Hey, ya'll, it's Alethea. I was gonna write my other Destiel story, the one that's a continuation of Epilogue: Destiel, but I decided that before I could write that one, I had to write the prequel and identify just what I thought happened to have Cas come back.

I got rid of the other universe/the tear in space and time thingie, mostly because I didn't like it and also cause I didn't kill off either Crowley or Mary (because I like them), but I kept Cas's death the same because I figure the only way Dean will realize how much he needs Cas is if he doesn't have him anymore.

This story can be read after Epilogue: Destiel, but if you're new to this series, please read this one first. If you've come from reading Epilogue: Destiel and you're already a fan, thank you, thank you, thank you for your support and I hope you enjoy this one as much as the other one.

Without further ado, here's Beginnings: Destiel. Enjoy, and don't forget to favorite, follow, and review!

I wrap my arm around Cas's waist, kissing his neck gently. "How're ya doin?"

"Well, Dean." He puts a hand on his stomach and I realize that it's round in front of him. I tentatively put my hand on top of his and I feel the gold band on his finger; it clinks against my matching one. "And Everly is fine, too."

It dawns on me suddenly that if Cas is pregnant and we're apparently married, then it must be my baby. So I smirk and say, "We've talked about this, haven't we? We're not naming our baby Everly."

"We will discuss it further later, Dean," he replies.

He tilts his head back and I press my lips to his.

I wake up abruptly in my bed, alone. There's a bottle in my hand, which is flung over the pillow next to me. I consider sitting up, but realize that my head should probably stay on the pillow, where I feel only the bare minimum of the pounding.

I bring the bottle to my lips and unscrew it to take a swig of burning liquid.

I don't know how many days it's been since Cas died.

A lot.

A few.

Forever.

Way, way too many.

I don't know what day it is. Wednesday, maybe? I don't know.

I've had dreams about him a lot, some even like the one I just had. Where we're married.

"Dean." It's not that I don't hear Sam's voice, I just try to ignore it through the haze of drunkenness and being still asleep. "Dean!"

"Hey, Sam," I greet him, swirling amber liquid around in the bottle of whatever-it-is.

His brows are furrowed at my drunken/hungover state, the one I've lived in since I watched my best friend get murdered by Satan. It's definitely not the first time I've seen someone die, not even the first time I've seen someone who I consider family die, but it's…Cas.

I turn away from Sam, resting my hand against my forehead. Then I close my eyes as the light on my desk becomes blinding. "Can you just leave, Sammy? You can take the bottle."

"Do you have another one stashed somewhere?" he asks suspiciously.

"No," I reply truthfully, opening my eyes. "I just…I'm gonna go back to bed. Sleep it off."

He nods, easing what I've determined as whiskey out of my hand, cringing slightly at the fact that it's warm from being in my hand so long. He walks toward the door, looking unsure of whether or not to leave me, but he stands in the doorway, hand on the doorknob, and tells me, "I'm sorry, Dean," before exiting.

I lay in my bed, on sheets I should probably wash, eyes closed, just thinking.

After Lucifer killed Cas, I killed him, avenging my friend. He's gone for good now. His son, Jack, died, and as far as we could tell, it's because his life force was tied to Cas's.

Which just made the fact that Cas was dead sink in even more.

Those first five minutes, Sam rushed off to check on Jack as the whole house lit up, coming back two minutes later telling us of his death. Mom lunged at Luci, but I rose, taking the angel blade that pierced through Cas's heart and thrusting it through his killer's.

Then I fell to my knees in front of Cas's lifeless body, Mom beside me with her arm around my heaving shoulders.

We took the body back to the Bunker with us, and I insisted on digging the grave on my own. I owed that to Cas. We buried him.

I barely remember a time when I didn't know how to shoot a gun. When I wasn't looking for the yellow-eyed demon. When I was still young and clueless and innocent. When I wasn't broken. But I have never felt more broken than by the weight pressing into me from all sides, the weight that came with losing someone that I honestly loved.

I don't say the word love a lot. I don't even remember if I ever told Cas I loved him (but then again, right now I can barely remember my own middle name). I wish I had.

And lately, I've been thinking that maybe I loved him different than I thought I did. I keep picturing a scene of us if Cas had lived, if I'd even told him how I really felt.

He would've had to make the first move, because my pride would get in the way, but then maybe we would've been together after all the shit calmed down, maybe we'd have gotten married, and - and eventually we'd have had kids, and we'd fight because I'd want to name them John, or Mary, or Henry, and he'd want to name them, I don't know, Everly like in my dream, or, what're angel names? Gab- what's his name again?

I blink, trying to remember. The archangel guy who put me in the TV show.

If Sam were here, he'd be concerned at my lack of memory of people who died however many years ago. I'll never forget Cas like that.

Oh! Gabriel. And I would've complained, and I would've felt uncomfortable for the first few months, but in the end, I would've been happy. The life I always talked about wanting, the life that my parents always wanted for me, I could've had it. But he's gone now.

It was blissful to forget Gabriel's name for those few seconds. It meant forgetting he'd died. I'll never forget Cas like that. No amount of any kind of liquor, nor amount of any kind of drugs I could possibly be desperate enough to take, would ever, EVER erase him from my memory.

He'll always be there, misunderstanding pop culture references, or saving my ass, or showing up naked covered in bees.

He should never have saved me from hell, because now I have to go through this one.

I fall into a fretful sleep, tossing and turning and waking up slightly more right-minded.

I am not drunk. At least, not entirely. It's a mostly conscious choice to get a picture of myself and root through the Men of Letters' stocks for the right herbs. It's a mostly conscious choice to, under the cover of darkness and my mother and Sam's sleep, get in Baby and drive to the nearest crossroads.

I wait impatiently for the crossroads demon to show up, convinced that this is the right solution. The only solution.

This is NOT what Cas would've wanted. But he can't tell me what he wants because he's not here, and I can't stand this any longer.

She shows up, eyes red, dressed in black, a sour expression on her face.

"What's the bitchface for?" I ask, demon knife in my back pocket should she be uninclined to accept my soul for Cas's life.

"Dean Winchester," she replies by way of explanation. "We didn't expect to see you again. You've come to pawn your soul yet again?"

"Yes. I assume you know why."

"Yes." Her lips twist into a sneering smile. "Your angel friend. Cas-ti-el."

I swallow heavily at the way she breaks it up into individual syllables, taunting me almost. "Yes. And I want what I wanted for Sammy all those years ago, for you to bring him back in exchange for ten years."

"But last time," she smirks even more, "You only got one year."

I take a breath and let it out through my nose slowly, considering what she's saying. But I want ten years with Cas. I want more. I want forever, and I could've had forever. But then there was fucking Lucifer, fucking up my life all over again.

"I want my ten years," I argue.

"Well, luckily for you…" she pauses, presumably to draw out the suspense and torture me even more, "My boss, you know him, right? Crowley, your bestie?"

I debate arguing, but decide it's not worth it, so I just nod.

"He's," she sighs, "Ordered that if it were to come to this and you tried to sell your soul for dear old Castiel's, we were to grant your wish without charging you. So it's a great day for you, Dean Winchester. You get your angel buddy back without giving up your soul. Anything else you'd like while we're at it?"

I think for a second. "Gabriel," I decide finally, remembering my thoughts from earlier. "I want you to bring Gabriel back as well."

"A seraph and an archangel? Steep demands, Winchester."

"Well should I call my bestie and take it up with him?" I suggest, and her nostrils flare dangerously.

"It's been done. Goodbye."

And with that, she's gone.

I drive the hour back to the Bunker in silence, no radio or anything. This should be a victory, but I so rarely have victories, and it'll only feel like one when I'm hugging Cas, when I can prove that he's real, that he's back.

When I park Baby and walk inside and go to the main room, there he is, breathing, trenchcoated and everything.

And without thinking, I throw my arms around him, pressing my lips to his.

It would be a perfect moment if there wasn't a loud cough from Gabriel, who's standing next to us.

- What'd you think? Should I continue? i'm thinking of having chapters about the beginning of their relationship, maybe a few (hahaha, who am I kidding? there are going to be soo many) fluff scenes, and then the engagement. Then Epilogue: Destiel tells the story after that.

Anyways, do you see the little box -? go type in it. And say nice things. Thank you!