Title: Attempting Happily Ever After
Author: castiel-thepizzaman
Pairing: eventual Dean/Castiel
Rating: M overall, this chapter, PG.
Warning: None

A/N: Here's another chapter. I'm sorry about the weird posting schedule. It'll get back to normal this week since I go back to my usual schedule of 2-11 instead of 7-3. I decided we're gonna go with the few extra chapters because I feel without them there would be some gaps in the romance that Castiel and Dean will start.

Not very happy with how this chapter came out. But I'm still so excited. =]

Enjoy reading! Feel free to comment on anything that's good, bad, or whatever in-between.

Chapter Eleven

Dean jerked awake, sitting straight up as he glanced around the room. Memories came flooding bak to him, flashes of the pain, the bright blue eyes, the low rumbling tone and the bright, white light that seemed to sear into his very essence. The drifting, oddness enveloping him, thin wisps of a dark matter covering a pure and white orb. Everything came back to him so fast that he groaned, dropping his head onto the palms of his hands. He remembered waking up and wanting someone, needing someone to be next to him. But it couldn't be anyone, it had to be Castiel.

The warmth that had enveloped him while he slept was suddenly absent and he turned to the empty spot on the bed. There was no Castiel, only the rumpled comforter that seemed to have been moved out of the way so the angel could exit the bed without disturbing Dean's slumber. He couldn't remember what it felt like to have the angel sleeping next to him, but Dean knew he wouldn't be able to sleep without Castiel.

Scooting back, Dean placed the pillow on the headboard and rested against it, pulling the comforter up around his body. He smoothed his hand down his thigh, feeling the soft sweatpants move against his skin. Moving his hand back up he slipped his fingers past the waistband of the pants and down past the hem of his boxers, feeling the area where the knife sliced through his skin, severing the femoral artery. It was smooth and soft, as if nothing had ever happened. He continued on to check the rest of his skin. There were no knife wounds on his chest, not even the white lines of scars marred his skin, past or present ones from the torture. He was as pristine as when he was born, or even when Castiel healed him after being beaten and bloodied by Lucifer, erasing the handprint the angel had left on him in Hell as well. Dean spent some time flexing and staring at his hand, watching it move fluidly through the motions. He couldn't really believe that a few hours previously it had been crushed and broken.

Dean glanced up from his hand, looking around the room just incase Castiel was lurking in a corner and the hunter wasn't able to see him. But after a quick survey, Dean realized that Sam was the only other presence in the room. Sleeping soundlessly on top of his bed, his whole body turned towards Dean as if he fell asleep waiting for his brother to wake up. There was a small desire to wake his brother so he wouldn't be alone at the moment, but Sam must have been worried and it would do him good to sleep through the whole night.

Light pooled onto the floor from the window, a streetlight shining through the crack in the curtain. Dean felt his gaze turn to it while his mind tried to sort through the memories. He could remember everything perfectly up until the bright light. Now he remembered the hazy scene that had gone on before him. The confusions of two Castiels in the room, one pinned against the wall, fear prominent in his features while the other held anger and possessiveness that seemed to dictate his actions.

A bright searing light and the knowledge of another's death in the room, knowing his would soon be following. Dean remembered the torturing. Every second of it. His mind still intact. The shapeshifter blinded by rage and revenge. Knowing that Castiel, his angel, was also furious at Dean's state, wanting revenge for the pain Dean had been put through.

Bright blue eyes, compassion and worry hiding deep in them, seemed to peer into his soul. A gentle touch making Dean feel complete, all he needed was his angel's touch and he knew he could go, leave the living. That face. Those eyes. That touch. He knew he could die. He may not have gotten to do everything he wanted. Tell Sam, Castiel, and Bobby what they needed to hear. He made a lot of mistakes, but in an attempt to quell the fear, he went willingly, allowing him to reconcile and accept the fate that he would have.

Coldness had surrounded him, and he felt like he was moving through a fog, pushing through a haze in order to get to the other side. The side Dean had assumed would be the side of the Dead. A place where Angel and Reapers could see him. The place where he would meet the reaper that would take him to the place he belonged. How he hoped it would be Tessa, at least this time he wouldn't hesitate. He would willingly go with her.

But then something changed. He was enveloped in heat, scorching and hot, burning down to his very core. But it wasn't painful, it was comforting, as if he had felt this presence before. And perhaps he had. Dean now knows that he had felt it in Hell when Castiel had come to his rescue, pulling him out of the deep pit of despair and wrong doings. The presence felt calming and comforting, it was powerful, and it seemed special to him. Dean could feel everything. He could feel Castiel's worry, his fear, his residing anger, but most of all, he felt Castiel's love for him.

A warm breeze had passed over him, blowing away the fog and haze, replacing it with a sense and purpose in the world. Then once again, the intense heat as he was placed back into his proper place in his body, lighting up as he reconnected with his senses. As Castiel's grace flowed into him, once again, retying the bonds that kept him among the living. A bright light surrounded him as he was pulled away from dying, thrust back with the living, power, energy, and strength flowing through him as his soul reignited his heart, working his brain, planting him on Earth and forcing him to be alive.

It was a refreshing and invigorating feeling. And as Castiel's hand left him, he had slowly slipped into sleep, letting his sore and tired body recuperate.

Dean's hand went to his stomach, lifting up the shirt and glancing at his stomach. His hand slid down, slowly tracing the lines of his abdominal muscles, shadowed in the light. It was perfect, soft and pure skin. But it was where Castiel had fixed him. Touched him with his hand and let his grace travel through, rebuilding him and breathing life into him once again.

He let his thoughts drift, his mind slowly becoming blank as he replayed the past night over and over in his head. The difference between the shapeshifter and Castiel, the torture, the story, his death. Slowly it became a blur and his mind emptied, becoming blank as he stared out the window of the motel room, seeing the occasional car drive by every few minutes. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, not after that. But he had to try. He had to be strong. Strong for Sam and for Castiel. For the hunting world. For everyone. He was supposed to be this strong and unmovable force. Someone that took everything that was thrown their way and then some. He knew that he was fine in reality, that he had no visible scars of the battle. But there are other scars than visible. But for the good of everyone, Dean knew he had to shove those aside, he needed to ignore them until they went away.

'For Sammy, for Bobby, for Cas... oh God, Cas...' Dean's breath hitched and he shook his head, wondering when he had let emotion get such a strong hold on him. Everything Castiel had done for him, the feelings he felt through the bond Castiel and him had shared when the angel was bringing him back. But for the good of every one he knew he had to ignore it. What he had realized about the angel when he was being tortured, about Castiel being himself and not his vessel. Everything was for someone else, Dean never took a moment to think about something for himself, what he wanted. Instead, he knew it was for the best if they all moved on from this tragic situation. The fast the better.

Dean pushed himself off the headboard and shifted down in bed, fixing his pillow so it was underneath his head. Rolling onto his side, his back to the place Castiel had been, he closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing in attempt to fall asleep.

After half an hour, Dean groaned, opening his eyes to stare at the slumbering form of his brother when a soft rustle of wings announced another presence in the room.

"Cas?" Dean asked, pushing himself up with his elbows and squinting at the new form in the room.

"Hello, Dean." The familiar voice rumbled back and Dean watched as Castiel pulled his trench coat off along with the suit coat and began to unbutton his shirt. Dean watched in quiet fascination as Castiel revealed the white t-shirt underneath. When that was done, Castiel took off his shoes and moved forward, pulling the comforter back in order to slide into the bed.

Dean reached over, placing his hand's on either side of Castiel's hips, halting his progress. "No." Dean murmured, moving his hands and fumbling with Castiel's belt, sliding the leather through the buckle before he pushed the button of the angel's pants through the small hole and zipped down the small zipper. With a quick movement Dean pushed the pants off Castiel's hips, revealing prominent hip bones and black boxers and they dropped to the floor, gathering at Castiel's feet.

The angel stepped out of the pants and then crawled into the bed, shifting around so that he could get his legs under the covers and pull them back up to the height Dean had them before. Once Castiel stopped moving, laying on his back looking at the ceiling, Dean dropped back down to the pillow, staring at Sam with his back to his friend.

They stayed like that for a few minutes before Dean let out a quick huff of air and rolled onto his stomach, turning his head to look at Castiel. The angel's face was stoic, his eyes watching the lights flickering on the ceiling from the car's that passed outside. Tentatively, Dean reached out his hand, gliding it along the sheets as he found Castiel's arm lying by the angel's side. The dark haired angel turned to look at Dean, the streetlamp reflecting in his eyes as he glanced down. The hunter's hand moved down, feeling the soft skin of Castiel's arm as it transferred to his wrist, the warmth of the fingers and the softness of his palms. He wove his fingers into Castiel's, interlacing their fingers in a loose hand hold.

'Just this once.' Dean thought, feeling guilty for putting himself first. After that, he put everything aside. Whatever these odd feelings for the angel were, he would make sure everything was platonic that way everything would work. Just this once, and then no more. He would put everyone else fist other than himself. He would do what was best.

It was comfortable and it caused Dean's eyes to flutter closed feeling very tired all of a sudden. A smile spread across his lips and he saw Castiel returning a small one of his own as Dean feel asleep, their hands locked together, holding on as if they were each other's only lifeline.


Waking up was difficult, Dean was tired after his ordeal with the shapeshifter and groaned quietly when the sun his his face, causing a bright red color to bloom behind his eyelids. What made it harder was the warm body next to him, or well, half under him as well. The hunter slowly opened his bright green eyes, the first thing coming into focus was his hand grabbing a bunch of white fabric. His other hand had long since gone numb, pinned between him and the body, but with just enough feeling to notice fingers intertwined with his. Dean focused on the bunched fabric in his hand, noticing it was a shirt. His eyes trailed up and saw Castiel's face. He looked serene, his face relaxed and his eyes closed, is lips parted slightly. Dean would have thought Castiel was sleeping but in an instant, the angel's eyes opened and Dean felt the bright blue gaze upon him.

Dean let a little smile form on his lips before he remembered what he had promised himself last night.

The smile fell and he untangled his legs from in between Castiel's relishing the feeling of their skin moving against one another. Whatever Dean thought he felt for Castiel, it had to stop now for doubt was creeping in to the friendship they had, causing him to rethink the feelings for the angel. It was better to stop it now that for something to go wrong. 'Nip it in the bud. If there is one. Just being safe...' Pushing himself up, Dean moved away from the angel, pulling his hand out of its night long embrace. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed Dean glanced around for his brother.

"He went to get breakfast." Castiel replied, noticing Dean turning to look at the open bathroom door.

The hunter grunted in reply, running a hand through his short blond hair. A small sigh escaped his lips before he began to talk. "We need to stop this, Cas."

Dean turned to look at Castiel who had sat up as well, the blankets pooling around his waist and Dean couldn't help but glance at the angel's arms, the first time they had been revealed to him fully. It was better than focusing on Castiel's face, the tilted head and the slight confusion swimming in the blue gaze. "Stop what, Dean?"

"Stop... this." The hunter muttered, motioning to them. He hoped that Castiel would understand without him having to get into detail.

After a short hesitation, Dean could see Castiel's body shift as he nodded. "Understood, Dean. I apologize."

There was silence between them and Dean stood, stretching his body out by clasping his hands together, getting rid of the feel of Castiel's fingers locked with his, and raised his arms, standing on his toes and groaning with pleasure. Once he twisted his back from side to side, Dean headed around the bed and went into the unoccupied bathroom.


By the time he came out he saw Castiel sitting in the chair by the desk, fully dressed, staring out the window. Dean hadn't a clue what he was looking at, but something told him the angel wasn't focusing on anything. Dean began to pack his duffel bag, his organized mess ruined by Sam pawing through it the previous night, trying to find Dean something to wear.

A few minutes later the door opened, revealing Sam with two coffees, a paper bag, and a newspaper tucked under his arm. He closed the door with his foot, the slam of the door echoing loudly in the quiet stillness of the room.

"Dean!" Sam smiled, happy to see his brother awake as he placed his purchases on the desk and strode over to hug Dean, his arms encircling his brother as the palm of his hands slapped down against Dean's back. A low chuckle came from the older man's mouth as he returned the hug, a small smile spreading across his lips as he realized that he was still here, alive, and Sam was okay. A flash of panic went through him as he wondered what Sam would do without him. If Dean was dead, leaving Sam alone, that would be the cruelest thing he had ever done to his younger brother. But Dean just pushed the thoughts aside, closing his eyes a he rested his chin on Sam's shoulder, breathing in the familiar small of his brother. Pulling back, Sam rested his hands on Dean's shoulders and gave the blond a glance over, a smile still on his face, his eyes showing immense joy that his brother was fine. "Man, it's good to see you."

Dean couldn't help it when his smile got bigger, turning into one of the rare eye crinkling smiles. "You too, you too." Dean patted Sam's side before his hands dropped and he turned to the coffee on the table, smelling the familiar, mouth watering aroma it gave off. He needed coffee in the morning to function and after everything, he knew he needed it badly. Picking up the cup, he drank it black, knowing that there were two sets of eyes on him. One watching without interest and the other analyzing Dean's every move.

After he assumed he had passed Sam's test, his younger brother joined him at the desk, picking up his own coffee and grabbing a fruit salad out of the bag along with an egg, bacon, and cheese sandwich which he handed over to Dean. The small motion made Dean bite his tongue, taking the food from Sam. It mean that Sam was hoping he would still be alive, planned for him to be, and even if he was still unconscious Sam would buy that food for him because it was routine. It was almost a hope that Dean would be alright.

Grunting in approval, Dean unwrapped the sandwich and bit in to it, ignoring the drip of yolk that rolled down the side of his chin as he moaned in appreciation. Sam sat down on the edge of his bed and Dean joined him, pushing the covers off to the side before he dropped onto the mattress. After a large sip of his coffee, he turned his green eyes onto Castiel who had returned to watching the cars passing by on the street. He felt slight regret pass through him before he focused on the task at hand.

Clearing his throat and resting the sandwich on his knee, Dean rolled the styrofoam cup in between his hands, feeling the warmth seeping into his palms. "So where are we going, Cas?" The angel glanced up, away from the window, his blue eyes flicking from Dean to Sam and then back to Dean. "You know, to help you?" He prompted.

"Savannah, Georgia." Castiel replied, his deep voice rumbling through the room, sounding loud due to the silence that had been prominent from the angel beforehand. His voice rumbled through the room, familiar and safe sounds and Dean felt gratitude towards his friend.

Sam frowned, glancing over at Dean who was watching Castiel intently. Turning back to Castiel, addressing him, he asked, "how do you know that's where we need to be."

Castiel was looking back at Dean but his gaze turned onto Sam when he spoke. "I searched for it this morning while you two were sleeping. I had not thought my presence would be missed, but apparently it was." Castiel's turned back to the older hunter before he glanced at a red Ford truck that passed by.

Silence enveloped the room as Sam continued to glance between the two other people in the room and Dean finished his breakfast sandwich, mulling over Castiel's words. He had missed the angel. When he left it was like Dean was unable to sleep without the angel next to him. Thinking about it, Dean had needed Castiel that morning. Needed him by his side, a connection in the dark and lonely world he lived in, taking comfort from his friend.

Dean finished his sandwich, crumpling up the paper it was wrapped in and throwing it into the trash. He swished what coffee was left in the cup around, mixing the heat evenly. "Alright, we ready to go?" Dean asked, glancing around the room at Sam and his packed bags.

"Dean, are you sure you're up for this?" Sam asked as he stabbed a piece of pineapple rather violently with his fork.

Glancing over at his brother, Dean furrowed his brow. He was fully healed and felt the bed he had in years. Standing, Dean moved over and grabbed his duffel bag, throwing the dregs of the coffee and the cup away in the trash. "Yeah, of course, Sammy. I'm fine." Dean accentuated the word fine in hope to get the point across to Sam.

With a sigh, Sam stood, throwing away his breakfast, leaving the soggy fruit in the cup. It would take some convincing, but Dean knew Sam would be on his side soon enough. As well, Dean never let anything hinder him and rarely obeyed his brother's wishes. Dean knew that Sam had learned he couldn't control his brother.

Castiel stood as well, smoothing his palms down the side of his trench coat as he watched the brother's prepare themselves for the trip. Once everything was complete the brother's paused, looking at Castiel who stepped towards them and raised his hands.

"Whoa, whoa." Dean growled, holding his hand up, causing Castiel to pause. "We're driving."

"Dean, that would take a while. My method is faster." Castiel retorted, an angry fire starting in his sapphire gaze. "By the time we get there by your slow form of transportation the item may have moved already."

"Wait, so the object can move around?" Sam asked before Dean interjected with his disagreement.

"No. We are taking my baby. I am not leaving her behind and if you want our help, this is the way it has to be." Dean growled, pushing his shoulders back, his stance showing anger and irritation, his body ready for any form of violence.

They both noticed how Castiel tensed, his hands balling into fists as he clenched his jaw. It seemed as if energy crackled around him, springing the air to life as his presence seemed to grow and loom above them. "You wouldn't mind flying so much if you just trusted me." With that Castiel turned and strode to the door, disappearing a few feet in front of it.

"Thats... that... not it... there's other reasons." Dean called out to empty air. He wanted the Impala in Savannah with them, he wanted her out on the open road after being cooped up in the city for so long. He wanted time to think about what happened, about Castiel. He just needed the steering wheel, the open road, music, and his thoughts. He needed time. To make sure that he was well enough to start another hunt and that he had really fully recovered, not just his body, but mentally as well.

But what about what Castiel had said. Of course Dean trusted him, he was his friend, he was family. Maybe there would always be that small part, the thought that he would be betrayed by Castiel. Betrayed like everyone else had betrayed him before. He was holding back, Dean knew that, but he had good reasons to. After all, Castiel was a supernatural being.

Dean turned to look at Sam and shrugged, heading towards the door and opening it, leaving the keys on the dresser top before he grabbed the Impala keys from his coat and spun them around in his hand, grabbing the right one. When he glanced at his car he saw a figure in the back and as they drew near, Dean realized that Castiel was sitting in the back seat, his hands clasped together and resting on his lap, his eyes staring straight forward through the windshield.

The Winchesters tossed their bags in the trunk, Dean locking it up before they moved to their respective sides, opening the doors to the car and sliding in. Dean smiled as he felt the leather seat underneath him and the soft, worn spots in the steering wheel where his hands rested. Closing the door next o him, he slid the key in, turning it on and hearing the familiar purr of the engine. Clicking on the music at a low volume, Dean smiled, pulling out of the motel parking lot, heading towards the highway where they would drive South towards Georgia.

"Let's do this." Dean murmured, a small smile on his lips as he glanced up at the mirror, seeing Castiel looking out the side window, and then over at his brother in the next seat.


Thank you PrincessOfDarkness3007, noiseandconfusion,mylia11, Lopithecus, susan, Kalia Devereaux, XClaire BearX, Larkafree, Celphius, My Dead Love, StoryWriterOfAll-101, Aliniah, Perry123, NolesGirlElle, RyuichiGravi, MissCimi, DragonAngelRaven, FireChildSlytherin5, silken touch, Whateva876, CashyHoray1.00, We need more lube, aishaduh for commenting!

For that you get one of Mary Winchester's special apple pies! I figured that would be appropriate for the rapidly approaching American Holiday of Thanksgiving!