Guardian Angel
Everything was so grey and boring and faded. Like Purgatory was. It felt like he hadn't even come back yet to the real world, and a year without his baby was sure to be something exciting. But it was too disappointing, being back. And he had no idea why. He guessed it was a sense of freedom he'd gotten, in those wild forests, where the hunter inside him was released fully and he wasn't judged for any of it. Dean clutched the wheel of his Impala almost as a comfort, yet nothing was helping his erratic mind calm down. Driving down those endless motorways, his brain able to wander over the paths of his deepest fears and worries in which he usually found a distraction. It was why he loved working cases so much. It took his mind off the real, bigger problems.
Maybe his eyes simply hadn't adjusted. Maybe being stuck in Purgatory for a year had impaired his vision of colour. Whatever it was, it was annoying the crap out of him. After everything he had done, he was sure he deserved something better than this. Even food, drink, it had all tasted so weird. Why the hell did it have to affect his food? That was the cruelest crime of all. Another side effect. He thought of Benny, the portal, how he had let him out from Purgatory like a prison break. However, he trusted him. Benny had been nothing but good to him and he deserved life. As long as he didn't go killing humans, Dean was confident he'd made a good choice. Anyway, a vampire let free into the world were the least of his worries. Sammy had already given up by the time he had returned and he had been mad, but at the same time he felt almost like he was being too hypocritical. He had gotten his year, Sam had gotten his year. It hadn't helped he had kept a dog but that was again, a little too tame for his head. He only hoped it wouldn't mess up his Impala.
Dean sighed, his eyes hollow from the crushing lack of sleep and his thoughts drifted. Benny, Leviathans, Sammy, Cas.
Cas.
That painful image was too much to bear, too much to think about. His slack hand sliding from his grasp and the pleading eyes that had made him grow weaker with every second. His overgrown beard and now dirty trench coat were coming back to haunt him as he turned a corner. He kept his eyes trained on the road ahead of him, both physically and mentally. He had no idea what sort of horrors would come next, which challenges to face after the Leviathans. While they had been tough, he couldn't help but premonition that things would get even harder. It happened every time.
In an instant, a flash of colour, small but extinguishable from the drab tones. He kept on driving past that coruscation of light, until his eyes widened as it suddenly hit him. Reversing, his breath quickened and he wondered if he had actually seen what he thought he had. It could have been that he was thinking too much about him, that his mind was playing tricks on him. It did that a lot. But something told him it wasn't just a hallucination.
There he was, as dirty and wasting away as he had been in Purgatory, trench coat almost discolouring the fabric and his beard still shaggy and overgrown. He was walking on the side of the road, stumbling along like a man that had lost his way, and his mind. But suddenly he couldn't see him again, and he stared in shock at what he had sworn was Cas. The colour was gone, and everything returned back to normal. But there was no trace of Cas ever being there. Maybe his mind really was deceiving him. Perhaps he had just disappeared away with a flap of his wings, but it hadn't seemed that way. The repercussions of being in Purgatory had left him so at odds he thought he was seeing Castiel everywhere.
••••
He could see himself clearly, beheading vampires, watching blood pour out of their detached skulls and see the black goo of Leviathans drip onto his blade. He could see the endless forests, the rocky pathway through the trees and feel the beating of his heart hammer at his chest as he ran. He stared at Benny's face, that smile of friendliness he had never known in any other kind of supernatural being. His help, his kindness, was why he was out. He could see Cas at the lake, perched to the edge of the water, staring at the ripples, his face like marble. His last look at Dean, the desperation and weakness in his eyes as his hand slipped out of his grasp and he faded away. Out of reach, out of sight, lost forever...
His eyes opened, his body launched upright, eyes open wide and swear clinging to his t-shirt. His breath was heavy as his head turned toward the window, making him jump at the figure through the glass. It was Cas again. Clear as anything, he was sure it had to be. Watching Dean, staring so intensely it had startled him. But within the next roll of lightning he was gone once more. He shook his head, cursing his mind for allowing any more of these hallucinations. Yet he was certain he was real, still convinced it had been him, for that splash of colour had come back again, illuminating his face and clothes. Ever since that damned forest, he had been worrying about him, too much for his own good. He saw Sam there, a figure sprawled underneath the bedsheets, grey as everything else was. What was up with his eyesight? Was colour being drained from his brain? All he could think about was seeing his face blaze before his eyes.
His breath settled, trying to calm his mind, willing himself to go back to sleep. He lowered himself back down into his pillows, closing his eyes and trying to dispel every bad image from his mind. Being him, it wasn't easy.
••••
Dean splashed his face with water, waking his senses up and trying to restore his colour-blinded sight to normal. Hoping to clear his thoughts, keep on track of the tasks at hand. Everything was so much more complicated and awkward, the atmosphere between him and Sammy was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with each moment of silence. He knew it would pass, in time. They always worked as a team so neither of them could stay mad for as long as they would like. He wished just for a moment, that they had a normal relationship. That being brothers would mean giving girl advice and going round each other's for BBQ's with their children. It was weird to think that they had almost had that future, that childhood. But all the same, he couldn't envision them doing that now, or ever. His head lifted, hands wiping his face until he looked into the mirror. He turned round like a shot, staring at him directly opposite. Definitely him, definitely real. He was shocked for words, speechless. He couldn't even process his surprise before his voice rang out in soft, angelic tones, saying those words like he always did.
'Hello Dean.'
It was a relief to hear his name spoken in his voice again, yet he couldn't understand how he'd gotten out. He was so weak and frail, no power or energy and certainly not enough of it to blast himself out there anyway. Dean gad known he couldn't make it from then on, he looked like death himself. Yet here he was, standing in front of him, colour rippling over his radiating body, the shade of his trench coat and hair and blue tie finally clicking solidly into place. It was the first time he was able to focus clearly on the colours since Purgatory. He didn't know the cause of his sudden revival, which didn't console him, but at least he knew he hadn't been going crazy.
He had seen him all along.
••••
It was dark, the night casting shadows on his Impala as he paced. Watching the ground, so achromatic. And then the force of light turned towards him, clean-shaven, his clothes no longer dirty and ruffled. He noticed his renewed tie round the collar of his shirt and for a moment he simply stared at him, arms crossed, forehead creased.
'Dean.' He called, 'you wanted to speak with me.' He stated matter-of-factly.
'Yeah man, how the hell did you get out of Purgatory?'
'Was this meant to be a joke? Purgatory is the back door to Hell, I thought you knew-'
'No, Cas, I'm not saying that, I'm asking, how did you get out? You were gone, you were...weak, Cas. There was no way you could have escaped.'
'I've already told you before, this morning. I don't know.'
He sighed, still staring at the ground.
'Why did you ask me again?'
'Because you know you can trust me. I thought maybe you didn't want to tell Sam.'
'Why would I do that?' He asked.
He raised his eyebrows, shaking his head.
'I don't know.'
He stepped closer, embracing him like he had in Purgatory, holding tight to his coat. For a moment he didn't react, but then arms clapped him on the back awkwardly. He still didn't have a clue about social situations.
Dean withdrew, staring at him with doleful eyes.
'Why did I lose you?'
Cas didn't answer, yet he could tell he was hiding something. For once he couldn't be bothered to question him further.
'Cas, I'm suddenly seeing everything grey...but you're in colour. The only thing. Is it an after effect of Purgatory?'
'I'm not sure. But I have it to.'
'So you can only see me? In full colour?'
'Yes. Even angel vision should be working.'
'But it's not?'
'No, I don't know why.'
He seemed to deliberate for a moment, and then his eyes met his. From one moment to the next, he had pressed his lips to his and Dean was taken aback so much he nearly dented his Impala.
'Wh-what the bloody hell was that?' He accused, staring at him like crazy.
'I know what it is now,' he explained, 'you can only see me in colour. I can only see you in colour. At first I wasn't sure, but I had to make certain.'
'What, by kissing me?!'
'Yes, Dean. It's actually something taboo among angels. I was surprised when I felt it.'
'Felt what, what are you talking about? If the angels are gonna swoop down here and kill you because you've just done something against your stupid, angel code, then-'
'Be quiet, Dean.' He commanded, his hand placing itself over his chest, glowing white and gazing intensely at him
'Okay, now you're starting to freak me out.'
'We're connected. It is affecting our eyesight, because we are soul mates.'
He spluttered. 'Soul mates? What do you mean, soul mates?' He shouted.
'Do not get angry, Dean.'
'Not get angry? You've just told me in your soulmate.' He emphasised.
'Yes.'
He sighed, but something sparked in his eyes like the recognition of his own heart beating under the skin of the man before him. His vision came flooding back to him, but Castiel seemed to grow brighter, until it almost hurt his eyes. His hair ruffled in the wind, light illuminating his face and highlighting those eyes. Dean stood still, facing him, breathing equally to the rhythm of Cas'.
His lips brushed his, and he leaned into him, eyes shielding themselves from such vivid light. Cas reciprocated, his hands gripping his wrists and mouth soft on his. He could feel the scratch of stubble on his chin as he smiled and pulled in further, foreheads pressed together and Dean enjoying every moment of it. He turned, pushing Cas against the car door, taking on his forcefulness in a stride of dominance. He threw his trench coat to the ground, and the jacket underneath, Cas not protesting in the slightest. He loosened his tie as Dean's tongue probed his and he let it drop too. He explored his chest, over muscles Dean had never even thought he had, strong skin that kept the essence of his grace inside him. Pushing him further against the car, Cas suddenly released his wings. Massive, black ones that enveloped the both of them and gave off a smoky phosphorescence. Dean stroked one wondrously, pulling his t-shirt off him and bearing down on his angel again. Castiel was the one now in awe, as he felt the firm planes of his chest against his palms. He smiled, something neither of them did much. And from deep within him, Dean could feel a twanging at his gut, a pull of release like he was about to fly. In amazement, he stared up at tousled feathers, wings the same size as Castiel's protruding from his shoulder blades. However, unlike his, Dean's were pure white and pearlescent, perfect and soft but with a jagged edge. They wrapped round them both like Cas' wings, a fusion of each other's wrapped up and enfolded together like they're bodies were. Dean stared at the angel in question and shock.
'You become part of my soul, Dean, and I become part of yours.'
'Does this mean I can fly around like Batman?'
'I'm not sure who you're talking about, but no. You can't fly. You can't do anything with them. They will keep inside your soul, invisible. For now, they are in full size.'
He smiled, gaze sweeping over his feathers and settling back to Cas.
'I have an angel on my shoulder.' He said proudly, grinning.
'What?'
'Rocky.'
'Who is...Rocky?' He asked.
Dean shook his head. 'Never mind.'
His lips locked his again, and a flood of warmth rushed over them as their wings enclosed tightly together.