaze, time seems to stop, green on blue, the connection so fervent, so passionate, it was almost visible. And Sammy was so utterly and hopelessly oblivious to it all.
Cas tilted his head and squinted at Sammy. Although he grieved in silence, his pain was still clearly evident. Cas's gaze penetrated Sammy's soul and all he saw was turmoil and anguish. Sammy had given up on his brother. Cas stood up. "We must fix Dean," he declared. But before Sammy was able to reply, the lights flickered briefly and a thick black cloud flew in through the open window. Dean materialized before them.
Sam leapt up, gripping his demon knife, although it had already proved to be useless against Knights of Hell. The traps they had set up to keep him out had been futile, they were finally out of luck. Dean took a step towards them, slowly, carefully. While Sam backed away, Castiel advanced. In a blink of a colorless eye, Dean was upon him. Everything else faded away. The demon knife was knocked to the ground. A beer bottle shattered on the floor. The space between them was filled. Angel on Demon, black on white. Someone yelled, but the world was silent. Everything moved, but the world was still. A hand reached up. Gripped an arm. The lightbulbs exploded but were immediately replaced with a blinding light. Castiel grasped Deans forearm and the Mark of Cain turned red hot. Upon contact, a searing pain took a hold of Dean's body, inducing a seizure which left Dean sprawled out on the floor, shaking violently. His eyes flickered once, twice and then returned to their original color. The Mark of Cain bubbled and began to fade away. His heart was suddenly flooded with emotions, love the most overwhelming and powerful of all. He sat up, opened his eyes, and saw Cas leaning over, looking immensely concerned. Without stopping to think, he parted his lips, and leaned forward. As their mouths locked together, all their supressed emotions were released. Dean's heart exploded in his chest, and his fingers fumbled desperately, searching for Cas's hands.
Sammy, Hell, Demons, Heaven… all was forgotten in that moment. It seemed to last forever, seemed to have suspended the sun in the sky, seemed to be the only thing that mattered. Making up for lost time, Dean and Cas were a knot of limbs and wings. Every inch of skin burned with the intensity of love.
Cas pulled away. "This… I am an abomination."
"But you're my abomination," Dean replied.
"Uh, ew."
"Shut up Sammy,"
"It's good to have you back, you jerk."
Before Dean could reply, the bunker door swung open and Crowley strolled in. "Hello boys," He drawled. If he was surprised by the sight that met his eyes, he didn't show it. He turned to Sammy and raised an eyebrow.
"I don't know. Something happened… Cas touched him, and there was this light... and then they kissed? I don't know, I just don't know." Sammy held his head in his hands, trying to make sense of everything that had just occurred.
"Alright, alright, no need to get your panties into a twist," Crowley said. He turned to Dean and Cas. "Are you human again? What is this? What sort of Snow White fairy-tale crap is this?"
"Snow White? I am confused." Cas turned to Dean for an explanation but Dean offered none. Instead he caressed Cas's cheek, and brought their lips together once more, silencing him.
"And they lived happily ever after," Crowley muttered. And so they did.