What Home Looks Like
Chapter 11: Secrets and Lies
ONE YEAR LATER
Twelve months had passed since Ezekiel had been ejected from Sam Winchester, and since the Angels had been returned to Heaven and Metatron had safely been locked up in Asgardian prison. According to Castiel, there was still no sign of God, and the Angel was increasingly busy running things upstairs. Shield had been quiet, as well, in fact, life for the three unlikely hunters had been normal – well, as normal as a hunter's life could be, anyway. Sam and Dean continued to hunt; Dean and Loki continued acting like a pair of love-sick puppies that bolted from opportunity every time a chance came up for them to express their true feelings; all was well.
Although Loki couldn't help but notice that over the last few days, the Winchester brothers had been nothing short of moody. It wasn't until he was walking down a city high street – visiting a shopkeeper who may or may not have sold a cursed replica Grimoire – and he happened to walk by a greetings card shop with a giant, baby pink poster in the window that read 'THIS WEEKEND – HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!'
"Mother's Day." Loki muttered to himself, it was obvious now. Any mention of the Winchester's late mother, Mary, and the pair sank into a deep depression – justifiably so – since her murder had deprived them of the family they'd always wanted. But it wasn't long before Loki's mind drifted from their mother and onto his own. It had been over a year since he'd been home – or what used to be home – he still believed this had all been for the best, and he was happy; happier than he'd ever been, but whenever his old life crossed his mind, he felt an indescribable pain and misery, and guilt. He hated thinking of his mother because he missed her, but also because he was terrified that, if he ever did return, she wouldn't want him back.
"Hey." He said rather dully as the Bunker door slammed shut behind him.
"Hey." Dean greeted in reply, decidedly cheerier. Loki found him in the conference room, feet propped up on the table, flicking absentmindedly through the stack of papers in his hands.
Dean hadn't changed much since the previous year, the only noticeable difference was that he'd grown a little scruff over the past couple of months. He put it down to being busy and overworked but the reality of the situation was that Loki had mentioned that he liked it all of one time and Dean didn't have the heart to shave it off.
Loki hadn't changed that much, either. He still tended to wear his hair off of his face, and he tended to favour black clothes above others, but he occasionally stretched to greys and whites. Today, he wore a loose-fitting bottle-green shirt over a pair of black jeans, and Dean smiled as he watched him walk in, reminded of an armoured warrior he once knew.
"Was the Grimoire cursed?" Dean asked.
"No." Loki admitted glumly, dumping his shoulder bag unceremoniously on the table and walking in the direction of the kitchen. "It was a replica. Do you want coffee?"
"Woah, hold up." Dean called out, standing up. Loki stilled and turned to him.
"What's up with you, grumpy guts?" Dean asked.
"Nothing." Loki said unconvincingly.
Dean folded his arms and fixed him with a stare. "Come on, I can read you like a book. What's bothering you?"
Loki sighed. "Same thing that's bothering you."
Dean frowned. "What's been bothering me?"
"The non-stop commercialisation of a certain holiday event…Come on, I can read you like a book, too."
Dean's eyes suddenly met the floor as it occurred to him. "Okay, fine." He sighed. "I admit I get a little grumpy when people's happy family's get shoved in my face…wait, the same thing?" The penny dropped and Dean's eyes locked with Loki. "Of course, you miss your mom, too."
"I don't want to talk about it." Loki said quickly. "I'll make coffee."
And he was out of the room before Dean could say another word.
…
It was true that Dean had spent a lot of time recently thinking about his mother, he always did around this time of year, but he had unexpectedly started thinking of Loki's mother as well.
He didn't know a lot about Frigga, only what Loki had told him, which wasn't much, just that she had taught him magic and basically raised and nurtured him while Odin had been busy preparing Thor for the Asgardian throne. Of all the people Loki had left behind, it was obvious that it was Thor and Frigga that he missed the most, but he never spoke about either of them.
But while Dean could not rectify his own situation, he could still help Loki.
And that was why he sat Loki down two days later under the pretence of a 'chat'.
"I always get worried when you want to chat." Loki admitted, looking genuinely sceptical as he perched on the end of Dean's bed, his gaze briefly lifted to the weapon Dean had fashioned in Purgatory hanging above his bed. "What's blown up?"
Dean laughed. "Nothing, thankfully. No, um, I was thinking…have you thought about going back to Asgard?"
"What?"
"Not permanently, obviously. Just, like, for a visit. To see your mom, I know you've been thinking about her."
There was a pause.
"What's brought this on?" Loki asked slowly.
"You were right the other day." Dean admitted. "Me and Sam do get moody around Mother's Day, unintentionally, it got me thinking…there's nothing stopping you visiting Frigga if you wanted to."
Loki was silent for a long moment.
"I can't." He said eventually. "I can't go back. Besides, I'm happy here."
"I know." Dean assured him quickly, briefly wondering why he was digging himself into a deep hole. "But you miss her, you can't cut her out forever. I wish I could see my mom that easily."
Loki's eyes snapped up to his.
"That came out wrong." Dean said immediately.
Loki, however, had the closest thing to anger in his eyes that Dean had ever seen.
"Will you just butt out?" The God asked rhetorically, sounding irritated. "It's not the same."
"Yeah, I know." Dean said. "That was harsh, I'm sorry, I know it's not easy to go back."
Loki sighed and shook his head, suddenly becoming very interested in the loose threads on the corner of Dean's quilt. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. I'm just defensive. If the truth be told, I'm completely terrified of going back. Like it's going to bring everything back again."
"You made the right decision the first time, it was the right thing to do. You have more control over your life and your choices than you did before, I think you'd be just fine. But hey, I've always had faith in you." Dean was grinning cheekily at him now and Loki wanted to punch him in face for being so irritatingly attractive.
"Besides- "Dean continued. "You're a part of our family now, whether you like it or not."
Loki smiled shyly across the bed at him. "No one's ever cared for me as much as you. It's mildly disconcerting." He'd leant in closer to Dean to say that, lowering his voice slightly and Dean couldn't help but shift closer to him on the bed, playing along.
"You know," he said equally as quietly with a touch of humour in his voice. "You might be a badass hunter now, but I still see that weirdly dressed guy I found in a parking lot."
Loki sobered slightly as the memory returned to him, obviously taking him back to that night and the moments that had preceded it.
Dean smiled shallowly. "You told me that night that you were heartless. But it's not true, it never has been.
The pair suddenly became aware of how close they'd unconsciously become. Loki could smell Dean's familiar musk – coffee and old book pages, mixed with the slightly sweet scent of his shower gel and that unmistakable smell of human body heat, not smells naturally associated with seduction, but Loki felt pretty damn turned on right now.
"Do you remember something else about the night we met?" Loki asked boldly. "When we shook hands."
"I remember." Dean said, voice low and ragged as if he didn't have enough air in his lungs to speak. He held his breath as he watched Loki inch his head across the bed and thread is fingers with Dean. Dean was forever perplexed by Loki's slightly cool skin but he'd never change the feel of it against his own.
"You're bold today." Dean said, voice amused but heavy.
Loki merely shrugged. "I'm in a strange mood today."
Dean laughed, light and happy, feeling that same spark of electrical energy he'd felt that first night, but it was accompanied now by a familiarity, a bond of trust and faith between two people. Dean didn't act on his urges the first night because that's all they'd been, urges, but now it was feelings, genuine feelings, and he could act now. He could. So that's what he did.
The noise that escaped Loki when Dean pressed his lips to his for the first time was almost fearful. Like that fear you experience when you finally get what you want, and you're terrified of what it will mean; what you'll risk losing, what will happen if this thing is taken away.
Loki's hand found Dean's neck almost immediately, instinctively pulling him closer. The moving of Dean's mouth against Loki's, the softness of his lips, the feel of his strong hands as they settled on his waist…Loki was in Heaven.
He wanted, he needed the kiss to deepen, to last forever, he melted against Dean, lips going lax as he attempted to open Dean's mouth with his own. Dean let out a slight whimper as he felt the hot, wet, addictive press of Loki's tongue against his own for the very first time.
The kiss was both passionate and extremely gentle at the same time, something they were experiencing both at the first time and for the millionth time, from another life perhaps; the reconnection of atoms split since the birth of the universe, finding each other again. Not finding home within one another, exactly, rather creating a new home, one that was unequivocally warm and safe, and theirs.
Dean pulled back, too scared to speak, and his fearful eyes met Loki's confused ones for the briefest of seconds before he was gone, whisking out of the room at lightning speed.
"Dean!" Loki called, but only silence greeted him in return. It took Loki a moment to truly appreciate, sitting alone on Dean's bed, that he was shaking.
He lifted his hand before his eyes and saw it moving imperceptibly; out of his control.
Loki immediately felt like he'd done something wrong, he felt guilt as well as a sense of profound apology for whatever sin he must have committed. He felt himself slipping immediately back into the same wretched, diseased mindset he'd occupied every day of his life in Asgard. Like sense-memory. All it took was one rejection, and it reminded him of every time he'd never been good enough before.
Loki shook his head, forcing his clouded mind to clear, and centred himself on Midgard, on Earth, and on the empty space on the bed in front of him where Dean's warmth had occupied.
Now cold.
…
ONE YEAR AGO
Zeke was forced to return to his original vessel, he didn't have much of choice when he was expelled from Sam Winchester. He believed that Dean wouldn't have hurt him, but with Dean lying unconscious on the floor and that wretched demon Crowley, Crowley, who had called him 'Zeke' with such sarcasm that he almost believed that Crowley knew the truth of his identity.
But how could he know? Then again, he didn't care to know the ways of the demons.
So, with Crowley threatening him with the angel blade, Zeke had had no choice but to flee, still injured, still banished from Heaven. Not because the angels had fell, obviously the Winchesters had fixed it, but because of who he was and what he had done. So, he'd had no choice but to return to the bartender and hide inside of him until he was healed and had figured out what the hell he was supposed to do next. No pun intended.
He'd felt guilty, the bartender seemed to just be getting his life back on track before Zeke had returned to him, but the guilt was easily forgotten because Zeke considered his needs above the bartender's. He just wished that Dean Winchester could have seen that, too.
Zeke sat in his old vessel, feeling strangely at home but missing Sam Winchester dearly. He supposed at least he had been able to fully heal the hunter before he'd been ejected, unceremoniously, from the deal they had made.
Ezekiel had died in the fall. He'd learnt that much from being attacked by Bartholomew and his fellow angels, which meant that Ezekiel's life was waiting there, to be taken over.
He shook his head immediately, he couldn't even entertain the possibility of returning to Heaven and trying to be an angel again, people would know who he was immediately. Although…no one had seen Gadreel in millennia, maybe, just maybe, he might get away with it.
After hours of talking himself in and out of it, Zeke decided he had nothing else to lose and was going to take the chance. He stood, closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. When he opened them, he was in Heaven.
PRESENT DAY
A year had passed since Zeke had been ejected from Sam and since he'd made the decision to return to Heaven with his brothers and sisters and resume Ezekiel's life for him. And it had worked.
His brothers and sisters had welcomed Ezekiel back with open arms, grateful that he had survived the fall contrary to what they had heard. He'd resumed Ezekiel's role in Heaven and had gotten on with his life, he hadn't been back to Earth since. People still searched for Gadreel but no one had figured out that it was the man they entrusted, and hopefully, they never would.
One day, Zeke was walking through one of Heaven's buildings, ready to report to his boss, Naomi, about his days' work, but paused outside of the door when he heard her in rather heated conversation with two other angels, a girl, and a guy that Zeke didn't know.
Instead of leaving to give them some privacy, Zeke pressed his ear against the door and listened, and heard one word that made his blood, if he'd had any, instantly boil.
"It's definitely Crowley." The man was saying.
Crowley.
"He's been laying low for a while," the woman said, "running hell quite smoothly but now angels have been turning up dead and it's the work of a demon."
"Where?" Naomi asked, voice stiff.
"Denver." The man said. "There's a trail of angel and demon corpses like a road through the state, it seems the demons have barricaded themselves in a town house, 34rd avenue, Crowley's been spotted there several times this month alone…"
Zeke didn't even bother to stay and listen to the rest of the conversation before he had his angel blade in his hand and was on Earth. It was night in Denver, and the stars sparkled in the clear sky but Zeke didn't care. Crowley was the reason he'd been forced to leave Sam Winchester, Crowley had tried to kill him and this was exactly the reason he needed to make him pay.
34rd Avenue was an old storage lock up, and as Zeke approached the door, he could hear the sounds of a fight coming from the inside. He pressed his ear to the door and then jumped back as the door rattled heavily, as if a body had just been thrown against it.
Zeke took a breath and then kicked the door in, the metal door flung off of his hinges by his superior angel strength, and the scene that greeted him was not the one he had expected.
Crowley was not murdering a horde of Angels, rather, Crowley was on his back, heavily beaten, with a stiletto pressed to his throat while five demon corpses with their faces torn apart were scattered across the floor like rag dolls.
The stiletto-clad woman turned to him as she heard him enter and smiled, all red lipstick and fiery red hair and Zeke stilled.
"Abaddon." He said.
Abaddon released Crowley's throat and the demon coughed and spluttered before getting on his hands and feet and shuffling to safety. But this went largely unnoticed by Abaddon as she crossed the space between herself and Zeke, folding her arms and grinning at him.
"Another angel." She said. "I thought you'd been staying away from Earth since your precious doorway had been reopened. Especially you, Gadreel. I thought they would have locked you back up by now."
Zeke cocked his head to the side, clutching his angel blade tighter in his hand. "What is a knight of Hell doing going after someone like Crowley?"
Abaddon fixed him with a steely gaze, all humour gone. "I don't care about Metatron or Heaven, I care about Hell. I'm going to rule it, I'm going to be the Queen. And no self-proclaimed King, or men of letters, or hunters are going to stand in my way." She suddenly produced a blade that Zeke hadn't seen before and drew it back, ready to shove it into his chest. "And no angels, for that matter."
The blade came forward and penetrated air, and Abaddon growled in anger, gathered herself and then turned back, looking for Crowley.
Whoever that angel was going to run to, would be no match for, not any of the legions of Heaven. Unless…
She stopped in her tracks, blade clacking to the floor. In equal parts smelling fear and opportunity.
"Winchester."
…
Zeke appeared a few blocks away, breathing heavily and stowing his blade before anyone noticed. The knight of Hell that had caused so much trouble before was back, and looking to become Queen of Hell. Who knew what kind of disastrous, calamitous mayhem she could cause with that kind of power, with all those demons at her disposal.
He immediately went to return to Heaven and tell Naomi before he stopped in his tracks. Abaddon knew who he was, and if she got wind that he'd alerted Heaven to her presence, it would take nothing at all, just one word from her pretty little mouth, and it would tear down the life he'd spent the last year building for himself.
He sighed as he realised there was only really one person he could tell about all of this. The only person who could really help.
Dean Winchester.
…
Dean had largely ignored Loki for the next few weeks after their first kiss. He only spoke to him when he had to and he got instantly flustered whenever they accidentally ended up alone together.
Loki wasn't so much offended as he was hurt. Dean wasn't being cruel, he was just scared. And, honestly, acting like a bit of an idiot.
Loki had tried to corner the Winchester on several occasions but had failed, the seasoned hunter being the master of escapism, and Loki, well, he was terrified.
He was miserable, of course, that he'd had feelings for Dean for such a long time and it seemed like the farthest thing from what Dean wanted to happen between them. But he was also terrified that he'd just lost Dean, period. That he wasn't just uninterested in being his lover, but he wasn't interested in being his friend or his mentor anymore.
Maybe Sif had been right, maybe no one wanted him. Maybe he was a serpent.
"So, you going to tell me what's up?" Sam asked, plonking himself down next to Loki on the step in the conference room. Loki jumped, of course he'd known Sam was there, he wouldn't be a very good warrior otherwise, but he hadn't expected him to approach him.
He guessed he'd expected Sam to be mad at him as well as Dean, which was bizarre when he really thought about it. Sam was his friend, and he was tall and muscular and really, really reminded Loki of Thor. But in more of calming and comforting way than an upsetting way.
Suddenly, having Sam sat next to him, offering him words of comfort at this distressing time made him feel better, like his own brother was sat next to him again.
"Dean didn't tell you?" Loki asked, fingering the strings on his black hoodie.
Sam shook his head. "He's barely spoken to me. Did you guys, I don't know, fight or something?"
Loki paused for a moment, having an internal debate before he sighed. He was too tired to pretend.
"We kissed."
Sam was silent for a moment.
"I knew it." He said.
Loki turned to him, shocked. "What do you mean you knew it?"
Sam shrugged. "It was only a matter of time, dude. You and Dean, you've been dancing around each other for years. It was getting kind of annoying, actually."
Loki laughed which soon turned into a sob, but he checked himself before he full on cried. He refused to lose face in front of Sam like that.
"Yeah, I think you knew about this before we did."
"Don't worry about Dean going mental." Sam said rather ironically. "He doesn't really do…like…relationships and all that. He's probably just scared. He'd kick my ass for saying that, but he's probably afraid."
"Or he's not interested." Loki said glumly. "And I've ruined everything."
…
I've ruined everything. Dean thought to himself miserably.
He was down in the garage by himself, absentmindedly staring at the Camaro that Loki had been dismantling. It was still in pieces because the God had been too miserable to put it back together since Dean had been ignoring him. Dean felt like shit for doing that to him, doing that to anyone was shitty but hurting Loki? That was something he'd never thought he would do.
He was confused, because he didn't know what he was running from, exactly. He'd wanted to kiss Loki for a long time, longer than he'd probably even realised. And then it had happened, everything he'd ever wanted, beneath his fingertips and he'd messed it all up.
Why did he do that?
Dean jumped feet and shouted out when he noticed a man materialise out of nothing in the garage and was about to call out for help when he realised who it was. It was Zeke, dressed in the vessel that Dean had first met him in.
"Hello, Dean." Zeke said, but he looked stressed.
"Zeke, what the hell are you doing here?" He asked, suddenly hyper-aware of Sam and Loki on the level above and hoping he hadn't shouted loud enough for them to hear.
"I need to speak to you, urgently."
"Well, now isn't exactly the best time!"
"Dean?" Sam's voice called from above. "You okay?"
Shit.
"Yeah, I'm fine, Sammy!" Dean called back before lowering his voice. "Look, Sammy can't see you." But Dean could already hear footsteps on the stairs, twin footsteps.
"Dean, I'm here to help you. I promise you need to hear about Abaddon. I won't tell Sam about what happened before. I promise."
"Abaddon?"
"Tell me what?"
The Winchester brothers said simultaneously.
Dean swivelled on his feet and was met with the sight of Sam in the doorway of the stairwell, Loki stood cautiously behind Sam, as if afraid to be in Dean's presence.
"Sam…"
"Tell me, what, Dean?" Sam repeated, lips pressed together in a hard line.
They stood in a stalemate for a moment before Zeke turned impatient behind them.
"This isn't important now." He said, catching their attention. "Abaddon has returned, she's killed countless demons and angels, your friend Crowley potentially along with them. She wants to take control of Hell."
"That can't be true." Sam said. "She…she was in pieces the last time we saw her."
"Well, she's back and she's coming for all of us. I just thought you should know." Zeke said solemnly, before vanishing into thin air and leaving Sam, Dean and Loki alone.
The news of Abaddon's return hung heavy in the air, to everyone except Loki who wasn't exactly sure what was going on. He refrained from asking, however, when Sam again turned his attention to his brother and asked, very quietly:
"What did you do, Dean?"
The look of misery and resignation in Dean's eyes hit Loki like a truck, slamming all the air from his body. He wanted to run to Dean, to fling himself into his arms and make everything okay again but this wasn't about him, this was about two brothers and Loki felt like he was intruding. He went to turn away, to give them some privacy but Dean had already started speaking before he could move.
"You were gonna die, Sam." Dean said, voice cracking.
"What are you talking about?" Sam asked incredulously.
"When you did those trials, your insides, your soul was hanging together by paperclips, Sammy! There was no coming back from that. I had to do something, or I was gonna lose you!"
"So, what? What did you do? Did you get that angel to heal me behind my back or something? Why not just ask Cas?"
Dean was silent for a long time, long enough that Loki began to wonder if he planned to answer at all.
"Dean!" Sam said, and his voice was so loud it boomed and echoed across the garage.
"I let him possess you. To fix you." Dean said.
The silence in the room was deafening.
"Angels can't possess someone without their permission."
"That's why he had to ask me, instead."
"What?" Sam thundered. "You let an angel live inside me? For how long?!"
"Since you were in hospital, til last year." Dean said quietly.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I knew how you'd be, Sammy…"
"What? You mean exactly like this!"
"Sammy, please." Dean tried desperately, searching out Loki's gaze for back-up but the God wasn't looking at him. "I did what I had to do, to save you, it's all I ever do."
"You lied to me, is what you did." Sam said resolutely. "I have never been more betrayed in my life, Dean. After everything that happened, after the cage, after Yellow Eyes, and you let something supernatural possess me? How could you?"
"Sammy…"
"No, fuck you, Dean. Fuck you."
Sam turned, and Loki made sure to side-step out of his way to avoid being thrown aside by the youngest Winchester, as he made his way up the stairwell again in a fit of rage. Dean followed quickly, his arm grazing against Loki as he passed him.
Loki stayed in the garage for a long time, listening to the bangs and inaudible shouts coming from above him before things went quiet.
He slowly made his way up the stairs and came to the living room, it was a tip where Sam and Dean had obviously been throwing things.
Dean was sat, cross-legged, on the sofa, his eyes wet yet staring, unseeingly, to the floor.
Loki approached him with caution but Dean didn't even lift his gaze to look at him.
"Sam's gone." Dean said heavily.
"Gone where?" Loki asked, aware that this was the first words they'd exchanged in days. His voice was uncharacteristically small.
"I don't know." Dean said, wiping his nose hurriedly. "I don't think he's coming back."
"Don't say that." Loki tried but Dean shook his head.
"You didn't see him, Loki. You should have seen him."
Dean buried his face in his hands and sobbed, Loki crossed the room and slowly sat down on the sofa next to him, letting his hand rest on Dean's thigh in a comforting way. Dean didn't even react, so used to physical contact with Loki at this point that it was second nature to him.
"It's going to be okay, Dean." He decided on rather lamely.
"Don't say that." Dean muttered.
"You must take my advice." Loki said. "I know how you're feeling."
Dean nodded minutely. "Yeah, sorry. You lost…"
"Don't worry about it." Loki said quickly. "I just…I'm here, you know I am." He fell silent.
"Thanks."
They sat in silence for around half an hour before Loki built up the courage to speak.
"So, whose Abaddon?"
"She's a knight of Hell." Dean said. "One of the first demons. She existed with my grandfather, one of the original men of letters, but she time-travelled here and found us. The last time we saw her, she didn't have freakin' hands. I didn't think she was a threat. Jesus. She wants to rule Hell, and the world. Your run of the mill psycho."
"It's okay. We'll figure it out, we always do."
The pair fell silent again.
"I understand." Loki said finally. "About what you said before, doing bad things for good reasons."
Dean finally lifted his head out from the crook of his arms and looked at Loki with so much hope in his puffy eyes that the trickster thought he was going to cry.
"Really?" Dean asked.
"Yes." Loki said immediately. "And…my opinion hasn't changed. You saved your brother's life, that's it. There's nothing else to it."
Dean sniffled for a moment before he let his arms fall to his sides and turned to sit facing Loki. "Shit, man, I'm fucking everything up."
"Dean…"
"No, I've ruined everything with Sam. With you…"
Loki shook his head immediately. "No, come on, this isn't about us. Not tonight."
"It's the truth, though." Dean admitted. "I shouldn't have been such a dick to you this week, I'm sorry."
Loki was quiet.
"I owe you an explanation."
"You don't have to do that." Loki assured him. "Not now."
"No, I want to." Dean insisted.
Loki was a little breathless at the idea of having Dean speak to him, properly, about what had been going on between them, but at the same time, he was also aware that he was probably focusing on that as a way to stop thinking about everything that had happened with Sam, and everything that was going to happen with Abaddon. So, Loki, being the good friend that he was, sat back and let it happen.
"The reason I rejected you…" Dean began.
Oh God.
"Was because I was scared."
Wait, what?
"I have these like, wicked abandonment issues, you know, to do with my mom and dad, I'm like, Freud's dream patient. What I'm trying to say is, I try and stop things before they start, so people don't have a chance to leave me. But, now you know what I did to Sam, my big secret, and you haven't left me. Yet."
Dean honestly looked so confused by the fact that Loki hadn't stormed out on him like Sam had, but Loki barely registered that because all he could think about was what Dean had just said. That he hadn't rejected Loki because he didn't want him, but rather, that he was scared to lose him.
A spark of hope ignited in Loki's heart and, although he felt bad about Sam leaving, he couldn't feel bad about the fact that he might just get Dean back. He might just get all of him.
"Come here." Loki said softly, holding out his arms.
Dean regarded him wearily for a moment before he shifted on the sofa. He lay his head on Loki's chest and Loki wrapped his arms around Dean and Dean sighed, allowing himself to be held. Loki was warm and comforting and felt like home, and, despite everything that had happened, Dean felt such an overwhelming sense of peace that he couldn't resist it.
"Ever since I met you." Loki spoke softly into his ear, his warm breath tickling Dean's neck, and not in an unpleasant way. "You've always considered yourself some kind of freak. As someone who deserved all the suffering he got. But I've never known anyone with such compassion, with such love for everything he's done. And people might see you as a freak, for what you do, but I never will. Because you aren't. And I promise, I'll never leave you."
"You say that." Dean said, but there was humour in his voice.
"I guess I'll just have to prove it to you. Everyday." Loki said, angling his head to look down at the human laying on his chest.
Dean's eyes searched his for a moment before he had surged up and pressed his mouth to his. Whether it was because he felt lonely, or guilty, or simply because he wanted to kiss him; Loki would never know. But he kissed him back and smiled into Dean's lips as he felt him hug him tighter.
The pair fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each other on the sofa, sharing soft words and soft kisses until they were too tired to continue. As they slept, both as content as they possibly could be considering the circumstances, they were both blissfully unaware of all that was coming their way.
Sam. Abaddon. Asgard. All of it meant nothing. All they had was each other, and when everything struck in a disastrous way, they would realise that that was all they would ever need.
A/N ! Yay, they're finally together! But don't be fooled into thinking that means it's clear sailing from here on out *evil laugh*
