AN: Welp, this is it! The end. It's an epilogue as a quick tribute to the friendship between Cas and Sam.
Kathy: aw, I appreciate it! I liked chapter 21. And I'm grateful for all of your comments and reviews! I'm always glad to see your name pop up!
Blondie: I don't like Chuck either! And I didn't like that episode, so I did my own spin on it. Thank you for all of your comments and reviews on this and other stories! I'm always happy to read what you write.
This starts in season 3, then tags to season 5, episode 13, The Song Remains the Same and season 9, episode 11, First Born.
Thank you to everyone who read, whether or not your commented!
Epilogue: Castiel
Castiel blinked in confusion. The Abomination was offering him coffee. "I, uh, I don't know if you like coffee or if you ever drink it, but you know, I didn't want to get some and not offer you any, but anyhow, uh, here…"
"Just take the coffee," suggested Dean, tired of Sam's awkward babbling as Cas just stood there looking at the proffered coffee. Dean grabbed his own cup from the drink carrier Sam had set on the motel room table. "We don't splurge on actual Starbucks very often."
Castiel took the cup. He knew what coffee was and was perfectly capable of drinking it. He even enjoyed drinking it. His confusion came from the offer. What did Sam Winchester want? "I have no money," was all he could think to say.
"Oh, well, it's a gift." Sam shrugged and turned away as if he didn't care if the angel took it or not. But his face said otherwise. Cas took a drink just for something to do and considered what other expressions he'd seen on Sam's face. Sometimes it was completely blank, a trick he'd no doubt learned from his older brother. But usually, it showed his feelings for all the world to see. Cas remembered the first time he'd met the younger Winchester and felt oddly uncomfortable. There had been eager, open excitement on Sam's face to meet angels, not a hint of mistrust or disbelief. But how quickly that had morphed into pain and self-loathing when Cas had called him the Boy with Demon Blood. He hadn't argued with the appellation, had never argued that it wasn't his fault, actually. And his complete disappointment when he'd learned that the angels were willing to kill everyone in a town to take out the witch who wanted to bring Samhain back? Cas tried not to dwell on that either.
And now, Sam wasn't seeking to ingratiate himself. Castiel could sense no ulterior motives. Confused, he drank the coffee.
Some time later, Castiel found himself alone with Bobby Singer. Bobby was easy for him to understand. He wanted to do the right thing for the world and kill as many monsters as possible. While he cared about people as a whole, he didn't like very He cared about his small group deeply, though he hid his love under a gruff exterior. And he did not pull his punches, literally or figuratively. So, Cas figured he would be a good one to question.
"Bobby, how long have you known Sam and Dean?"
The hunter looked up from his book. If he were surprised by the question, it didn't show on his face. "Well, Sam was mebbe a year and a half. Dean wasn't very far from 5, but he hadn't started kindergarten yet. Why?"
Cas didn't quite know what he wanted to ask. "Has Sam always been…so…" he didn't want to say friendly, but he couldn't think of a better word.
"Been so what?" Bobby's tone had gone cold and Cas wondered if he was aware of just how protective he was of 'his boys.'
"I'm not sure what word I want. Kind maybe? Or just open? Forgiving? He seems to be genuinely…well, friendly, despite the many things that have happened to him."
Bobby's face relaxed. 'Yeah. Yeah. It's like the kid was born with some inner niceness or somethin' and the world hasn't managed to wash it away yet." He sat back in his chair. "There was this cranky old hunter. He lived alone because he pretty much pushed everyone away after a hunt went sour on him. Even John Winchester was wary of the guy. But when tiny Sam met him, he climbed on his lap. And he kept doing it. He didn't talk or ask for anything. He just climbed in his lap until he eventually he thawed that cold heart. He's insidious like that." Bobby gave a crooked grin of understanding. "Wormed his way into your heart too, has he?"
Cas pondered that for a moment, also taking a second to reflect that while Bobby like to hide his sharp intelligence under a good ol' boy persona, his vocabulary sometimes betrayed him. He put aside that observation and thought about Sam again. "I was not pleasant to him when we first met. Yet, he bought me coffee and always offered me a seat. He was more than simply polite. He was…kind."
"Don't fight it. You won't win. Just give in and like the kid," offered Bobby, going back to his book.
It was years after that that Cas found himself facing a dilemma. Sam was determined to find Gadreel, no matter the cost. He carried the murders Gadreel had committed as his own. He wanted Cas to risk his life to find Metatron's second in command. But Cas thought about the nature of human life. He thought about his words to Anna so long ago: "Sam is my friend."
As he healed Sam and explained why he wouldn't take his life to make sure they could complete the tracking spell, Cas remembered fighting at his friend's side. He remembered saving him and being saved. He remembered movie nights and a disastrous attempt they made to bake Dean lasagna for his birthday. He thought of how things would sometimes show up in his room at the bunker – a colorful comforter for the bed, a reading lap, his own hunter's journal. He thought about the thousands of ways over the years that Sam had said without using the actual words, you're my friend.
Maybe Bobby was right. Maybe becoming friends with and growing to care for Sam Winchester had simply been inevitable.