Ok, something new from me. Yes, AGAIN. This one won't take up too much of my time hopefully.
If you haven't read And It Is Written, read it first, otherwise this isn't gonna make a whole lot of sense.
This is gonna be a series of oneshots and songfics and whatnot, all taking place in the nine years after Dean's death, up until when AIIW finishes.
I own nothing. Points for the first person to guess the song.
--
Dean was gone.
That was the hardest thing to wrap his head around.
His big brother was dead.
Tears slipped down his cheeks as he cried for his dead family. First his mom, then dad, and now Dean.
Dean had always been there, through thick and thin, better and worse. The only times he hadn't had been were Stanford, and his four months in hell.
So lately, I've been wonderin
Who will be there to take my place
When I'm gone, you'll need love
To light the shadows on your face
The first time Dean died, Sam coped, because he knew it was coming. Hell, it still knocked him for six, but he still functioned, fueled as he was by the promise of revenge, by the anger Lilith instilled in him. But this time, there was no coming back.
If a great wave should fall
It would fall upon us all
And between the sand and stone
Could you make it on your own
There would be no more Sam and Dean, not anymore. It was like a barrier had slammed down between the brothers, cutting Sam off not from the only person that mattered, but from everyone, and everything. He could no longer access his emotions, his willpower, even his fucking demon mojo had shut the hell up. He was truly alone in the world now, and he didn't know if he could face a world without Dean.
He didn't know if he wanted to.
--
It was eleven days since he'd buried Dean, in the cemetery behind the church where Dean saved the world, and Sam's world came crashing down around them. He had heard nothing from Cas since before Dean's death. Maybe he fucked off back to heaven, now that his job's done, he thought bitterly, kicking at a headstone.
Suddenly, behind him, he heard the whoosh of feathers he had come to associate with Cas. 'What do you want?' he snapped, not bothering to look up, instead focusing on the simple tombstone in front of him, small letters inscribed on it.
WINCHESTER
1979-2009
Footsteps came up beside him as Castiel stopped, the hem of his trench coat beaded with dew from the long grass around them. 'I'm truly sorry, Sam,' he said, his voice tired and ragged.
'If you're so sorry, why did it take you eleven days to say it?'
There was silence, and Sam looked sideways with tear filled eyes, taken aback by what he saw. This wasn't the Cas he knew. His trench coat and suit, normally spotless, if a little askew, were stained and ripped, blood littering the white dress shirt. 'What happened?' Sam asked, eyes roving the angel.
'I died,' he said simply. 'And something brought me back.'
They stood together, paying silent respects to the fallen savior. 'I miss him,' whispered Sam, as he allowed the tears to wash his pain away, bringing with them a fresh wave of agony.
'I know,' Castiel replied. 'He was a good man.'
'Is it over?' he asked, wiping away the salty water brimming on his lids once again.
'The apocalypse? Yes. But there are still evil creatures out there. Creatures you have to kill.'
Sam shook his head furiously. 'No. I'm out. I have lost too damn much to this life. I'm getting the hell out.'
A third voice came from behind Sam, and he spun round to see a young woman, jet black hair falling into her eyes. 'The world needs hunters, Sam, and you're the best they've got.'
'Was the best,' he replied, walking away from the angel and the stranger. 'Not anymore. Sorry Cas. I can't do this without Dean.'
'But you can do this for Dean,' the woman added, falling into step beside him.
'Who are you?'
'Raniel. I was sent by a higher power.'
'The same god who let my brother die saving the fucking world? He better be having a damn good time up there, for what it cost us.'
She paused. 'Dean's not in paradise Sam. That's why Cas is here. We're going to save him.'
He whirled around, his huge frame dwarfing Raniel's tiny vessel. 'Dean's in hell?'
He could feel his chest tightening as the news sunk in. He died fighting for heaven, and he ended up in hell? He fought off a panic attack uselessly. Frightened tears slid down his cheeks as he dropped to his knees, gulping in wheezing gasps of air.
He vaguely registered someone gripping his bicep firmly. 'No, Sam! We're going to bring him back. He's going to be fine. Listen to me, you son of a bitch!'
Slowly, the weight was lifted, and he could breathe. He wiped the tears of pain and asphyxiation from his cheeks. 'I didn't think angels were allowed to swear,' he joked weakly.
Raniel smiled. 'I'm not the harp wearing, halo playing angel you're thinking of. And I'm certainly not my reserved, whiter than white brother.' She laughed, before lapsing into silence again.
'It gets better, you know,' she said after a while.
Sam snorted.
'It does,' she insisted. 'I lost many of my brothers and sisters during the last war, and eventually, the hole left behind begins to heal. You're never the same again, but one day, life seems like it's worth living again.'
'I don't want the hole to heal!' he exclaimed. 'I just want my brother back!'
'You're going to get him back,' she soothed. 'But until you do, I'll be right here next to you. You're gonna be OK.'
If I could, then I would
I'll go wherever you will go
Way up high, or down low
I'll go wherever you will go
And though he barely knew her, Sam found himself believing her, and trusting her. Maybe she was right. Maybe he could move on from Dean. And maybe, just maybe, the angels could bring them back together again.
--
OK, longer than I thought it would be, but I like it.
Are there any scenes people want to see in this btw? Any Sam and Cas moments, or things you think could happen in the next nine years? I'm wide open for ideas.
More coming soon!