Lost
Dean knew what Cas was trying to do. Of course he did, he knew Cas as well as he knew himself. When the virus started spreading, when Heaven locked itself up tight and the angels all packed up and left, he'd watched the man slowly degrade. Tried to help, but there was nothing Dean could do to stop it. He had just watched as his angel lost that brilliant shine that had always been in his vibrant blue eyes, and there hadn't been a goddamn thing he could do to stop it.
At first, when this world was still new to them and the reality of it all hadn't stripped away at their compassion, their humanity, Dean had apologized so many times to his angel. He had screamed himself hoarse, until he was blue in the face, to any angels that might be listening that he'd changed his mind. He would say yes to Michael, finally, if only they'd come restore his angel. Save Castiel and all of his innocence and purity from this fucked up new world. No one answered his prayers, no one was listening anymore.
It was like watching Cas die slowly. His grace was fading away without having access to Heaven to recharge his holy battery. Every day seemed to be harder than the last, the angel was haggard and broken and losing hope. Dean felt like he had failed him, like there was something he should be doing that would fix all of this. It was always his job to fix things, and he had always managed to until now. Now, when it really counts, Dean finds that there's not a goddamn thing that can be done. He starts to hate himself, and the world around him, because how the fuck is this fair?
His apathy was made worse with the situation with Sam. He'd tried to reach his brother many times before the cell towers went down, always having his calls ignored. After the service stopped he would send scouts to different areas to try to gain information on his missing brother, but they only ever hit dead ends. Bobby was part of one of those scouting groups a couple of years ago. He had insisted on it and when the party returned carrying the broken and bloody bodies of those who hadn't made it, including the man who'd always been like a father to him, Dean felt his heart deaden even more. He was losing everything and couldn't stop it.
Cas started spiraling out of control a year ago. He held out and remained strong for so long, Dean wasn't sure he could blame him. Wasn't sure he really wanted to anyway. The man, because that's what he was now, had lost all but a tiny broken shard of his grace. That shard was barely enough to let Cas recognize auras, true visages, but not enough to let him use his old powers. Cas had joked once, stoned on something, that really the little bit of grace had to have been left just to remind him of what he'd lost and could never again have.
The drugs, the sex, the alcohol. It all came at once and was far too out of control by the time Dean realized what was happening. He'd been too busy looking for news of Sam, going on raids, to keep an eye on the ex-angel. They hadn't had a decent conversation in six months at that point, and when he finally noticed the rumors going around through the camp refugees- noticed the medicine missing from the supply rooms, the copious amounts of alcohol always requested on supply runs- it had been much too late. When he found out about the sex, he'd nearly lost his mind. This shattered man had been his nerdy, innocent angel- how had things gotten to be like this?
He confronted Cas about it.
"Don't you understand?" Cas had asked Dean, head tilting and sending a pang straight to the hunter's heart. "Heaven... it was just a place filled with dicks to you, but to me it was home. It was absolution, belonging; there was a soothing peace in the quiet of the Host that I haven't found anywhere in this world for years."
"So, what? You're staying doped up and screwing everyone because you're homesick?" Dean asked, receiving a sad smile from the ex-angel for his trouble.
"You really don't understand, do you?"
"This isn't you, Cas."
Cas huffed a laugh, face lighting up with with synthetic mirth. The man laughed a lot now, but it was never real. "I could return the statement, Dean."
Dean never brought it up again after that.
He threw himself into hunting for the Colt and taking care of the people who relied on him, ignoring the stream of people who went to Cas' cabin. He ignored the drugs and alcohol, ignored the ache in his chest when he thought of the former angel.
Dean dreamed every night of blue eyes filled with electric power, black shadows of wings that spanned out wide. He saw Castiel smile his old, awkward smile; the one that never looked quite comfortable on the angel's lips but was always achingly genuine. The one Dean hadn't seen in years.
The day Cas broke his ankle and was almost killed by a couple of croats, Dean told him he loved him.
"You don't love me, Dean." Cas told him, laying in his bed on a mountain of pillows. His expression was resigned, sad and pained. "You don't even know me."
Dean stopped speaking to Cas after that. He sent others to convey messages and went back to doing his work, killing crazy infected people and looking for the weapon. Dean wasn't able to resist completely, he did keep tabs on the man if only to assure that he healed correctly.
The day his former self arrived in their time, he almost put a bullet through his head just to put him out of his misery. Dean didn't, though, and he tried to carry on with the plan he'd hashed out with the people he trusted most. They would be getting the Colt in the raid today- He, Risa, Cas and Tony had planned to ambush the place they'd discovered the Devil was currently residing when they got their hands on the gun. It was already laid out what everyone's roll was.
Risa was a girl he trusted with a gun and had a semi-regular sexual relationship with. He wasn't with her in the normal sense, he still sought out others when he wanted something different, but she was attached to him for some ungodly reason and it was easy to just go to her most of the time instead of talking himself into someone new's pants. She also had never slept with Cas, which made her an even better choice. Dean tried to avoid the ones that had.
Dean had wanted to argue with Cas when the ex-angel had suggested that he lead the group into the building while Dean went around the back. They'd be the distraction needed to get Dean the alone time he needed to snuff out Lucifer. What Cas was suggesting for the rest of them was a suicide mission- there were croats in spades all over the compound, no way anyone waltzed in there and came back out- but Dean knew that the other man was well aware of that fact. The gleam in those deadened blue eyes gave away the fierce intelligence behind the stoner front. And Dean knew what Cas was trying to do.
Dean tried to tell him, tried to make the version of himself from the past understand. Say yes to Michael, prevent all of this. Save Sam, Bobby. The 'Save Cas.' went unspoken, he couldn't bring himself to talk about it, but he hoped to hell the other Dean knew. Understood.
But Dean was a stubborn ass, set in his ways, and he always had been.
He left his past self in his cabin, locked up with handcuffs he knew weren't going to hold against Dean Winchester and a makeshift lock pick. He knew his younger self would get out, and he wondered what his reaction would be when he met Cas. Cas, who wasn't Cas. Or hell, maybe he was, maybe the man was just too damn broken to be recognizable as the former angel anymore.
Dean went with the others to get the Colt, threw the entire situation out of his mind. Whether former Dean was there or not, it didn't change his reality. The show must go on, and all that.
Tony was infected on the raid. Dean shot him, put a bullet straight through his head right in front of his past self, who stood stunned beside the dirt road. Cas was standing in the background, near the path that lead up to his cabin. He was giving the past version of Dean a soft look, like he was sorry he'd had to see that. Dean frowned, irked for some reason that Cas was showing genuine concern to the past Dean; an emotion he lacked the rest of the time.
"He was infected, there was nothing else we could do." Dean told his past self in a flat tone, leveling a glare at him. The other Dean looked angry as fuck, fists clenched like he would strike. For some unfathomable reason, Dean felt the need to add, "He was a good man."
Cas looked at him then, faintly surprised by the admission. Dean just shouldered past the others, stomping to his cabin and ignoring everyone else.
Later, when Risa, past Dean and Cas were gathered in Dean's cabin and they were nailing out the final details of their plan of attack, Dean patiently held back the urge to throttle his past self when he started poking at the Risa-is-pissed-cause-you're-a-whore situation. Risa was glaring between them both, but Dean was too busy glaring at his younger version and pretending not to notice how Cas looked blankly down at the table between them.
The younger Dean made a comment that caused Cas to laugh suddenly. It was a deep, amused sound that was genuine and it floored Dean. Why was Cas acting so... real around this other Dean? When Cas looked at him and saw his expression, he smirked.
"What?" He asked, lips tilted up and gleam in his eyes that made them almost look like they used to, "I like past you."
It was a simple, innocent statement. It shouldn't have made Dean feel like he'd been sucker punched. He frowned, remembering the day he'd told Cas how he felt. Dean's expression flattened when he realized Cas was looking at him like he was thinking about it too.
"Are you coming, or not?" He bit out.
It was just him being an asshole, because of course Cas was coming. Cas followed Dean everywhere, even to Hell.
Cas volunteered to go with past Dean. It made his stomach clench, angered him, but Dean let it go with a quiet exhale. Knowing what was awaiting them all, Cas could have whatever he wanted. If he wanted to spend his last couple hours with the Dean he used to be, he wasn't going to stop the ex-angel.
He made Risa take another vehicle, opting to drive alone. Dean didn't feel like being around anyone right now, he needed the solitude. He didn't want to pretend to be perfectly fine, or even fight with Risa about what's-her-name- a situation he could really give a fuck about.
Dean climbed into the vehicle, briefly lamenting that it wasn't his baby, before he made sure his gun was loaded and clicked the CB radio on. "Double check your gear and let's move out."
Risa and Cas answered affirmatives across the airwaves.
It was a few miles out when the silence in Dean's vehicle was broken by conversation. At first he was confused, not knowing where the voices were coming from, until he recognized Cas' deep tone. Maybe Cas' CB button was stuck or something, because Dean could hear every word of the conversation happening between his younger version and the ex-angel. His heart once again clenched when he heard that genuine laugh for a second time. What the fucking fuck?
"Can I ask you something, Cas?" Past Dean's voice came through the speaker, hesitant as if he wasn't sure he actually wanted to.
"Of course, Dean." Cas responded, tone light like he was smiling. Dean wanted to know if the smile was real, too.
"What's up with... me?" The younger Dean asked slowly.
"I assume you're asking about the fearless leader." The slightly sarcastic edge to the sentence made Dean scowl. He hated that goddamn nickname.
"Yeah, I mean, he's a cold bastard ain't he? I can kinda see why, but..." The other man asked, "Why'd you even stay around? You two don't even seem to like each other."
Silence stretched after the last word, Dean found himself leaning a little closer to the radio in anticipation of the answer. He wondered if Cas would be flippant and dismiss it or actually answer honestly.
"Dean is..." There was a pause, as if Cas was considering his words. He continued in a soft tone, "He's not cold. Dean is what he has to be to do what he's got to do. You don't really know the kinda things he has to face, every day. It would make a lesser man crazy."
Dean's heart was warmed by the words, the affection they were spoken in. Maybe Cas wasn't as careless as he seemed to be.
"Okay..." The word was dragged out, as if the other Dean didn't really believe that. "But you didn't answer the other question, why'd you stay? You knew all this would happen to you when Heaven closed up shop, so why didn't you go back?"
Cas chuckled before he answered, "You still needed me, Dean. So I stayed. And maybe... Maybe home wasn't home anymore."
"What does that even mean?" The other Dean asked, puzzled, but Cas didn't answer.
Dean thought, hoped, he knew.
When the two started talking about mundane things, Dean flicked the radio off and rode the rest of the way in contemplative silence.
They were crouched outside of the building later, readying their weapons and going briefly over the plan for the final time. His counterpart started tensing up when he heard Dean talk about Cas and the rest going in and he knew that his younger version had caught on to the implication of that. The younger Dean knew what Cas was trying to do, but he thought Dean was the one doing it.
It almost made Dean laugh when the other one asked to speak to him, as if he could do anything to change Cas' mind. They stepped away from the other two, but Dean knew Cas could still hear them from this distance. He glanced over and briefly caught the ex-angel's eye before said man turned away, cocking his handgun.
Dean only half listened to the growing rant that his younger self was working up, insinuating that he was a heartless bastard and was he really going to let Cas die? The words struck a cord within him, it pissed him off. How dare this little shit imply that he didn't care about Cas?
It was slightly embarrassing how little force he had to put behind the blow that knocked his past self out, and if the action was slightly more satisfying than it should've been due to how pissed the fuck off Dean was then no one was the wiser. He stared down at this past version for a moment, wondering at the differences between what this world had made of him and what he used to be.
"That escalated quickly." Cas said, standing to the right of Dean and staring down at the unconscious version. The ex-angel appeared amused by the entire event.
"He was going to be a problem." Dean said simply, turning away from the irritating reminder of who he used to be, a person who still had faith in the world. Cas snorted.
"Like you weren't itching to do that from the second he got here."
Dean didn't respond, staring at the ex-angel stonily. Cas let the stare roll off of him like he was entirely unaffected, crouching down to the unconscious man. He put a hand on his head, expression thoughtful as he regarded him. Dean frowned, anger suddenly intensifying as he observed the gentle gesture.
"I don't understand you," Dean told him after a minute, looking away from the two to stare at the building. "Maybe you were right and I don't know who you are anymore."
A stretch of silence met his words, before Cas let out a huff of a laugh that was mostly hollow. "Do you know what an angel's purpose is, Dean?"
The question threw him off. Cas never brought up angels or Heaven anymore, not since all of this happened and he lost his will to keep going. Brow furrowed, he held silent until the man decided to continue despite not having been answered.
"An angel is made to love. They are meant to love their Father, all of their Father's creations. To put Him and all others above themselves, die for them indiscriminately. Lucifer loved the wrong way, the way angels aren't meant to, and because he put his love above all else he was cast out of Heaven."
Dean stayed silent, wondering where the ex-angel was going with all of this. It was the most words they'd spoken since that night when Dean had told the other man how he felt. He didn't know what had prompted this lesson on angels, but he held his tongue until the other man was finished.
"You think I stayed because I had more to do here, that I had a choice." Cas said quietly, running his fingers through the other Dean's hair. He kept his eyes on the strands as he spoke. "I wouldn't have been welcome had I returned, not after everything. I would have been cast down just like Lucifer."
"Why?" Dean managed, working around the lump that had suddenly developed in his throat. He felt like something big was happening here, something that had been hanging unaddressed between them for years. And it hurt that it was too late.
"I broke the rules for you, Dean." Cas said with a humorless smile, finally turning his eyes on the man. He studied Dean with a sober intensity that the other man hadn't seen on the ex-angel since he fell.
"For freedom. For free will." Dean supplied.
"You'd think that, right?" Cas said as he stood, brushing a hand over his shirt absently. He stepped closer to Dean, into his personal space and stared him down. It was the closest they had been in years. "You're such a self-centered prick, you know that?"
"What?" Dean asked, thrown by the comment. Cas just rolled his eyes at him.
"You only consider your mission, whatever it is you're trying to do to fix the world. You've always been that way." The ex-angel glanced at the unconscious man briefly, as if he proved his point, before turning those blue eyes back on him. "I fell because I loved a man so much I put all of his wants and convictions above all else, I put him and his safety above all others. And you're a dick, but I don't regret it."
Dean didn't even get a second to really digest that before Cas' hands were grabbing him, framing his face as he crushed their mouths together and kissed him like Dean was air and he was suffocating without him. It was a fierce kiss filled with passion and words that had been left unspoken for far too long, it was bittersweet and long overdue and much, much too late in coming.
In a blink Cas had pushed away from him and was already marching toward the building, the others joining behind him silently. He was already halfway to the structure when Dean's senses flooded back into him and he snapped into action.
"Cas!" He yelled, voice breaking slightly on the name. The ex-angel ignored him and within minutes he and the rest of the group were entering the building. Walking into their deaths.
It was several seconds before Dean could figure out what the hell he was expected to do now. Cas loved him, a revelation Dean had stopped hoping for. What did that leave him with though, honestly? At this point it wasn't like they could ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after. The words didn't change what was happening, didn't change the fact that Sammy was possessed by Lucifer and Dean was about to try to kill them both, or that Cas had just willingly walked into an ambush of croats that would kill him.
So. Dean loved Cas. Cas loved Dean. It didn't change anything.
But it did make it a little easier for him to walk to the back of the building, to face his brother's body filled with the devil and level the Colt on him. That Cas loved him strengthened his resolve to do what he had to, it helped release him from any remaining reservations about doing this. Nothing was left unsaid, it would be easier to let go now. Maybe that was why Cas had finally done it. It didn't really matter at this point anyway.
It was quick. The bullet burrowed into the middle of Sam's forehead and for a moment Dean felt it had worked, Sam's eyes had dimmed slightly and he was sure he'd managed to kill Lucifer and his brother both. Before he even had a moment to really register that something was wrong, Dean found himself flat on his stomach on the ground of the garden.
He heard gunshots from within the building as a heavy pressure settled on his neck, knew immediately when the sounds stopped that Cas and the others were dead. Dean felt what was left of his heart break in that moment, and Lucifer began speaking.
"I really am sorry it had to end like this. I hate that Castiel had to die like that," The voice was Sam's, but it was way too silky to really be him. Dean stared forward at a rose bush and didn't say anything in response, but Lucifer continued uncaring. "He was a good soldier, if he'd never known you he wouldn't have met this fate."
Dean wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up, to just kill him already. That's where this was headed, what was with the dialogue? He didn't want to be reminded in the last few minutes of his life of how thoroughly he'd destroyed his angel.
"It's a shame, it really is. My baby brother learned how to be free, only to be torn down by the very man that had inspired him to want it. It would be amusing if it weren't so sad."
"Fuck you." Dean growled out, the pressure on his neck increasing after his words. He caught sight of his past self walking into the garden a moment before the pressure was too much and his neck broke with a snap.
His vision was fading to black, darkness seeping in from the edges and he could feel his soul slipping away. Right before the darkness took him away, Dean caught a flash of blue.
Dean didn't know how long he floated in that darkness, unfeeling and unknowing of anything. It was pleasant and peaceful, as much as not thinking and not feeling could be. And maybe that was what his heaven was supposed to be- a hunter weary of life and tired from existing, just having and knowing nothing, being eternally at peace. Dean could get on board with that.
All too soon light flooded in, stinging his eyes and blinding him. When he finally managed to blink away the harshness, let his eyes adjust, he took in a familiar sight before him. He was standing on a dock, facing a lake on a bright summer day. The temperature was perfect, wind blowing the scent of pine and honeysuckle directly to him.
Dean gazed out across the water, sun glinting on the surface and making it sparkle. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, but he knew this place. He'd been here in a dream, the last time, and he hadn't been alone. Curious and almost expectant, Dean turned around.
Cas was standing at the edge of the dock, in dark jeans and a white button up. His eyes were locked on Dean, the electric blue he hadn't seen them in so long. Cas was smiling, a genuine smile that lit up his face and tugged at the heart Dean didn't think he had anymore.
Thinking about what happened the last time they'd been together, Dean couldn't stop himself from rushing forward even if he'd wanted to. He grabbed Cas, pulled him forward until their breaths mingled and green eyes were locked onto blue.
Cas tilted his head, blue eyes holding a long forgotten spark. His smile gentled as he brought a hand up to cup Dean's cheek. "Hello, Dean."
