Back in Black
Dean whirled around to see his trench-coated angel waiting expectantly.
"Cas? Where have you been, man?" Forgetting his rules about personal space, Dean took a firm step forward and hugged Cas tightly.
"Um, Dean? Was there something you needed?" the slightly flustered angel asked, when he could breathe.
"Yeah," Dean stepped back and released him, taking a shaky breath. "It's been a, uh, really long day, Cas. I mean, it's been awful! Lisa and Ben are gone," he started to explain when he was interrupted.
"Dean, wouldn't this classify as one of the 'chick flick' moments you're always trying to avoid? If there is some area I can assist you with, I would be more than happy to, but there are pressing matters in heaven that need my attention."
Dean stared at Cas for a long moment. "So, uh, is that where you've been, then? Taking care of the 'pressing matters in heaven' suddenly took precedence over checking in on the people, or person, you've been with for the whole apocalypse?" He wasn't sure why he was so possessive, but he figured it had something to do with how naïve his angel was, or the vulnerable air he seemed to always give off.
"Yes, Dean, heavenly matters have always taken precedence over the trivial things of life on earth," Cas explained very slowly.
"So what do you call pulling Sam out of Hell?" Dean asked, feeling unreasonably angry. "Besides, I seem to remember that just a few months ago, you were all about life on earth."
People were starting to stare, and Dean knew he should stop, or at least try to get some control over himself, but he couldn't stop anymore.
"My brother died in your cause, Cas! The least you could have ever done was answer a freakin call! Why is this the first time I've seen you since all that happened? I thought we were friends, Cas. I thought I could rely on you! I thought, even if everyone else in my life is gone, Cas won't leave me! What the hell happened, man? I've been all alone, and now you show up out of the blue and want to know why I'm angry? You abandoned me, you bastard! You're always talking about how I couldn't possibly comprehend things, or I'm not on your level, but you seemed to think I was perfectly fine to be stuck alone in a brand new place, completely cut off from all my family and friends because, oh yeah! They're all dead! And how was I supposed to know that you weren't too? I mean, everyone else I've ever been friends with has left or died, but I guess you would be the first to do both. Would you be happy then?"
"I don't understand, Dean. I am not dead. I don't see the issue." Cas looked adorably confused, but then, that could just be his normal look.
Dean took a shaky breath. "You left me when I needed you, Cas."
"I apologize, Dean, but I was not aware that you needed me for anything," Cas answered sincerely.
Dean shook his head and started walking toward where he'd first seen Tyler.
"Dean, where are you going?" Cas asked.
"I'm going to go tell somebody that I'm not going home with them tonight," Dean answered, "because we have a lot to talk about, and I refuse to do it here."
"Dean," Cas grabbed his arm to stop him. "I am truly sorry that your girlfriend is gone, but it might be for the best."
Dean had to bite his tongue hard, forcing himself to remember who he was talking to. "What would be best," he ground out between clenched teeth, "would be to have my son, my brother, and my best friend."
Cas frowned. "Lisa is your best friend?"
Dean shook his head. "No, Cas. You're my best friend, man! I mean, two people survive the apocalypse together, they're going to be closer than usual, right?"
Cas nodded slowly. "So if you don't want to talk here, where do you want to talk?"
Dean shrugged, then thought for a second. "Give me a minute, then zap me to my baby, would you?"
"And where is the Impala?" Cas asked immediately.
Dean smirked. "Good boy, Cas. She's in Lisa's garage."
Cas nodded. "One minute is all you need?"
Dean shook his head quickly. "It's a phrase we use here, man. I'll tell you when I'm ready, okay?"
"Okay, Dean. I'll just wait here, then," Cas agreed. He watched as Dean walked toward the man dressed in green and began to say something. He felt a twinge of guilt for abandoning Dean, but after he had failed so badly with Sam, he just didn't want to see the look of disappointment on Dean's face. In a way, the angel was glad for the display of explosive human emotion because it prevented him from having to make the confession that he knew was coming. How do you even confess something like this, though? "Dean, I'm very sorry that I made your brother an emotionless robot. I had thought I was rescuing him, but I only made it worse. I can't ever make it up to you, and I've been ignoring your prayers because I was disappointed in myself." No, that didn't even sound right in his head. Out loud…
"I understand, Cas," Dean answered, startling the angel. He had been so wrapped up in thought that he hadn't realized Dean's conversation had ended. But apparently Dean had heard the whole apology. Cas slowly looked up into Dean's eyes and flinched at the pain there.
"Dean, I just wanted to fix things. I brought you back, so I thought I could handle it! I guess being around you so much made me start to believe that anyone could achieve the impossible, but I guess that's only you. I'm so sorry, Dean, I let my pride get in the way and I ruined everything even worse than before."
"Cas! Man, I get it, but you have to give yourself some credit. I mean, if it's just you and me now, we can't both be hating ourselves. Come on, let's get out of sight so you can zap us to Lisa's. Besides, I'm pretty sure it counts for something that you managed to get one and a half people out, and it counts for much more, in my book, that you at least tried. I mean, we can play the blame game all day, but I have a whole lifetime of regrets when it comes to not giving Sammy what he wants. You did the best you could, Cas. We both did. Who knows, maybe we can fix Sam if we pool our resources." As Dean spoke, he led the angel around, trying to find a quiet corner where no one would notice them disappearing.
Cas listened dumbly and followed the man's lead. He knew it was still all his fault, but he felt comforted knowing that Dean was trying to make him feel better. When they reached a spot that Dean thought was good, he reached out to touch Dean's forehead, but something made him stop just before teleporting. "Dean?" he asked quietly.
"What is it, Cas?" Dean answered in surprise. "Is everything okay? You have your angel mojo, right?"
"That is not the issue," Cas assured him. "I was just wondering: when you said you hate yourself, that was just a figure of speech, right?"
Dean stared at the compassionate angel for a long moment, unsure of how to respond. Finally, he decided on a sad smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. The immediate sorrow that filled the angel's gaze made Dean's heart drop, but he couldn't bring himself to lie to his only friend. Not now.
"Let's get to Lisa's, okay, Cas?" Dean asked, breaking the depressing moment.
Cas nodded and touched his fingers to Dean's forehead. A moment later, they were standing in the garage of Lisa's house next to the Impala.
Dean hesitated before opening the driver's side door. "Hey, Cas? Don't worry, alright? We're going to work together now, and we'll fix him. And I think we'll be okay, too."
Cas nodded. "You be careful, Dean. There are forces at work that even we don't entirely understand. The angels are without leadership, so not only is there chaos, but there's no one besides me to keep them from coming after you."
"I'm always careful, Cas," Dean nodded. "You take care of yourself, though. If there is chaos in heaven and you've appointed yourself to personally protect me, I can only imagine the kind of danger you're stuck in. You watch your feathery ass because when I figure out how to fix my brother, I'm going to need you in one piece to help me."
Cas held Dean's gaze by means of response and disappeared.
Dean sighed and turned to the Impala. "Alright, Baby, it's just you and me. Next stop, Disneyworld."
*****SPN*****
Crowley paced his throne room impatiently, enjoying the way his minions cowered from his ire.
"Where is that infernal demon? Is it not enough that he lost the job I spent days ensuring he would get, or that he lost it to a blasted Winchester? No, now he has no access to fresh new recruits, he can't set up deals, and he can't even show up on time to his own execution! This is beyond unacceptable! The bloody idiot ruined the entire operation! It was a perfect set up, honestly, having a man in the place where all your wishes come true, and he went and threw it down the drain because of some bad acting! This is exactly why I hate demons. They're so predictably unimaginative! They have no creativity, no drama, and no theatrics. It's all just hatred, murder, and deals. Do they care that their audience would never recommend them? NO!"
"Then what do you call yourself?" came a lazy drawl from behind the irate king of Hell. He whirled around to find the demon in question lounging against a dreary wall, falling asleep to the sounds of suffering.
"Wake up, Jackson, and get your failure of an ass off my wall! What, do you want a reward? Some recognition?"
"Excuse me, your majesty, but I have been working that very same ass off all day long, and I think it deserves a break."
"No, no you haven't," Crowley screamed. His face had darkened to a dark shade of red as his anger increased, and some of the experienced demons were entertaining themselves by explaining to new recruits that it is possible for a demon to get so mad that their soul will spontaneously combust inside them, instantly killing the demon and disintegrating the host. "If you'd been working so hard, we wouldn't be in this predicament right now where I have to choose between letting you win or letting Dean Winchester win! You have been nothing but trouble since the day I recruited you, and I really thought that the easiest assignment in the world would at least make you see your role in a greater picture, but apparently I was wrong!" Crowley took a moment to collect himself before continuing in a much calmer, ten times deadlier voice.
"Look at that, Jackson. You got me to admit I was wrong, you sneaky son of a bitch. Now, Crowleys don't like to admit being wrong, and they definitely don't like being played, and there is nothing they like about being cheated out of easy souls that should have come pouring in like rain in Florida. For all of that, you will suffer, and I will watch, and I will enjoy it. I have no intention of getting my hands dirty with your blood, however."
At this point, Jackson gulped, realizing for the first time just how badly he'd screwed up. Crowley, who lived for pain and punishment, would refuse to participate in his torture.
"Sir," he offered, "since I'm being condemned, I'd like a final request. I mean, I do have two more weeks to work at the park," he began.
"No, Jackson," Crowley interjected, "your vessel has two more weeks. Any one of my loyal followers can use your meat suit and play your role just as shittily as you have for another fourteen days, and you can't weasel your way out of this one."
"That wasn't entirely my request," Jackson admitted. "I only want to go back for one afternoon, and I want to kill Dean Winchester."
Crowley stopped his pacing and looking the condemned demon up and down very slowly. "Well, I am a fair ruler, and since you are going to be spending the next few millennia in constant agony, I think you deserve to have one dying wish. A figure of speech, of course, since you aren't going to die, but it sounds nicer that way. Although a 'last wish before being tortured within an inch of your life for thousands of years without a single break while the king of hell watches in approval' does have a nice ring to it. The question here is, can I trust you to not fuck this up for me? Because any demon in your meat suit could kill Winchester, especially when his guard is down."
Jackson waited impatiently, imagining he could already feel the pain he was going to endure. Finally, he couldn't take it any longer. "So, is that a yes, your majesty?"