Hey, guys! This is my first story on here so I would really love it if you gave this story some R&R. This story is based on episode 5x22, "Swan Song".
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural in any way, shape or form. If I did, Destiel would happen all the time and Sam would have to put in earphones to drone out the moaning. Seriously. C'mon, Sera Gamble! Get with the program… We need to see this coming!
Also, I HIGHLY recommend that you listen to these songs while reading: "Ordinary World" by RED, "Rebirthing" by Skillet and "One X" by Three Days Grace. Listen to all of them or listen to one. I chose the title of this fic to the song "One X" – We Stand Above the Crowd. I found the title to be fitting. Enjoy!
Dean found himself caught between two powerful forces; Heaven and Hell, Archangel and Devil, Michael and Lucifer. Yet Dean didn't see them; he instead saw his closest brother Sammy, gigantor, computer genius, bitch-face extremist and Adam, his newly found blood brother, quiet yet strong-minded, willing to take a stand to fight the Apocalypse. Dean knew that somewhere, deep inside underneath all the evil and corruptness, Sam and Adam were hearing him, calling out for help. There must be a way to reach them…
"Adam, if you're in there somewhere, I am so sorry," Dean said. He looked intently into Adam's eyes, searching for something, anything to let Dean know he was in there, breathing in cautiously.
"Adam isn't home right now," Michael replied, voice lifeless, monotonous.
"Well, then you're next on my list, buttercup. But right now," Dean tilted his head slightly towards Sam, "I need five minutes with him," he finished bitterly. Dean felt a sense of pride, knowing that Michael wouldn't help but be irked slightly with Dean's insult. Adam's face was ashen and stiff with anger, his eyes burning ablaze with fire.
"You little maggot. You are no longer a part of this story!" Adam's meatsuit attempted to walk hastily in Dean's direction, scowling as he did so. Dean stood without detection of fear in his eyes, slightly annoyed with these guys complaining about how happy their heavenly family could have been without the Apocalypse even happening. Thank God, wherever he may be, that their bitching subsided in a heartbeat. Without any indication, Dean heard the familiar gravelly voice that was his nerdy, trench coat wearing angel – and closest friend – Castiel. Adam and Dean whipped their heads around, paying their attention towards the angel.
"Hey, ass-butt!" Castiel yelled, a burning bottle clutched in his right hand, his bright blue eyes blazing. Dean watched as Castiel chucked the bottle at Adam, hitting him square in the chest. Adam began to burn, his screaming mixed with suffering and pain echoing throughout Stull Cemetery, his body eventually engulfed in flames and smoke. Moments later, Adam's body dissipated, the atmosphere now quiet and awkward.
Dean couldn't believe what had transpired within those moments. Castiel, his angel, burning Michael? Of course, it was unexpected but it was all Castiel – awkward yet appropriately something that he would do in a crisis such as this. He was yet mulling over the fact that Castiel attempted to swear like the Winchesters do out of anger or frustration. "Ass-butt?" Dean asked, eyebrows raised, his jade eyes open wide with surprise. Dean couldn't help but find this situation slightly funny, the tension from the battleground lightened by a fraction.
Castiel, however, didn't find his cursing humorous, his slate-of-a-face unfazed. He turned his attention to Dean, answering with, "He'll be back… and upset." Dean thought, oh really? No, Michael won't be upset about you Molotoving him; he'll be happy and there will be rainbows coming out of his ass – and the occasional unicorn might pop out and gallop with joy. Yeah, THAT's what's going to happen. Dean was brought back to reality when Castiel finished saying, "But you got your five minutes." The angel nodded, slightly content with himself. Lucifer, on the other hand, was NOT amused.
"Castiel." Dean looked over to his right at Lucifer, walking slowly over to Castiel, hands clenched with ire, eyes burning, loathing. Castiel looked at Lucifer, eyes wide with growing fear; Dean was just as scared for him. 'I can't do anything for him,' Dean thought. 'Even if I tried to, Lucifer wouldn't stop at wanting to get rid of me. I'd only be a fucking pawn in his game.' Dean stared at Castiel, at how his friend's eyes are dilated with fear, his breath gone quicker with adrenaline rushing through his vessel's vains.
Lucifer said to Castiel, "Did you just Molotov my brother with holy fire?"
"Uh… No." Castiel put both his hands up in submission, laughing shakily, moving away from Lucifer. Bobby glanced at Castiel with surprise, his mouth agape but his body very still. Dean began to get a sinking feeling in his gut – the same one that he got before he was savagely attacked by a Hellhound, before he was sent to the green room by Zachariah, before he saw both of his brothers being occupied by Michael and Lucifer. In short, this sinking feeling felt the worse this time around; Dean felt for his friend, and the spirit that he possessed to do a selfless thing for his charge. Dean thought back to Castiel angrily telling him and Sam, "I killed two angels this week. Those are my brothers. I'm hunted, I rebelled, and I did it, all of it, for YOU." These words broke Dean down, making him uncomfortable about himself and for Castiel; he then put himself in Castiel's shoes and as a result, his heart ached. Ever since that day, Dean gained more respect for his angel and eventually gained feelings for him. Who would've thought, Dean Wichester, ladies' man extraordinaire, would have feelings for a supernatural being wrapped up in a male meat suit named Jimmy Novak? There are worse things that can happen in a hunter's life. Like now. Castiel's word's – ones that reassured Dean that he can get to Sam through Lucifer – might be his last.
Lucifer was LIVID, Dean could see Sam's face scrunched up with disgust over the angel. He paused in stance for a brief moment, blinking once. Darkly, he said, "No one dicks with Michael but me." With that, Lucifer clicks his fingers and Castiel – in a blink of an eye – exploded into bits of flesh and bone, blood splattering all over the ground like a light rain. Dean froze, mouth unable to move, paralyzed with a mixture of grief and horror. Castiel. His angel, his anchor, his friend. His one light that shone through had now been extinguished. Dean was surprised at himself for not turning away from the sight or even shedding a tear for him. 'No, I will not be a girl. Cas wouldn't have wanted me to mourn him this way. He would tell me to keep focus and stop Lucifer and Michael.' Dean switched his emotions as swiftly as he could, anger beginning to boil underneath his skin. 'I will have Sammy back, you bastard. I'll die if I have to.'
Dean was lying against his Impala, unable to move; his face bruised and bloody from Lucifer's onslaught before Sam was able to control him by memories of him and his brother going through the best and worst of times during their hunting life. Dean kept on replaying what Sam said: "It's okay, Dean. It's gonna be okay. I've got him." Sam was so sure of himself during that moment, sacrificing himself to end the Apocalypse; yet Dean felt more alone than ever. He shivered, feeling a lone tear streak down him face sluggishly, his blood acting as a barrier preventing it from falling to the ground. Everyone I know is dead. Adam's gone. Bobby's gone. Cas's gone. And Sammy… he's in Hell because of me. I should be the one down there. I should've been the one to drag Lucifer and Michael down. Not Sam. It's all my fault.
With all the strength he could muster, Dean crawled inch by agonizing inch over to the spot where Sam fell into Hell moments before. Eyeing the rings from the Four Horsemen, Dean grabbed the linked rings and held them in the center of him palm, thinking of ideas to of connecting them to any rituals that would bring Sammy back. Crouched on the ground, Dean felt a sense of hopelessness once more, feeling unworthy of surviving the Apocalypse alone. Sighing, he closed his eyes and made a silent prayer. If anyone of you feathery bastards can hear me, please bring my family back. I don't know how I can live without them. Please, please, bring them back.
Suddenly, Dean heard a change in the wind, a rush of wings that were so familiar yet alien at the same time. It couldn't be… or could it? Dean held in his breath, refusing to make a sound. Turning his head, he squinted his eyes slightly to evade the bright light, not believing who he saw. A man who had a dark blue suit with a stupid backwards tie to complete the outfit covered with a beige trench coat shrouding his body. Jet black hair darting everywhere was matched with the clearest and most innocent sea blue eyes that Dean his ever witnessed; it was breathtaking. Stupefied, Dean thought it was a dream seeing this man. With everything that Dean had left, he whispered in awe,
"Cas, you're alive?" He immediately took note that his voice was raspy, damaged from yelling with the course of events; his throat burned. Cas gave Dean his usual head tilted glance; yet this time, Cas was not confused. No, Cas appeared to be calm, collected; it was as if he had seen an epiphany that he was not able to reach beforehand during his life. Cas bent over Dean, extending out his middle and index finger. Dean jumped slightly, having a hint of worry as to what Cas was going to do. With the faintest brush of his fingertips, Cas touched Dean's forehead with the slightest pressure. One second, Dean could feel blood seeping from his mouth and nose, bruises aching more with sensation; the next second, Dean felt nothing. He felt no blood, no bruises, no pain. He blinked once in confusion and looked up at Castiel who seemed a bit smug at the moment. Not only could Dean feel no injuries but he also felt that his soul, his essence – it was calm. Castiel added hints of his own Grace to calm Dean after the final battle and the inner demons and guilts that plagued him before the Apocalypse; Dean felt whole. Yet the only thing that Cas didn't heal was his heart; the Sam-shaped part was dead and would remain that way until Sammy was out of Hell and back in the saddle again.
Castiel looked at Dean intently, his eyes never straying. He could sense Dean's soul being at peace yet held calamity with the loss of his brothers and Bobby. Saddened by the sight, Castiel wanted to reassure Dean as best as possible, answering his question, whispering, "I'm better than that." Castiel then made the smallest of smiles to prove to Dean that he was fine; but Castiel was the tiniest bit confused as why he came back whole, possessing what powers he had and more. Yet he wasn't the only one that was confused; Dean was uncomfortable with Cas's return and wanted to know the heck why.
"Cas…" Dean hesitated briefly to finish his question, "Are you God?" If Cas was a psycho God of some sort, Dean was going to have none of that. Castiel could sense Dean's fear; in response, he chuckles a bit and reassured Dean: "That's a nice compliment. But no. Although, I do believe he brought me back. New and improved."
Dean nodded in affirmation at Cas's words, contemplating whether or not he was telling the truth. It IS Cas; he would never lie to me about something as serious as this. But why the hell would God bring him back? There must be something else going on that I don't know about or I will know about shortly. The best thing at this point was for Dean to ask the obvious. "Was it God?" Dean asked.
"I'm not sure at this point, Dean," Cas said. Dean glanced at him, worried that Cas would find the best means to search for his God and why he was able to come back to life in the first place. Cas walked over to Bobby's body and stared down at him, closing his eyes in empathy; Dean stood transfixed at the sight, upset seeing the man who was the closest thing to a father figure lying dead at Cas's feet. Cas bent over and lightly touched Bobby's forehead with two fingers; Dean lightly gasped at the sight of Bobby's body, which was coughing back to life. Bobby blinked his eyes, inhaling mass amounts of air in his lungs. He slowly brought himself up to his feet, cracking his back to realign his spine. While scrunching his neck, he looked over at Dean and whispered, "You haven't been touched a lick, boy. How did you –"
"It was my doing," Castiel interrupted.
Bobby glanced at Castiel and was taken aback by his presence, blurting, "How in hell's blazes did you –"
"I'm not sure," Castiel cut in again, shuffling his foot against the ground, staring at it as if was the most interesting thing to ever exist. Bobby glared as Castiel in suspicion until Dean quietly said, "He's fine, Bobby. I believe in what he says."
Bobby, still suspicious of Castiel, said, "You had best be careful. If he even goes berserk for a second, I'll smack you upside your head, saying, 'Told you so, idjit.'"
Dean knew Bobby was always true to his word, regardless of any situation. Dean smirked and said, "I'll hold you to it, Bobby."
"Yeah, well don't get too cocky, boy," Bobby sneered, "We still have pieces to pick up and put back together again." Oh, how right Bobby was. Dean pushed his hands into his jacket, looking at Castiel for a heartbeat but as soon as his eyes reached Castiel's, jade green reaching sea blue, a connection that Dean knew would never change. Don't you ever change, Cas. Never change. They stared for what seemed like an eternity before Bobby coughed to interrupt their moment by muttering, "If you two idjits are gonna moon-eye each other until next year, I'm going home. Are the keys –"
"In the Impala, yes," Dean replied, his eyes never leaving from Cas's, the intensity and drive never faltering for a moment. Dean wanted Bobby to leave with haste; he wanted this moment with Cas – it might be his only opportunity to if Cas was to return to Heaven for an extended time before helping Dean once more.
"Good, I'm outta here," Bobby muttered. The Impala's engine started to roar behind Dean and Cas; the noise eventually fading from their range of hearing. After what seemed like an eternity for Dean, he found himself speaking to Cas to end the prolonged silence.
"What are you gonna do now?" Dean held himself, preparing for the worst. Please don't say what I think you're gonna say, please.
"Return to heaven, I suppose." Before Dean could echo Cas's answer, Cas continued, "It's total anarchy up there. I don't know what God wants me to do. I don't know if he'll ever return. But it seems like the right thing to do. I suppose…" Cas walked until he was within close proximity to Dean but far enough away from his "personal space" to add, "This is goodbye for now, Dean."
Dean didn't, couldn't say a word back to what Cas said. No, Dean thought. I need you here. Not with everything that's happened. Without you, I'm completely hopeless. I'd lose myself in my own pity and guilt. Why can't I tell you that I love you too much to stop you from leaving me? I need you. I want you. I love you. He then noticed Castiel turning around, preparing to take flight to Heaven. Dean reached for Cas's hand, gripping his fingers tight, shouting, "Cas, don't go!"
Cas turned around, noticing the contact between their hands and whispered, "Dean, I must. I cannot leave my brothers unattended." Dean reached for Cas's other hand, rubbing the underside as he did so, refusing to let Castiel go. He needed to take a stand and let Cas know why he wants him to stay. Dean was on the verge of tears, his heart aching for Cas.
"Please don't go, Cas. I don't wanna be alone. You don't understand," Dean choked, his voice filled with hurt. Castiel paused, swallowing sharply at Dean's words. He looked into Dean's eyes, into his soul, and found pain and agony. Cas gasped quietly, wincing at how hurt Dean was physically, spiritually; Cas finally understood why Dean needed him. Comfort. Peace. As humans would call it, a shoulder to cry on. Dean wanted Cas's companionship and guidance to healing. One look into Dean's vulnerable yet beautiful soul was all it took for Cas to say, "I would do anything for you."
Dean returned his attention to Cas and whispered, "What did you say?" He leaned a fraction of an inch closer to Cas's face, needing to hear him say what he just heard.
"I would do anything for you, Dean. You are my charge; it seems appropriate that I should watch over you until you are, as humans say, 'emotionally stable', once more."
Dean laughed, "Cas, never change, will you?" Looking into Cas's eyes, he noticed a shift in his glance towards Dean; one that was more relaxed and pleasant. This is it, Dean. You need to show Cas your true self; one that is unafraid of him. Dean let go of Cas's right hand and placed his hand around Cas's waist, pulling him closer in, their faces barely an inch apart. "Cas," Dean started, his stomach flipping with overwhelming nervousness, "I –"
Castiel appeared to be uncomfortable with their current posture, trying to pull away from Dean knowing that he had issues with his personal space. "Dean, my apologies for being in your personal space. I know how displeased you get when –" Dean cut him off by taking his left hand and placing it gently against Cas's neck, savoring the silky smooth skin underneath his fingertips. Cas stood still, shocked with new growing sensations coursing through his body that he had never experienced before but he wasn't disliking them.
Dean said, voice deeper than usual, "I'm not worried about personal space this time, Cas." As he finished speaking, Dean slowly brought Cas's lips against his and Dean couldn't have asked for less.
Their first kiss together was chaste, sweet; Dean figured Cas wouldn't respond immediately to such an intimate caress like this. But what Dean didn't expect was Cas emitting the tiniest moan from his mouth – one of pleasure mixed with a sigh of relief. Giving Dean a green light, he moaned back into the kiss, pulling their bodies against each other and raising his left hand to cup Cas's cheek lovingly.
Castiel was trapped in a storm of emotions that he knew he could never get out of but he was completely fine with that. For the first time, Castiel felt Dean's soul reaching out towards his Grace, telling him, no, begging him to stay. Dean's soul – his beautiful, bright soul – was exposed to Castiel, unbarred and vulnerable. All the love that Castiel felt through Dean's soul was perfectly combined with the first kiss they shared. Castiel then felt Dean's tongue tentatively brushing against his bottom lip, seeking entrance to his mouth. Castiel opened his mouth slightly in shock, unraveling him slowly from the inside out.
Dean gently yet forcefully guided his tongue into Cas's mouth, finally tasting his lover's mouth for the first time and the rest was history for Dean. Cas's mouth tasted fully human yet carried an essence that Dean knew was wholly Cas. He noted Cas's scent, a mixture of ozone, ocean, and everything that was his angel. His angel; the one who gripped him from Perdition, sewn his body back whole from scratch with his soul, the light to his salvation. Awkward yet perfect, nerdy yet beautiful, unresponsive yet living. Everything that Dean saw in Cas since the night in the warehouse was what he felt in their kiss, their tongues performing a dance so ancient yet new. Dean then felt Cas's hands upon him; one lacing through the strands of his hair, caressing each strand hesitantly while the other was placed directly over Dean's scar – the one Castiel gave to grip him from Perdition, the one that marked Dean belonging to his angel. At the contact, Dean shivered, pressing his lips more firmly against Castiel, causing Cas to moan once more. His angel was making those delicious noises that Dean knew would be the first of many of come; he wanted to learn every inch of his angel, what spots made him squirm or cry out in pleasure. Dean wanted to know everything.
Eventually, Dean had to part from the paradise that was Cas's lips due to the lack of oxygen. Breaking off the kiss, he saw Cas open his eyes, dilated black with a barely there ring of blue, filled with desire and love; his face flushed a light pink, his lips swollen from just one kiss. Dean smiled at Cas, saying, "You really suck at goodbyes, you know that?"
Castiel couldn't help but give Dean a rare half-smile; Dean was set on getting Cas to smile more often in the future. "I suppose I am," he said, his voice filled with awe, more gravelly due to the kiss. "What is this?"
"This? This is now, Cas. You never know what's gonna happen next. Whether good or bad, we'll fight through this." Dean still felt the tiniest bit of guilt seeping through his pores, wishing Sammy back by his side, hunting like before. Castiel felt Dean's soul and sensed guilt; he knew how much Dean wanted Sam out of Hell, how Sam shouldn't be tortured or used like Dean was for decades underground. He also found his soul not feeling worthy of being where it was.
Castiel brought his right hand to Dean's cheek, saying, "You don't think you deserve this." Dean felt familiarity with Cas's response, one he heard before the first night Dean laid eyes upon him. Even though Dean felt pain, there was also happiness. Cas delivered that to him; Dean thought that his life isn't exactly the American Dream with a wife, house, white picket fence, and two point five kids, but this was as damn close as it was going to get for him as a hunter. A chance for happiness? That's a hunter's dream and Dean eventually came to terms with it. Him and Cas were now, and nothing was to stop Dean from having it.
"I feel that I don't deserve this, Cas…" Dean placed his hand over Cas's on his cheek, "But I know that I'm gonna get through this with you, one step at a time. So help me God."
"Please don't use my Father's name in any of this this," Castiel chided, half-smile coming back to his face. Dean laughed at Cas's honesty and attempt at reprimanding. The heavy load on Dean's chest dissipated some but Sam being in Hell is a problem that Dean knows he'll stay dedicated to until a solution is found. With Cas at his side, Dean knows that any emotional or spiritual help that he has to deal with can be calmed to a controllable level. Dean found peace with himself at this moment and it feels great.
"Anything you want, Angel." Cas scrunched his nose at Dean's nickname for him but dismissed it, looking into Dean's eyes once more, his Grace saying happily, I love you, Dean Winchester. May you never lose your faith.
End