4 – Close

Dean decided to let Kevin settle into his Heaven – whatever it was – before he visited him again. He was kind of curious what it would be. Since he was a quiet, nerdy kid, it would either be very calm and sedate, or it would be massively fucked up, as that was usually how these things went. Yeah, it was a cliché, but for a very good reason.

He entered Bobby's Heaven once more, in time to hear laughter. He knew who it was before he entered the living room to find Bobby sitting in his favorite chair with a glass of whiskey, and Cass sitting on the couch in a very casual manner. "Hey Dean," Cass said, raising a hand to him, smiling like he was stoned. He wasn't. This was just new Archangel Cass, who was so laid back and relaxed, you'd think he was smoking pot constantly.

Archangel Cass also radiated calm and peace, to the point where being around him made you feel good. Whereas Dean came through Ascension relatively unchanged, save for being an Angel of Death now, Cass came back with a new set of wings, and a new attitude. He was still Cass, he was just … happy. It was like he was finally at peace with himself, like all his doubt and pain were gone. Dean kind of envied that, although he shuddered to think of himself ever going so hippy dippy. "Did I miss something?"

"Naw, we were just reminiscing about the near Apocalypse," Bobby said. And he was serious.

"At the time, it was so dire," Cass said, with a lopsided grin. "But looking back on it, a lot of it was pretty funny."

"Yeah, the end of the world's a laugh riot." He wondered how much Bobby had had to drink today.

Bobby smirked. "Grumpy."

"He's always grumpy," Cass said. "It's his thing."

"Tell me about it," Bobby agreed. "You shoulda seen him as a teenager. He was fourteen going on forty. I expected him to get up one morning and start complaining about his sciatica."

"Hey, I'm right here," Dean complained. Maybe Bobby's giddiness was spurred by proximity to Cass. He could do that now, without meaning to. Dean sat on the couch, as far away from him as possible, but even he felt better, the tightness in his shoulders starting to unravel. This was an improvement over the older Archangels, who were the biggest bags of dicks imaginable, but it was still strange. "By the way, in case you were curious, Gabriel's still alive."

Cass just nodded, smiling faintly. "I assumed. He's faked his death about … fifty three times now, if I'm not missing one. He can hide from Heaven better than anyone I've ever met. Next time I see him, I have to get him to tell me his secret."

Just out of curiosity, Dean had to ask, "Does he have a beach house?"

Cass considered that a moment, then shrugged. "Don't know. Wouldn't surprise me if he did. He always wanted to learn to surf."

"What?" Was this Cass making a joke? He did that now. Not often, as he was still getting the hang of humor, but he seemed to have a better grasp of it now.

"I know, seems silly, right? But he always wanted to. I was the only one who didn't make fun of him for it."

"Why not?"

"I never equated something Human with being something bad. A lot of angels used to. Some still do."

Cass and his soft touch for humanity. In its way, it was sweet. And strange. Kind of like him. "So what's this fight were going into?"

Cass sat forward, his expression mellowing to one that was pensive. That was about as serious as he got nowadays. "Right. Usually it's a big thing, taking a couple of garrisons of angels up against the god incursion, but I figured with you here, there was no need to get that messy. We could just go over to their dimension, destroy the focal point, and get back. They need the focal point to open a dimensional rift, and without it, they're stuck."

"You couldn't have done it before?"

"There are some big time death gods over there. Yama, Asto Vidatu, and Aesma Daeva are the ones to worry about. They can do some harm to regular angels. But you being an Angel of Death cancel their powers out. I figured you and me should be just strong enough to take care of things without putting others in harm's way."

Dean had heard of none of these gods. Cass could have been making them up. But Bobby said, "Yama, the Hindu death god? That one's real?"

Cass nodded. "Nasty piece of work. Last fight, he started dismembering angels for the sport of it. He could have killed them, but he didn't want to. Corpses don't scream."

Wow. Yeah, he sounded like a total dickbag. "What's a focal point?"

"It's an apparatus that allows the gods to channel their energy into a single point, capable of ripping between the dimensional layers we put in as a barricade. That will be our biggest issue, figuring out what it is and destroying it, but it should give itself away with its incredible energy signature. It could be a tower, a cathedral, a forest, a mountain."

"A mountain?" Bobby repeated, giving Dean a warning look. It sounded like something way too big and cosmic for him to take on.

Except, no, that wasn't true anymore. He sometimes forgot, because Cass was helping him filter out so much of the overwhelming stuff, but Dean was on the cosmic level now. He was Death. He was everywhere. He just nodded, looking at Cass and realizing he didn't actually feel strange about any of this. Cass was his best friend, and had saved his life too many times to count. If he was crazy and stupid enough to love him, he should just accept it and move on. Although you'd think a being as old as Cass would've had better sense than to love such a sad, broken example of humanity. There were better people surely more worthy of it.

Sammy was right about all of it. Of course Dean knew, had known that the bond he had with Cass was oddly intense. But he was a good Winchester, and he compartmentalized what he really didn't want to deal with. He didn't want to know that Cass probably loved him, he didn't know how to handle that, so he boxed it up and shoved it away, and decided he'd just never acknowledge it. Dean had denial down to an art. How else had he survived his unwelcome Hell memories? Just put them away, lock them down, and pretend they aren't there. If they're not there, they can't hurt you. (Which was bullshit, but he preferred to pretend it wasn't.) It was stupid when he was Human, and it was even stupider now that he was Death. He saw through people's shit; he saw all the lies they told themselves. You couldn't cheat Death, but you also couldn't lie to it either. He could see his own lies if he dared to look in a mirror.

But it wasn't just a death thing, it was an angel thing. So what that meant was Cass never bought his shit; Cass always knew how fucked up he was inside. How could anyone love that? That was just baffling to him. He honestly wasn't sure how anybody even liked him half the time.

"Can I kill it?" Dean wondered. It was an inanimate object, therefore not alive, but sometimes with gods the line got really weird.

Cass shrugged. "Depends on what it is. But we should be able to destroy it regardless."

"Awesome. I'm ready to go when you are."

"Dean," Bobby said warningly. He hadn't quite adjusted to the new status quo yet.

Cass got to his feet, still smiling. He did that a lot nowadays. "Then let's go. It may get a little hairy, but I have a feeling that's only going to encourage you."

"Damn right it is."

Bobby sighed heavily, and looked at Cass. "Get his fool ass back in one piece." And Dean knew that Bobby also knew how Cass felt about him Goddamn it! Did everybody know? Of course, that answer was most likely yes. And they probably all figured it out like Sam, months before Dean even twigged to the possibility of it. Damn it. He really didn't think he was that dumb.

"Will do," Cass replied.

"I've never jumped dimensions before," Dean admitted, standing up. "I assume it's different than folding space?"

"Not much different, just a little more non-Euclidian. Kind of Riemannian." Cass said. As if Dean knew what the fuck he was talking about. "Keep in mind, the second we show up, they'll be aware of us."

"And attack."

"Most likely."

Dean pulled the hand scythe off his belt and held it at the ready. "Cool. Let's go."

Cass nodded, and Bobby gave him a very concerned stare. "Good luck."

"We won't need it," Cass said confidently. He grabbed Dean's arm, and space twisted around them.

Dean was aware he wasn't where he had been not only by the change of scenery, but by the ambient energy signature. It was different here, a little more erratic. Otherwise he could have been on a mountainous hillside somewhere on Earth. The sky was a little yellowish, but that could happen.

They both looked around, and instantly located the focal point about four clicks away, farther up the hillside. It looked like some variation of Stonehenge, a semi-circle of stone slabs arranged in an arcane pattern. They had fought together enough that all they had to do was look at each other and nod. Cass was going to approach from the higher elevation, and Dean would do that from here. They sensed protection of some sort around it, but it would not hold.

Dean also sensed a whole bunch of shit simultaneously. For instance, this world had some animal life, but mostly plant and insect life. No higher mammals, just gods that were rapidly closing in on their location.

Dean always felt this coiled black energy in him, death itself, and as he started up the hillside, he let it out. With each footstep, death radiated outward. The grass browned instantly, and plants died in a growing shockwave around him. He was putting out a message loud and clear, wanting to pull the death gods from Cass. Besides, wasn't it time he met some relatives? An Angel of Death didn't have too many peers.

He felt the shift in energy, someone stepping out of a rift in front of him, and Dean was already swinging the scythe before they emerged. The second they did – an ugly bastard with green scaled skin like a lizard, and a snout more wolf like than reptilian – he buried the curved blade in its long, slender neck. Its yellow eyes bugged out, and Dean grinned. "Hi. Nice to meet you." He then pulled the scythe all the way through, taking its head clean off. It probably wouldn't kill a death god, but it just had to put a crimp in their day.

He sensed a surge of energy coming his way, and Dean met the surge with one of his own. Death energy crashed together, and he could feel it all the way into his bones. Which no longer existed. Still, it was hitting him at his core. It didn't hurt; far from it. It felt like he'd just done a bunch of uppers. He was wired and ready to go.

Suddenly there were two death gods in front of him, and he felt a sword bury itself in his gut. It was funny, because it was only mildly annoying. He slashed down with his scythe and cleaved their face in half.

When he swung the blade over to catch the other one, that death god had his own sword and the blades clanged as they came together. He tried to knock the scythe out of his hand, but Dean wasn't about to let that happen.

The amount of energy being expended was incredible. Cass had to be fighting three or four gods of differing power ranges, and occasionally they'd impact and make the whole ground shake. Dean still had the sword in his gut, but he was absorbing the death energy around him. He wasn't weakening; he was powering up. As soon as he got the chance, Dean ripped the sword out of his own stomach and tossed it away. He didn't bleed. Then again, he wasn't really a physical form anymore. Had its perks.

His death god foe finally figured that out, but by then their sword versus scythe battle had forced the god farther down the hill. As the god pushed in, Dean kicked him in the stomach and sent him flying backwards. The one with half a face tackled Dean and brought him down, but Dean punched him in the face and kicked him off. He had a feeling they weren't prepared for another death wielder.

He looked up the hill to see how Cass was doing, and he saw Cass was facing off against a gigantic thing with two heads that seemed to want to squash him like a bug. But Cass was wielding an actual flaming sword, which was fucking cool, and which Dean had never seen before. Did all Archangels get those too? Lucky bastards.

It took them about ten minutes to carve up enough gods to bust through the protections on the mock Stonehenge. And while Dean wasn't technically "reaping" any of these gods (he couldn't kill them; he was certain Cass couldn't actually either), he dismembered them, and they were going to have to put themselves back together again, which felt enough like a win to count.

Once inside the focal point, Cass started slicing through the rock slabs with his flaming sword, and Dean just started messing shit up, both with his scythe and with the equivalent of his physical form, throwing himself into the stones like he was attempting to slam dance with them. He felt the death energy of this place and tapped into it, mentally shoving the energy outward and crumbling the ground beneath the stone, killing off whatever life it had ever had. He didn't know how he was actually doing it. It was autonomic, something that was somehow muscle memory even though it was new.

Dean had killed enough of the ground that a pit started opening up beneath it, and Cass had reduced everything to smoldering chunks by the time more gods showed to take them on. One was almost Chrysler building tall. Dean couldn't see its face, as it was obscured by clouds. Cass apparently thought that was a fine time to leave, as he grabbed Dean's arm, and space twisted around them once more.

They appeared in Bobby's Heaven again, bright green ichor still dripping from Dean's scythe, and Cass still bleeding from the nose. His sword was gone, or at least put away. "What happened?" Bobby asked.

"We kicked their ass," Dean said.

Bobby tilted his head skeptically. "You were gone like a second."

Cass wiped the blood off his face with the back of his hand. "It was a lot longer on the other side."

They had one more drink with Bobby, and took a moment to catch their breath, before heading off to give Hannah a status report. Cass imagined she'd be pleased at the speed of the resolution. "But that's why I thought bringing you along was a good idea," Cass said, as they walked the twisty corridors of Heaven. "You're not only a messenger of Death. You're a great fighter."

While Dean was happy with the ego polishing, he realized he had to say something. He stopped, and said, "Um, Cass ..?"

Cass stopped and turned back to him. "Yes?"

What was he going to say? What did he want to say? He really should have considered this before he spoke. Now he was at a bit of a loss. What wouldn't sound ridiculously weird? "Have I ever … thanked you? For everything."

Cass looked briefly puzzled. "What for?"

Yes, good question. But to his own surprise, he knew the answer. "For never giving up on me, even when I gave up on myself."

Cass smiled faintly. "That was always your problem, Dean. You gave up on yourself faster than anyone else. I never understood why you had so much self-loathing. Your standards for yourself were impossibly high."

Dean wasn't sure that was true … except, angel. He saw straight through him, like he was made of glass. "I don't understand why you always stuck by me. There are better people in the world. Hell, Sam's better than me."

He shook his head. "He isn't. He's different than you, that's all. Comparing people on relative merits and worth is a spectacular waste of time."

"Dude, how many times did I almost get you killed? And when the Mark of Cain took me over ... shit, did I ever apologize for that?"

"You don't need to. That wasn't you."

He had an answer for everything, didn't he? Dean chuckled faintly, rubbing his forehead. He was just going to have to ask, wasn't he? Finally, he did. "Why me?" Dean knew he didn't need to clarify what he meant at all. Cass would know. He knew everything else, right?

Cass's look was remarkably kind, full of grace and forgiveness, which was what you'd hope to find in an angel. And which you generally didn't. Cass was just a misfit angel, as much as Dean had been a misfit Human. Maybe that was their natural grounding point. "Why not you?" At Dean's baffled look – what the hell kind of answer was that? - he continued. "Do you know there's a group of angels who blame my corruption on you? They feel the second I saved you from Hell was the second I became contaminated beyond the telling of it. That the less angels interact with Humans the better because they degrade us, make us weak. And there was a small portion of time when I wondered if you had inadvertently destroyed me. I did want to blame my downfall, my craziness, on being with you and Sam. But I eventually came to the conclusion that when I saved you, I saved myself as well."

Dean was doing his best to comprehend this, but he simply wasn't. "Huh?" He often forgot that the pretty, nerdy guy he saw before him wasn't actually Castiel. He was a guise, something that made interaction with the world easier. Actual Cass was an energy form that Dean could now see out of the corner of his eye when he wanted to, something vast and incandescent and so ancient Dean actually couldn't grasp his age any more than he could grasp the true nature of the universe. Cass was an ancient, powerful creature, and he would never truly understand him.

"We angels spend our lives in little boxes, but we are unaware they are boxes. We observe humanity, we look down on you in more ways than one. Nothing you do makes any sense to us, and we think you are trapped in your own self-imposed prisons, while being blissfully unaware that we too are trapped. We have our duty, our rules, and we follow them. Asking why is blasphemy, and we fall in line like good little soldiers. We don't see this as the confinement it is. We tell ourselves we're special, we have a duty, and duty is all. But we fail to see how empty that is, how sterile and colorless our lives are. What good is being eternal if you never live even once? Truth be told, Dean, you've hurt me, you've broken my heart, you've failed me and betrayed me. You've made me angrier and sadder than I ever thought I was capable of feeling." Cass clapped him on the shoulder, and gave him a grin. "And it was fucking amazing. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Dean was trying really hard to get this. He thought he sort of got the gist of what he meant, but on the other hand … nope. Not a clue. "Uh, Cass ... I'm even more confused."

He chuckled. "Yeah, I'm probably not explaining it well. Besides, you've always been Human – well, before becoming Death. You don't know what it used to be like to be an angel. Let's just say you destroyed my entire world, Dean, and there's no greater thing you ever could have done for me."

Dean shook his head. "I don't get this at all." He hated feeling so stupid, but apparently this was his day for it. He tried to think of something to say, and found himself scrambling for words. "You're a very complicated guy."

Cass kept giving him that giddy grin, like this was all a punch line only he understood. And that was more than possible. "Takes one to know one."

He was such a weirdo. Figured he'd be his friend. Dean only seemed to feel at home among the strange.