Hello everyone!
This is the story I and imadreamysoul (on Ao3) have written for the 2k18 DeanCasMiniBang Challenge, with the cooperation of our assigned artist, ShadowPaintedRose (you can find her both on Tumblr and Ao3).
While this is a case fic, the focus mostly stays on the introspection side. We thought that the changes that take place in the characters' demeanour, Dean's in particular, and in the their interactions after Castiel's return have been a bit too rushed. So, this is our attempt at expanding and exploring said shifts!
It's been quite an adventure, but it was worth it. We truly hope that you will enjoy the outcomes of your work!
You can find the link to all the art related to the story on Tumblr, on our artist's blog! Please check out her artist's work. She makes some very nice artworks!
Also, just for the record, we split the story in two parts, to make it easier to read!
Questions and comments of every sort (as long as we respect each other) are welcome and encouraged. Feedback is gold for inspiration!
Enjoy!
Full Summary:
Immediately following 13x05. The Winchesters just received the most unexpected of the calls and now their life is on the verge of undergoing another, perhaps just as radical change.
After losing his mother and his best friend, Dean found himself in a very dark place, unable to share Sam's stubborn hope that Mary might be alive and refusing to mourn Castiel. He's been stuck between trying to cope with their losses, with the aid of unhealthy amounts of alcohol, and being unable to hold back his anger issues, of which Sam and Jack have become the unlucky main targets.
The reunion with the angel, while, on one hand, shines a fresh ray of hope on the boys' path, on the other puts a spotlight on the mistakes made in the previous weeks and brings up issues that have been ignored and avoided for too long. Cas is determined to reconnect with Jack and try to fix the relationship between Dean and the nephilim, together with helping his best friend to heal. This assuming that he can get through the older hunter first. Because getting Dean Winchester to talk about his feelings can turn out to be as hard as stopping the umpteenth apocalypse.
Could a possible, spooky-looking case offer the chance to break the impasse?
"Hello Dean…"
Those two syllables had been enough to strike a new, weak but still bright spark inside Dean, a shaky hint of the same hope that had died in the dirt, together with the life of the only best friend he had ever had. The same hope he had thought that he would never feel again, just as he had believed that nothing would have ever been able to give him the chance to hear that voice once more. His body had moved on its own and a moment later the Impala was making a sudden, curt U-turn, tires screeching against the asphalt. What had followed, minutes or hours, he couldn't have said, had been a haze of landscape rushing by and frantic thoughts.
The last few days - or maybe weeks, Dean wasn't even aware of how much time had passed - had been a complete roller coaster for the hunter. His emotions had drifted between endless sadness, troubled anger and a cold emptiness. He had experienced grief before. He knew the feeling far too well, considering all the people he and Sam had lost since when they should have been too young to understand the real meaning of mourning. This time, though, something had been different. This time all the hope and the determination had disappeared in the same moment when his best friend's life had faded away. For the very first time in his existence, the older Winchester felt like there was no way to fix the situation, that everything was lost. Hopelessness wasn't a new for him either, but the feeling had never been so utter, deep and cutting.
Dean had learnt since the very start that he and Sam lived a very risky life, full of dangers, a life in which you were fated to lose most of the people you loved, so the deaths had eventually stopped surprising him. They still hurt, yes, but he had learnt to expect them to happen, one way or another. Had learnt that everyone left, sooner or later. It was the inescapable price they had to pay for their choices.
However, this time it had been very different. These losses? They had shook his whole world. Their mother, who just came back from the dead, was gone once again, was out of reach, trapped in another, broken reality with Lucifer of all people. She was gone, like a miracle that had burnt out before it could even start to feel real. Crowley, probably their best and worst ally, was dead and it was just so bitterly ironic thinking about how many times he had wished that the fucking demon would just die and stop being a pain in their ass. The same demon who, at the end of the day, had perhaps gone out looking like more of a hero than the hunter himself was. And Castiel...The best friend they could ever ask for, the only stable thing in their life was lost too, for good. How was anything supposed to work after that? Dean had no idea and hadn't even tried to look for an answer. He never did. He had always had his own ways to deal with stuff, more or less effective and pretty much destructive, but none of what he had tried had seemed to work. Not this time.
The hunter's breath hitched slightly against his will, the quiet sound seeming far too loud despite the roaring of the engine. Even though he had managed to keep it more or less under control, at least if you asked him, because Sam would have surely disagreed, he had still welcomed his good old friend with open arms -alcohol . It was always the best, and also the easiest, thing to do, to lose himself in the liquor and in the oblivion it offered. Booze helped him to stop feeling the sorrow and the sadness, to forget, even if only for a moment, and it also was a perfect remedy for all the sleepless nights that had come back to haunt him. He chose that way to numb the pain each time everything became too much to ignore, no matter how bad the mornings after could be. The truth was that he didn't really mind the hangover, the nausea and not even the vomiting, because from a twisted, masochistic point of view, being in pain was better than being constantly lost and apathetic.
His fingers tightened slightly around the wheel. The emptiness and the lost hope hadn't been the only consequences of what had happened. Dean had never been the calmest person. Rage had always been his first reaction in most situations, since he was just a bit more than a kid. It was a defensive mechanism he had developed to face the horror and the suffering that life had always shoved in his direction. However, this time his anger issues escalated to a point where they were almost out of control. And Sam, being the closest person to him, physically and emotionally, had soon, inevitably become the elected target of Dean's violent mood swings.
The older hunter knew that his brother was worried sick, not without reason, and sometimes felt bad for snapping at him. He realised, in the few moments of calm lucidity he still had, that it was unfair from his part. However, for the most he couldn't bring himself to care. Especially considering Sam's delusional and naive hope that their mother could be still alive, despite the hard facts. It annoyed the hell out of him, both because seeing his sibling being able to hope when he couldn't was like pouring salt on a open wound and because it made mourning Mary, for the second time, even harder than it should have been. How was he supposed to let her go, if he was constantly bugged with the idea that she could be saved? Even if he didn't agree, even if the thought was inconceivable to him, it still stuck in his head and burnt , adding ghosts to his already sleepless, tormented nights.
A frown formed on Dean's face at the thought. He would have been ready to consider that maybe Sam had been right, that maybe he shouldn't have seen everything in such dark colors and should have let his brother's optimistic attitude influence him a bit, if the younger man hadn't been pushing it too far. The kid, Jack, was the problem. The spawn of Lucifer , with his endless powers and the blood he had already spread the same day of his birth. A creature that should be leaking darkness from every pore, who did in Dean's eyes, but his brother seemed to be unable to see the reality of facts, just as he couldn't accept that their mother was lost. And his sibling, with his damned bleeding heart, hadn't just chosen to be blind, but he had also taken up the role of Jack's protective "uncle" Sam. There were so many wrong things in the picture that Dean didn't know where to start from.
Once again, though, there had been nothing for him to do. The older hunter had been forced to live under the same roof with the person who was responsible for the death of the most important people in his life. How was he supposed to deal with that? He hadn't been able to stop himself from blaming the nephilim for every bad thing that had happened around them, even if, deep, deep down, he had understood that Jack was more of a victim than a guilty party. Maybe he, Dean fucking Winchester, was the real monster there, the weak, broken man who was using the poor boy as a scapegoat because the guilt was too heavy for him to bear.
That thought got stuck in his head for a moment, just as his breath got caught in his throat once again. What if Jack hadn't lied to Cas? And if Kelly had been right? What if Sam wasn't as delusional as he thought he was? If his brother was able to see what he couldn't see because he wasn't blinded by rage and regret? If that had been true, then he would have been such an unfair asshole to everyone. Not that it was news, but this time it would have been much worse. It would have meant that he had acted selfishly and shut everything out right when he had been needed the most. How would he have found the courage to meet his sibling's and best friend's eyes ever again, knowing that he had, for the umptheenth time, made the wrong choice just because he hadn't been strong enough to keep a grip on his reality? And, speaking of Castiel…He would be so deeply disappointed with him, knowing how he had treated the boy. Damn, if the kid had chosen to turn dark side, he would have had himself to blame for it, at least in part, because he had pushed him away, sticking in his head the idea that he had to be evil, just because he had the king of the sons of a bitch as a father. So much for doing the right thing.
The hunter's eyes focused back on the road as he realised that he had missed the turn he was supposed to take. He muttered a curse under his breath and saw Sam shifting with the corner of his eye. His shoulder tensed immediately, afraid that his brother would say something and use the pretext to start a conversation he wasn't ready to have, but luckily the younger hunter, perhaps guessing that it wasn't the right moment, remained quiet and Dean found that he could suddenly breathe a bit better once again.
He and Sam, while sharing the same stubborn bad tendency to keep their issues for themselves, had completely different ways to go around things most of the times. The older Winchester was often annoyed by his sibling's constant need to talk about more or less everything, but he was also glad that the other knew when it was better for him to shut up and let him be. That was yet another way in which his brother showed himself to be much more capable to deal with the shit that happened to them than he was. Not that Dean would ever admit it out aloud.
The older hunter shook his head slightly, sucking in a quiet breath. While he had been half lost in his thoughts, they had got closer and closer the outskirts of the town where Castiel had said he was and, now that his mind was finally starting to focus back on reality, he was starting to realise how nervous he felt. The feeling was like a grip just above the pit of his stomach, a mixture of uncertainty and lingering dread. Even after hearing that voice, the one he would have recognised among a thousand others, he still was having a hard time believing that it was true, that he had his best friend back. A part of him was trying to make him wonder about how it was possible, but he couldn't bring himself to really give a damn. Blessing or curse, deal or gift, he would take it, no matter the price. They would pay it, one way or the other. Because, after all, this might be the sign he had been waiting for.
He licked his lips, finding them as dry as his throat felt. That was where his certainty ended and the doubts and insecurities started. Castiel's return could be what would prove everything he had done since the angel's death wrong, shoving all the consequences and the guilt on him just as he feared. However, that was hardly what he was worried about. He was used to bear the weight of the world on his shoulders, literally even. The problem was that he couldn't tell how exactly he felt about the news. He was happy, of course, in a weird, shaky, disbelieving way, but the emotions that the thought brought to him were simply too intense. He was too drained, too hollowed, too unstable to handle them. He felt like he would have crumbled into pieces if he had forced himself to think about what was about to happen. Paradoxically, he felt almost more scared than eager, despite his first reaction to the call having been turning his Baby around and rush to meet his revived friend. He was scared that it would turn out to be a delusion of his fucked up, sleep-deprived mind. Scared that this one needed win wouldn't have fixed him, as he hoped, as he prayed it would. Scared that seeing Castiel alive would be as intense as seeing him dead, because he knew that he couldn't have taken it.
He bit the inner side of his cheek. There was something else that heavied his mind, even if he had tried not to think about it. He had achieved it easily before the call, because the emptiness and the anger had prevailed over anything else, but now that the loss he had experienced might have not been as complete as he had been led to believe, it was harder to ignore. Castiel, was, together with Sam, the most important person in his life. He had expected the pain, he had expected the guilt, he had expected to feel like a piece of his soul had been ripped out. He had gone through that loss already. It was hardly the first time the angel had ended up dead. He had lost his brother a few times too. And yet, his reaction had been different, this time. Perhaps it was the knowledge that there was nothing he could do to get him back, perhaps it was the fact that he had lost so much all together. Still, there had been a new, obscure feeling in the mix. A peculiar kind of regret, the one that came with the loss of those once-in-a-lifetime chances, the one that told you that you had waited too long and lost that moment you've been waiting since forever. He couldn't wrap his mind around it, or maybe he didn't want to, and the feeling confused the hell out of him.
He slowed down a bit as they finally entered the town. The impulse to rush at all speed was still strong and present, despite the heavy emotions that were storming inside him, but he ignored it. He just wished for some closure, to find something that could finally allow him to get back on his feet. He didn't need another crisis, or any kind of epiphany that could shake his world yet again. He wanted the stability he had never really had in his life and he needed it, even just temporary, to put up with everything that had happened and with what was waiting ahead of them.
He almost laughed at the idea. He knew that he was asking for the moon, because he didn't deserve anything close to it, but he was also aware that he couldn't go on as he had been doing in the last years. He couldn't keep standing always on the edge, torn between the exhilaration of the risk and the fear of the fall. The small blinks of light in the darkness that mostly reigned over his life weren't enough anymore, hadn't been for a long time. He needed someone to come and shine a beacon over him, to chase the shadows of his nightmares because his strength wasn't enough anymore, especially if he wanted to keep fighting for Sam too, as he had always done. And yet, he wasn't sure he would be able to deal with the way that saving ray of light could have presented itself. It would have been too troublesome, it could have required him to change his view more than he was ready to do.
Sam shifted again next to him and he realised that his brother was looking out for the names of the streets. The blue glow of a cross-shaped neon lamp was casting a weird hue all around, making the dim light look almost unnatural, as if it was part of a dreamscape and not of the real world.
The realisation hit him as a punch in the stomach and he instinctively slowed the car down even more. They had arrived. There was no more time for thoughts and hesitation. He would have to take whatever would come to him and make it be enough . No matter the terms, the cost, the unwanted meanings.
As soon as the Impala came to a stop, Dean was out of the car, not wanting to waste any more time, despite the doubts still lingering in the back of his mind. His feet carried him forward, almost without his consent, and he stopped few meters away from the angel, staring at the man carefully for a moment, collecting himself.
Castiel looked…good, considering that the last time Dean saw him he had been very dead . He couldn't forget or chase away that image of his friend, lying lifeless on the ground, from his mind. He probably would have never been able to get the picture out if his head, not even now that the angel seemed to have come back to them, not completely at least. He had seen him like that every time he had closed his eyes, every single day. Getting rid of a similar nightmare would take time. After all, he still had visions of his time in Hell, even if those episodes were rare nowadays. Yet, seeing Castiel alive and well felt as if a giant burden had been taken off his chest. It made breathing much easier. He had almost forgotten that it wasn't supposed to feel as if he was choking more or less every time the air entered his lungs. Better to focus on that sensation.
He blinked, realising that he had once again got lost in his thoughts. The fact made him feel like an idiot, but he discarded it quickly. Maybe Castiel being back wouldn't magically fix all their problems, because there was no way that a single thing, no matter how wonderful, could delete the damage made during half of a lifetime, but it was a damn good start. It was a big win and Dean was determined to treat it as such.
"Cas, is that really you?" The hunter eventually breathed out, even though he could already tell who was standing in front of him. He would have recognized him anywhere. He didn't really need a confirmation, despite the part of his mind that couldn't help thinking that it was too good to be true. It was a small voice he knew very well, an ever-present traitorous whisper that always made itself known whenever something apparently positive happened, pushing him to think either that it wouldn't last or that something else, worse than what had happened before, would ruin it. However, for the most, he found that he had asked the question just because wanted to hear Castiel's voice again. All the emotions he was feeling were becoming a booming chaos and were driving him crazy.
He wasn't exactly sure of how to act, so he let his instinct guide him. After all, if there was a trait of his personality that no one would ever be able to deny, it was that he was an impulsive person. That characteristic had put him in troubles plenty of times, but it had also saved his life and helped him find a solution just as often. He trusted his guts, more than he trusted his head most of the time. Besides, instinct had always been able to lead him when his reason couldn't.
"No. You're - you're dead," Sam gasped out in complete shock, not believing his eyes. He was very happy to see their best friend alive and back with them again, but he also knew, as well as Dean did, that in their life good things didn't come without a price. Castiel's sudden resurrection brought forth many questions in Sam's head and, while they demanded an answer, the younger hunter wasn't completely sure that he wanted one. They had already too much to deal with in that moment. More problems would just exasperate an already too complicated situation.
"Yeah, I was. But then I annoyed an ancient cosmic being so much that he sent me back," Castiel explained softly and calmly, walking over to them and looking pretty proud of himself as he spoke.
He offered Sam a small and reassuring smile. He understood that it was an odd situation for them all. He had been utterly confused too when he had woken up in the Empty and he still had some troubles wrapping his head around the fact that he had actually succeeded in regaining his freedom, but it wasn't important in his eyes. What mattered was that he had made it back to the people he cared about and who needed his help.
Sam shifted slightly on his spot. He didn't want the angel to take it the wrong way, to think that he wasn't delighted to have him back, but he was at loss of words. The reply their friend had offered said everything and nothing. It answered his main inner question, the "how", but it didn't explain anything at all. They had faced plenty of situations that made little to no sense, but in that moment everything was so uncertain and edgy that, despite his will to believe and be optimistic, he would have rather having something more solid and understandable he could cling on.
"I don't even know what to say," he confessed after a moment of silence. It wasn't the answer he would have wanted to give, it made him feel a bit bad too, but it was the honest truth.
Dean groaned internally and had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at his brother's hesitant reaction. So now Sam decided to be reasonable and sceptical? After having tried so hard and for so long to convince Dean that their mother could still be alive and that they could be able to save her? After they had fought over and over on his sibling's belief that Lucifer's child could turn out to be a good person? Now that they were facing something that was without doubt a good thing, no matter the consequences, one they could agree on, Sam was being suspicious? There were so many things that get on his nerves about the fact, but he chose not to dwell on the younger man's behaviour. He wouldn't allow such a stupid, meaningless detail to ruin their reunion. So, instead of voicing his disapproval, Dean decided to ignore Sam and his inner irritation and to greet Castiel properly this time.
"I do," he claimed with force. "Welcome home, pal." And, completely sure and without any hint of hesitation, he walked over to Cas and pulled him into a hug. For the briefest moment, he seemed to lean in, as if he had been about to kiss Castiel's cheek, but he ended up just wrapping his arms around him tightly. However, he couldn't resist the temptation of burying his head in the crock of the angel's neck. It felt so easy and absolutely right to hold him in his arms now, considering that, till few hours earlier, he had been more than sure that he would have never got another chance to see the other again, let alone touch him.
Dean allowed his eyes to slide close for a moment. He was extremely aware of the emotions showing on his face, and he was infinitely grateful that there was no one else there to see him and that he was giving Sam his back, meaning that his brother wouldn't have been able to see his expression either. He knew that the younger man wouldn't have judged or even mentioned the fact, but he would have hated being more exposed than he already was. He was already having a hard time with all those damned feelings. Relief, lightness and happiness mixed with a bit of pain, agitation and confusion. However, for the moment, the negative sentiments were nothing compared to the bright, positive ones, so it was easy for him to push them aside, leaving them for a quieter, alone time, and, even though he tried his best to hide it, he couldn't fight back the soft smile that touched his lips.
The thought of the many problems still to be faced and of the still bleeding wounds hadn't left his mind, he hadn't forgotten about them. However, everything seemed lighter and easier with Castiel there, solid and real and alive, so very different from the ghostly figure that had haunted his mostly sleepless nights.
The awareness reminded him that he had never really told his best friend how important he was for him, how much his presence helped. He had known that for awhile and regretted not reminding it to the angel as often as the other most likely deserved. It had always been a huge lack from the hunter's part and a big mistake in the last period, considering how useless and powerless Castiel had been feeling while they were fighting Amara. It was the reason why he had accepted Lucifer's offer and one of the motivations that had made him choose to protect Kelly and Jack. The angel has always felt like he needed to prove himself and his value, that he had to redeem from his mistakes and he and Sam had never really tried to make him understand that he didn't need to do everything by himself. Perhaps, if they had, things would have been different. Maybe they could have spared some pain to them all.
'Why did I say pal, dammit?'
The question intruded in his thoughts, without notice, and echoed in his mind, for some reason he didn't really understand. He could tell that there was something in the word that didn't fit, as if it wasn't meant to define what Castiel was for him. It was reductive , he knew that, but that wasn't the reason why it sounded so out of place. He tried to give it some thought, but he couldn't wrap his head around it and let it go. That was the umpteenth thing he would have to keep for another moment, one that could be good for contemplation. Assuming that he wouldn't have gone back acting as he usually did and ignoring every single issue that had come to his mind in the last few hours. Avoiding problems had always been the easiest, most instinctive choice, even if at the end of the day it didn't really lead him anywhere.
When Dean finally let go of Castiel, it was Sam's turn to go for a hug. The younger hunter had chosen to push all his doubts and uncertainties and he was smiling a bit more, showing how genuinely happy he truly was. He had caught a glimpse of annoyance in his older brother's expression when he had acted so hesitantly and he had decided that, for the first time since they had lost everyone, he agreed with what had to have been the other hunter's thoughts. He was ruining a moment that should have been made of relief and joy. And if even Dean had been able to grasp that, despite all the dark moods his sibling had been sporting in the last weeks, then he shouldn't allow his own bad thoughts to get in the way either.
The smile on Sam's face brightened a bit. There was another fact that had to be considered. If the angel had come back, then why couldn't have others too? He had been hopeful for the whole time, had forced himself to be also because Dean had been anything but, and now that thought had made his optimistic view feel stronger and more real. He hadn't been deluding himself as he had been accused of doing. They had got Castiel back and it could have been taken as a sign. A sign that good could win again, that there was still hope for their mother, that Jack could be bright as Kelly was and as, according to what other angels had often implied, Lucifer himself had once been.
"How long was I gone?" Castiel asked once he was released, looking a bit overwhelmed but also guilty.
He had known that getting himself killed would have hurt the Winchesters to some extent, but he hadn't realised how bad it could have been. He had completely underestimated their reaction. And now he was starting to understand that, perhaps, he had never truly grasped how much he meant to the brothers. It had taken one glance at Dean to see that he had been wrong. In same moment when their gazes had met, he had noticed that there was something not right. He spotted a deep, consuming darkness in older hunter's eyes before Dean had been fully hit by the realisation that he was once again standing in front of him. That alone had made it all clear. Dean was very not fine, hadn't been for some time, and it was a "not fine" that Castiel had never seen before.
The enormity of his rushed choice had fell on his shoulders, as the umpteenth burden and regret he would carry with him till the day he would be annihilate and never wake up was dumped on him. The last thing he had ever wanted was to bring even more pain in his best friend's life, and yet that was what he had accomplished, against his will and despite all his best intentions.
"Too damn long," were the words that left the older Winchester's lips and they were also the strongest confirmation of Castiel's reflections.
The man spoke with innocent honesty, oblivious of the angel's thoughts, letting the words out as if they were the most natural thing to say. And yet there was also an evident note of pain and longing in his tone. For that reason, the hunter was tempted to avoid eye contact with his best friend at first, but he quickly discarded the idea. He knew that the angel could see right through him anyway, no matter how hard he tried to hide his feelings. Besides, denying and minimizing wasn't the right thing to do. He was happy that his best friend was back, so much that he couldn't describe it, and this time he wanted to make sure that Castiel would know that he had been dearly missed. He had had enough of keeping his emotions under strict control, of stopping himself from saying or doing the things he wanted to say and do, just to regret that choice later on. He had had enough of putting on different masks just to protect his masculinity or shield himself from his true feelings. Castiel deserved the truth as much as Dean deserved to be himself without being afraid. Afraid of things that, at the end of the day, didn't even matter.
The hunter felt a small shiver running down his spine. Maybe, that was why he had chosen, more or less consciously, to not really hide how bad Castiel's death hit him, not in the past weeks with Sam and not now with Castiel himself. To him, it had felt like the whole world had stopped making sense. Perhaps he should also try and start accepting the fact that it wouldn't be easy to pull himself back together again, even now that the empty space left behind by his best friend had been filled once again. This time, maybe, he wouldn't be able to fix himself without having to ask for help. He hated the mere thought, because of that pride that had always pushed him to walk on his own, even when it could have killed him. However, he was also aware that he would need to, if it came to that. Too much had been already lost and too much was still at stake. He couldn't afford to lose, not again.
"Where were you? In Heaven?" Sam continued to ask while Dean was deep in thoughts. He might have decided to keep his doubts at distance, but he was still curious. He knew that humans went to either Hell or Heaven when they died and that monsters went to Purgatory. But angels? It was a mystery. He would have been tempted to say that they just disappeared from existence, but the fact that their friend had come back from the dead more than once seemed to indicate that there was more to it.
Castiel shook his head. He had been expecting to have to offer explanations since when he had first woken up back on Earth. However, he wasn't sure that he had enough information to be able to satisfy the inquiries he would be asked. "No. No, I was in the Empty.
"Really?" Dean interjected. Hearing his brother's and the angel's voices had snapped him out of his thoughts and he had decided that it was better to join the conversation, instead of keep struggling with himself. Besides, now that he had finally overcome the initial emotional shock, he was getting rather worried about his best friend. Were had he been? What had happened to him? Was he really as okay as he looked?
"Apparently, it's where angels and demons go when they die," Castiel explained. Perhaps the definition was a bit too obvious, but he wouldn't have been able to add anything more. That was what the Entity had told him. The Entity had been hardly forthcoming. Not that the angel was surprised, considering that all it seemed to care about was to be able to stay asleep for the rest of eternity.
Sam nodded slightly. So there was yet another world. The knowledge didn't surprise him, not after they had found out that a probably endless number of parallel universes existed in the continuum. "What was it like?"
"Well, it's dark and empty. It's like...nothing." There weren't other words to describe the world Castiel had seen, in any of the languages the angel knew. It was just...empty, as its name suggested. "I was sleeping, and then I heard a voice saying my name, and I woke up. I thought you had done something."
The brothers looked quite shocked at the description and a bit moved too. This Empty did sound like a bad place. A very dark, very lonely place, devoid of life and light. A place for everything and everyone destined to disappear and eventually to be forgotten. It was a fate worse than death itself. Two pair of eyes, one hazel and one green, quickly scanned the angel's figure. At a superficial glance Castiel looked fine, but the Winchesters now knew better. They had spent enough time with their friend to understand that he had experienced something devastating, both by dying and by waking up in that empty afterlife, and that he would need his own time to heal too.
"No, we didn't even think we could bring you back," Dean stated, shaking his head. He tried to keep a steady, calm voice, but it quickly became obvious, even despite the small number of words he had spoken that he felt like it had been his fault in the first place.
They hadn't been able to bring Castiel back. He had tried, he was aware of it, but no matter how many times he had dared God himself, nothing had happened, till that moment. The fact of not having given up without trying, though, didn't make him feel any less guilty, especially since the angel had instantly believed that it had been their doing. It didn't feel right because the truth was that they had been prepared to let go, or at least that Sam had made peace with the idea while he had pretended to be capable of such a thing, while in truth he would have never been ready to take that step, not even in a thousand years. Still they had. They had even had burnt his body. They should have done more, tried harder or at least waited before deeming the mission impossible.
"So who was it? Chuck - Uh, God?" Sam asked, with a hint of suspicion in his voice.
Dean almost shot his sibling a glare at the question. Rationally he knew why the younger hunter kept pushing the subject, that they shouldn't leave such a big interrogative unsolved, but the truth was that he didn't really care as much as he should. Castiel was back, that was the core of the matter and the only part he wanted to consider. He didn't give a damn if it had been God's work or the Devil's.
It was the angel's turn to shake his head. He had had a hard time believe what he was about to say too, but, after all, starting from the mess that had been the Apocalypse, he had learnt that his Father wasn't omnipotent. "No, no. He has no power in the Empty…"
The older hunter raised an eyebrow slightly. It hadn't been them and apparently it hadn't been Chuck either. It couldn't have been a random demon because no creature of the Pit could do what God couldn't. Nor any angel for the same reason. Who was left? Amara perhaps?
"Well, then, who does?" He asked, even if he had the feeling that Castiel didn't have an answer.
A moment of thick silence passed and then it turned out that there was no need for the angel to reply because both Winchesters suddenly seemed to have the same revelation at the same time. Their reactions, though, were very different. Sam's eyes light up with understanding and a hint of awe, while Dean's widened in incredulous horror. It was the only plausible explanation.
"Jack," the younger hunter stated, voicing their shared thoughts, his tone expressing both the shock and the pride that were visible on his face. If that was true, then all he had chosen to believe in could be possible. He had the evidence that the nephilim could do more than just accidentally causing troubles and spreading blood, that the kid could be taught to be good and to do good, for himself and for the world. Just as Kelly had wanted and believed.
Dean, on his part, felt like his heart had just sunk into his stomach once again. All that time he had seen the boy as the responsible for Castiel's death and now it turned out that he had been his saviour instead? It couldn't be true. Or rather, it was very likely that it was, considering all the raw power that the kid had. Also, none of them were aware of other, as powerful beings, so Jack was pretty much the only option they hadn't ruled out. The fact that the hunter didn't want to believe it for his selfish reasons wouldn't change the reality of what had happened.
He hardly resisted the urge to hide his face in his hands. How was he supposed to meet the boy's eyes now? After all he had done and said to him? The guilt reached such a high level for a moment that he couldn't catch a proper breath. He felt so sick . Sick and disappointed in himself. What he had become? He had been so blinded by hate to be unable to even just consider that, maybe, all the negativity he saw in Jack was just a reflection of what he himself had inside. Of his mourning, of his pain. He had been so full of anger and sufferance that he had chosen not to allow hope to the kid, just because he himself felt like there was none left. This time he didn't even have the Mark of Cain to blame for his sudden fall into the darkness. He clenched his fists by his sides. Was he even worth the help he would need to get better? Assuming that such thing would be possible? He felt like a lost cause, one of those cases that not even a miracle could have saved.
"Uh, listen, why don't we get all in the dark and go back to the Bunker?" Sam interjected, interrupting the heavy silence that had fallen after he had spoken the nephilim's name.
The younger Winchester hadn't missed the way in which Dean's shoulders had tensed and he could picture very well what had to be going on in his brother's mind. He was tempted to reach out for him, to try and comfort him, even if he knew that it wouldn't have done much, not while his sibling was in that state. However, he didn't dare. Not with Castiel there. The angel had no idea of how Dean's relationship with Jack was and the last thing he wanted was for the other two to have a fight after they had just reunited.
"Speaking of Jack, he will surely be excited to meet you," he finished, addressing Castiel only this time. His was a huge understatement. He could hardly imagine how overjoyed the kid would be, finding out that he could meet the father he had thought lost forever.
Dean nodded slightly at the suggestion. He wasn't eager to go back to the Bunker, knowing that Jack, the material incarnation of the new, heavy guilt that had just been added to the already considerable burden on his shoulders, would be there. However, temporising wouldn't help anyone, as hiding from the inevitable wouldn't. As he had feared, he might have just been proven wrong about the nephilim and he might be about to have to admit that Sam had been right since the very start, while he had been wrong.
He swallowed quietly. The issue wasn't just been wrong, though. It was how he had acted and what that said of him. It was what Castiel would have thought of him once he would have heard what he had done and claimed. It was that he would have to find the guts to tell Jack that he was sorry and that he wanted to make it up to him. He was afraid that the two wouldn't forgive him completely, but, if he had to be honest, he felt sicker at the thought that they would have not just forgiven, but excused him too, because he didn't deserve that kindness and understanding. He hadn't deserved it before acting like a destructive, complete asshole and he sure as hell didn't deserve it now.
Castiel eyed the two hunters, not missing the sudden shift in the atmosphere. If the air had been thick when the humans had got off the Impala and joined him, now it was much, much worse. Something had to have happened, something he would learn soon enough. Something he wouldn't like, considering Dean's reaction. The look that Sam had shot his brother, a mix of worry and compassion, had just confirmed that suspicion. However, he decided not to ask. He would wait for them to fill him in with everything he had missed and he was sure that, whatever the issue was, it would come up, eventually.
"I am eager to meet him too," he simply stated, not voicing his thoughts, but choosing to be honest about another part of what he was feeling now. Jack . He hadn't even met the boy, not in person, and yet he already felt so many complicated emotions for him. He was thrilled to meet him, to look into the eyes of the being whom might be able to make Earth the paradise it was supposed to be without having to destroy it. At the same time, though, he was afraid because he feared that he could have disappointed the boy. The words that Sam had spoken seemed to suggest that the nephilim already thought very highly of him, whether because he had inherited Kelly's endless trust in him or for his own reason. What if he couldn't live those expectations up?
"Besides, I wouldn't mind spending some time in a familiar place," he finished, as he started to follow the two hunters to the car. He wouldn't admit out aloud that the void of the Empty had unsettled him so much, but it was the truth. Landing back on Earth had helped, but he still felt unsteady on his feet, as if he was waiting for the ground to crumble under him and to deliver him back into that shapeless blackness once again. He hoped that seeing a place that was familiar and that held a strong significance for him would help calming his inner agitation.
He walked around the Impala, his eyes wandering towards the stars for a moment, or at least towards the few that were visible in the light pollution, before moving downwards slightly. He blinked, realising that Dean had been staring at him from above the roof of the car. The hunter, though, instantly looked away and hurried to get inside, preventing the angel from speaking a word and leaving him no alternative but to follow suit.
From his spot in the passenger seat, Sam rested his chin on the palm of his hand and bit back a sigh, pretending not to have witnessed the abruptly interrupted interaction. That would be a very long trip.
The trip back to the Bunker turned out to be just as long and difficult, at least under certain points of view, as Sam had thought it would have been. The air inside the car got thicker and thicker as the time passed and the younger Winchester found himself charged with the task of explaining what had happened in the last few weeks. He narrated everything from the very start, beginning from the moments immediately after Castiel's death and with how Mary had ended up in the other dimension and how Jack had escaped.
It wasn't easy, at all, and Sam would have loved to get some support, but of course Dean seemed content with leaving him all the work. He managed through the whole tale, even if he had a few moments of hesitation, for example when he had to tell Castiel that they had decided to burn his body because they thought that he was gone forever or when he had to describe Dean's and Jack's relationship. From how careful his tone became while he spoke of the latter subject, it was clear that he was aware of the consequences that his words would have on his brother's and the angel's relationship. Still, he decided not to hold back or sugared the pill, also because, from the glare that the older hunter shot him when he tried to, he could tell that his sibling wouldn't have allowed it.
Dean, from his part, remained mostly silent, even if interjected from time to time, either to correct Sam when the latter said something he found out of place or to make some unnecessary sarcastic comment. The only time when he tore his eyes away from the road and truly stepped into the otherwise one-sided conversation was when he realised that Sam was more or less purposely trying to smooth out the rougher angles of his and Jack's relationship. He turned and shot his brother a warning, deep look. The other held it for a moment, but eventually gave in and resumed his speech, leaving almost nothing out.
Eventually, the younger Winchester's voice died down, as he ran out of things to say, and the thick silence fell over them once again, disturbed only by the roaring of the engine. The quietness was heavy and uncomfortable, even if not completely tense, but no one dared to break it. Sam had turned his eyes out of the window, choosing to watch the landscape passing by, while Dean once again kept his own gaze locked on the road, mouth drawn in a thin line.
Castiel too remained quiet, after the hunter had finished to speak. He knew that Sam was ready to answer his questions, if he had chosen to ask any, but the angel had decided to keep them for later, wanting to metabolise the information first. It was a lot to take in, a lot to think about, especially after what he had just been through. He needed time to wrap his head around it. They all did.
He had listened very attentively to Sam and had allowed the younger hunter to take his time, waiting patiently whenever the human hadn't been able find his words and had been forced to stop. He hadn't pressed, understanding how hard it had to be for the man to speak about certain events. Mary's disappearance before anything else, but also the moment in which he and Dean had chosen to give up on him, burning his vessel. His friends had been mourning all that time, while he was locked in the Empty, for so many losses. He could relate. He knew what it meant to lose your family, because he had gone through the same experience, more than once. The very first time had been after the Fall, when God had disappeared, leaving behind only uncertainty and a plan that was as mysterious as incomprehensible. Then there had been all the times he had chosen Earth and the Winchesters over Heaven. However, in those following occasions, the choice had been a bit easier, because, while he had been losing the Host, he had also found a new family, among the same humans he had chosen to fight for.
His line of thoughts had been interrupted when his attention had been captured by the weird exchange of glances that had taken place between the two hunters, once Sam had reached the topic of Jack. Castiel hadn't missed how the younger Winchester had abruptly changed his tone and way of speaking about the kid after Dean had glared at him, silently telling something that the angel, at least at first, hadn't been able grasp. If he had to be honest, while for the most his friends' ability to communicate with each other without speaking, as if they had a secret language only for the two of them, fascinated him, at times it could be extremely frustrating, because it made him feel like he was constantly missing something.
A small hint of confusion had appeared on the angel's face, but he had kept listening very attentively as Sam had told him what had happened after the two humans had managed to find the nephilim and persuade him to stay with them, at the Bunker. However, this time his gaze, instead of staying locked on the younger hunter, had kept wandering back to Dean. He knew that what he was missing that concerned his best friend and that suspicious had been confirmed when he had seen the dark expression on the man's face deeping once again. The shift in the other's stance had been so evident that Castiel had been able to spot it even if the human had kept stubbornly facing away from him. And, as the tale had gone on, the angel had received an answer to his doubts, as well as he had finally understood why the two brother had had such different reactions when they all had realised that the merit for his resurrection was most likely Jack's.
A frown had started to form on Castiel's face at that point and had remained in place even after Sam had been done talking and the silence had fallen on the car. Apparently, not only Dean had believed Mary to be lost for good and had, for what he had been able to read between the lines, taken the angel's own death much harder than Sam had, but also he seemed to have chosen to use the nephilim as his personal scapegoat. The older Winchester had refused to believe that there could be any light inside Jack, just because he was Lucifer's son, despite what he and Kelly had told the brothers, despite the good will the kid himself had showed. Dean had chosen to acknowledge none of that and had carried on with his own adamant point of view, without considering, even once, that he could have been mistaken. At least not until the moment when Castiel himself had come back, shattering all the hard wannabe truths the man had been clinging to as if his life depended on it. And, in a way, it had.
The angel closed his eyes, biting back a sigh. He could imagine how the older hunter had to be feeling right now and he knew him well enough to be sure that Dean would beat himself up endlessly over the mistakes he had made in the last few weeks and over the possible consequences that his choices, luckily, hadn't had. He now could understand why the man was having so many troubles looking at him, why he had suddenly started to look dejected and afraid. He was probably scared of Castiel's judgement and surely felt unworthy of the forgiveness the angel was already ready to offer.
He turned his head to look out of the window. Getting through his stubborn best friend would be even harder than the usual this time, because he would have to sidestep all the open wounds, the guilt, earned and misplaced, and Dean's enhanced self-contempt and insecurities. Not to mention that Castiel himself had his own traumas and metaphorical demons to battle. The meeting with the Entity had left him shaken in a way he had never experienced before and he was aware that, this time, he wouldn't have been able to just put his inner issues behind him without having fully faced them. And, until he hadn't achieved his own peace of mind, at least in part, he wouldn't have been able to properly dedicate himself to his best friend. However, he wanted to try and have faith, just as he had after Jack had shown him a better world, a world he still wanted to think as at arm's reach. It would take time, but he had strong hopes that he and Dean would be able to meet in the middle, somehow. It was the only way in which they would be able to help each other to heal.
That latter thought somehow eased the angel's mind and he kept watching the landscape going by before his eyes, his shoulders relaxing a bit. He would deal with his and Dean's situation later, when the time would be right. He needed to wait for when the older Winchester would have calmed down, at least in part, and become more open to talk, for when they would be alone. For now, he would let it rest. After all, there was another, more urgent situation he would soon need to face. Jack .
Castiel felt something constricting in his chest as the nephilim's name echoed in his mind. Apparently the boy not only was adamant on calling him "father", just as Kelly had thought he would, but also seemed to have idealised him, despite the fact that he had no conscious memories of their previous connection. The idea both made him feel anxious and filled him with a warm feeling he had never experienced before. He was unsure of whether or not he would be able to prove himself worth the nephilim's admiration and affection, but he found that one fact was almost certain: he would get them anyway and Jack wouldn't have allowed him to reject them under any circumstance. The only thing he was left to do was to force himself to accept it, perhaps find joy in the knowledge, and try as hard as he could not to fail the boy's expectations.
Castiel walked inside the Bunker after Dean and Sam, stopping just past the entrance and taking a brief moment to close his eyes and breathe in slowly. Less than a decade before, which was a very short time for an angel, he would have never been able to imagine that he would have come to call "home" another place that wasn't Heaven, a place on Earth among the other things, nor that he would have been reminded of what the word actually meant.
After the Fall, the Host had hardly been fitted to be described with that term and he had almost forgotten, after centuries spent as nothing but a soldier, how warm and welcoming those letters could sound when spelt together. The Winchesters had reminded him of something that would have otherwise been lost forever to him and had also taught him that, more than a physical place, "home" were the people you shared your life with.
"You okay, Cas?" Dean called, noticing that the angel had stopped his tracks and wasn't following them down the stairs. For a moment, the older hunter couldn't help worrying. Had their friend omitted to tell them something about the Empty? Was he hurt? Or perhaps he was upset by something he had learnt during the trip? He wouldn't have blamed him, especially if he himself was part of the reason why Castiel was mad. He had seen the face the other had made, while Sam told him about Jack, in the car.
The angel opened his eyes, hearing the human's voice, and addressed him a smile, instantly chasing away all his doubts, even if the concerns in part remained. "I am fine, Dean," he answered shaking his head slightly. "Just…It's good to be home."
The older Winchester was caught off guard by the words and even more by the longing sincerity in his best friend's tone. He dropped his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. The statement made him feel both happy and guilty, the contrasting feelings not helping the already raging confusion in his head and chest.
"It's good to have you back," he settled for saying, before quickly gesturing the angel to follow. He didn't want to have a heart-to-heart talk. Not in that moment and not there. Besides, chick flick moments still weren't his thing. "Come on, let's introduce you to the kid."
Castiel didn't comment on the hurry with which Dean dismissed his statement, even if the hunter had clearly meant his answer. The man was so obviously uneasy around him, for reasons he could imagine and perhaps for others he still was unaware off, and pressing the issue wouldn't have helped the situation. So, he simply nodded and followed, his eyes moving past the railing, down to the Bunker's hall and then towards the library. Everything was as it had been the last time he had seen the place, aside from the fact that it was cleaner and tidier. Still, his gaze didn't linger on the surroundings for too long, but quickly locked on the foreign and yet so familiar figure sat in one of the chairs with Sam's laptop, near the entrance of the library.
The angel's steps faltered again, even if just for a moment, and he felt a tug in his chest, as the nervousness he had experienced in the Impala came back. However, this time, a greater dose of eagerness and happiness was accompanying it. The nephilim looked good, a bright bundle of pulsing energy that lit up the whole room. He had recognised the golden glow of his soul and Grace immediately. It was the same that had showed him the paradisiac world that could have, one day, become a reality. The sight gave him more confidence. The uncertainty still lingered in the back of his mind, but now he knew that it didn't matter what Jack would think of him. He would have done everything in his power to keep the promise he had made to Kelly, to keep her son safe and to give him a chance to do all the good he could potentially bring to the world.
"How did it go?" Jack asked as a greeting, turning his head away from the screen just enough to be able to shoot a look at the two incoming humans. His eyes, however, almost immediately moved back towards the display, once he had assessed that his guardians looked unharmed.
Dean exchanged a glance with Sam, unsure of how they should break the news of Castiel's return to the boy. It wasn't bad news, but they were both aware that it could have been as overwhelming for Jack as it had been for them.
"Well…" The older hunter started to say, before looking at his brother again. Sam had always had a smoother way with words than he had, so maybe it would have been better if he let his sibling handle this talk too.
The younger Winchester almost rolled his eyes at his brother, but he suppressed the instinct in order to focus on the nephilim. He himself wasn't sure of what to say and he hated that Dean was, once again, dumping that task on him. "Jack, um…"
Jack looked up again, hearing their hesitation, and this time he fully turned his attention on the humans, a spark of worry in his eyes. Had something happened to them during the trip? He hadn't sense anything wrong, but now their behaviour was pushing him to reconsider his previous assumption on things being fine.
"What's wrong?" He asked, not without a hint of alarmed concern. His eyes scanned the brothers, carefully but unsure of what he should look for.
At that point, Castiel chose to step forward, instead of waiting for the hunters to come up with a way to introduce them, fighting back the last hint of hesitancy. Sam and Dean were clearly having some difficulties handling the situation and he wanted to put them out of their misery. Besides, technically, he and the boy had already met, even if Jack didn't remember it, so it was a reunion. No introductions were needed.
The brothers seemed to grasp his intentions because they moved aside immediately, probably feeling very relieved for having been spared more awkwardness, and allowed him to go to stand directly in front of the boy.
The angel offered the two a quick nod, before landing his blue eyes once again on the nephilim. "Hello, Jack," he greeted, simply. His voice was serious, but the emotions vibrating in it were well audible and there was the shadow of a smile on his lips.
Jack's eyes wide instantly, so much that the sight would have been comical in different circumstances. The look on his face clearly told that he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Because it couldn't be. Sam and Dean had been adamant on that point. Castiel was dead and there was no bringing back. And yet the angel, the one his mother had told him about and whom he had thought he would never meet, was there, standing in front on him, vessel, wings, Grace and all.
"Castiel?" He managed to breathed out, still sounding incredulous, but also deeply hopeful.
Castiel sighed with a small nod. The boy's reaction had surprised him. After all, in the last moments of conscience after Lucifer had stabbed him, he himself had thought that he wouldn't have seen the world, or anything else for the matter, ever again. "Yeah, it's me," he assured in a gentler tone, opening his arms slightly.
The nephilim shook his head. There was a part of him that just wanted to let go of the disbelief and trust what his senses were showing him, but the doubts were too strong to let go of all the questions, and so was his confusion. "No. We burnt your body, and what's burnt stays dead." He turned to look at the two hunters. "How…"
Dean shrugged, as to say that he didn't have an answer, but also looking like he didn't care to find one. And, honestly, he didn't. "Well, that's the question we've been askin'," he still confessed, his green orbs leaving the boy to land on Castiel. For once, he, the man who had never really believed in miracles, even after he had seen them happening, was ready to take one in and ask no questions. He had got what he had been praying for. It was all he needed to know.
Sam ran a hand in his hair, hesitating for a moment. "Jack…" He began, studying the nephilim's face carefully. The boy looked as shocked as he and his brother had been and he didn't seem to know more than they and Castiel did, but he was pretty sure that their hypothesis was the only, plausible one. If it hadn't been Chuck, or Amara, Lucifer's son was the only option left. "Did you, uh…Did you bring Cas back?"
Jack blinked at the question, the frown on his face deepening. His eyes moved once again between the humans and the angel, even if he didn't know what he was looking for in their expression. Perhaps for the answer to the question they just had asked him. Or maybe just for a reflection of his own being that could allow him to reply to it. His mind went back to his last fight with Dean. He had felt a rush of power running through him when he had called Castiel's name out, while the two hunters fought each other in the next room, but he would have never guessed that this could have been the result. And yet the three, even the older Winchester, seemed to be sure, despite the lack of hard facts, that he had to be the responsible for this unexpected gift.
"I don't know. I wanted him back," he tried to explain, feeling a small surge of panic in his chest. This time he had done something good with his powers, but he still didn't like how little control he had on them. Sam had tried to talk him into taking it easy and giving himself time, but whenever he thought about everything he might have ended up doing, especially the bad things, he couldn't help feeling uncertain and scared by himself. "I…begged for him to come back, but…but…"
"Well, here he is," Dean stepped in, saving the boy from completing a sentence he wouldn't have known how to finish.
Jack's gaze snapped on the older Winchester, his confusion growing slightly. He had expected the man to be skeptical, as he had been all the other times it had been implied that he could do something good. Hearing him stating, even if not directly, that he was ready to believe that this miracle was his doing was more than unexpected.
The nephilim knotted his brows together. Now that he was looking at the human a little better, he couldn't help noticing that there was something different in his stance too. His shoulders were less slumped, his face less dark, his eyes less empty, even if the shadows were still there. Had Castiel's return caused such a sudden transformation?
"Because of me?" He asked, still not believing what was clearly implied in the older hunter's words. He was glad to see that Dean appeared to have changed his mind, at least in part, about him, but it also seemed too good to be true.
"We don't know," Sam answered, sincerely. His voice was filled with the same hesitancy that Jack himself felt, but there was a brighter, more hopeful note in it too. The man wanted to believe that it was true, because it would have confirmed that he had been right since the start, that he had put his faith in the right place. "We don't know, Jack. But we…we think maybe."
"Thank you, Jack," Castiel cut in with determination, deciding that the discussion had gone on for long enough. He could see how lost the boy was and insisting on discussing the matter wouldn't have brought them any sure answer. The facts pointed in the direction that his resurrection was Jack's doing and he was ready to accept it a reality. He had felt the nephilim's Grace, it had coursed through him when he had killed Dagon, when he had been shown the world that could have been. He knew that Jack had that kind of power.
The boy turned to look at him once again, a bit taken aback by the strength of his words, but the he felt himself relaxing as his confusion and uncertainty melted away. Castiel had no doubt on the fact that he had been able to drag him back to life and Jack decided that, if the angel believed it, he would to. After all, his mother had told him to trust the creature, because he would be the one to guide and watch over him.
In a moment he was out of the chair and he had his arms wrapped around Castiel's body, the solidity of the vessel being the last proof he needed to know that he wasn't hallucinating. "I missed you so much," he confessed, his voice quieter, but just as intense as the angel's had been when he had greeted him. He was speaking the truth. He might not remember meeting the other and connecting with him, but, now that he was there, Jack felt as if a void had finally been filled in his confusing, still mostly obscure existence.
Castiel was completely caught off guard when the nephilim threw himself in his arms and it took him a moment to recover from the surprise. However, the boy was now radiating happiness, instead of uncertainty, and he couldn't help relaxing in turn and hugging him back. He felt a bit awkward doing it, also because he could feel the hunters' eyes on them, but he decided that he could have got used to be squeezed by that ball of energy.
"Sam and Dean tell me you're doing well," he said, once Jack had released him and moved away so that they could look at each other.
Jack nodded without hesitation. "I am," he confirmed and he realised that he meant it, more truly than he ever had before that moment. Perhaps it wasn't so absurd to think that Dean's attitude had changed so much because of Castiel's return. He himself was suddenly feeling more confident and positive "I…" He started to say, but he cut himself off almost immediately. Perhaps showing would work better. "Watch this."
The boy walked back to the table and reached out for the pencil that was rested on the smooth, wooden surface, next to the laptop. He stretched out a hand and the object started to raise, levitating for a few seconds before falling back down. Jack's face lit up ever more, with pride and a bit of innocent smugness, as he turned to look at his three companions.
"Wow," Sam let out, summing up everyone's thoughts, and even Dean raised his eyebrows, appearing impressed. When they had left, the nephilim had been unable to even just make the thing roll, let alone fly.
Jack's eyes brightened ever more, happy with the reaction he had got. "I learnt to move the pencil. I practiced." He turned to look at the younger Winchester. "Just like you told me to, Sam."
"That's impressive, Jack. You did well," Castiel agreed, with a small smile, raising a hand to land it on the boy's shoulder. He was a bit unsure about what he was about to ask, but he did his best to hide it. He looked at the hunters, who were still staring at the pencil. "Sam, Dean, would you mind if I spoke with Jack alone for a while?"
The brothers exchanged a quick look. The request hadn't surprised them. It made sense that their newly revived friend wanted to spend some time with Jack and get to know him. After all, he had been supposed to be there since the boy's first moment in the world. They had lots to catch up.
"Yeah, of course. You guys go on," Sam nodded, a small smile touching his lips. He was certain that some time alone would do good to both the nephilim and the angel. He moved to take Jack's spot in front of the laptop. "Dean and I will keep ourselves busy. We're more than capable. If something comes up, we'll let you know."
Dean simply shrugged, as to say that he didn't mind, and once again avoided to speak. If he had to be honest, there was a part of him that wasn't at ease with letting Castiel out of his sight so soon, since he was still trying to persuade himself that his best friend had truly returned and was there to stay, but he shoved the feeling away. As he did with the fear of what Jack could tell the angel about him. The kid had all the rights to complain about how he had treated him, just as Castiel did to hear everything about it.
The angel offered them a quick grin. "Then I guess that we'll...catch you later," he offered as some sort of goodbye, before starting to guide Jack towards the door that led to the residential part of the Bunker.
The nephilim followed more than willingly and they ended up in the boy's room, since Castiel wasn't sure in what state his own was. Or even if he still had a room in the building. It would have made sense if the two hunters had chosen to clear it, after having burnt his vessel. He hadn't been expected to come back.
The thought brought back a wave of bitterness and guilt, but he managed to ignore it and, instead, he chose to stop on the threshold, once they had reached their destination, to have a look around. There was nothing extremely unusual in Jack's room and, if he hadn't known that its owner was Lucifer's son, he wouldn't have been able to guess it, or to even think that it could belong to someone who wasn't a normal human teenager. Perhaps, the place was a bit tidier than expected, considering the boy's apparent age, but the angel was ready to bet that they had to thank Sam for the mostly absent mess. There were a few clothes scattered around, together with a few books, and the bed was unmade. He spotted a few half scribbled papers on the desk, with letters and symbols of different, ancient languages, and that was the only sign, one that only a trained eye could have spotted, that there was something supernatural going on there.
Jack watched Castiel expectantly from where he had taken a seat on his bed. The angel seemed to be engrossed in studying his room, so he tried his best to stay quiet and to resist the urge to call out for him, even if it was hard. He felt himself vibrating with nervous energy and eagerness. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, so many things he wished to know and just as many he wanted to tell. He didn't know where to start from. He didn't even know if he should ask the other to sit next to him or if he should offer him the chair.
Eventually the angel's eyes returned on the boy and he made himself cross the threshold. There was just the smallest hint of hesitation as he took a seat next to the nephilim and an attentive observer would have noticed that his shoulders were slightly tenser than they should have been. He rested his elbows on his knees and joined his hands, staring ahead of himself for the fraction of a second before moving his gaze back on the expectant nephilim. Once again he couldn't help marvelling at how bright with power and kindness Jack was. He was nothing like Lucifer. Or, at least, nothing like what the Morningstar had become. God's second oldest used to have that title for a reason, after all. However, that had happened in another life.
"So, Jack. How is the human world treating you?" Castiel inquired. It was a very general question, but he deemed that it was good to break the ice. It would allow them to set a mood for that conversation, before moving to what he really wanted to talk about. And to the questions Jack had for him. He could almost read them in his eyes.
The boy hesitated a moment before answering, his expression turning contemplative. "Well…I think," he ended up saying, even if he didn't sound completely persuaded. "I mean, there are a lot of things I really like." He grinned a bit. "Like sweets. Nougats. And I've met…good people. Sam, for example. He's been very understanding and kind. And he has helped me out every time I felt too lost. However, there are also a lot of bad things." His expression fell a bit, and a crease appeared across his forehead. "At times it's hard for me to spot the bad things. They are…tricky. And my powers…They are tricky too. Most of the time I cannot control them, and bad things happened." He hanged his head a little. He felt shame and guilt for the harm he had caused, even if he hadn't meant for it to happen. "So, for the most, it's all very confusing."
Castiel bit back a sigh at Jack's words. He could relate far too well. He didn't even want to think about how many times he had brought sufferance and destruction while trying to do the right thing. His latest attempt was the indirect cause of the nephilim's existence. Perhaps that didn't excuse him for his foolishness when he had accepted Lucifer's offer and allowed him to get out of the Cage, but, now that he had met the boy again, he was starting to feel more entitled to believe that, at least for this time, his reckless choice of actions had brought upon them a little blessing too. He also noticed how Jack had mentioned just Sam. That made him frown, but he discarded the thought for the moment. He would go back to that subject later.
"This world, as many others, is filled with both light and darkness, Jack. But mostly, everything is…gray," he tried to explain, his voice filled with warmth and understanding. "There are no certainties or strict rules that can teach you what's right and what's wrong. However, the fact that you feel guilt and remorse is a good sign. It means that you recognise and understand your mistakes, that you are ready to learn from them. And this is how humans deal with their free will. It's a game of trials and errors. And will to become an always better version of yourself."
He rested his hand on Jack's shoulder and squeezed a little. "Before leaving Heaven, before the Apocalypse happened, before I met Sam and Dean, I used to think that everything was already written. That there were lines and roles that couldn't be crossed and discarded," he resumed, shaking his head slightly. "Humans taught me that I was wrong, that nothing is set in stone. That redemption is possible and that everyone can write their own destiny." He moved his deep blue eyes back on the nephilim and smiled a bit. "Everything became harder, after that. And more confusing. It still is, most of the time. So I understand how you feel. However, I also believe that, at the end of the day, free will is worth all the pain and the hardships you must face to defend it."
Jack watched Castiel with rapt interest as the angel spoke, taking in every word he was being offered. Sam had been very willing and patient with him while trying to tell him about the world and its many faces, but at times it wasn't enough, no matter how much effort the man put in it. There were some aspects, basic ones, that the hunter considered obvious because he was human. Jack, however, was not, and so far too many times those explanations had brought him more doubts than answers. Castiel, instead, was like him. He was an alien dweller on Earth, even now that the human world was more of a home to him than Heaven had been in a very long time.
"Yeah…I agree," he nodded after a moment of silence, nodding with determination. "I don't want to be defined by…who created me. I want to be the one to decide whom I will become. I want to be able to choose to be good and do all the good things that Mom thought I am capable of."
His expression faltered a bit, when he mentioned Kelly and his gaze became uncertain. It pained him that he had never met the woman who had consciously given her life to allow him to exist. He felt a strong connection with her, but at the same time he knew almost nothing about her, aside from what he had learnt from the videos she had left him. However, those were more about him than about her. He wanted to be able to remember her properly, fully , as both his mother and a person.
"You can ask me anything, Jack," Castiel interjected, as if he had read the nephilim's thoughts. In a way he had, since the boy's thoughts were more or less written all over his face.
Jack was caught off guard by the sudden offer and he felt his face warming up slightly with embarrassment. That was a reaction he still hadn't got used to, since he hardly experienced it. He dropped his eyes for a moment, but then he lifted them again and nodded. The expression on the angel's face was still open and welcoming and that gave him courage.
"I wanted to ask you about my mother," he admitted, in a quiet tone. "She left me some videos, where she told me a bit about her and about you and my future, but…It wasn't much. I know that you haven't known her for long either, but you stayed with her for a few weeks and…I think you're the only one who really got to know her."
Castiel nodded back, not surprised at all by the request. He had been expecting it. Sam had told him that, while Jack hadn't showed any interest in Lucifer, he had been asking about Kelly. That alone said a lot about the boy's natural inclinations.
"Your mother was an amazing woman," he started to answer. His mind went back to the weeks he had spent watching over her and her unborn baby, witnessing her strength and her light. She hadn't been much different from most humans he had met, when they had first run into each other, while he and the Winchesters were hunting Lucifer down. However, all she had been through, and perhaps the pregnancy itself, had changed her, bettered her. Instead of breaking her, it had brought out her inner strength and her love. She had died without hesitation in the name of the faith she had in the being who was slowing growing inside her.
"She was intelligent, strong and kind. I can see her in you, Jack," he went on, a hint of fondness colouring his voice. "At first, her decision to keep you had seemed reckless and dangerous to me. I thought that she was doing it out of fear or blindness. But in the end I understood that she was conscious of her destiny and had chosen it because she was brave and because she had faith. In you. She believed that you would have saved the world as you had saved her. And I believe that she was right."
He made a pause, watching as the nephilim looked away again, this time in the attempt to hide a shy but pleased smile. Jack seemed to feed on praises, but in a way that was devoid of malice. It was a naive and innocent pleasure the one that lit up his hazelnut eyes, a boost of confidence and strength in a soul so filled of doubts.
That look on the boy's face pushed him to go on and he found himself reminiscing out aloud the lighter moments he had shared with Kelly during the weeks they had spent together and also the more pregnant ones. He told him how the woman had been adamant on decorating what should have been Jack's room, since they had been expecting a baby and not a teenager. How she was always so moved after each video she registered. How much love she had had for him and how unwavering her belief in the boy's goodness had been.
The angel also narrated the few stories of her life she had told him about, a life that hadn't been easy since the start, but that, in her eyes, had in the end granted her the most wonderful gift she could have ever wished for. A child. And not any child. A very special one, the kid she would have loved to grow and teach. However, even if she had been denied that possibility, she had been happy anyway, because she had had a part in giving Jack a chance to exist and show to everyone the beauty of the light she had witnessed so many times.
"She does sound amazing," Jack commented when the angel was done talking. The words didn't do justice to all the emotions he was experiencing in that moment. Happiness, longing, sadness, melancholy, admiration. He had always thought that his mother had been a strong woman, but now that he had heard so much about her he felt as if he could see more in the image of her face. His determination was renewed by those tales. He wanted to make her proud, to be the person she had thought he would become. He might still have difficulties understanding what was right and what was wrong, what he should have done and how, but he was sure of one thing: that prospect felt right and he would put his faith in it, as Kelly had put faith in him.
"Is she in Heaven now?" He asked then, looking up from here he had fixed his eyes on the floor, while taking in all the information he was being offered.
Castiel instantly nodded. "Of course she is," he reassured the boy. He hadn't seen her, but he had no doubt that her soul had flied to the Host. He then hesitated for a moment, pondering whether or not he should speak the next words. It was an unlikely scenario, but maybe, one day, there would be a way. "Perhaps, when the time will be right, you will be able to visit her."
The nephilim perked up at that last statement. He hadn't missed the uncertainty in the angel's voice and he knew why it was there. And it brought him right to his next question. "There is…There is something else I'd like to ask you," he started, his voice faltering just briefly. The encouraging nod he received in answer helped him steadying his decision. "I was wondering…How is Heaven? I've read the things the humans write about it. They say…It's supposed to be the best place ever created. And what about the other angels? They should be my family, but they hate me. I can understand why they don't want to trust me, because of what Lucifer did and is, but isn't there a way I can change their mind? Show them that I mean no harm? That I'm not like him?"
This time the question caught Castiel off guard. Perhaps he should have anticipated that line of inquiries too. It was just natural for Jack to wonder about his angelic roots, even despite the disinterest he had shown in his biological father. Besides, it was even more understandable that the boy, with in his clear dislike for conflict, would have wanted to know if there was a way for him to stop being the target of Heaven's hostility and fear.
"Heaven is…complicated," the angel chose to start, after having taken a few moments to ponder the question. There were no easy answers to it. Describing the Host to someone who had never seen anything but the human world was hard. Also because in the last decade there had been a lot of changes. "Before the creation of Earth, it was a boundless Garden. It was indeed the most beautiful place in the universe, full of light and joy and harmony. There was no place for shadows and conflicts back then. God's presence could be felt in every corner, even the most distant from where He resided and we all knew that He was there to watch over us and His creations, even if only five of us were allowed to see His face. The four archangels and the Scribe of God, Metatron."
"After Earth and humanity became a stable project in God's mind, Heaven was remodelled too." Those modification had been necessary to welcome the souls that, with the passing of time, would be taken from Earth to the Host. It had been with the start of the remodelling that Lucifer had begun to voice his opposition, which had culminated in his refusal to bow to their Father's newest, favourite creations. Castiel chose not to allude to those facts, not wanting to stray from the point. Not to mention that those events were bad memories he preferred not to recall, if it wasn't strictly necessary.
"Every human was assigned their own personal Heaven," he elaborated, trying to keep his explanation as simple as possible without making it too vague. "All of those different, smaller realms were at the same time combined into a bigger, endless one and kept separated from one another. Angels are the only beings able to travel to any of the personal Heavens, and they can even alter them at will. In each individualized Heaven, though, there is a way that leads to the original Garden, which has remained at the centre of the Host."
At this point he paused for a moment, studying Jack's face to see if he was following or if he needed to ask questions. The nephilim was once again wearing that raptured expression he had showed while the angel had been talking about Kelly, but there was a more serious light in his eyes and a small frown on his face now. Deciding that he had been clear enough, Castiel chose to go on.
"I don't know how much Sam and Dean have told you about our past history. Our life together has been studded with difficult, complex situations." That was a huge understatement, but details wouldn't help him making his point. Perhaps, in another occasion, he would have simply transmitted his own memories, of both the Host and his time on Earth, to the boy, clearing out all the doubts he might have. However, that would have to wait for a better time. Right now, he was still too shaken from his experience in the Empty and he didn't want to accidentally show Jack any of that. Moreover, he wasn't sure of how the nephilim would react to such a sudden, huge load of information. Despite his immense power, he was still half human, at the end of the day.
"A few years ago, after the end of the Apocalypse, a civil war broke out in Heaven," he went on and his face darkened. Those had been the events that had led him to his first, horribly wrong decision, which had endangered the whole world once again. "I was the leader, even if it hadn't been a free choice from my part, of one of the factions. The other was led by the archangel Raphael." So many angels had lost their lives then. Both during the war itself and once he had been turned into that dark, bloodthirsty deity. "The war ended with both Raphael's and…my death. The Host was left without a leadership once again, divided in different factions. It was when Heaven was remodelled for the third time. Instead of an endless realm of individualized Heavens, the angels gave the Host the shapes of a massive building, made of vast hallways. On each of them open the doors for each human's Heaven."
Castiel shook his head slightly, fighting back the umpteenth sigh and looking down at his hands. "It has become even more…sterile than how it had been during Michael's rule," he concluded, a hint of guilty longing in his voice. In part, those changes were his fault. "So, Jack, I'm not sure that Heaven is still the most beautiful place ever created. It was once, at the beginning, but now…Everything is different."
The angel then forced himself to lift his eyes again and to meet Jack's. The past was past and, even if it technically wasn't set in stone, it was always a bad idea to try and change it. The wisest choice was to focus on the present and the future. So, on the boy and no longer on the Host.
"On one thing I have no doubts, however," he claimed, with renewed determination. "You shouldn't let the other angels' opinion bother you now. They are scared because you have more power than they can imagine and every too powerful being, from Amara to God to the archangels, has only brought ruin to Heaven. That is why they cannot see you as anything different from a threat. Perhaps, one day, you'll be able to change their mind, but this isn't what you should be focusing on right now. You must learn to master your powers, so that you can decide of your own destiny. Till the moment you'll succeed, I will do my best to protect you, guide you and teach you, as I promised to your mother. And also because I share her hopes and faith for you. And of course, you have Sam and Dean too. No matter what Heaven, or the world, might think. You are not alone, Jack. You have a family that believes in you and that is ready to support you."
Jack nodded slowly, this time remaining quiet. It was a lot to take in, also because it was hard for him to picture in his head the images that Castiel had tried to describe to him. He wished he could have been able to see them with his eyes, but he understood that it wasn't the right time to dwell on those desires. Apparently, for now, there was nothing he could do to show the angels that he wasn't what they thought he was or, at least, what he would become. Castiel was right, he had to work on himself first, understand how to realise the future he wanted for himself and for those he had come to care about. Find a way to fulfil his potential. The rest would come later.
"I…It means a lot, to have your trust and support. And, as I said, if Sam hadn't been so kind and understanding while you were…gone, I don't know what could have happened. What I could have done," he finally said, quietly. He licked his lips slightly. He had almost made a mess, when Asmodeus had come to him and had tricked him taking Donatello's forms. If the Winchesters hadn't rushed to his rescue, now there would have been an army of hellish soldiers roaming around the Earth, bringing nothing but blood and destruction. "Sam and Dean, they took me in, didn't try to kill me on the spot, gave me a home…I don't know if I'll ever be able to repay them for this. Even if…"
He let his voice trail off at that point, unsure if he should continue or not. Dean was Castiel's best friend and he didn't want to talk ill of him for that reason, no matter how harsh and unfair the older hunter had been with him. He would have hated making the angel mad because he had pushed his words too far. Besides, he understood, at least in part, why the older Winchester had been so bitter with him since the start. Sam had stated that Dean had no rights to make those accusations, but Jack didn't completely agree. He had, indirectly, been responsible for Mary's disappearance, and for Castiel's death too. If he hadn't opened that door to the other dimension, the woman would still be there, with her sons, and perhaps the angel wouldn't have died in the fight with Lucifer. Perhaps they would have found another way to get rid of the Devil and some pain might have been spared to the two brothers.
Castiel waited for the boy to keep going, but after almost a half minute of silence it became clear that the nephilim didn't intend to finish his sentence. Not that Jack needed to. The angel could take a very good guess about what the boy had been about to say. Once again, he had just named Sam when he had mentioned who had been helping him all that time, while he had included Dean only in the more general observations. Considering what the Winchesters had told him about the older hunter and Jack's very conflictual relationship, he was almost sure that the nephilim had been on the verge of telling him about how the human had been acting around him.
"Jack, I think I know what you want to say, and that is exactly what I wished to talk about with you," he began, seeking Jack's eyes. He wanted the boy to know that it was okay and that he was already aware of the situation. That he understood and wouldn't have judged him even if he had openly insulted the older Winchester. From what Sam had told him, and since he knew his best friend very well, he could imagine how hard it had been. "Dean can be...harsh, unforgiving even, especially when he is in a bad place. He gets angry, bitter and he can't hold it to himself, he has to throw it out and he does, as soon as he is offered a pretext to. And what happened with his mother, and to me...It hit him hard, to use another euphemism. I'm sure you have noticed."
He paused for a moment and rubbed his fingers together, distractedly. "With this I'm not trying to excuse him. He had no rights to blame you for what happened, because none of this was your fault, Jack. Never think that." He shot the nephilim a meaningful, firm look. He had the feeling that the boy had the Winchesters', and his own, same tendency to blame himself far too easily and he didn't wish to encourage it. "I just want you to know that he is a good man, much better than you can imagine. He will make it up to you, now that he has understood his mistake. And I know he has. He realised it in the same moment when we discovered that my return is most likely your doing." He let out a sound that was half way between a deep sigh and an exasperated chuckle. "Dean isn't the best with apologies, so he won't come to you and say "sorry". Not with words, at least. But you'll see. He will treat you better. And if he doesn't, Sam and I will deal with him."
The last sentence was spoken a bit jokingly and Jack seemed to catch on that, because his lips curled up a bit. He understood what the angel was trying to say, about Dean having found a bit of hope again, and he nodded, wanting to show that he believed him. The truth was that he had already noticed a change in the older hunter's attitude, even if he had seen still many shadows in his eyes.
"I…see. He and Sam have gone through a lot, this I understand," he answered, looking thoughtful. He then grinned back. "But I think you're right. Dean was so…bitter because you were gone, much more than Sam, so now that you're back he will be better. We all are going to be better. I'll learn to control my powers and find a way to reopen that door on the Apocalyptic world, so we can all go and get Mary. And at that point everything will be good again."
He didn't want to sound too naive or optimistic, because he was aware that things would never be that easy, even if getting Mary back was all that would take to make their little group happy. There were wounds and scars left by the past that would never fully heal and that would never be erased, not even with all the power that the nephilim of an archangel could gain. However, that was what faith was for. To believe that even the impossible could happen, that even the darkest night could be lit up.
Once again, Castiel found himself slightly taken aback by the brightness of the boy's eyes. It was unsettling, but not in a negative way. He pondered Jack's words carefully, even if a part of him, the disillusioned side that had lost most of his hope and faith, almost wanted to reject them. Nothing had ever gone completely smoothly for him and the Winchesters. Whenever they managed to fix a problem, others came up, either by chance or as a consequence of their choices, and it was usually worse than the previous issue. However, the nephilim's shiny determination was infectious and, before he could even realise it, he found himself nodding in agreement.
"Yes, Jack. I believe that this is a very good plan," he commented, landing his hand once again back on the boy's shoulder.
Silence fell once again between them at that point, but this time it was devoid of tension or awkward expectations. They had turned to look in front of them, both pondering the words that had been exchanged, Castiel's hand still nestled protectively on Jack's collarbone. That was how Sam found them, a couple of minutes later, when he came knocking on the open door.
"Hey," the younger Winchester greeted, looking between the other two, as if he was trying to determine whether or not he had interrupted something. Since he received no complaints, he decided that he could safely go on. "Uh, we found something. A case, most likely, and Dean thought that we could…go all together on this one. It seems pretty nasty, so we might use some help. Unless you guys have other plans."
The angel was a bit surprised to hear that Dean had been the one to ask for his and Jack's presence, but he decided to interpret it as the first attempt at apologising from the older hunter's part. Next to him, the boy had instantly perked up at the idea of a hunt and so he had no doubt that the nephilim would have wanted to go. He had the feeling that the boy would have never turned down even the smallest chance he got to prove his worth and make himself useful.
"We're done here," he stated, getting up from the bed. "We would be glad to help. Show us what you've got, Sam."
Jack had been the first to follow Sam out, already excited about going on a hunt and having another chance to prove his abilities and good intentions, especially to his regained father. His behaviour had surprised Castiel a little. He hadn't had the time to get used to Jack's fervor yet and so the enthusiasm kept catching him slightly off guard, but he liked seeing him like this. For a child doomed to be evil by pretty much everyone around him, the nephilim was handling it pretty fine.
The angel had thoughtfully followed the other two towards the living room. The boy had pretty much confessed to him that all those expectations, both the good and the bad ones, burdened him. It couldn't have been any differently. Castiel had a very clear idea of how it felt, having the weight of a whole world on your shoulders, and no one would have been able to ignore it, unless you dropped everything and fled from those responsibilities. Just as God had done, millennia before. However, the recent events had shown that not even his Father had been able to escape from them indefinitely. They had caught up with him, in the form of Amara in this particular case, and even the Almighty had been forced to face the consequences of his choices. That considered, none of them, not even the one who was Lucifer's son and potentially the most powerful being in the universe after God and the Darkness, could have found an easy way out, one that could have spared him from paying the toll that life imposed to everyone.
He had been so lost in those thoughts that he had hardly noticed that they had reached their destination and snapped back to the present only when Dean spoke up, hearing their approaching steps.
"Marysville, Kansas," the older hunter offered as a greeting. "Several people found dead during last two weeks. Sounds boring? Well, you haven't heard the best, creepiest thing yet. All the victims had some of their organs replaced with fake ones. One dead guy - one fake gut. Pretty neat, ain't it?"
The older Winchester glanced up just briefly from the laptop when all the others gathered around him. He was aware that Castiel and Jack had to have talked about him and he was pretty anxious to see their reactions, even if he did his best to hide it. He relaxed slightly seeing that the angel, once again, wasn't looking at him with anger or disappointment in his eyes. And Jack? The kid still seemed a bit hesitant around Dean, but he looked like he got back all that child's joy and naive brightness he had shown at first. Deep inside Dean felt very grateful and relieved that Castiel had already managed to influence the boy so much. If his own bad behaviours towards the nephilim wouldn't have had any long-term consequences, it would most likely be all thanks to his best friend's intervention. The angel was really the miracle they had all been waiting for to get some balance back in their lives.
"Could be just some psycho serial killer with trophy kink, could be something our kind. It's hard to tell," he went on, discarding those thoughts and shrugging. "What do you say? You up for a field trip? I say we go and check it out, it's close enough and worth a look."
The other three looked at each other and then nodded, no one voicing an objection. Jack grinned, barely containing his eagerness, while Sam just shrugged, even if there was an amused light in his hazel eyes. As for Castiel, the angel just kept an eye on Dean, studying his reactions. His best friend wasn't acting much different from the norm he was used to see, but he could still sense the tension. The knowledge forced him to bit back a sigh. There would be a lot of work to do on that side.
Less than half an hour later, they had packed all the essential and the weapons they might need and hit the road. A field trip could really be what they needed to consolidate the group dynamics that had once again shifted with Castiel's return, not just because of the angel's physical presence, but also because of the changes that his resurrection had brought in everyone else's behaviour and mindset. There were still a few blurry lines and confused emotions that needed to be clarified, especially on Dean's part, and that hunt could have been the perfect chance to test the waters. None of them, though, would have imagined where that trip, which had started no differently from their usual ones, would have eventually led them.