A/N - This is the last chapter (and the longest).
Dean woke to find Sam's elbow poking him in the head.
"Hey," said Dean, still only half-awake, pushing Sam's arm away.
"Sorry," whispered Sam. "Was trying not to bother you, but you moved." He was sitting on the floor for some reason, crouched down in a kind of strange position.
"What time's it?" asked Dean blearily. "Cas ok?" He looked down and discovered his IV was out; he had just a little wad of cotton taped to his arm. Sitting up, he glanced over at Cas, who was just visible in the soft light of the desk lamp. Cas had either moved, or had been rearranged by Sarah; he was lying on his back now, totally cocooned in blankets that were tucked up around his chin.
"It's almost midnight," said Sarah's voice. Dean jumped; he hadn't even seen her in the room, but when he looked around the corner of the bed, he saw Sarah lying on her stomach on the floor, at the foot of Cas's bed, looking under the bed. She whispered, as if it were perfectly normal to be lying flat on the floor like that, "Buddy's doing very well. What did you just call him — Cas? He's still not awake but much better." She folded her hands under her chin, staring under the bed, saying "BP's much stronger, heart rate's up and his temp's almost normal. But I still strongly recommend that we take him to a hospital —"
"No," said Dean.
"But —" said Sarah, pausing from her inspection of the underside of the bed to look at Dean.
"It's complicated," said Sam.
Dean put in, "He's safer here. Just... in general."
Sarah looked at Dean a moment, and looked at Sam. "I sort of gathered that." She sighed, and added, "Which is why I hadn't already called 911. And why I got up at three in the morning when you called and drove twelve hours on my day off to get here. And brought this little girl all the way to you." She looked back under the bed. "Sam, she's just there in the corner, see? Dean, you can probably just lie back down and turn your head and you'll see her."
She was pointing under the bed.
Dean lay back down and looked. And there, under the bed, wedged in the furthest possible corner, just visible in the dim room, Dean saw two round shining eyes gleaming at him. He was still just half-asleep enough to wonder fuzzily if it was some sort of very tiny demon when Sam flicked on a flashlight. It was a little cat.
She was squished in the corner with her head on her paws, looking at them with wide, frightened green eyes.
"You did bring a cat!" said Dean. "I thought I heard a cat."
"So," said Sarah, "My brother's girlfriend's little sister Sherry absolutely insisted that I had to bring this cat here."
"Who?" asked Dean and Sam simultaneously.
"Sherry. Sherry who works at the Teton Pass Motel. Your motel." She grinned at their identical looks of bafflement, and said, "It's a small town, guys." She went on, "Sherry's the one who talked to you, Dean, after you found out that Buddy's cabin had burned down. So, both you guys apparently raced out of the motel like a bat out of hell the other night, didn't you? Right after you left the hospital? Stormed in like a SWAT team and grabbed your stuff and left without checking out? And Sherry was trying to run after you to tell you something, wasn't she?"
"How do you know that?" asked Sam. "That was, like, yesterday."
"Because right after you two disappeared, we all went out for margaritas at Gordito's, like we always do on Thursdays, and she said how you'd gone blitzing away even though she was trying to run after you, and I told her you were probably trying to find Buddy because you'd both just scooted right out of the ICU being all mysterious and dramatic. And she told me that what she was trying to tell you was that she'd found Buddy's cat."
Dean blinked. And looked at the cat.
"That's Cas's cat?" Now that he was more awake he realized it did look sort of like the same cat. Fluffy around the neck, with black-and-cream stripes, and a long fluffy tail that was curled protectively around her paws.
"Cas, Buddy, yes, whatever his name actually is," said Sarah.
"But it died! In the fire!" said Sam. "Didn't it?"
"Everybody thought it had died," said Sarah, "because Buddy, or Cas, had told Sherry that the cat was definitely inside the cabin. He was absolutely certain he'd closed the windows and doors when he left, so he was sure the cat had been trapped inside. And Joe — Joe is Sherry's high school best friend's boyfriend's uncle, and he's one of the volunteer firefighters — anyway Joe said the fire somehow started in a circle in the trees all around the cabin, and then went inward, which just by the way is extremely weird and everybody was talking about that. So anyway, everybody was sure the cat had died."
"Everybody?" asked Sam.
"Everybody in town. Well, everybody at Gordito's, which is almost the same thing. It's kind of a small town, did I mention that? Anyway, everybody was so sad Buddy lost his cat. Buddy, or Cas or whatever, has been doing odd jobs around town, you know — under some different names by the way — and everybody liked him. And everybody heard about the fire and everybody thought it was awful that the Mitchells, who own that cabin, had actually had him living in there with no furniture and no source of heat so that he'd had to be sleeping on the floor by the fireplace! The Mitchells are just awful, by the way. Everybody is pretty pissed at them. And Sherry had told everybody a few weeks ago about how upset poor Buddy was about the cat, and everybody felt just awful for him. And then the cat turned up last week! Joe found her, the cat I mean, near the wreckage a few days ago, and he brought her to Sherry. Sherry told everybody just last night."
Dean said, "And, let me guess, everybody was happy?"
"Everybody had a whole 'nother round of margaritas to celebrate," said Sarah. " So... you guys call me at three-thirty in the morning and, god help me, I actually called up Sherry and ran by her place and grabbed the cat, just in case there was a chance to get it back to Buddy. Sherry's really excited; she was so worried about how to get the cat back to Buddy. Are you following me?"
"I ... think so," said Dean, nodding slowly. Sam nodded too.
"Anyway," went on Sarah, still watching the little cat, "The point is, the cat must have got out of the cabin somehow. There must have been a window open or something."
"Oh..." said Sam suddenly. "Oh, I ... I think that was me."
They both turned to look at him.
Sam looked a little embarrassed. "I just remembered. I left a window open."
Dean stared at him. "What?"
"When Cas was hurt. Remember, when we'd set the orb off —" Sam belatedly glanced at Sarah, who had sat up to look at him, and said hastily to Dean, "When he broke his ribs. When he was lying on the road and we were waiting for the ambulance. Remember, I went back to his cabin to get a blanket and to, you know, check ... for ... you know? With the spinny thing?"
Sarah looked completely mystified, but Dean suddenly remembered what Sam was talking about. Sam had gone running back to Buddy's cabin to get a blanket ... and to check for hex bags with the spinning crucifix.
Sam said, "I was trying to do a really thorough check of the windows, because of how we missed the curtain rods earlier — you know? The curtain rods, Dean? At the motel? I was looking for ... those things... you know?"
"Don't mind me," said Sarah drily. "Just continue speaking in code and I'll just pretend I don't notice."
Sam actually began to blush. He darted a nervous look at Sarah and said to Dean, "There's this one window with shutters and I thought I should open the window real quick just to check the shutters. But then there was other stuff to check and I thought I should grab his jacket and ... I got distracted and ... I was in such a hurry, and, I just realized, I must've forgot to close the window."
They were both staring at him.
"And you didn't think to mention this?" said Dean.
Sam was beet red now. He said, "I'm sorry."
Sarah said, "So, Sam, when you accidentally save a friend's cat from a firey death, what you would normally say there is not "I'm sorry." What you would say is: 'Did I forget to mention I'm the hero of the day? You may all praise me now'."
"I can't believe you didn't mention this," said Dean.
Sam said, still blushing, "I didn't know the window was important! I assumed they'd found the cat's body or something!" He added, "Though actually, I'd also forgotten all about it," At Dean's withering look Sam said, a little defensively, "It's been kind of a busy couple weeks, Dean! I was, you know, busy with magma monsters and evil angels and seizures and all that." He blushed yet again, glancing at Sarah, whose eyes had widened at the "magma monsters and evil angels". Sam went on, "So I forgot I left a window open, I'm sorry!"
"You are one in a million, Sam," said Dean, shaking his head, but then he reached over and chucked Sam on the shoulder. He leaned down again and looked at the little cat. She'd remained wedged in the corner the whole time they were talking, but was starting to relax a bit, blinking uncertainly, one ear and then the other starting to flick forward occasionally. Dean said, "So... a cat, huh? We've never had a cat around."
"They're easy," said Sarah. "Litter box, food, water. They purr. They're furry."
The cat got brave enough to take a hesitant step forward. Sam held out a hand and whispered "Kitty kitty?" but the cat immediately cringed back again, squishing herself even further back into the corner.
"You're not helping, Sam," said Dean. "You're only about a thousand times bigger than her."
"Hey kitty, I'm the one who opened the window for you," said Sam. "I saved your life!" He actually sounded a little hurt.
The little cat was trying to hide behind a fold of blanket now, and Sarah said, leaning over again to look at her, "She just doesn't know you yet. She'll settle down in a few days. By the way, I don't usually advise having pets in with a critical-care patient, but since Sherry said Buddy-Cas-whatever was so sad about the cat, I think we should just leave her in here, as long as one of us is in here to be sure she doesn't lie right over his mouth or something. I'll set up her food and water in here, and I'll put the litter box in that little closet; you can find a better place for it later. She can just stay in this room for now, till she gets more comfortable."
"Sounds good," said Dean.
"Then later she'll take over the whole place and start ordering you all around, okay?" said Sarah, sitting up on her knees. "That's usually what happens." She glanced at them both. "Okay, you two. You're both going to have a bit of soup now, and hit the bathroom, and then get back to sleep. I'll watch Buddy till at least dawn. Or ... Cas. So, can I just ask, what is his actual name?"
Sam and Dean looked at each other.
"Castiel," said Dean. "We've always called him Cas for short."
Sarah said, slowly, "That's... a different kind of name. Where's he from?"
Sam and Dean looked at each other again.
"It's a long story," said Sam.
Sarah looked back and forth between them, and said, "I see it's on a need-to-know basis. Whatever. Anyway, I'll watch him till dawn and one of you can take over whenever you wake up. Also, you may notice I have made no comment about evil angels or magma monsters. Or orbs. I didn't hear a thing, honestly."
"Sarah," said Dean, "I don't suppose you'd be interested in a job here in Kansas? By any chance? Maybe in north Kansas?"
"We could sort of use an ICU nurse now and then," added Sam. "It's sort of suddenly seeming like a really excellent idea."
She gave a quiet laugh. "I appreciate the thought. But actually... I'll have to head back to Wyoming tomorrow. I meant to tell you. I only get three days off and today's already the second day."
"Dammit," said Sam.
She looked back and forth between them, and then looked over at Cas. "I won't deny that the three of you have been easily the most interesting patients of the year. Possibly of the decade." She thought a moment. "Possibly of ... ever. And I haven't even asked you about the earthquakes and the landslide yet. I get the feeling there's a bigger picture here?"
The "bigger picture" phrase made both Dean and Sam give a short laugh.
"You could say that, yeah," said Dean.
She looked at them a moment. "Well. You've got my cell number. If you need me again, after this, you know how to reach me."
They had to make do with that. Sam and Dean obediently had some more soup, and visited the bathroom as instructed, and then Sam headed back to his room. Dean curled up on the floor-mattress again, still feeling that he didn't want to leave Cas's room.
He lay on his side looking at Cas's profile, which he could just see from where he was lying on the floor. He was very reassured to see a slight rise and fall of the blankets, and he thought, Cas is breathing.
He watched the blankets for a while, watched them just rising and falling. It was a lovely sight.
Then Dean's eyes dropped under the bed and he saw the little cat was looking at him.
She eventually blinked and looked away. It seemed a friendly sort of blink, like she was starting to relax.
He was thinking I can't believe I'm so damn happy about that stupid cat when he dropped off to sleep.
Dean woke near dawn to find Sarah sitting at Cas's side taping some gauze around his ribs. The cat had migrated onto the foot of the bed; Cas was still asleep. Sarah whispered quietly, "I sutured the worst cuts last night when he was still pretty far down. I just re-did all his bandages, and I managed to get him into those sweatpants and the flannel shirt, too — I hope those were for him? Taped up his feet a little better too."
"Jeez, thanks, Sarah," said Dean.
"Kept me awake," she said briefly, and Dean took a closer look and noticed she looked very tired. He realized she'd been up over twenty-four hours herself. After some brief arguing, he managed to get her to go to sleep in one of the other rooms. Dean took the morning shift by Cas's bed.
When Castiel finally woke, Dean was sitting by his side, and the little cat was curled up right against his chest.
Cas's eyes fluttered open. He was lying on his back, the cat nestled between his left arm and his side. For a few moments he just blinked slowly and gazed at the ceiling. Then he frowned, his eyes focusing, and he began to look around the room. His eyes fell on Dean.
"Hey, Cas," said Dean. He'd been watching Cas slowly surfacing from sleep.
Cas stared at him a moment, looked all around the room again, and looked back at Dean. It seemed to take him a long moment to realize, or to believe, what he was looking at.
Cas said "Dean?" lifting his head slightly and hitching himself up on one elbow.
"So, um," said Dean, trying to act casual. "Welcome home, Cas! Or, uh, Buddy, heh." He gestured around the room. "Like the room? Um, this is your room. Um... I set the room up for you. This room. It's your room."
Cas just stared at him blankly. He looked around the room again. He looked back at Dean again.
"Dean?" he repeated, in the same tone of disbelief.
"We're in the bunker," Dean explained. "Sam and I got you back here."
Cas said blankly, "Sam?" It would have been funny if Cas hadn't been so obviously bewildered. Cas went on, "Sam too? Sam is here?"
Dean hollered "Sam! Get in here!"
Sam came running in (he'd been up for an hour or so, and was in the kitchen making coffee). He looked worried when he appeared in the doorway, but when he saw Cas awake a huge smile broke over his face. Sam said, "Cas! Jeez! How do you feel, you ok? Jeez, Cas it's, just, man, it's so good to see you awake! Damn, you really gave us a scare." Sam went right over to the bed and ruffled Cas's hair, and patted him on the shoulder. Cas just stared up at him, still half up on one elbow, still looking utterly confused.
Cas looked back and forth a few times between them. Dean grinned, saying, "Betcha didn't expect to wake up here, huh?" Cas looked all around the room yet again. He sat up further; and suddenly the little cat mewed in annoyance at being disturbed.
Cas flinched and froze absolutely still, lifting his arm to look down at the cat. He stared down at the cat for a long moment, his arm suspended in mid-air.
She mewed at him again, and stretched a paw up toward his arm; and he slowly, slowly lowered his hand to touch her on the head, very delicately, as if she might disappear.
"Meg," he said softly. "Oh... "
Dean and Sam looked at each other.
"Meg? Seriously?" said Dean. "You named your cat Meg?"
Cas wasn't paying any attention to him, and it struck Dean that something had just shifted in Cas's demeanour. His shoulders had dropped and all the tension had suddenly run out of him. He sat up all the way now, gazing down at the cat very solemnly. He stroked her head, just once, extremely slowly, almost reverently. Only once, and then he removed his hand.
Cas gave a long, slow, sigh. His gaze slowly shifted to the bed, the blankets; he looked slowly around the room yet again, and finally back at Sam and Dean.
His eyes met Dean's.
"This is my room?" he asked quietly. "This is the bunker?"
Dean nodded eagerly. "Had it ready for you for months, Cas. It's, um, it's the best mattress I could find. The only bedframe that doesn't wobble. Um... I put this... bird up?... for you? This... ah... picture? I got... the pillows..." He faltered, and stopped.
Sam put in, "Dean's had this room ready for you a long time, Cas."
Cas looked very solemn. He said slowly, "You both remember me?
Dean and Sam looked at each other. "Yeah," said Sam. "We remembered everything. Cas... we always wanted you here. We never wanted to forget you."
"We always wanted you here," agreed Dean.
Cas was gazing at Dean with a very strange expression on his face. He nodded, and looked down at the cat again and said, slowly, "I think I understand."
Something's wrong, thought Dean.
Dean said to Sam, "Hey, maybe you could make him some soup or something?" Sam shot Dean a sharp look that clearly meant Okay, but don't screw this up. Sam nodded, and disappeared out the door.
Dean cleared his throat, said "Cas..." and promptly stalled. He was trying to get straight in his head what he needed to tell Castiel, but it was suddenly all piling up overwhelmingly, all the things he needed to say, all the things he'd left unsaid for so many years, all the problems that needed sorting out. He couldn't think where to start.
Cas was gazing at him, still sitting up in his bed, looking down now and then at the cat with a strangely bleak look on his face.
"Cas. Look, I... " Dean took a breath. "Goddammit. Look, Cas, we never wanted to forget you. We had to, we were trying to save you. Cas, we, we, look, I want to make something clear; it was awful not having you, I mean, we were okay day-to-day and all, but there was just something ... wrong, something really wrong... We ... uh... missed you... Cas... you're..." Dean stalled completely again.
Cas was still just staring at him with that hollow look in his eyes.
"Look, Cas, the thing is, actually, you're my best friend, Cas," said Dean in a quick rush, feeling increasingly idiotic but determined to spit it out. "You're... you really are, Cas, you're my best friend. Oh, hell, this sounds so eighth-grade-girly, doesn't it? What I mean is, you're really important... and... I... I'm just... I'm just such an idiot that I never actually told you that. I thought you knew. I really thought you knew... that... you... are..."
Dean trailed awkwardly into silence, for Cas wasn't looking at him anymore. While Dean had been talking, Castiel's eyes had slid away from Dean and back to his little cat. And now he was just staring at the blanket that was over his legs.
All morning Dean had been sitting by Cas's bed, and all morning he'd been preparing himself for all sorts of potential reactions when Cas awoke. He'd thought maybe there'd be some anger, or resentment (Cas certainly had every right). Or perhaps confusion; Dean had privately bet on an 85% probability of at least one tilted-head puzzled-squint look. And Dean had been fully braced for the possibility that, if Dean ever did manage to say out loud in actual words how important Cas was, then maybe Cas would get all dopey and awkward and try to hug him clumsily or something. Dean had thought this all through, he was ready for it, he was braced for it, and he had decided it would actually be tolerable. Even if it went into hug territory.
But he had not been at all prepared for what was actually happening, which was: Cas seemed to have gone from surprise to sorrow, of all things, and then to something like resignation, which made no sense at all, and he now seemed to have lost interest entirely in what Dean was even saying.
Cas was still staring at his blanketed legs, his hands clasped together in his lap. Dean said, "Cas... Cas? Are you listening? Do you hear me?" Then Cas lay back down, curled up on his side again, and closed his eyes. He put his arm over his face, as if trying to block the world out.
"Cas?" said Dean, genuinely worried now. "Are you okay? Oh jeez... you still probably feel like crap, huh? Are you dizzy? Do you feel sick or something? You just, um, you just take it easy, okay?"
Cas was silent for a long minute. Dean started patting him awkwardly on the shoulder, getting more and more worried, saying "Cas? Can you hear me?" But Cas didn't even seem to notice. Dean was on the verge of running for Sarah when finally Cas lowered his arm from his face. Dean was shocked at the drawn, grim look on his face.
Cas muttered very softly to himself, "I have to accept it..." He slowly sat up again, pushing himself up with his hands, and looked at Dean for a long moment. Dean looked back at him without the least idea what to do.
Cas murmured softly to Dean, "Wish I could have told you." He swung his bandaged feet to the floor, tottered to his feet and began to limp toward the door.
"Cas. You should lie back down," said Dean, certain now that something was wrong. He tried to grab Cas's arm, but Cas said "Leave me alone," pulled free with surprising strength and hobbled determinedly out the door into the hallway. Dean decided to let him walk around a little bit, hoping he would snap out of the whatever-it-was if he just woke up a little more.
Cas tottered slowly down the hallway to the main room with the big map-table, Dean hovering closely by his side. Cas nodded when he got to the to the map-table. He glanced toward the library and said, mystifyingly, "It's all here. It's all here. Even the library. That makes sense."
Sam appeared in the kitchen door holding two cups of coffee, but Cas hobbled straight past Sam without even looking at him.
Dean scurried over to Sam, who was staring after Cas in confusion.
Sam said, "What's going on, Dean, he okay? He seems a little weird."
"Something's wrong," said Dean.
"What?"
"Don't know. He's acting strange. He won't look at me. He didn't even want to pet his cat. He didn't seem at all interested in anything I was trying to tell him."
"Maybe he's still not really awake?"
"I don't know. Something's off, Sam. Something's way off."
Cas wandered into the library and sat down on the little sofa in front of the fire that Sam had lit in the fireplace earlier that morning. Dean sat down next to him, and said carefully, "Cas. Do you understand where you are?"
Cas turned to look at him, and Dean was shocked to see the track of a tear that had just run down Cas's cheek. But Cas seemed calm, and he said steadily, "Yes... Yes. I believe I know where I am."
Castiel turned back to the fire and said calmly, "I am in the headquarters of the Men of Letters. With Sam and Dean Winchester. Who are both alive. Who actually remember me. And have apparently forgiven me all my awful mistakes. And have asked me to stay. You... say... you've... " — a twisted expression came over his face, something warped, almost bitter — " You call me your 'best friend' ...You say you've missed me... You've set up a room for me." He paused, and then went on, "My cat is here too... It's warm... Sam is making food for me... There's no fighting... I'm safe..." He trailed off, and finally muttered, nodding, "It makes sense."
Dean was utterly confused now.
"Perhaps I could learn to pretend," Castiel said slowly, staring into the fire.
"Cas? What are you talking about? Pretend what?"
"Pretend the puppet show is real," Cas murmured.
"Puppet show?" said Dean.
He'd heard that phrase somewhere...
It clicked. The Tetons. Stumbling through the dark, tangled woods at night.
Sam saying, In Heaven we could all be with the people we love, forever.
And Cas replying: Heaven is a puppet show, Sam. The souls there are trapped... they are not really with the people they love... just simulacra of them...
...Hallucinations of them...
...Puppets.
"Whoa whoa whoa," said Dean. "I get it, I get it, I get it. Cas. Listen to me." He grabbed both Cas's shoulders in his hands, turning him slightly to make him face Dean. "Cas. You think you're in Heaven, don't you. You think you died? You think we're just puppets, or something, in your little private hallucination-world, in Heaven? Because... Oh, jeez, it's because you're so sure your cat died, and you were so sure me and Sam had died, oh, jeez, that's it, isn't it, and you can't figure out how the cat could have gotten here. And you were so sure you were going to die, too."
"Yes," said Cas. Then he added, devastatingly, "Also, the real Dean would never be so kind to me."
That hit Dean so hard he lost his breath for a moment, just staring at Cas.
"Cas," Dean said haltingly. "No, this is, this is real, this is really me... I..."
Dean looked at Cas. Looked at Cas, who was looking right back at him, his eyes shining, the track of that awful tear on his cheek.
Cas never cried. Dean had never seen him cry. Ever.
It became very difficult for Dean to think what to do next. Primarily because what Cas had just said seemed to be sort of stabbing Dean in the heart, making it quite difficult to concentrate. The sentence seemed to be echoing in his ears (The real Dean would never be so kind to me. The real Dean would never be so kind to me. The real Dean would never be so kind to me...). It was sitting there heavy in his chest, exactly like a knife, like a demon-blade that Dean couldn't pull back out.
Dean had to look away and take several deep breaths just to clear his head enough to think. He let go of Cas's shoulders and turned to face the fire himself, and just tried to breathe for a moment. He sat there next to Cas, and looked into the fire with him, and thought.
In his peripheral vision he saw that Sam was hovering in the doorway, obviously uncertain what to do. Dean couldn't even look at him.
Then Dean thought of something.
He stood and said to Cas, "Come with me." He pulled Cas gently to his feet by one arm and began to coax him down the hallway, moving very slowly, at a pace that Cas could manage with his bandaged feet. Cas was only able to shuffle along slowly. Dean nodded to Sam to come up and take Cas's other arm, and they got him side-by-side between them.
"Where are we going?" said Cas idly, not sounding all that interested.
"You'll see," said Dean. Then he asked, mostly out of curiosity, "So, Cas, why would your feet be hurting you in Heaven?" He saw Sam's eyes widen, and heard Sam give a soft gasp of understanding.
Cas said, "Sometimes the wounds that caused the death linger at first. Sort of ... an imprint on the psyche, I believe. I've seen it before. The wounds usually fade eventually, though."
Sam shot Dean a very worried look over Cas's head and Dean nodded forward to the stairs, trying to convey, Just go with me on this.
They led him slowly down the stairs, half carrying him in places. Cas gave Dean a puzzled look as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "This is ... odd," he remarked. "I don't know why we're down here. There will be nobody here."
"So your Heaven would have nobody down here, huh?" said Dean, unlocking a door. "Tell me, Cas, would this guy be in your Heaven?" He swung open the door, and there was Crowley.
Crowley turned out to be watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer again, riveted. He turned reluctantly to the door and raised both eyebrows high when he saw Castiel. He hit Pause on his remote.
"Well, well, well. The prodigal angel has returned," Crowley said. "Hello, Castiel! My least favorite angel! So awful — I mean, delightful — to see you've survived. I told your favorite puppies here how to break their walls down. I must say, it was quite a surprise when I realized it was you they'd forgotten." He chuckled, shaking his head, and said, "You should have seen what a state they were in originally, last spring, when they realized you were in danger. I was certain it was some girlfriends or something that they were all upset about. I'd no idea you three have had such an interesting lovefest going on!" He laughed again, waggling a finger back and forth in a teasing "naughty, naughty!" gesture. He went on, "Still, though, I try not to judge, live and let live, don't you think? So I see you've all survived? So... " Crowley seemed to at last take in Cas's appearance, his eyes roving from Cas's scarred face down to what he was wearing — Dean's oversized flannel shirt hanging open, Cas's torso completely wrapped in bandages, the sweatpants — all the way down to his bandaged feet. Crowley frowned and said, "Oh, hell, are you ... moving in? You're not — staying here, are you? Oh, damnation, you're not going to be living here, are you?"
Castiel took a few slow steps forward, away from Dean and Sam, his face blank with shock.
"Crowley?" Cas said in disbelief. He shot a sharp glance back at Dean, and looked again at Crowley. "How is it you are here? You can't be here...You can't."
"Yeah, well, I'm not exactly looking forward to having you as a housemate either, truth be told," said Crowley. "We just have such different schedules, you know? And I get the feeling you're the kind who's going to leave prissy little notes around about not leaving dishes in the sink. But! At least I won't have to do so many translation jobs; I've got to say, that's been getting annoying. And maybe we can split the cable tv bill, huh? So — hey — what are you doing —wha— hey—"
For Castiel had taken several limping steps closer and he had just poked Crowley in the ribs. He frowned and tilted his head, an all-time classic Puzzled-Castiel expression coming over his face; he poked Crowley a few more times in the side with his forefinger (Dean was irresistably reminded of the Stay-Puft marshmallow man from "Ghostbusters", and desperately tried to stifle a laugh). Cas pinched Crowley sharply on the cheek and Crowley yelped, saying "Hey — HEY! Dean, stop him! You gotta keep him off me!"
Castiel leaned closer and poked him again, in the forehead this time, and said, peering at Crowley in obvious astonishment, "You're real. You're really here."
"Last I checked, yes. Hey ... stop, STOP! Dean! We had a deal! No torture by ex-angels! It's in my contract, it was Clause Forty-Four! HEY —"
For now Castiel had leaned forward and grabbed Crowley's face in both hands, inspecting him closely with a searching look. And then Cas kissed Crowley on the forehead.
Dean had never before seen Crowley rendered completely speechless.
Cas kissed Crowley again, on the cheek.
Dean had also never Crowley turn quite such an interesting shade of pink before. He heard Sam stifle a snort of laughter next to him.
Crowley pointed hopefully to his lips, but Castiel dropped his hands, stepped back and said, "We may now returning to hating each other." He turned on his heel, grabbed Dean's and Sam's arms, and limped out of the room, dragging both brothers along with him.
Once out in the hallway, Cas dropped hold of Dean and Sam and backed away a few steps, staring back and forth between them while Dean shut and locked Crowley's door.
"This is ... truly ... real?" Cas asked, very hesitantly.
Dean could not even speak, and it was Sam who had to say, gently, "Yes, Cas. It's really us. It's really the bunker. We both really survived. So did you."
Cas was starting to look very confused. "But..." he said. He turned to limp back toward the stairs, looking much more wobbly now, and Sam and Dean rushed over to grab his arms and more-or-less haul him up the stairs. He seemed too tired to get much further, so they stuck him back on the library sofa by the fireplace. Dean sat next to him again, and Sam disappeared and came back a moment later with Meg-the-cat squirming in his hands. Sam deposited the cat in Castiel's lap and Cas looked down at her in something like awe. He curled one hand around her and stroked her head with the other hand, his attention truly riveted on her now, stroking her over and over.
Meg-the-cat slowly relaxed; and then she began to purr.
Dean had to clear his throat, just from seeing the expression on Cas's face. Sam actually sniffled.
"But I don't understand," Cas said at last. He glanced up at Dean, saying, "My cat... she could not have survived... how could she...? And... how could you... Both of you, you could not have... survived? Neither of you answered... and... Ziphius... I..."
He gathered Meg up in a little bundle and clutched her to his chest, almost burying his face in her fur for a moment, peering up at Dean with wide blue eyes over the fur.
He looked absolutely bewildered.
Dean said, "Cas, listen to me. First. The cat. Sam left your cabin window open and the cat must have got out."
Sam nodded. "You probably don't remember, but when you were really sick, I went to get you a blanket? From your cabin? And I was checking the windows with that spinny thing you gave us. And I, uh, I opened that window with the shutters and I forgot to shut it. Uh..." Cas was staring at Sam now, still with his face half-buried in the cat's fur, his eyes even wider, and Sam said, "I'm, uh... sorry...I... uh...I'm... sorry..."
"What Sam's trying to say there, totally incompetently, is that he saved your cat's life," interrupted Dean. "Cas, anyway, the cat really did survive and it turned up a few weeks later and Sarah, the nurse, brought it here. Sarah's here, by the way. She's been taking care of you. She drove out here, and she brought the cat. Do you understand?"
"Oh. Okay. Okay. That seems... possible... I suppose. Barely. Okay," whispered Cas, raising his head slightly. "And ... you both... survived? The... dreams? The key... the spell?"
Dean nodded. "We went back to the Jackson hospital when we did that. The hospital took care of us. We were out for a couple days, I guess, but basically, we broke the spell when we were in the hospital, and then they took care of us."
"Oh," said Cas, nodding slowly. "That was ... clever. That was clever. Yes. So — I see. You were indeed in seizures, but... you were being taken care of?"
"We were back in the ICU with Sarah, all those times you called. And that's when we started talking with Sarah and that's why she got interested enough to bother coming out here. You were pretty damn cold when we found you, but Sarah told us what to do and we managed to warm you up." Dean gave a little laugh. "We had this long drive... we were both hugging onto you trying to warm you up. Taking turns. You probably don't remember."
A faint frown crossed Cas's face, and he glanced at Sam. Cas said, "Wait... I think... Sam was talking? To me?"
Sam's eyes widened, and he nodded.
Cas looked at him a long moment, blinking. Then he looked back at Dean and said, faintly, "... Ziphius...?"
Dean and Sam exchanged a look. "Ziphius is still out there," Dean admitted. "But we blew him away. Her, whatever. Blew her away with a sigil. And, uh, Mr. Magma helped us find you, can you believe it? We gave him so many M&M's... I guess he felt grateful."
Cas closed his eyes. Meg-the-cat was starting to squirm around in his hands — she'd actually been rather patient, thought Dean, for Cas had had her completely upsidedown for a few minutes now, suspended in midair, but apparently she'd reached her limit. Cas set her down back on the sofa next to him, very gently, and watched while she settled herself in a warm nook of blanket.
Cas's eyes wandered back to Dean. "So then... you have remembered everything. You have remembered everything?"
Dean nodded.
"If you have remembered everything..." said Cas, his eyes dropping to the floor, "I should probably go, then? I should go. Should I go?"
"What?" said Dean and Sam simultaneously.
Cas said steadily, his head still down, "If you have remembered everything, then you have also remembered the reason that you did the memory-wipe. Presumably you have remembered why you decided you would rather not ... have me around. Is it not still true? The reason? Whatever it was?" His eyes flickered briefly from the floor up to Dean, and to Sam, and right back to the floor.
Dean had every intention of giving Cas a detailed, rational explanation about the Minoan curse, but he was thinking nervously, Gotta immediately tell him the most important part, and he heard himself blurting out, "Cas, Cas, I have to tell you something. It was a minotaur and, Cas, my minotaur went right after you."
Cas blinked at him, but Dean had gone completely tongue-tied now.
Castiel finally said, "I ... am... extremely... confused."
"My god, Dean, you really suck at this." said Sam, pulling up a chair so that he could sit right in front of Cas. He muttered under his breath to Dean, "Words, Dean. You have to say it in words. All of it." Then he turned to Castiel and said, "Cas. Back in March we were checking out a cursed-object that had killed some people in Miami. It turned out to be this old Minoan mask that called a minotaur to us, basically. What it did was, it made the minotaur go rummaging through our memories, and then the minotaur would go and attack people that we care about. So... we accidentally... "
Dean put in, "I was the dumbass, it was my fault, I accidentally set it off."
Sam went on, "And the minotaur immediately went after the people we care about the most. Which is you. And it jumped you right away. That's what tore out your grace, Cas. You were attacked by our minotaur. It took us all day to figure out what was going on and then we realized it was going to go after you again that night and actually kill you. We only figured out what was happening when we had two hours left, and we couldn't reach you, and the only thing we could think to do was to erase our memories. So that the minotaur wouldn't find you in our memories. We were trying to save you."
Cas was staring at him blankly.
"Wait, wait, I'll show you," said Sam. "You can probably read Linear A, right?"
Cas nodded, and Sam scampered over to his notebooks and rummaged through them. He said to Dean shamefacedly, "You know... I've seen this damn thing so many times over the past six months and it gave me a headache every single time and I just kept sticking it at the bottom of my notes."
He held up a piece of paper. It was the photograph of the Minoan mask. Sam walked back over and handed it to Cas, saying, "This is what started it all. This mask."
Cas took the page in one hand and frowned at it for a few minutes. His eyes flickered rapidly over the Linear A parts; and after a minute he began using both hands to turn the page around and around, obviously reading the spiral Enochian inscription.
"Best-loved prey?" he murmured. He looked searchingly at Dean, and he asked, "So... there must have been other people that got attacked first? Were they okay?"
"Like I said," said Dean. "The minotaur went after you immediately. First. From ... both of us, basically."
Cas paused a very long moment and then said hesitantly, "Is this... sarcasm? ... It is, isn't it? Dean... this is one of the jokes where you say the opposite of what you mean?"
Sam said, "I'll just go and heat up that goddamned soup for a while, okay?" He scowled at Dean as he left.
"Cas..." Dean began. And stalled, again, immediately. Cas was gazing at him. He couldn't even meet Cas's eyes, and had to look at the floor.
"It's not a joke, Cas," Dean finally said, staring helplessly at the floor.
After a rather painful pause, Dean finally managed to say, "Do you remember the phase of the moon when you got attacked?"
"Yes... it was..." Cas glanced back at the photo. "It was... oh. It was the new moon... It was the first day? But..."
Dean nodded, looking up at Cas. Cas's eyes flickered back to him, and Dean immediately had to look down at the floor again.
Dean couldn't say anything else for a while, and finally Cas said, "I believe Sam may be correct. You do suck at this, don't you?"
Dean nodded desperately. "Cas... I'm ... sorry. I just... I joke a lot, I know I do, I just forget that you don't always understand ... but this is not one of those jokes. I truly didn't want to kick you out, I truly didn't ... and... I should have helped you more, when you were on your own... and... my god, I should have helped you, but I just... I didn't really understand that it was hard for you. You've just always been so tough, you know? You always seem so goddam tough... Cas... I let you down. I let you down. I let you down. I let you down." Dean realized he had gotten stuck in a loop, and had to kick himself mentally to get out of it. "I really let you down so bad. I'm so goddam sorry." His voice was actually cracking. Dean took a breath and forced himself to continue, blurting out, "The minotaur really did go straight after you. And, the memory spell, I was ... I was trying to save your life. Hell, Cas... When those memories got torn out... my memories of you... Cas, it was... it was so awful to lose you, it was painful, I can't even describe it. I know you feel like you made mistakes in the past, I mean, I know you did make mistakes, but, so did I, I've made some real doozies, and... none of that matters now ... and... and... you are my friend, you truly are ... you're like our brother ... for real, I'm not just saying that ... and ..." My god, I am really truly rambling, thought Dean, feeling almost like he was having an out-of-body experience, watching himself babble from outside. He babbled on: "... you are always welcome here. We always want you here. Sam too. We do so enjoy your company. It's good to have you around. I always want you here. And also, what I said before. What I said before." Damn, do I have to say it again? "What I said before, I meant it, you're, you're, y-you're, m-my... best... friend... important... and ... I, uh, uh, I, uh, um..." Goddammit, say it in words, say it in words, say it in goddam words, all of it, or he'll never understand. "... love you."
Dean ground to a halt, nearly choking.
There was a long pause.
Castiel said, "Excuse me... um... Excuse me a moment," He got to his feet and began to make his way shakily back toward the stairs.
"Cas?" said Dean desperately. "Where are you going?"
"I'll be right back," said Cas. "Just one minute."
He disappeared down the stairs, and Dean realized Castiel was going to check once more that Crowley was actually there.
There was something so pathetic, and sad, and yet somehow funny about all this that Dean actually started to laugh. Sam poked his head hesitantly back in from the kitchen. "Everything okay?" he whispered.
"I'm being too nice to him and it's making him question reality," said Dean, wiping a hand over his face. "I'm starting to think I need to kick him out again just so he'll believe this is all real."
Sam took a threatening step closer. "Dean, I swear, if you dare—"
"Joking. Go away. Couple more minutes. I'll send him in to you soon to get a big goofy Sam hug, any second now, I promise." said Dean. Sam scowled at him and disappeared.
Cas came tottering up the stairs again a few minutes later. He looked relieved.
"Was he there?" asked Dean.
Cas nodded. "He's there. He was very insulting. It was quite reassuring." He paused at the top of the stairs. "Dean," he began, but he didn't get any farther, because Dean had been thinking There is no way I am going to let Sam get the first goddam hug, and somehow Dean found that his legs had walked him right on over to Cas, and his arms had come up, entirely on their own, and he had wrapped Castiel in a huge, tight bear hug.
Normally Dean had a very precise Hug Timer that automatically began ticking whenever he was forced into a hug with another guy. The Hug Timer always began to tick instantly, and it had strict demands: after one-and-a-half seconds you had to segue to rough claps on the shoulder; and at three seconds maximum you had to let go. (Two seconds or less was preferable; three seconds was allowed in life-or-death situations.)
Those were the rules.
But, maybe it was because of that long, miserable drive on Route 83 when Dean had been hugging Cas for a solid hour, when Cas had been so terrifyingly cold and still; or maybe it because of the time he'd been holding Cas when he'd been dying by the side of the road, the blood pouring out of him. Or maybe it was that awful, terrible sentence Cas had said a few minutes ago, which was still jolting painfully in Dean's heart, still stabbing at him. Whatever it was, for whatever reason, the hug-timer seemed to be broken, because Dean just grabbed Cas, and then just held on. Just goddam held on. Feeling him breathe, feeling his warmth; feeling how alive he was. Feeling his uncertainty, and his disbelief. Not letting go.
"Sam instructed me once, this is what to do?" Cas eventually said into Dean's shoulder. His hands hesitantly settled on Dean's back. Dean just nodded.
After a few more moments, Cas said, sounding a little worried now, "Dean, aren't you breaking one of the rules?"
"It's a stupid rule, Cas," said Dean. "It's a really friggin' stupid rule." He felt Castiel relax, and finally felt him actually hug back. He felt Cas give a long, shaky, sigh, and still Dean did not let go.
There were still so many things to worry about. Cas still had lost his grace; Ziphius was still on the loose; that thirty years that Cas had donated to Sam was still a terrible looming problem; there were still crazy evil angels running all over the planet; Sarah was going to leave tomorrow; Kevin was still gone; on and on. There was still so much that was wrong, and so much that was ... terrifying, really. But Dean had Sam, and he had Cas too, now, finally, and he thought I'll be damned if I am going to let him get away again.
Dean finally managed to make himself let Cas go. "Cas," said Dean, stepping back and looking at him, "I gotta ask. All the things you've seen in your life. All the places you've been, all the Heavens you've been to... and you seriously couldn't come up with any better Heaven than just hanging out here with Sam and me?"
Cas just looked at him.
"This is where I want to be," Cas said at last.
"Then this is where you'll stay," said Dean firmly.
And then something happened that Dean had only seen very rarely in his life. Something he'd feared he would never see again. Something he had lost, for so long, and had had to fight so hard to get back. It seemed even more marvelous than the sight of those amazing wings; it seemed like a true miracle, and Dean actually felt blessed to see it:
Castiel smiled.
THE END
A/N -
I know there are some stray pieces still left, and endless more scenes that could be written... but this is where I planned to end it, with Dean finally saying what he has needed to say (and has been utterly unable to say) for so long. Because, even with no slash and no romance, even keeping it totally canon, those 2 boys and their angel love each other. And in case you hadn't noticed, that has been the entire point of this story.
So I will stop it here. (plus I'm flying to Brazil in a few days and I absolutely have to wrap this up before Carnaval!)
One last file coming with a bunch of author's notes (it's not a chapter) about the elements of this story and how they came together, for anyone who cares about where some of the writing details came from. (edit: aaaand now there is an epilogue chapter, too. It's after the author's notes.)