Castiel sat at another simple table in another simple hotel room. Sam had gone out for a run, leaving Dean cleaning weapons on the bed.
Cas watched Dean carefully. He memorized each skillful movement of his hands as he fixed, cleaned, and loaded gun after gun. Looking closely, the metal of the weapons reflected Dean's crystal green eyes. Not that Dean noticed, no, he was absorbed into his work. Cas, on the other hand, noticed completely. Not that he needed to see them to know exactly what shade of green of they were or the way they crinkled ever so slightly when he examined his work. Castiel watched Dean's hands as he cleaned knives. He yearned to grab Dean's rough, calloused hands like he had before, raising him from perdition. Cas softly bit his bottom lip. If he was going to tell Dean, it would be now. Sam was gone, they were alone. He wrung his hands, he had hoped Dean would have remembered during these years. He had not been lucky. Cas cleared his throat. "Dean." This brought no response from Dean, who was still busy preparing for the next hunt. "Dean." Cas called a little louder.
"Mmm?" Was the preoccupied response.
"I, uh, listen. Can we talk?"
This got more of a response.
"Um, yeah sure Cas. Hit me," said Dean, putting down the gun he was fixing.
Castiel walked across the cheap motel room and sat down across from Dean. This close, Cas dreamed of holding Dean's hands like he had before, softly grazing his lips over Dean's; but this was not the time. Dean had to remember. He would remember.
It started several years ago, Castiel sat in the heaven of a man hed come to love. Cas always enjoyed the happiness of this kite-flying man. That's when he heard it over the angel radio. "Dean Winchester is lost." Castiel had heard of these Winchester brothers. They were important, or at least, Dean was. The angels kept a steady eye on him and losing him could mean only one thing. Hell. Castiel flew quickly to his superiors awaiting orders.
"Castiel." An older angel barked at him. "I want to send you to retrieve Dean Winchester."
"Why?" asked Cas. He wasn't exactly the most trustworthy angel around. Surely there was someone else more willing to follow exact orders.
"This job, it could be very dangerous. We might lose the rescue team...for good."
Now he understood. If Castiel could retrieve the boy, mission accomplished; but if he failed and died in the process, no harm done. As he could not see a way out of this, Cas agreed to raise this Winchester from Hell.
He had heard stories of this unknown man. He was brave, and rough, the best damn hunter anyone had ever seen- but most importantly, he was supposed to fulfill the prophecy. This Dean Winchester had a higher purpose. Heaven even celebrated when his parents were matched. Since the beginning of time people had been paired to create the genetic offspring that is Dean. Whatever this man was destined to do, it was seriously important.
Castiel knew this was a very serious job, and that being chosen for it, even as a grunt, was sort of an honor. If he could save Dean from perdition, maybe the higher angels would forgive his past mistakes.
Getting to Hell wasn't exactly fun. Castiel dove straight in, with a little power boost from above. Hell was no place for angels. His wings burnt and sizzled, and he could feel himself draining. All around him souls beat against iron doors begging Castiel to help them, screaming that they didn't belong. The worst part was knowing that many of them didn't. Their burnt and cut faces wailed in agony, their lifeless eyes bore through his skull. Cas knew he had to get out quickly. He was there for one man, and one man only- Dean Winchester.
The angel searched up and down every hall, analyzing faces and screams to find his mission. Then it hit him, for such an important soul there must be a special place. Turning down what seemed like millions of halls, Cas thought this might be his own personal Hell. Countless Demon guards flew at him - an angel in Hell? Crowley would surely need to hear of this - but never faltered Castiel destroyed every last one. Finally he found it. He didn't know how he knew, he just felt it. In front of him stood a large door, chained tight all over as if to keep something in. It was rusted and looked incredibly heavy, though it didn't look like it had been opened in years. "Best to go in undetected," Cas thought to himself. He flew into the room and disguised himself. He was not prepared for the scene he beheld.
There in the center of the room lay a helpless soul, strapped down tight to a bed in front of a table full of needles, knives, clubs, every weapon imaginable- and there stood Dean. This Dean was not the man he was told of. This Dean had dead eyes filled with rage. As he slid a rusty knife into the rib cage of this soul he smiled as dark, disturbed smile. His face was covered in blood, and not his own. He laughed as he swiftly chopped a finger off his victim. This Dean blossomed on screams and pain. This Dean took his time with torture and enjoyed every second. This Dean was not a hero. Castiel couldn't handle it anymore; he un-cloaked himself. "Dean Winchester?" He called. Dean leaned in close to his tortured soul and whispered in their ear, "Just a minute, sweetie." He smiled that awful smile and slid a needle of god knows what into their neck, soaking in their screams. He spun on his heels staring Cas dead on. "WHAT?!" He yelled. "I'm a bit busy at the moment, but if you'll just take a number, babe." He filled each word with enough poison to kill. He tilted his head and frowned. "No," he said thoughtfully. "You're not from around here. Who are you? You sure as Hell don't look like a demon to me."
"My name is Castiel," Cas said not missing a beat, he was not going to let this little human intimidate him. After all, he was more powerful than Dean, or any human for that matter. "I'm here to raise you from perdition."
Dean scoffed. "Oh, suddenly I'm a damsel in distress now, huh?" He spat. "Save it, Castiel, and leave before I get the hellhounds."
"I do not need your permission, Dean Winchester," Castiel stated. "Heaven has a higher purpose for you than destroying these poor souls for eternity."
"Me? Sorry, sweet, you've got the wrong guy." Dean returned to his victim and yanked the needle out of their neck. "I think I'll stay. Besides," he grinned that sickening toothy grin. "We're just starting to have fun." Dean slammed the knife into the soul's heart leaving them sputtering for breath, blood pouring out of their mouth. Finally the poor being choked its last handful of air. It faded away from the table. "NEXT!" Dean called out. Within a second another fresh soul took center stage. "Well, well, well. You ready to have fun? ARE YOU STILL HERE?" Dean screamed at Cas, removing his attention from his victim.
"I'm not leaving without you, Winchester. I have my orders." With a flash, Cas appeared at Dean's side and gripped his shoulder to pull him up. Even Cas could feel flesh sizzle at his touch. Dean cried out, "Damn it! What is this?!" He tried to pull away but it was already too late, Castiel and Dean were flying away from Hell with no chance to go back. "Get off of me!" Dean called. "I swear to god-"
"Please do not use my father's name in vain. I already dislike you. Do not make it worse."
Dean gave a stare of disbelief. Who did this fluffy winged ass think he was? Dean and Castiel flew for what seemed like a solid day straight up and out of the Pit. Slowly the heat of Hell drifted away and the two arrived at the pearly gates. Castiel could not believe that he had completed possibly one of the most important jobs in angel history by himself. He could not contain his enthusiasm when he shouted out to everyone, "Dean Winchester is saved!"
Being that Castiel was the one to save him, he had to finish the job and reassemble Dean's soul. Never had he seen such a corrupted soul, one who had fought through so much pain and then inflicted it onto others. He knew this was going to be a long process, but he just didn't know where to start.
Castiel and Dean sat in a small white room. It seemed comfortable enough with some chairs, a couch, and a little table full of pie. "So," Cas began. "Pie?" Dean stared at him, untrusting. "Come on, I know pie is your favorite. We've been watching you for quite some time now." Dean did not make a move. He just kept staring at Castiel, as if he was trying to unravel him in his mind.
"Angels, huh?" He said finally after an hour and a half of staring.
"That is correct."
"Bull."
"Uh. Excuse me?"
"I said, bull. Ghosts I get, monsters I get, hell, I even get demons. But angels?" He scoffed. "Nah, that's too far."
"Well, I'm here. You're here. This is Heaven. How else would you explain it?" Dean looked at him for another long while. His unwavering monotone expression was beginning to make Cas feel uncomfortable. "Pie?" He offered again.
"Why not?" Dean said as he grabbed a slice. "Mmmmm. Haven't had food in years. And this pie? Mmmm." Dean involuntary gave a small smile. The angel was surprised. This smile was pure bliss in a broken soul. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. But he shook his head. This man, grand as the stories were, was nothing to him. He had just witnessed this man destroy an innocent soul for the pure pleasure. Dean was not a good guy.
"Castiel, right?" Dean said between bites. "How'd you get roped into saving my sorry ass?"
"It was not my choice. I have my orders." Cas must have said this quite harsh because dean threw his hands back defensively.
"Sorry, man. Just wondering. So what now? Snap your fingers and I get to go home?"
"No. Your soul is still damaged. If I sent you back now you would not hold up."
Dean looked impatient now. "Alright. So fix me up, doc. I got stuff to do, people to see."
"It's not that simple. It's going to take time."
"It's going to take time," Dean repeated under his breath. He slammed the plate down on the table, shattering it. "YOU KNOW WHAT TOOK TIME? BEING IN HELL FOR YEARS! I'VE BEEN TORTURED IN WAYS YOU CAN'T IMAGINE! NOW SEND BACK TO MY DAMN LIFE, CASITEL!"
Cas sat unmoved. "No."
"NO?!"
"No."
Dean's anger faded into pain. "Do you know what I'm missing back home? I've got a baby brother who needs me, Castiel. I have to get back. Sammy needs me."
Cas saw the longing in his eyes. Everything he had ever heard about Dean all lead back to one thing- his devotion to Sam. If there was anything that would break this man, it was his brother. Cas could only imagine the ways he had been tortured with his brothers image. Regardless of what he had just seen, he hurt for Dean.
"Alright. There is your motivation then. The sooner we can fix you, the quicker you can get to your brother." For a second, Cas thought he saw a glimmer of hope shine through those dead, pale, green eyes.
It had taken Castiel about six days to get Dean calmed from his time in hell. Between the screaming, and punching, and the smashing everything in sight, Cas was losing hope in fixing this man with the dead green eyes. But suddenly, something changed within him. It seemed as though Dean just gave up. For two days he sat, unmoving staring at Cas. Cas of course rambled on attempting to make conversation, to help him mend his broken soul.
"Dean?" He said for the thousandth time that day. "You're safe here. I just want to help you. You're no use to heaven or your brother if you can't live a normal life."
"Yeah," Dean grumbled out. The first words he'd said in three days. "How do we fix this?" His eyes looked up, brimmed with tears, pleading.
Cas was stunned. He had never seen this side of Dean. He was vulnerable and soft. He needed help, and Cas was gonna give it to him.
"Okay," Cas began. "It's going to be a bit of a process..."
The room was filled again with yells and tears, but now only because Cas was helping. The process of mending a soul was painful. Everyday Cas would slide his hand up through Dean's ribs to smooth a section of the disastrous soul. His soul was so destroyed from his time in Hell, the process could last weeks, maybe months. When he finished the two would talk.
"You know, when I was younger, my dad was never really there for us. So Sammy? Well, he's the only thing I really had going for me. I take care of him. He had this great thing going with his girlfriend, Jess, but dad needed him- I needed him. I pulled him away. I don't know why I did it. It was awful for him."
"No, Dean." Cas took his hand gently. "You did what you had to do. Besides, the prophecy states that you and Sammy need to be togeth-"
"Screw your prophecy, Castiel," Dean said as he pulled his hand away. "I did it because I was selfish. Sammy had a good thing going."
Cas had seen this before. It seemed the more he fixed him, the more broken he became. He knew the best thing to do was to ease up and let Dean take control of the conversation. A few minutes passed before he spoke again. "Hunters can't stop being hunters." Castiel was about to question what he meant, but Dean beat him to it. "Hunters don't get to leave the life and have a family. No one gets to just go to the market on Saturdays and walk the dog every morning. Hunters always have to work. And as long as you don't think about, it's a good life. Saving people, hunting things...but when you stop to think about it, or when you meet someone you're falling in love with-" Dean's eyes darted experimentally to Cas before looking down again, "-you start to hate it. You get tired. You just want to leave this stupid life, but you know you can't."
Cas' hands itched to touch Dean and reassure him everything would be okay. His lips yearned to taste Dean's. Cas could picture himself running his hands through Dean's hair.
"It's alright," Cas told him, staying completely unmoving so he wouldn't run the chance of scaring him away. "Hunting is what you were meant to do. Always."
Dean looked at Castiel like he was looking right through him. "I know, prophecy, right?" He paused. "Look, Castiel, I know you're working your hardest, but we've been at this for weeks. When am I going to be ready?"
To tell the truth, Cas had been taking his time to keep Dean by his side. He had grown on him. There was something about how his eyes, once cold and dead, had become shining green embers; or how his brow wrinkled when he was thinking really hard about what to say next, making sure to get every word right. Cas thought- no, he must be letting his own feelings get the better of him- he thought he saw Dean looking at him like...like...no, Cas couldn't let himself think that way. Noticing Castiel's long stare Dean asked again, "Castiel. When can I go home?"
"Yes right. Well," Cas stalled. If he played his cards right he could keep Dean for a little while longer. "Any day now really. We just have to be sure to work out the bugs, double check my work." That was partly true. Cas knew his work was flawless, but if I meant keeping this green eyed human with him for even a few more hours, it was worth it.
Dean let out a sigh of relief. A huge smile spread across his face. "I could kiss you right now, buddy!" Castiel face froze. "W-what?"
Dean clapped his shoulder, "it's an expression, dude."
"Oh," Cas said. He tried not to seem disappointed. He even added in a small smile to further his point.
"You alright, dude?" Dean asked. "You look a little...I don't know...off?"
"I am perfectly fine, Dean Winchester. " Cas smiled at Dean, but inside he was more than a little broken. He had let his feelings get in the way of his job, and he knew what he had to do. "In fact, if we hurry, we might be able to get you home tonight even."
Dean's smile dropped a little, "Wow, man, that's, uh, that's great. But you know, I, uh, I wouldn't want to rush anything and end up with a broken mind, you know? I could spare a day or two more. I've waited this far right?" Dean let out a small laugh, but his eyes scanned Castiel's questioningly, nervously.
"Dean, there's no need for more waiting. As you said, you've waited this far, it would not be fair to you or Sam to keep you longer than necessary. Besides it really is no trouble at-" Castiel was cut off by Dean's mouth pressed against his. Cas was taken back at first. He had never expected Dean to reciprocate his feelings. Soon Cas was melting into Dean's lips. He ran his fingers through Dean's hair, getting a pleasurable reaction from him. He tasted like tears and salt, but also hope and love. Dean pressed his hand into the small of Castiel's back pulling him closer into the embrace. They fit together seamlessly, their mouths working together in unison. Finally Dean pulled away running his fingers through his hair. "Shit. Sorry man I didn't, I wasn't-" Cas placed his hands of Dean's collar.
"Hey," he said softly. Not saying anymore he gently pulled the human back in and kissed him once. It's was a sweet, light kiss. Though small it conveyed all of Castiel's love and Dean knew it.
"Cas, I..." He trailed off.
"You've never called me that before," Cas noted.
"Shit, again sorry man, I'm really just-"
"I like it." Cas smiled brightly, feeling more fond of this man than ever before. He finally felt real love.
They spent the rest of their time in heaven much like that afternoon. Gentle touches and soft kisses. Cas showed Dean some of his favorite spots, leaving out his favorite heaven. Dean would tell Cas everything he loved about those places. How the sun felt especially warm; how the light of this world lit Cas' eyes up one million times brighter; how he could feel the happiness radiate off of the creator's soul. Cas fell more and more in love with the Winchester with every word he spoke. It was as if he was reading his mind, pointing out the things Cas thought he would only notice. He thought that if he could have his own Heaven, it would be filled with Dean. It would be a world where his love would never have to leave him. But Cas knew it could never be, and that Dean had to leave soon.
So on the last day, Cas took Dean to his favorite spot. That sunny afternoon with the sunny old man.
"Jesus," Dean breathed. "You've been holding out on me Cas! This is the best place yet." He took Cas' hand in his. "It almost makes me feel like dancing." He spin Cas around and wrapped him in an embrace. There they danced under the warm sun, almost all alone in the park. Cas smiled and laughed into Dean's shoulder. They didn't need any music. Their heartbeats were more than enough. Dean spun Cas around and around, occasionally lifting him off his feet, getting laughs and squeals of joy from his love. As naturally as they had started, the dance swirled to a stop leaving their faces buried in the necks and shoulders of each other.
"Lets stay here forever," Dean murmured into Cas' shoulder. Cas breathed in his rough yet familiar scent. He wanted to tell Dean yes, they could stay here forever. Dancing and kissing under the sun for the rest of eternity. He hugged him tight before he pulled away slightly. Hands resting on Dean's perfect hips, he stared deeply into his eyes. "I love you, Dean."
"I love you too, angel."
"Here, sit down."
The two men sat on the soft grass facing each other. Dean held Cas' hands gently, casually running his thumbs over Cas' knuckles.
"What's wrong?" Dean's worried stare nearly pushed Cas to tears. Cas took too long to answer. "Babe?" Dean insisted.
Cas looked up at him with tear brimmed eyes and a small smile. "It's time to get you back."
Cas could see Dean pretending not to break. He had gotten to know this man extremely well over the last months, too well to be fooled by his act. "But you'll be fine. I'll come back to you. "
Dean smiled, but Cas could tell he was afraid of losing his angel. "Promise?" He said almost too quietly for Cas to hear. His voice cracked.
"Promise." Cas replied as he squeezed Dean's hand.
They sat there holding each others hands, saying their momentary good-byes, and whispering promises to never forget each other for hours until Cas said it really was time for Dean to return. His soul left reluctantly, but when it did Cas went to work rebuilding his body.
Cas went to work immediately rebuilding the body he had come to love. He started by re-sculpting his hands. Making sure to include every wrinkle, every callous, kissing a few freckles on his wrist. He made sure each hand knew to work together to grab and hold. He made them perfect to match Cas'.
He molded his feet. The way each toe crinkled when Cas got too close to them, tickling them with his fingertips. He made them strong enough to carry Dean and all he would have to do. He made sure they could move in perfect rhythm so he could dance and spin like they once had with Cas.
He created his legs to match what he had once known. He shaped them to perfectly allow Cas' grip as he places his hands on his thighs in a loving but claiming gesture. He made sure they were as strong as his will.
Cas re-made Dean's chest. He traced it up and down with his finger the way he had while with him. Doubled checking that every ridge was right where it was before. He kisses more freckles back where they had been. He filled Dean's heart with love for his brother, Bobby, and everyone else that Dean had shared with him during their time in Heaven. He included a special space for the love they shared.
Cas worked on Dean's face. He made Dean's lips perfectly for his own. Kissing them every so often to check their shape. He made them remember how they moved against Cas'. He shifted his nose around until it was a perfect image of how it once was. He replaced the way it crinkled slightly when he smiled. Cas kisses millions of freckles down his nose and across his cheeks. He framed Dean's deep emerald eyes with strong brows and eyelashes that fluttered so beautifully when he blinked. Cas shined his eyes until they looked bright and in love as they once had. Cas didn't need to pull too many memories to get the color of his love's eyes. He had stared into them often and remembered every shade they had ever been. He placed Dean's hair down strand by strand until it was the perfect mess of hair he loved. Cas ran his hands through it, making Dean's scalp remember the way Cas' hands fit perfectly through it as he drew him closer and deeper into their kiss.
Finally Cas finished. He kisses more freckles onto any inch of skin he might have missed. He placed his hand down on Dean's shoulder as he had done in Hell, burning his print into Dean as a constant reminder of their time together. Cas stood back to admire his work. Declaring that it was good, he let Dean roam the earth once more.
Sitting on the opposite bed DeN stared into Cas' eyes. Cas drew his gaze away. "I suppose I knew deep down that you would not remember our time," Cas muttered. "But I still hoped. Every day."
There was a long silence. Cas began to worry that perhaps this was a bad idea. Perhaps Dean was never meant to remember, what was gone should stay gone. He swallowed hard not knowing what to say next. His mind raced through the different ways Dean would reject him. There could be fighting. He may laugh and tell Cas to quit joking. Dean could even decide that they shouldn't be friends anymore. Cas didn't know how he would deal with that.
"Cas...I," Dean managed. He paused again. His brow crinkled, trying to pick the perfect words to say next. "I don't remember any of that."
Cas inhaled sharply to stop himself from crying. He squeezed his own hands together in an effort to keep his tears in. He tried to say it was okay, but his throat was closed.
"But," Dean contined. "That doesn't mean I don't want to spend every second trying."
Cas snapped his attention back up to Dean. His love was smiling the eye crinkling smile he hasn't seen since Heaven. Slowly Dean leaned forward. After all these years, Cas' work had paid off. Their lips fit together perfectly.
