Wow. I almost didn't think I'd live to see the day... we have come to the end, my friends, the final chapter.
Thank you all so much for sticking through me on this 80k word rollercoaster. This is the longest fic I've ever done to date. It's been insane and engulfing and terrifying and bang-head-against-wall-ing. But it was worth it, to get here.
Enjoy ^_^
When Dean came to, he didn't open his eyes immediately. He was still lying on the cement floor of the warehouse, the blood had congealed into a sticky mess that itched where his face had been lying in it. His mouth was still coated with it, cold and thick on his tongue, the smell of charred flesh and something more visceral than electricity stung at his nostrils. He might have puked if the effort of moving wasn't lost to him. His heart beat sluggishly against the points of his fractured ribs, which… he guessed was a good thing. The florescent lights still buzzed, a piercing vibration in his ears, and beyond that, barking and the sound of scrabbling claws that he knew should have sent adrenaline shooting through him, fight or flight. But there was always a third option when confronted of course, the one that his body seemed to have chosen, possibly because it was incapable of anything else. Under the snarls of the hellhounds he heard shouting, it was faint, but if he strained, and really, there wasn't much else for him to do other than die, he could just make out words.
"The warding! Sam! Break the warding!"
His lungs still weren't working right. How had he even woken up? He couldn't be getting enough oxygen to sustain movement; God, he sounded like such a nerd, wait… he sounded like Sam, or Cas, Cas was a big nerd too. He really didn't feel good, being a nerd didn't agree with him. Or maybe it was the lack of functioning internal organs… that might have something to do with it too but it was probably mostly the nerd thing.
A wet, hacking whine came from his mouth as he tried to take a full breath.
"Dean? Hey, Dean, are you with me?" Sam's terrified voice was probably the only thing that could have made his eyelids flutter open in that moment. As his brother scrambled towards him from nearby, Dean caught a glimpse of the ruined shelves, charred dog bones sticking out from the rubble and a line of white on the concrete before Sam came into his line of blurry sight, a small, relieved smile snapping onto his face like elastic.
"Oh thank God."
"Chuck's got nothing to do with it." Dean tried to say, but all that came out was a pained gurgle. Sam's smile slipped.
"Hey, it's gonna be okay."
Dean would have laughed if he had the air.
"I didn't wanna move you." Sam continued, and for the first time Dean noticed how pale he was, he must look pretty bad, "There's at least two hellhounds at the front door and one at the back too so I can't carry you out. I put devil's shoestring over the doors and salted them, it should hold them for now."
Well that explained the white smudge on the floor. Dean took more care this time, pushing what air he could from his chest to form actual sounds.
"Seal."
"I've got it here." Sam said, pulling the cloth half out of his jacket pocket before tucking it back in.
"Should've run."
"Don't be an idiot, I wasn't gonna just leave you." Sam said gruffly, using a spare piece of cloth from one of their bags to dab ineffectively at the congealed blood on his face. Dean saw the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed; he really mustn't look good, especially as Sam seemed terrified to actually move him. Dean couldn't blame him really, he didn't think moving would be the best idea either.
"You said," he hissed through his teeth. Along with the words came the high-pitched squeak of a balloon with a puncture. Oh yeah, this was super dignified, "important."
"So are you!" Sam insisted, "Stop talking."
"Mom."
"Getting Mom back won't mean very much if I have to lose you to make it happen." Sam said fiercely. "I realised that when I was halfway out of here. We'll get them back together, Dean. Turns out, I'm not willing to trade your life for Mom and Jack's. I won't do it."
"Bitch." Dean wheezed, and if a tear leaked from his eye... well he could easily put it down to the pain. Sam's lips flicked upwards.
"Jerk." He replied.
Dean twitched his lips in the least convincing boyish grin ever and even that brief exertion made his eyes roll back into his skull with the pain of it. He really didn't have the energy to waste on anything other than breathing, and even that sucked.
Sam's face scrunched into a worried frown and he glanced over his shoulder in the direction the front door, which was shaking and banging as the hellhounds outside threw themselves against the splintering wood.
"We've gotta get you to Cas." Sam said quietly. "The angel warding was in that room, if I can break it-"
"No."
"Dean-"
"Sammy."
"You're in no condition to argue with me here." Sam said, pulling a shotgun out of his bag. "We've already lost the element of surprise, Cas took out two of the demons with those devil's trap bullets but the third smoked out. Asmodeus could be here any second and you're bleeding out and I'm pretty sure all of your organs are mush. I can't get you out, so I have to make sure Cas can come in, so I need to break the warding, it's the only way. Those doors won't last forever anyway." He slid the angel blade out of Dean's waistband and shifted it in his grip, testing the weight. Then, he pulled out an ordinary pair of reading glasses and doused the lenses in holy oil. Dean watched as Sam flipped open a lighter and drew his thumb over the wheel a few times before it caught. Sam looked so sure of himself as he burned the lenses with holy fire, steel in his expression, his movements precise and practiced. Once he dubbed them ready, he put the glasses on and turned back to Dean.
"I'll re-draw the salt circle around you." He said. "Just hold on until I get back."
"Don't."
Sam scoffed over the tremor in his voice, pulling a hammer out of seemingly nowhere and shoving it into his belt. "You've already saved my life today, Dean, gotta even the playing field."
Don't let him do this. Dean begged, though what exactly Cas could do about it, he didn't know. He tried to raise his head, to push himself up, say that he could make it out the back where there was only one of those things, instead he just kind of flopped a little. Great, he was freaking Magikarp, though he did manage to hold his head up slightly and meet his brother's eyes.
Sam's hand slid under his head as cushion when the strength in his neck gave out before he could crack it on the floor again.
"Dean, look. I'm going out there anyway, whether you like it or not, just... just don't die on me, okay?"
Dean lay there, immobile, staring up at his brother with concern sloshing through his veins, but underneath that there was pride. Of course Sam was doing this, Sam had never been able to sit back twiddling his thumbs when someone needed saving. Dean knew it, he'd always known it, ever since he was five years old and they'd been walking back to the motel of the month from the school of the month, it had been early summer and had rained the night before so there were worms and snails and slugs abound on the sidewalk. Sammy had stopped to pick up every single one and gently place it back in the grass. Dean had tried to tug him along, impatient, wanting to get back to the room to watch Scooby Doo on the crappy old TV.
"Come on, Sammy." He'd moaned as Sam stopped once again to rescue a worm, "Someone else is just gonna step on 'em tomorrow."
Sam had looked up at him then, his big, stormy eyes solemn as he knelt, letting the little pink creature wriggle off his palm into the safety of the grass.
"Maybe." He said, "But I can save them today."
Dean had missed Scooby Doo that night.
Xxx
When Dean refocused on the room of the warehouse, or what little he could see, Sam was gone. He listened intently for any sounds of a fight, for hellhounds yelping, for Sam screaming, for anything. But his ears rang with the rattle of his own breath, the liquid pulse of of his chest and those damn lights. That wasn't good. It was getting harder and harder to stay awake, especially without Sam to distract him from the pain. Dean's eyelids fell shut, there was nothing to see anyway, more than half of his vision had fallen into shadow, despite the incessant buzzing of the lights overhead, or was that just his head?
He began to shiver, either with the cold concrete seeping into his broken bones or with shock, but each violent burst of involuntary movement was a torture on par with those early days in Hell, before they had realised that they had needed to step up their game.
Still, it really hurt.
His thoughts got fuzzier, harder to understand, harder still to form into words that he knew. The taste of cold, wet rust was in his mouth, each laboured breath was an agony so sharp that he decided maybe he should stop doing that. The dull thumping around his chest slowed, a dim bang, irregular and strangely echo-y. It didn't sound or feel like his heartbeat but then again, his senses couldn't exactly be trusted.
Another shudder pushed through him, squeezing out the very last of his air. He convulsed, his body going through the motions of clinging on to life but wouldn't inhale. Stupid body.
After that, everything slowed; even the buzzing of the lights seemed more relaxing, like a honeybee in spring. He felt so heavy all of a sudden and sleep sounded like a very good idea. It would be so easy; if he was asleep he couldn't hurt, or worry, or shiver. Sleeping would actually solve pretty much all of his immediate problems. Why had he fought this? Screw consciousness, consciousness sucked.
A muffled, low rumble sounded from far away, followed by a metallic bang. Then, the rumble was back, closer and clearer and less of a rumble, it was louder, a shout, his name? A sudden, light pressure on his face trailed sparks of familiar warmth, tracing from his hairline and down the curve of his jaw, coming to a weighty rest on his cheek as a soft blue glow began to kindle behind his eyelids. He gasped, his back arched, his head raising itself from the concrete and although the movement sent spikes of pain through his torso, air flooded into his lungs and stayed there; it still tasted like iron after pushing through the clots of blood still in his throat but it was enough to bring a semblance of clarity to his oxygen-deprived brain.
"Dean?" Cas' voice was fuzzy, like he was in between radio stations. "Can you hear me? Can you walk?"
Dean groaned in response and shifted his arms so that his hands were flat against the floor by his shoulders, fortunately they moved without too much complaint, then he gulped in more air and pushed, muscles straining. He managed to get maybe four inches off the floor before he collapsed, but by then Cas, who had apparently decided that Dean, in fact, could not walk, slipped his own arms under the hunter's and pulled him up, then, as Dean struggled to get his legs under himself Cas scooped him up easily so he was being cradled like a damn baby. He made an indignant noise and cracked his eyes open. He had to blink a few times to get them to focus and everything on the edges stayed blurry, but Cas' expression was all sharp lines and creases. Dean jostled as Cas set off at a run as though Dean was no heavier than a cumbersome bag of feathers and Dean hissed in pain at the movement. Cas glanced down at him and his face softened.
"I'm sorry." He muttered, "Sam only broke a small part of the warding. It was enough to let me in but my powers are impeded. I'll be able to heal you fully once we're out of here."
"Sammy?" Dean choked, dreading the answer.
"He's fine. He'd already killed one hellhound before he could let me in, I finished the other. He's taking care of the trapped demons now."
Relief washed through him and he nodded, allowing his head to rest more comfortably on Cas' chest, just savouring each breath he was able to take, categorising the smells of blood and roasting chestnuts and sulphur and woodsmoke and something salty and fresh, like the sea. It gave him something to focus on. The steady thrum of Cas' grace helped too and he soaked up the warmth like a freaking heat sponge, his shivers of shock subsiding. It wasn't until a gentle breeze brushed through his hair that Dean even opened his eyes again but when he did, he actually looked around. The bodies of demons and a blood-soaked lump of what Dean assumed to be the final hellhound were strewn around the yard, a gap the size of Texas had been torn in the fence by angel-strengthened hands and Sam was ahead of them, limping in the direction of the challenger, his jacket hung from him in shreds and he left a trail of blood where he stepped. Cas caught him up easily and allowed Sam to lean part of his weight on his shoulder so they could hustle a little faster.
"Any sign of Asmodeus?" Cas asked when they reached the car and Sam transferred his weight to the chrome instead, opening the back door and gesturing for Cas to put Dean inside. The door didn't creak and Dean didn't like it, but he didn't complain as Cas laid him carefully on the soft leather. It even smelled wrong, Dean had always hated that new-car smell, it was too sharp and it gave him a headache; nowhere near as comforting as Baby's smell of oil and blood and whiskey. He shifted to try and get more comfortable and only suceeded in jarring his insides.
Sam shook his head, glancing down worriedly at Dean's wince.
"Not yet, though I give it maybe a few minutes at most. How is he?"
"He can hear you." Dean grumbled. Sam rolled his eyes but turned back to Cas, still leaning heavily on the car. Looks like something got his leg pretty good. Damn hellhounds. They were definitely in the top five on the list of Dean's Least Favourite Things.
"Not good but he'll live. The warding was strong, it weakened me to even enter that place; we need to get as much distance as possible. I can heal him a little more now and then-"
"Heal Sammy first."
"What?" Sam looked incredulously down at his brother. "Dude, you can't be serious, you can barely move."
"Sam first." Dean growled through gritted teeth.
Cas looked between them, then, with a furious glare at Dean, touched his fingers to Sam's temple. After a moment, Sam tested his weight on the leg and used it to square up against Cas.
"The hell did you do that for?"
"You're driving." Cas said, by way of a response, folding himself into the back, manoeuvring Dean out of the way. "I can sit with Dean in the back and heal him as soon as I'm able. I also didn't want to spend the next hour listening to him whine about it."
Sam scoffed and got into the driver's seat, letting out a low whistle as he took the wheel in hand.
"Man, I like this car." He said, starting up the engine with a few unnecessary revs.
"Traitor." Dean mumbled; his head rested on Cas' thigh, the slight elevation of his head helped with the blood still lodged in his throat, keeping his airways clear enough to keep breathing.
"Go." Cas barked, placing one of his hands on Dean's chest, bracing him against the jolt as the car sped into an immediate U-turn. Dean still groaned at the feeling of his organs sliding around inside him, apparently untethered to anything.
"Son of a bitch."
"It's alright, Dean." Cas said softly. Dean met his eyes through the haze of pain, blinking stupidly up at the angel. Cas' face was grim but there was a softness to his eyes that Dean found soothing. "I've got you."
Cas' hand stayed on his chest, grounding him, feeding him pulses of grace every few moments that dulled the edges of his pain but didn't do much to actually heal him. That warding must have taken more out of him than he was letting on. That thought, coupled with the fact that only a couple of days ago Cas had drained himself of practically all of his grace in order to save Dean, sent a pang through his chest that had nothing to do with his ribs. And now Cas was keeping himself weak to act as a damn aspirin. He tried to argue that he was fine and that if Asmodeus decided to chase after them they'd need Cas at his full power, but as he'd barely been able to form the words without pausing to gasp in pain, Cas had merely raised an eyebrow and Dean fell silent.
"Even at my full strength, I'm hardly a match for Asmodeus." Cas said quietly, after a moment. "I won't make a difference if he follows us. But I can make a difference to you now, so I'd rather help ease your pain."
"You always make a difference to me." Dean muttered sleepily. The calming presence of the angel's grace mingled with his own exhaustion as the adrenaline of the job leaked away to make a cocktail of tired that apparently stopped his brain from working, he felt his face heat up and hoped that Cas didn't notice, but when Dean flicked his eyes upwards, he saw the warm smile on Cas' face and he couldn't bring himself to regret his words. The hand not on Dean's chest hand trailed to his forehead, his fingers slipping into his hair. He repeated the action and Dean closed his eyes, choosing to ignore the way his stomach did the nice kind of backflip and giving himself over to the feeling of being safe and cared for. The rumble of Cas' voice was the last thing he heard before he drifted off.
"Rest, Dean."
Xxx
When Dean woke, he immediately felt much better. His throat was clear, his pain was gone and Cas was still stroking his hair. Dean opened his eyes a sliver, then recoiled as they passed a streetlight.
"What time'ssit?" He mumbled, a little disappointed when Cas' hand had vanished when he moved.
"A little after ten." Cas answered him. "You've been asleep for about six hours."
"Asmodeus still a no-show?" he asked, sitting up and relishing in the lack of pain. He twisted his torso experimentally, nothing. Awesome. "Thanks for fixing me up, Cas."
"No sign of him." Sam answered from the front. "Hopefully those extra-strength hex bags I put in the trunk should keep us hidden, though we should probably switch cars soon, just to be safe."
Dean huffed and shifted his butt over so he was in the passenger-side seat.
"We heading straight back to the bunker?"
"We thought it would be best." Cas said. "We need to get the Seal safe as soon as possible."
"You still got it?" Dean's eyes widened, "Your jacket-"
Sam laughed brightly, catching his eye in the rear-view.
"You've got it, dumbass. I slipped it in your pocket before going out there. To be fair, you were pretty out of it."
Dean patted himself down and sure enough, there was a lump in his jacket that wasn't a weapon he remembered putting there. He shoved his hand in and pulled out the cloth wrapped Seal of Solomon.
"Well holy crap," Dean said, stunned, a breathless little laugh bubbling up from his chest, "we did it."
"Of course we did." Sam said. "We wanted it, right?"
Dean's face split into a wide grin.
"Damn straight."
Xxx
It was a couple more hours before they left the challenger in a ditch and switched it out for a less conspicuous ford model. Sam was reluctant as he transferred the hex bags over and spent the next half an hour bemoaning the loss before Dean perked him up by reminding him that the garage back home was stocked full of fancy cars he could joyride if he wanted. Dean had taken over driving in the switch and for once, Sam opted for the backseat so he could actually lie down for a while.
"Aww, look at him, all tuckered out." Dean teased when soft snores began to sound from behind him. The ford was a piece of crap so he actually had to keep to the speed limit lest the whole thing overheat. The engine juddered rhythmically as they cruised along the highway. Cas rested his head on his hand, his elbow propped on the edge of the window, but his gaze jumped back inside the car as Dean spoke and he turned to look at the sleeping yeti in the backseat. He huffed a chuckle.
"Well it has been a rather exciting day. And he only stopped for coffee once while you were asleep."
"Only once?" Dean let out a disbelieving whistle.
"I was surprised as well. Though he also bought…" Cas stooped to rummage around in the footwell for a moment before emerging with a gas station sandwich. "He figured you might be hungry when you woke up."
"He figured right, give it here."
Cas unwrapped the sandwich before handing it over so Dean wouldn't have to resort to tearing at the packaging with his teeth. Dean took a huge bite and chewed gratefully; it wasn't particularly good, dry slices of processed beef and a few limp leaves but it was better than nothing. He drove one-handed as he ate, and glanced over at the angel, who had returned to staring out of the window.
"You okay?" He asked.
"Mmm."
"That's not an 'okay' kinda noise. Did that warding make your grace go all screwy or something?"
"No." Cas replied, "I mean, yes, it did but its effects wore off hours ago."
"So what then?"
"I'm not sure." Cas said, finally tearing his eyes away from the oh-so-fascinating fields that they were passing. "Is it strange if I say that I'm more worried now than I was before we got the Seal?"
Dean bobbed his head from side to side, considering the question.
"I don't think so." He decided, "I mean, we've still got a lot left to do, with figuring out a way to get some of Lucifer's archangel red bull and all."
"Red bull?"
"It gives you wiiiiings." Dean said, imitating the stupid commercial. It was a lame joke and it earned him an eye roll.
"No, Cas, it's not weird that you're worried about what comes next. But it's okay to celebrate the win we just got too."
"That's not what I'm worried about."
"Then what?"
Cas sighed and glanced at him, then looked away again just at quickly.
"I almost lost you today." He said quietly, staring down at his own hands, which were twisting together in his lap.
That took Dean aback.
"It wasn't the first time," he said carefully, "not even the first time this week."
"No. But it just keeps getting harder."
"Harder?"
"There are a lot of things unsaid between us." Cas said, raising his eyes to stare straight ahead. "Feelings that we hold on to because we seem to have decided that they shouldn't be given voice. The resentments and the uncertainty and the anger we push aside because those things don't matter when we stand together. And the rest never needed to be spoken and I wasn't even sure I could express it correctly if I tried.
"But I've realised that keeping those things unspoken will only lead to regret if, next time you are in danger, and there will be a next time, I am too late or too slow or incapable of saving you."
Cas took a shuddering breath then, as though the thought caused him physical pain. Dean's mouth had gone dry as he stared at the angel, only paying the barest minimum attention to the road as he slowed the car to a crawl.
"I'm worried because I know that those things have the power to change everything, and I know that you would be more comfortable if they remain unsaid, but... I don't know, you've been more open lately and I thought-"
"I love you."
Cas' head whipped around so fast that Dean actually flinched, though whether that was from the movement or from the words that just came tumbling out of his mouth with no warning he really couldn't tell. Either way, his foot jerked on the brake and Sam let out a startled grunt as he jolted awake.
"Asmodeus?" He slurred sleepily.
"No, Sam, sorry, my foot just slipped." Dean said, correcting his mistake and directing his eyes straight ahead while he tried to ignore the way that Cas was staring at him, and the way that he could feel himself blushing up to his ears.
"S'okay. How long was I out?"
"Not long enough." Cas muttered under his breath.
"Huh?"
"Just a couple of hours." Dean said loudly, cutting over Cas, who, apparently, was pissed that Dean had interrupted his whole 'I need to air my resentment before I explode' speech.
Sam stretched his over-long arms as much as he could in the cramped backseat with a loud series of groans that, ordinarily, Dean would have ribbed at him for but instead he just let it happen, fearing the silence and what Cas might say to break it. He dared a glance over at the angel, whose shock of a few moments ago had morphed into the tight-jawed pout of pissy attitude that he got when he felt some great injustice was being done to him, personally. Dean almost smiled at the expression, then he remembered that he had caused it and was less amused. He shouldn't have said anything. He should've just let Cas say his piece without interrupting but he had just looked over at the wrong time, with Cas staring ahead earnestly, those endless eyes reflecting the pink and blue flashing neon sign of a diner, his forehead wrinkled with worry, his hands gently pulling at the edge of his coat. It was an image so strong that he had opened his mouth to speak and, like when he had asked Cas to stay the night, the confession had left his mouth before he could stop it.
Well he had just made the three hours they had left in the car incredibly awkward. In fact, if it wasn't for Sam, who, after a few minutes of letting the quiet settle, apparently felt the tension and leaned forward to turn on the radio, announcing that the 'Driver picks the music' rule didn't apply when they weren't in the impala. ("We'll stage a rescue mission for her after, okay?") It was a crappy pop music station, the kind that Cas normally enjoyed when he wasn't irritated at his friend's ability to completely derail what Dean was sure were very well-reasoned points that Cas needed to get off his chest. He'd been caught up in the moment and ruined everything and of course there was going to be fallout from that. His only hope now was damage control, which he refused to attempt until they had some privacy but he'd be damned if he was going to let this be the thing that pushed Cas away for good. Something had to be salvageable, help on cases at the very least, staying in the bunker was perhaps too much to hope for but still he hoped. Maybe he could ask Cas to just ignore it completely? Of course, it would sting like a bitch to see him wandering around the bunker with that knowledge but it would be worth it to keep him around, and it's not like he'd ever expected anything different, not that he'd been planning to actually say anything but whatever, he couldn't unsay it now.
Just before they hit Lebanon, they left the crappy ford in a movie theatre parking lot with no security cameras and got out to make the long trek back to the bunker. It wouldn't do to have a stolen car traced back to them in their own town. Dean lagged behind the other two, partly because of Sam's stupidly long moose legs and Cas' lack of human fatigue but when Cas finally slowed his gait to fall in step with him, Dean sped up. It was a ridiculous dance that made sure Sam was always a buffer. Dean wasn't 100% sure why he was acting like a damn pre-schooler except for the fact that Sam started teasing him for being out so out of shape that he turned the colour of watermelon when faced with a brisk walk. Dean took the banter gracefully, which of course meant that he grumbled 'shut up' and shoved Sam so that he stumbled, no longer grinning.
"So, what? I fall asleep for a few hours and now you and Cas are fighting?" He asked, incredulous, "Did you both skip the part where we won?"
"We haven't won until the Seal is safe." Dean shot back. "Or did you skip the part where Asmodeus knows where we live and would probably guess we'd come back here?"
Sam blanched at that and looked around. His comment had mainly been to get Sam off his back but now the words were in the air, the truth of them hit home and their previously casual stroll turned quick and tense. There weren't many people out at this time of night but there were enough drunks stumbling from bar to bar for them to be watched. Though why Asmodeus would be content with mere spying, particularly after they just stole his stuff and killed his pets, Dean couldn't fathom.
When they finally, finally reached the bunker, Dean tossed Sam the Seal and the younger Winchester darted inside with nary a glance back at them, holding the bundle of cloth in front of him like a stick of dynamite. It would have been comedic if Dean wasn't so bone-tired. Some of the tension evaporated from his shoulders as Sam crossed the threshold. Well, the Seal was as safe as they could get it now. Mission over. Go team. Then he turned to glance at Cas who had stopped walking when he did. Barely brushing shoulders they waited until the bunker door fell shut with its usual clang. Dean headed in the direction of the outside entrance to the garage instead, trusting that Cas would follow whether he wanted him to or not. He pulled out his phone when the door closed behind them and used the torch on it to find the main light switch. He quickly realised that being surrounded by cars wasn't the smart idea he'd thought it was, though the smell of oil and metal made him feel instantly more comfortable, as did the fact that Sam only came down here when he needed to take a car, it only drew his eyes to the empty space where Baby was normally parked. He was overcome with worry for her, those bastards could have stolen her, or beaten her to hell, or set her on fire, or anything. It was stupid perhaps to be so worried about the fate of a car when their own lives were on the line, Asmodeus was the kind of dick that held a grudge, plus he already hated their guts and he knew their stomping grounds. It wasn't a great mix and Dean knew that they were all going to spend the next few days on edge and constantly checking the warding, but still, he worried about Baby.
He shook his head and turned to face Cas, who was watching him warily. Right, dumbass confession, pissed off angel, ruined friendship, he still had that to deal with.
"Go on then, just get it over with." He sighed, gesturing for the angel to begin ranting.
Cas tilted his head and squinted at him.
"Get what over with?"
"All the resentments and anger and crap you wanted to spill. You've got a list of things you hate about me, right? Is it alphabetised? Mine is."
Dean wished he had a beer, or a bottle of whiskey. He was too sober for a talk like this. Fortunately, once they were done here, he could go and get good and drunk and pretend to Sammy that he was celebrating a job well done, so he wouldn't get that judgy bitchface all night.
"Is that really what you think I want to talk about?" Cas asked him, walking forward, popping Dean's personal space bubble as he so often did, though, to be fair to the guy, his personal space bubble had shrunk considerably over the years. Dean held his ground, as much as he wanted to back away and not listen as his best friend started listing his worst qualities he knew that cowardice wouldn't be one of them. He stared Cas down, swallowing hard as those blue eyes glittered with the bright LEDs of the garage. There were flecks of silver in those eyes, like moonlight on a lake, his striped tie was loose around his neck and his coat and shirt were wrinkled and flecked with blood, some of it was probably his.
"Isn't it? Airing the dirty laundry and all that? No regrets, unspoken uncertainty, hey, don't look at me like that, I listen."
"You said you love me."
Dean felt his face heating up again. "Come on, man, don't do this." He hedged.
"What am I doing exactly?" Cas asked, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Dean. I-"
"I was in a good place with this whole thing. Look, I screwed up, alright? I shouldn't've said anything but just..." He took a breath and ran a hand through his hair, looking anywhere but at Cas. His eyes settled on an old sedan with spots of rust on the hubcaps. He should really get around to looking at some of the cars down here that weren't his baby or a ditchable ride. Then, because he was apparently a glutton for punishment, he flicked his eyes over to the angel, and jerked his chin up slightly, half-defiant. "Just don't act like it's nothing for me to say it."
Cas fell silent for a moment, watching him. Those expressive eyebrows were slanting inwards, his mouth slightly open as though he was preparing to speak but still deciding on the words. There was still anger in his eyes, and confusion, and a whole bunch of other things that Dean was too scrambled to try and work out.
"I'm sorry-"
"Yeah, well, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't've interrupted your annoyances thing and I didn't exactly plan on saying it, it just sorta-"
"Dean, I do not want to talk about my petty irritations with you right now," Cas said, taking another deliberate step forward, a hint of a growl in his voice as he advanced, "though your constant misjudgement is certainly one of them. Perhaps I haven't made myself clear; I want to know if you meant it."
Dean let out a bitter laugh.
"Does it matter?"
Cas' jaw tightened, Dean saw the bone shift under his right ear.
"Why do you say that?" Cas asked, was that hurt in his voice, or pity?
Dean swallowed and looked away, taking a half-step back. Okay, so maybe he was a little bit of a coward.
"It doesn't matter because nothing has to change, Cas. And I know I've made some dumbass moves lately, like asking you to stay the night and makin' you keep me company while I cook but that won't happen again. But… I get it, you know? If you can't-" he cleared his throat, "If you're not okay with it, if you don't wanna see me around for a while, I get it. I know you don't want… whatever. And I'm sorry if it means that we can't keep what we got but… no hard feelings, Cas, it was… well, just… thank you. For all of it. And of course I meant it."
Cas blinked at him slowly, head still tilted, hair mussed and sticking up every which way, looking… well, looking goddamn adorable if he was being totally honest. And he was, he was done pretending, not that it was gonna do much good. He braced himself against the sedan, resting on the fingertips of one hand, the other clasping his own wrist. He gripped slightly harder than was strictly necessary, he could feel his bones shifting under the thin layer of skin, preparing to hear words of disgust, of rejection, or worse, of pity, generic platitudes that had never nor would ever be able to capture what they were, what they had had before Dean shoved his foot in his mouth and destroyed everything that had been so painstakingly built.
"I'm confused." Cas said, taking one final step so that they were almost touching, chest to chest. He must have been able to hear the way Dean's heart ratcheted up by at least three notches and the way he fought to keep breathing as the angel's eyes locked on his, "Are you telling me that you are in love with me, or are you breaking up with me?"
"Errr-" Dean said, witty as always. "Yes?"
Cas huffed and Dean felt the displaced air hit his neck, making goosebumps shoot up all over his body. Dean often thought of Cas as short, purely because seeing him stand next to Sam was comedic at best and he knew that he had an inch or two on him, but it was absurd to think that now, with the angel all up in his space and taking up the whole universe, blotting out the bunker entirely. It was moments like this that Dean could swear he almost glimpsed the angel encased in the vessel.
"You're impossible." Cas said, the faintest of smiles dancing across his lips, "You are the least possible thing to ever happen to me."
"I dunno, Cas, we've seen a lot of crazy."
"For an angel to love is beyond crazy, Dean. It can't happen. I'm not made that way, I can't."
Dean deflated slightly, setting himself more heavily against the car, here it comes, the end of another good thing.
"It seems your impossibility has rubbed off on me." Cas continued, reaching a hand up to trace delicately along Dean's jaw, the pads of his fingers barely brushing his skin. Dean shivered, he would have closed his eyes to savour the touch but he couldn't look away from Cas. "Because, despite the fact that I am not actually capable of love, Dean Winchester, I love you."
All of the air vanished from Dean's lungs and his stomach did an odd sort of somersault as the words bounced on his skull a few times before osmosis-ing into his brain. It wasn't until after he blinked a few times that he realised he'd been standing there for at least twenty seconds and he hadn't said a single damn thing. Cas was staring at him expectantly, a hint of amusement in his features, his hand still half-up as though he were debating making contact again. Dean wished he would.
"You-?" He said, his voice cracking and Cas nodded.
"I do." He said. "I think I have for a very long time, I just didn't know what it was."
"I think I've known for a long time." Dean confessed, "I just didn't let myself think about it, it was safer that way and I didn't think you wanted…" he trailed off and shrugged as nonchalantly as he was able.
Cas looked at him a moment, then, as slowly and gently as one would approach a cornered gazelle, he leaned up without breaking eye contact and pressed his lips to Dean's.
Dean's heart stuttered and may have stopped entirely, the only things he was sure of were the warmth blooming in his chest, the pressure on his mouth and the gentle humming of grace beneath it. Turns out, kissing Cas felt like life itself, he swore he could smell the tang of the ocean, he could hear birdsong, he could taste infinity on Cas' slightly chapped lips; every moment they had ever shared and every one they had wasted, dodging around each other, too afraid to make it real. But damn, was it real now.
Dean's fingers tangled in Cas' hair, pulling him closer as Cas crowded him backwards so he was held up between the rusting sedan and Cas' body, Dean let out a breathy gasp as he was pinned, his own legs had turned to Jell-O and were doing absolutely nothing useful. Their mouths moved together, exploring the different textures that each new angle revealed and savouring every one of them. Their breath mingled and once, Dean could have sworn he felt the murmur of his own name in the vibrations of the air as Cas pressed his body flush. One of Cas' hands cradled the back of his neck, the other rested on his hip, stroking softness into the skin with his thumb under the fabric of his shirt. The hand not in Cas' hair slid up the angel's back to grab a handful of that dumbass coat. The one that was as much a part of Cas now as that lopsided grin, or the smell of woodsmoke.
After an eternity experienced in a blink, they broke apart, panting heavily. Dean pulled just far enough away to meet Cas' eyes, just to confirm to himself that he hadn't imagined the love there, before he pulled Cas back in to bury his face into the crook of his neck, inhaling that familiar scent, feeling Cas' stubble scratch against his temple, quiet tears leaking from his eyes and dripping onto Cas' collar. His breath moistened the skin of Cas' neck and he tasted salt, his shoulders still shaking from the lingering power of that kiss.
Cas held him for a few moments, the pulse of his grace slowly regaining its usual calm rhythm under Dean's cheek.
"Now why on earth," He muttered quietly, stroking lazy circles on the back of the hunter's neck with one hand, "would I not want to experience that every day for the rest of my life?"
Dean chuckled into Cas' neck, then, after taking another hit of that smell he stepped back.
"Can't imagine." He said. "But the night I asked you to stay-"
"I told you I wanted you to be sure, Dean." Cas said, moving the hand from his waist to cup his cheek. Dean closed his eyes and chased the touch, practically nuzzling the angel's hand. "You were vulnerable and hurting and I didn't want to put you in a position that you would regret later." His eyes darted away then and his cheeks tinged a delicate pink, nothing like the mess of blotched tomato that Dean's face probably was right now, how could the angel look so perfect? Sex-hair and kiss-swollen lips and he still looked as composed as ever, they could be sat around the table in the war room, discussing their next move. "Or that I would."
Dean opened his eyes then, his head stilling in Cas' palm.
"You weren't sure either?" He asked.
Cas' hand fell away from his face, leaving a cold space behind, toying with the top button of his shirt instead, his gaze focused in on the action.
"No, I was sure." Cas said, "But I was sure of the fact that the single night you asked for wouldn't be nearly enough for me. I didn't want to indulge in a night with you, knowing that it would be the only one I would get. Sometimes it's better not to know what you're missing and it turns out that I have been missing you since the first time I saw your soul."
The hand on the back of Dean's neck pushed gently, causing Dean's head to bend forwards until their foreheads touched.
"I see you, Dean. And you are so beautiful."
"Cas." Dean breathed. All of his gratitude entwined in the name of the angel before him, "Castiel."
They stayed there for an indeterminate amount of time, just holding each other, allowing all of their years of fear, awkwardness and unspoken affection and concern to melt into it.
Eventually, as one, they let their hands fall and they stepped away. Dean felt like he'd been purged, almost hollowed out, but he had never felt so full. He smiled and reached out hesitantly to take Cas' hand in his own, twining their fingers together and holding tight. Then he pulled Cas from the garage and up the step into the bunker proper. It felt strange, holding Cas' hand. His own palm was slick with sweat and nerves tightened in his gut. He felt like a teenager on a first date, like he wasn't quite sure what the boundaries were yet, how much he was allowed to show. It was ridiculous, considering he and Cas had already seen the very worst of each other, but this was brand new territory for him, for both of them, and they still had a lot to work out. Dean, for one, couldn't wait to learn. He dragged Cas to the kitchen, where he figured Sam would be waiting for them and lo and behold his brother was leaning against the metal island, beer in hand, two more bottles ready. Cas tugged him back a moment and gave him a questioning look. Are you sure? Dean smiled and squeezed his hand, stepping into the kitchen, even as his gut twisted in knots.
"Are you two done fighting? Can we actually celebrate now?" Sam said sarcastically, lowering his bottle and turning to look at the two of them. Dean said nothing, waiting for Sam's eyes to drop to where his hand was joined to the angel's. It took him a few seconds, perhaps they'd been in the garage longer than he'd thought if Sam had had more than one beer, but when Sam noticed, his eyes widened and his head shot up to stare at Dean, shock in his every pore.
"You-?" He asked, flicking his finger between him and Cas.
Dean nodded, holding his breath. He wasn't sure what he expected, awkwardness maybe, probing questions, bafflement. What he wasn't prepared for was the anger he saw in Sam's face. Dean actually took a step back with the force of it.
"Seriously?" He said, running a hand through his hair and scoffing derisively. "Man, how could I get you so wrong?"
"Sammy-"
"Two days, Dean, two. You couldn't've held out for that long?"
"I- err." Dean stammered as the foundation of his world began to crumble.
"Sam." Cas said, taking a half-step forward and angling himself in front of Dean protectively. "After everything that we have been through together, I wouldn't have expected this of you. I have to say, I'm disappointed."
"You're disappointed?" Sam shot back, pulling out his phone. "I now owe Claire five hundred bucks."
There was a beat where Cas looked to Dean for clarification, who had none.
"Excuse me?"
Sam sighed and tipped his head back. "I bet Claire that you two would get your heads out of your asses after six months of you being back, Claire bet three. Two days away from the halfway point and of course it just so happens that we're all hopped up on the adrenaline of a successful mission. Man, she is never letting me live this down."
Dean stared at his brother like he'd lost his mind and swallowed hard. "So, uh…" He said, "Do you have a problem with this or…?"
He braced himself for the worst, he didn't know what he would do if Sam was vehemently against whatever it was that Dean and Cas were now. He'd never wanted to choose between his brother and the angel he loved, it was part of the reason he'd never let himself admit how important Cas was to him. Like what John had said, now, faced with the choice, he'd actually hesitate.
"What?" Sam said distractedly after thumbing out a message on his phone and shoving it back into his pocket. When he looked up and saw whatever terrified expression was on Dean's face, his eyes widened and he rushed forward, plunking his empty beer bottle back onto the island and taking Dean's shoulders in his hands. "Oh, God no! Dean, I'm so sorry if you thought- that never even occurred to me. Look, I've seen the way that you two look at each other, the way you act around each other, the way you care about each other. He loves you and he makes you happy. How could I possibly have a problem with that? Come here." Sam pulled him into a hug and Dean let go of Cas' hand to return it properly.
"I'm so proud of you, Dean." Sam muttered quietly, just for him, though he knew Cas would only be pretending not to be able to hear. "I know it's been a long road."
"Thanks, Sammy." Dean mumbled. It meant a lot, a hell of a lot, more than he could even express that nothing was going to change between him and his brother.
When Dean pulled back, Sam tugged Cas in for a hug too.
"You deserve to be happy too, okay?" He said, "Don't let Dean push you around too much."
"Hey!"
"And don't you don't act like you're too cool for the mushy stuff. We all know how much you love chick-flicks, dude."
Dean blushed, "Alright, that's enough relationship advice from you. Hand me that beer."
Sam laughed and passed it over, handing the other to Cas and getting a third out for himself. They all took their seats at the table, Dean and Cas' knees bumping together companionably. After a few seconds, Cas' phone pinged with a text. He pulled it out, confused, pretty much the only two people who text him were in the room. Then his face softened as he looked at the screen. He showed it to Dean who leaned over to read it properly, it was from Claire.
Nice 1 nerds. About time.
And a few dollar emojis. Dean snorted.
"She is somethin' else." He said, chuckling. Cas agreed, typing out a reply that was probably loaded with emojis of his own before tucking his phone away.
Seeing as Dean had used up the last of the fresh ingredients for the soup and none of them thought it would be a good idea to go for a proper grocery run for a few days in case Asmodeus was gonna come for them, they debated between ordering pizza or making do with the seemingly endless dried and canned foods in the pantry that the Men of Letters had kept stocked. Despite the bunker being a permanent home for them for several years now, and the fact that they dipped into that store more often than they probably should, they had barely made the tiniest dent in the sheer amount of food.
In the end, Dean whipped up a fried rice dish with canned vegetables and a sauce packet he found in the cupboard. Cas had argued that any delivery person could be possessed and didn't think it was worth the risk, and seeing as Dean's counter argument was 'gooey cheese', he lost that one. It wasn't bad either, Dean thought as he and Sam dug in, though it had nothing on the soup. Cas seemed less interested in tasting this one but Dean resolved that one day, he was gonna make Cas a proper, non-processed-to-hell burger and watch as he ate it. Or at least give him a bite of his, depending on how long Cas was able to activate his tastebuds for.
"I have a question, Sam." Cas said at one point after Sam had cleared away and washed the dishes, leaving them on the side to put away later. "Were you really going to take five hundred dollars off a young hunter who has no source of income besides hustling pool?"
Sam barked a laugh and came to sit back at the table, bringing fresh beers for all of them, Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam, curious. It wasn't like his brother to get pissy about money.
"Nah," Sam said, grinning, "If I won, she was gonna have to do all of Jody's chores for the month."
"You bet that against five hundred dollars?" Dean said. "Man, that's weak."
Sam shrugged, "Hey, Jody can use all the help she can get." He said, "Alex, Claire and Patience have got to be a handful, especially with Claire picking up cases on her own. The money will come in handy. Plus, you know... the personal satisfaction of being right."
"Do we even have five hundred dollars?" Dean asked.
"Err… no but," Sam pulled out his wallet and checked his card. "Albert P. Robins does."
Dean rolled his eyes but smiled, popping open his beer.
"May she use it well."
They clinked bottles and stayed up talking until Dean's eyes began to itch with tiredness.
"Well," He said, standing, "I for one am ready to call it a night. Or morning, whatever. Night, Sam."
"Night." Sam said with a nod.
Dean made it to the hallway before he paused, frowning. Then he walked the few steps back to hover in the kitchen doorway. Sam was staring at Cas across the table, his eyebrows in his hair. Cas was frowning back, looking uncomfortable.
"Did you forget something?" Cas asked him. Dean stammered out a few nonsensical syllables before Sam took pity on the angel and leaned forward conspiratorially.
"Go with him, dumbass." He said.
"Oh," Cas said, jumping up with awkward, jerky movements. "Right. Um… goodnight, Sam."
Sam's laughter followed them out.
Dean shook his head and pressed his lips together. Now that the heat and the emotional high of the garage had worn off, Dean was feeling decidedly less brave. Their hands bumped together as they walked but neither of them tried to take hold.
"Am I expected to stay in your room now?" Cas asked suddenly.
Dean winced, though the words were no less tense than the silence that preceded them.
"No, Cas, you're not expected to do anything you don't want. I get that you've got your own room and your own nightly routine or whatever, but you are welcome."
The inflection at the end made it sound like a question, made only more humiliating when they stopped outside Dean's door.
"Why does this feel so strange?" Cas asked him. "We have both experienced things that ordinary people can't even comprehend, and this, one, human thing, neither of us seem to know how to act. Even after we kissed. Shouldn't we know what to do next?"
"You've been watching too many movies." Dean said, studiously ignoring the fact that most movies Cas had watched had been recommendation of his. "That kiss was… epic, but it doesn't automatically fix everything. This is the part after the movie when the audience has gone home and we still need to figure out how to make this work. We've both got stuff. I'm all kinds of screwed up and you've got your own issues and none of that is the sexy stuff they show on screen, plus we've still got the world to save. It isn't gonna be easy, Cas. I can't promise you easy. But I can promise you that I'm gonna try. And if it's too much, if at any point, you want out, you don't even need a reason, all you gotta do is say so. And you're still my best friend, that doesn't change."
"Good." Cas said, smiling. "I am looking forward to figuring things out with you."
Dean flushed.
"Good." He echoed, reaching for the door handle.
"I think I will stay with you tonight, if you're amenable."
"Oh, I'm amenable." Dean said, throwing on the flirty smile that he knew Cas could see right through, "I'm all kinds of amenable."
Cas chuckled behind him as Dean opened the door and walked in. Shucking off his jacket and tossing it into the laundry basket. Apparently, Cas had mojoed his clothes clean of bloodstains along with the healing. Awesome, he liked this shirt. He paused as he started to undo the top button and turned back to Cas, who was watching him curiously. Dean figured his biggest failure was communication. And if he wanted to start this thing off right, he had to start by setting up good habits.
"I- err… I don't know if I should undress in front of you or not." He said, feeling foolish.
Cas tilted his head and waited.
"Look, okay, so this is gonna be awkward but I've gotta ask. You know I said that thing about consent the other day? And before, how you're not expected to do anything you don't wanna do? Those things are true, always, and if… if sex isn't a thing that you wanna do, then that's fine. It doesn't change how I feel about you. But I don't wanna overstep, so, I guess I'm asking what your boundaries are?"
He stopped himself there before he began babbling, it was hard to hold Cas' eye, but he did. And then, suddenly, Cas was a lot closer.
"I would like to experience sex with you, Dean." He said, his voice low and heated and sending a shiver down Dean's spine, "I would like to experience everything with you. But right now, I really, really want to kiss you again."
"Awesome." Dean breathed, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, a movement that Cas caught. It was Dean who closed the gap this time, one arm slipping around Cas' waist, pulling him in as he leaned forward to capture Cas' lips, the other coming up to stroke his cheek. Cas moaned into the kiss and the sound shorted something in Dean's brain. Cas' hands scrabbled at his chest, popping free the first button and then the second until he was pushing the fabric off his shoulders. Dean let go briefly to let the shirt fall to the floor and then his own hands changed tactic; first the coat, then the button down, then, after a moment's hesitation, the tie, the clothing pooled at their feet as their lips and tongues slid against each other. Dean made a noise that was not unlike a whimper as Cas pushed the t-shirt over his head and explored his chest and back, the calloused fingers leaving trails of heat on his skin that tingled with lingering grace.
"Dean."
And there was that music again, infused with his name, mingling with the smell of woodsmoke. Dean's lips left Cas' and he began to press soft kisses into the angel's neck. Revelling in the way that Cas' breathing became more laboured, and little gasps and moans accompanied certain spots, he filed away that information for later, tonight was about learning. Cas' hands gripped his hair as he tasted and tested. He loved the way Cas tugged at the short strands. He walked them backwards until the backs of Cas' knees hit the bed. Then, there was a break as they both sat down to kick off their shoes, during which they met each other's eyes and began to giggle.
"Is this one of those 'non-sexy' bits?" Cas asked as he pulled off his left sock.
"Hey, at least your feet don't smell." Dean teased. "I've been sweating in these boots all damn day."
"Charming."
Dean waggled his eyebrows.
"I'm here all night."
"I would hope so."
"Pants too? While we're here."
Cas let out a long-suffering sigh, "I suppose," he said, a twinkle in his eye, "while we're here."
Dean grinned and undid his belt, pulling it from the loops and dropping it onto the pile of clothes. Then he stood to undo his pants and shimmied them off too. Cas did the same next to him.
"And these?" He asked innocently, plucking at the waistband of his boxers as he stepped out of his trousers. "What should I do with these?"
Dean's mouth went dry, his heart thudding like a manic toddler on a drum set. Cas was here, standing in his room, mostly naked, looking at him with love and mischief in his eyes. Dean took a moment to take it all in. He could have this, he thought suddenly. This moment was his and he could enjoy it; but better than that, so much better, he could share it.
"Oh, don't you worry." Dean said, walking forward and dipping his thumbs into the groove of Cas' hipbones, watching as Cas' pupils dilated with lust. "I'll take care of those."
Xxx
A little while later, Dean's head rested on Cas' chest while the angel hummed something he couldn't name and stroked circles on his bicep. Dean traced the contours of his lover's torso with his fingers, dancing over the ridges of the ribs that he could feel if he applied a little pressure. Cas might be all muscle and angelic wrath but he was too skinny by far, that's what happened when you didn't need to eat.
Dean's entire being thrummed with joy, ebbing and flowing with the grace that permeated Cas' body. He still couldn't wrap his head around it, that Cas wanted him like this, even knowing about Alastair, about Hell, about his time as a demon, everything. But he did, and that was gonna take some getting used to. He already felt like he was half in a dream. But no, because he knew what delusion blending into reality felt like, and it wasn't warm and comfortable and happy.
"Hey, Cas?" Dean said suddenly, remembering a question from what felt like months ago, "what do my ribs say?"
He raised his head to look over at him. The humming stopped and Cas looked back at him with a shy smile.
"They say several things." He said demurely.
"Aww come on." Dean said, propping himself up on his elbows, raising his head from Cas' chest, but making sure his arms pressed into the angel's side. So he liked to touch, sue him. "Tell me."
"You might laugh."
"Probably."
Cas rolled his eyes.
"You're lucky I like it when you laugh."
Dean huffed.
"You seemed to like it when I was screaming too."
Cas chuckled deeply, his whole body vibrating with it. His smile was wide and gummy and gorgeous and Dean was having a hard time not leaning up to kiss him.
"That was… certainly thrilling." Cas said. "I didn't know you would be so loud."
Dean flushed, embarrassed but Cas' hand was there, stroking his cheek.
"It was wonderful," He said, perfectly serious again, "to know that I could cause you pleasure like that, to watch you let go of your reservations, even if only for a few moments. You love so deeply, Dean, that sometimes that love can't find its way up to the surface. It was beautiful to see, the most amazing miracle."
"You weren't so bad yourself." Dean said gruffly. "I love you."
Cas' face lit up, like it had done every time Dean had uttered those words to him. Dean couldn't get enough of that expression, so much so that it was actually getting easier for him to say the words. But he resolved never to say them without feeling it, that warm rush of affection that eclipsed everything but his love for the angel. He wouldn't let those words turn hollow, they were too important.
"And I love you." Cas responded, and Dean felt himself grin too. Damn, he was already turning into a sap. "Now, sit up, let me read your ribs."
"You don't remember what they say?"
"I do." Cas said, "But I like to see them."
"Kinky."
Cas laughed and shifted so that he was leaning back against the headboard. Dean grumbled a little but sat up, baring his torso for Cas' scrutiny. He only felt a little weird doing so, which he guessed was progress. Cas raised a hand and passed it over Dean's ribs, lingering on a red mark that he had left there only a few minutes before. Dean shivered as a thin layer of grace reacted to the contact. Cas' eyes creased with concentration and he laid one finger at what, presumably, was the start of the writing.
"I have prepared this soul for much glory," He read, "and will spill the blood of his enemies. This most exquisite work of man is to be treasured and praises sung of his name. If you seek to divide, no dwelling shall hide thee. If you seek to upset this balance you will be purged with the fire of Heaven and torn apart as unto sharp sickles. And all of your creation and thy contents shall turn rotten."
"Sharp sickles?" Dean asked in a brief pause, raising an eyebrow.
"The bond was fresh." Cas said, shrugging, "I was protective."
"Right."
Cas smiled and trailed his finger up to the top of the left hand side of Dean's chest, seemingly done with the right. Apparently, Cas had carved the letters to be read as one looked at him from the front.
"The face of this soul is known to all, and the wrath of this servient angel of fire will be terrible to behold. He liveth because our Lord and Master hath made it so, and he is bonded to the warrior Castiel, who is his. And you shall tremble and bow before the will of your God."
Cas let his hand drop. Dean sat there on his knees, processing the words.
"A little heavy-handed at the end there, don'tcha think?"
"Perhaps a little."
"An 'exquisite work of man' huh?"
Cas blushed. "I barely knew you then." He said, "I had no idea how true it was."
"Dork." Dean said, leaning over to kiss him again. It was languid and lazy but no less electrifying for it. Dean wondered if that feeling would ever fade. He hoped not.
"I thought they were supposed to hide us from angels anyway." Dean said after a few moments, flopping back down onto the bed, "Not warn them that you're gonna beat them up."
"Some of the runes do both." Cas said, "But there are more protective and concealing ones on your sternum, though those don't really translate into any human language."
"So what's Sam got? The same?"
"He has the same protection and a similar warning, though the phrasing is less..."
"Ridiculous?"
"Specific." Cas finished with a hard look.
Dean snickered, then yawned, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth to cover it; he'd completely forgotten his own exhaustion in the whirlwind of emotions since leaving the kitchen, but as tired as he was, in all the good ways, he didn't want to sleep yet. A small part of him, though not so small as he would like, was convinced that if he fell asleep then the past few hours would turn out to be a fever dream and he'd still be bleeding out on the cold concrete floor of a warehouse in Kentucky.
Unfortunately, though unsurprisingly, Cas noticed the yawn and pulled Dean up so that he could lie down properly, shifting the pillow over. Dean made an indignant sound at the manhandling but didn't struggle. He wasn't in his twenties anymore and sleepless nights took more out of him than they used to.
"You don't gotta tuck me in, Cas." He grumbled.
Cas just hummed and pulled up the duvet before pressing a kiss into Dean's shoulder which, yes, made him go all gooey inside.
"Do you want me to read you a bedtime story?" He asked, blinking down at Dean with those impassive eyes.
"Shut up." Dean snorted, pushing the angel lightly before turning over, smashing his head against the pillow to mould it into a more comfortable shape.
It wasn't until he realised that he had his back to Cas that the fear started to set in. Would Cas think he wanted him to leave? Did he think his turning away was an indication that he was pissed, or wanted to be alone? Would Cas leave anyway because he knew he was gonna get bored sitting on a bed for five or so hours with nothing to distract him but Dean's snoring? Because he did that now, got bored. Dean wrestled down the panic. So what if he went off to do his own thing? That was good, right? He couldn't expect him to want to spend every second of the goddamn day with him. Cas had a lot of downtime while the humans slept, He'd once told him that he enjoyed that time when he had the bunker to himself without having to worry about the safety of the brothers. It wouldn't be fair for Dean to ask him to give that up. So he wouldn't ask Cas to stay. He wouldn't.
The bed shifted as Cas moved and Dean was so busy preparing to hear the rustle of clothes and the click of his bedroom door that he almost flinched when the angel smoothed himself against Dean's back, knees bent behind his, arms encircling him, warm and stable and there. Dean shuffled back against him, trying to feel as much of Cas as he could. Cas' lips touched down on Dean's left shoulder, where his mark had once been, and they stayed there for a long moment. Dean gasped at the sensation.
"What is that?" He breathed, tipping his head back as his shoulder tingled with pleasure, almost erotic, pulsing and sweet.
Cas' lips left his skin and the feeling ebbed away.
"Our bond." Cas answered. "Reacting to the way my grace and your soul connect. We forged something new tonight, Dean; something beautiful and strong and precious. It was always there, just… raw and without form." He sighed against Dean's skin, sending a flicker of power through his shoulder. "These kinds of connections were only myth, even in my lifespan I never heard of one being real. It wasn't possible, a horror story for angels who thought too much about humans, for those angels who bonded them. But it doesn't actually do much. It's just a feeling, a concept that once, was terrifying to me, but now… it's just another experience I get to share with you."
He kissed Dean's shoulder once more before lying down properly, still hugging him close, his breath tickling the back of Dean's neck.
"Sleep." He said, his voice a calm timbre amid Dean's swirling thoughts. "I'll watch over you."
Dean closed his eyes and settled into Cas' hold. A feeling was swelling inside him, pushing at his throat, leaking from his eyes, relaxing his muscles as sleep began to tug insistently. But he shook it off, just a little longer.
"Hey, Cas?"
"Hmm?"
"You were wrong. On my ribs."
Cas sighed, "I lied about being the angel of fire. That's Jehoel. He was one of Uriel's followers, he died in the Fall. Though Michael is often associated with fire too. 'This angel of Thursday' wouldn't have quite had the same impact."
"I meant the part about you being mine."
Cas stilled and Dean could sense the confusion.
"Dean, I've always been yours."
"No." Dean insisted, twisting in the angel's arms so he faced him, bringing his hands up to cup Cas' face. "You don't belong to me, Cas. You don't belong to anyone, that's what freedom is. We don't belong to each other. What we got isn't holding each other's leash. What we got is finding belonging with each other and choosing to hold on."
Cas' smile was slow and bright, even in the dark room. "You are very wise." He said, kissing him on the forehead. "And very tired. Sleep, not-my-hunter. Your worries are for tomorrow."
Dean huffed, pressing himself closer to not-his-angel, slinging an arm over his waist and holding on tight.
It's done.
I can't believe it's actually done!
Once again, thank you all, your amazing support and feedback has kept me going through all the twists, turns and blocks. I really couldn't have done it without you.
So... *wrings hands tentatively* what do you think? Do you like the ending? I'm telling you now, THAT scene was SO close to becoming outright smut, which would have been my first attempt, but I kinda really like the break where it is. Do you? Your opinions matter and I wanna hear 'em all. The good, the bad and the weird.
Love Tibbins xx
