A/N: Another winning piece from #FandomPubQuiz on tiktok! This time with a Zombie Apocalypse AU. As some of you know I'm in the middle of writing a TWD xo SPN, so this will be good practice without having to worry about TWD plotlines. (Title is referencing 'Seven' by Taylor Swift from the now GRAMMY AWARD WINNING album folklore.) Mind the tags if you're sensitive to gore. I think I'll be describing this one as fluffy gore with a side of hopeless longing.
Thanks to Amber for reading through this story and encouraging me. I so appreciate you.
Also, there will be a podfic of this story coming soon! I will link it when it's live. (:
If it wasn't the bozos that got you, or the exposure, then it was certainly the loneliness. Being in the North certainly made one of those things a bit easier for six to eight months out of the year, but it made one of the others a lot harder. The last one was an expected constant after all the loss everyone had suffered. Something about the extreme cold, the amounts of snow, it slowed the bozos down. They froze in the deep cold, and got buried in the snow. Even if you stumbled upon one, they never moved fast enough to be able to catch you off guard. Sure they thawed in the summer, but there were whole roving bands of survivors that would pick off as many as possible during the winter. It was smart. It made sense why so many native northerners had survived this long. Sure, the initial wave had been rough because the fresh ones still moved with moderate speed, but as the years wore on they seemed to be alright.
Dean Winchester had carved out a place for himself in this world of cold and ice. He had a group who needed him, so he wasn't entirely lonely, but after the pain of losing his brother and his best friend, it was easier to maintain emotional distance. That was his rule 'No Commiserating' that he tried to abide by just to keep himself sane. Dean could carry that weight on his own. Because it wasn't just his brother and best friend he'd lost, it had been his entire group. Flash flood situation, back when they were still trying to make it down south. Maybe it had been a hurricane, it was hard to tell without meteorologists to keep an eye on the weather from above.
He really didn't like going into it too much. Especially when thinking about it all led to dark thoughts that were only chased away with alcohol, and that was all too scarce these days. So instead he'd study maps, pour over them. Looking for a place, the place they could finally settle down in. Their group had been roaming for a few years now. He owed everything to them, they'd pulled him out of the rushing waters and saved his life, even when he didn't feel like he deserved to live. Bobby kicked his ass, and sent him off on new missions. Ellen made sure he ate, even when food was scarce and Dean tried to give it up for the younger ones. Charlie made sure he laughed still, talking about all their old nerdy interests and debating things from Star Wars and Lord of the Rings until someone had to break them up. Victor followed him out on missions when he was being especially reckless and stupid. Kept him in check, and also kicked his ass from time to time.
Even Cassie was there once in a while, the only one who knew him from before. He'd thought for a while they might have something again, she kicked ass and she was gorgeous. Cassie was, as everyone around him reminded him, perfect for him, but what they didn't understand was Cassie deserved better than him. Not that he hadn't tried, he just couldn't seem to find it in himself to give her his whole self. He'd loved her once, he knew he had, but these days that didn't seem to be an option. His heart just seemed like a proverbial ache, always there and present. Proving yet again why he kept an emotional disconnect where he could, he didn't know if it did any good.
It wasn't like he never talked about them… Cas, Sam, and the rest of his family. He'd grown up with them, they'd spent their whole lives pre-apocalypse having ridiculous adventures. He told stories of them whenever he could to whoever would listen. Tonight it was Garth and Billie, the most polar opposite people that you could find in the camp. Garth listened with rapt attention, facing you and reacting to every single thing, maybe laughing a bit too loud and asking a few too many questions. Billie barely even acknowledged your presence, other than the occasional noncommittal hum or barely raised eyebrow, and if Dean's story was especially entertaining he might even get a small smirk.
"When I think of Cas and me as kids, we were always running through the trees." Dean said from his chair near the fireplace. It was early March, so they were all still bundled up and spending time making sure they could stay warm. The small section of upper class houses they'd found to stay in had all been well and solidly built, mainly they spent the days searching out food or picking off the bozos they found laying around. It was cold, but they weren't always fearing for their lives. "We used to run away from Sammy when he was little. He always wanted to be around us, hang out with us, and we let him… for the most part. Some days I just needed time with my friend."
"Makes sense." Garth chimed in with a nod from where he was stoking the fire. Billie sat back in the corner, wrapped in a blanket, seemingly staring off into space and ignoring them. The rest of the group had picked other rooms in the house, half the reason they'd stayed was the amount of fireplaces throughout the mansion. That way they didn't have to spend every night in a cold huddle on the floor, they could actually spread out. "Can't be a big brother all the time." Garth continued.
"I loved Sammy. Being his big brother was one of the best things in my life. But Cas… that was different. We used to swing into this creek. Daring each other to go higher and higher before we would jump off. When Dad first hung it up, he called Cas a coward. We were only seven at the time, so the drop to the water seemed so far. But Cas was stubborn, even in the face of John Winchester. I always envied him for that. He was better at standing up to my asshole of a father than I was." Dean smiled a bit and looked down, his hands itching for a bottle or a glass, something to dull the ache that flared up. He shook his head a bit to clear his thoughts, then looked back up into the fire.
"That night, I snuck out of my house. Don't know how I wasn't caught. I scaled up the side of Cas' house and got him out of bed." Dean chuckled softly to himself. "He always had the worst bed head. He looked at me so confused, but Cas he… always trusted me. So he got out of bed, put his swimsuit on and we went back to the creek." Dean closed his eyes, and he could just see it. Though the memory was more than two decades old. The stars had been so clear that night, they reflected in Cas' eyes which were a nicer shade than that of the creek. The air had felt crisp without being cool. They were warm with the adrenaline of sneaking out which made their smiles especially bright every time they glanced at each other. Young enough that they could still hold hands because they didn't yet know how society felt about that.
"We'd been swimming in that creek for years at that point. And yeah, maybe it was stupid to go out there by ourselves when we were so young, but it felt important at the time." Dean paused and ran a hand down his face, Garth was watching him with his usual kind eyes that Dean couldn't look at. They were too sympathetic in the best and worst ways. "Anyway, I told him I'd go in the water. That I'd pull him up after he plunged in. I wouldn't let him get sucked under, or drown, or float away. He said he'd do it cause he wanted to be brave for me… but he was the bravest person I've ever known. So he did it. I went in the water, he got on the swing and swung into the water. He over shot a bit, crashed right into me, but it was so worth it. All of it. We snuck back in that night as the sky was just starting to get light again."
"Sounds like you guys had fun." Garth smiled wistfully. One of the reasons Dean loved talking with Garth and Billie is because neither felt the need to throw in their own stories every other sentence. They both just listened. Garth would talk sometimes, ridiculous stories usually involving how clumsy he's always been, but especially as a child. Garth was good at getting people to laugh at his own expense.
"We did. Kept doing it all throughout growing up. It was our thing. Midnight swims in the creek. Jumping off the swing and trying to catch the other one, which half the time ended up in a wrestling match."
"What happened the other half?" Billie spoke up from her corner, her look full of meaning that crowded Dean's throat. Nausea crept up on him, he clasped his hands together appearing to rub them for warmth but actually to shake off the full body feeling of loss. Garth shot a nasty look at Billie that Dean would have missed, except he knew these people too well, and they knew him. Garth had noticed his abrupt change in demeanor, it didn't matter if his face didn't show it because some part of him did.
Cassie and him had dated for a bit back when she was in college and Dean was just roaming, trying to find his place in the world while Cas had been away at college and Sam had been at his fancy boarding highschool. Dean had loved her, but when he'd told her the truth of who he was, she had run away. Unable to accept, or maybe just too young to understand. She did now, she'd grown up a bit, or perhaps the apocalypse had put a little perspective into her life. Hard to tell, but what mattered was she was good about it now, didn't judge him. The only thing Dean hated about her was how she always seemed on the edge of pressing him to talk about things he didn't want to think about. One day while they were pouring over maps studiously, cross referencing with other maps she tapped him on the wrist, lightly touching the bracelets there.
"Do they have a story?" She asked gently, and Dean almost pulled away but one look into her eyes and he knew he was about to spill something. He let out a sigh wondering when they had all become each other's therapists. Dean gently pulled his wrist away from her to look at the bracelets, as much a part of him as his leather jacket and car had once been. He made a motion to play with his ring and was once again reminded where it had gone, which left a faint pang in his chest. He twisted his fingers around where the ring once sat to stave it off, a nervous habit he knew the whole camp had seen him do a million times. He looked at the faded friendship bracelet, braided into a sturdy pattern and the black elephant hair bracelet next to it.
"Cas used to make them. He was obsessed with them one summer." Dean said, indicating the faded rainbow colored bracelet. "I had loads for a while. Some were definitely better than others." Dean said with a small huffed laugh. "Do you know about the superstition around friendship bracelets?" Dean asked Cassie. She shook her head and smirked at him kindly.
"No. You should tell me." She said and reached out to grab his hand, not any sort of move on him, just one friend supporting another. Dean squeezed her hand back.
"You're supposed to let the person who made it for you tie it on, and you can't take it off until it falls off." Dean tells her, a free finger going to his own wrist and tracing it lightly.
"What happens if you take it off too soon?" Cassie asks.
"Then the wish doesn't come true." Dean tells her without looking up, his chest feels like it's caving in. "I don't know what Cas' wish was, so I can only hope it was a good one since this one has been on my wrist since we were 17. He'd given me others since then, but this one is the stubborn one."
"I remember you had that one plus a few others when I met you." Cassie said as she nodded. "Why those colors?" She asked and Dean sighed, remembering the series of events that led up to this specific bracelet.
"Cas had been struggling with something for a few months. I knew he was hiding something from me, and it was driving me crazy 'cause we always told each other everything. Finally one day we're out in the woods and he pulls this out of his backpack. Said he was sorry for how he had been acting, but he was ready to tell me now. All this time he's pulling this rainbow thing through his fingers cause he's all nervous and flushed with worry." Dean smiles a bit remembering how easily Cas could get flustered in the right situations. "He wanted to tell me he was Gay. He needed to tell me, then he begged me not to tell anyone. He was worried 'cause of the asshole my dad was that maybe I'd hate him for wanting to love guys." Dean scoffed at that and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. "I almost smacked him for that. Told him he clearly didn't know me at all if he thought there was anything that would ever make me turn my back on him." He doesn't say it outloud, part of the memory just for him was the crashing relief on Cas' face. The way he'd teared up and threw his arms around Dean. How Dean had felt Cas' tears on his neck. How fiercely they held each other. He remembered distinctly the feel of Cas' beating heart against his chest, the answering beat of his own feeling like an earthquake between them.
That distinct feeling of not wanting to let him go, to just keep holding him forever that had floored Dean in the moment. Castiel, his nerdy adorable best friend, who ran through the woods with him and went for night swims and cared for Sam like he was his own brother. Cas had pulled back and wrapped the bracelet on Dean. He had been putty in Cas' hands, present in the moment but also screaming in his head. There was a moment where Cas had hesitated in tying, then he'd looked up at Dean and met his eyes so hopeful and almost shy. Then Dean had watched his skilled fingers wrap the most beautiful knot with the ends, the occasional brush of those fingers on Dean's skin did what they always did, but now there was just another layer. A realization.
"What about this one?" Cassie asked, pulling Dean out of his memories.
"Uhh, Sammy. Cas taught him how to make them, but Sam didn't think he could get away with making me another rainbow one. So for my 21st birthday he made this." Dean remembered his little brother's firm and determined look on his face, when he made Dean promise to try to find happiness and stop worrying about what everyone else thought. Sam had always been wise beyond his years, knew Dean had been struggling so much at the time.
"Do you ever…" Cassie started hesitantly and looked up at him, biting her lip. She let out a puff of air. "Dean, you survived. Do you ever think-"
"No." Dean said firmly, his voice dropping into a threatening gravel. Cassie continued, voice pitched soft but frantic, as if she'd thought about this for a while and just never dared to say it.
"They were both strong, full grown men! They could have been pushed to the other bank, they-"
"Cassie I said no! They're dead. That's that." Dean pulled away from her, shutting down to fight off the ache that felt more like a stab at her unnecessary insistence. He grabbed some maps and left the room, unable to even feel her false hope pressing on his firm certainty.
They were both dead. Sam and Castiel didn't survive the flood. Because if they had somehow survived, potentially as injured or worse off than he was, he had never searched for them. If they had survived only to die because they were waiting for Dean to-.. He couldn't let himself go down that train of thought, not without a bottle to drown away the side effects of misplaced hope.
Charlie could often get more out of him than just nerdy things. He would tell her about the parts of him and his past that still ripped him open, and she would tell him hers. It was a trade in vulnerability, so that they both always had ammunition they would never use. Charlie was like a little sister to him, and her girlfriend Jo. Though where Charlie was all bubbly smarts, Jo was all deadly information. They were a perfect pair. But Jo was a little harsher with her caring towards Dean, she got that from her mother, and by association neither were included in the super secret Dean and Charlie talks.
"It's weird, I can't tell if the apocalypse has made me better at therapizing my friends, or if our problems are just more obvious now that we're all colored similar shades of trauma." Charlie said with a bit of a hiccup. They were on a gathering mission and had stumbled upon a full bottle of the good stuff, as Charlie had dubbed it. Dean tended toward the thought that anything was good, but Charlie insisted that this stuff had been top shelf. So here they were, sprawled out on the floor of some unnamed place they'd found refuge in for the night. Heads put together side by side on the floor so they could hear each other easily, but also so they could both gaze up through the small hole in the roof at the stars.
"I had the same thought a few weeks ago. How much we have to be therapists for each other and not a single one of us with any degree in psychology." Dean told her and sat his head up slightly for another sip.
"Speak for yourself, Winchester. I know plenty about psychology." Charlie told him indignantly and Dean just scoffed.
"Oh I'm sorry Doctor Headshrink. And you got your degree from where? The College of Any Online Information you could digest in a week-long obsession?" Dean snarked back at her and Charlie laughed easily.
"Hey, you have no right to judge my methods of learning! I'm the smartest person you know." Charlie bantered back.
"You're the smartest person I've ever known. You'd even give Sam and Cas a run for their money." Dean told her honestly and heard Charlie giggle just a bit.
"Anyway, your mom sounds like she reacted exactly how I expected her too after all the stories you've told me about her. She really loved you." Charlie says kindly and nudges Dean with her elbow. "What about your dad?" Dean sighed, knowing this was Charlie cashing in a chip to something Dean avoided as part of their friend therapy relying on mutual vulnerability. John Winchester was a ghost Dean liked imagining only in his past.
"Cas hated him, if that gives you any idea." Dean opened up, and though he'd told her about John before it had always been a passing mention of another story. How he had influenced one small thing. He takes another swig of drink and forges on. "He was an asshole." Charlie reached out and grabbed his hand, he gripped it like a lifeline.
"What did he do?" Charlie asked softly and Dean scoffed.
"Barely anything good. Sometimes we went to a baseball game, or he would tie up a swing at the creek. Sometimes there would be weeks where he was fine, and he loved mom. That was one thing he never did wrong, even when he was deep in a bender. He always came home." Dean let his arm drape across his eyes and felt Charlie squeeze him reassuringly. "It was the PTSD. Dad was in 'Nam. It messed him up so bad, but it didn't hit him till after the house fire. We lived in motels for a few weeks, the four of us. Sam was just a baby, so he doesn't remember. We barely slept. Dad kept waking up screaming, so then he started drinking just so he could sleep. At first we were relieved, but then he didn't stop. He lost his job, mom had to go back to work, she was brilliant. Dad was falling apart and she never wavered, she was always there for us." Dean swallowed thickly, thinking about his mom was always a sure way to make him weepy. But this was Charlie. He could tell her, he'd told her practically everything by this point, so he could give her this too. Share the weight a bit and maybe it would be a bit less heavy.
"But mom, she had to go away sometimes. She was in business with her father and some cousins. So when she was away she would threaten dad to shape up, and he did during the day but… at night-" Dean let out a breath of air. Charlie squeezed his hand and Dean let his arm slip down from over his eyes. "He never hit us. Never laid a hand on us, other than spanking a bit when we were really young. But he wasn't himself when he would drink. Like half of him just slipped sideways out his ear." Dean tried not to shudder at the mental picture in his head, but kept talking by sheer will of not letting it drown him. "He would walk a bit funny. His one eye would go all squinty, I once asked him why and he said cause it hurt. That was one of the first signs. Sometimes he would just get caught staring off into space. Other times you'd catch this smell off him and you'd be sure he'd wet himself." Dean swallowed feeling his eyes prick with the beginnings of tears.
"Then there was the yelling. Sometimes, I don't know if he even realized quite how loud it was. Other times I knew he did. Some days he would just rant and rave about us, about the town, about his jobs. He had them occasionally. Sometimes, he would be so bad. It was scary, especially when we were young. I used to take Sammy and we'd hide in a closet. I'd lock us in and give Sammy some headphones so he could fall asleep. Then I'd wait, the whole night sometimes, for him to pass out so I could carry Sam to bed. One time he just sat outside the closet waiting, but didn't see us. I don't know what he was seeing." Dean shook his head. "As we got older it was more clear that it was just pathetic. He was crippled by his addiction, and he could barely see us through the haze. Sam despised him for it. He only ever knew the person dad was with a bottle in his hand, never saw him for who he actually was. By the time he actually wanted to get sober, it was too late." Dean let that hang in the air. He could feel Charlie breathing next to him, felt her tiny palm wrapped around his, he didn't deserve her and yet he had her.
"There were a lot of times where Cas would come in the house when he heard John yelling. When I was young and even when I was teenager, Cas was always pulling me out of hell. Saving me from bullshit at school too, I'd get into fights. But he'd hear my dad going off so he'd come in the house and tell him off. It always shocked the hell out of John. This tiny, dark haired, blue eyed little thing telling him to shut up and stop scaring his son's. Then he would come and find us and he'd take us over to his house for the night. His dad was an alcoholic too, but the pass out and distant kind. Barely ever saw him really." Dean smiled thinking of one particular night. "Sometimes we'd go over to his house and his dad was nowhere to be seen. Cas said he was the heaviest sleeper, so we would put Sammy to bed and then we'd play pirates, or cowboys, or astronauts, or anything we could come up with. But usually the first two, 'cause they were my favorite. And Cas knew I wouldn't be able to sleep easily till I got dad's episode off my mind."
"I wish I could have met him." Charlie said wistfully, he heard a shuffling noise as she turned to look at him so Dean tilted his head to look at her. "Would we have gotten along?" Dean couldn't help but smile a bit at the thought.
"Oh definitely. You two would have gotten on like a house on fire." Dean told her and Charlie winced. "Hey, I'm allowed to joke about it. I actually survived a house fire." She laughed lightly at that.
"Did you ever tell your dad about…" Charlie wiggled her eyebrows a bit and Dean let out a huff and couldn't hold back a wince. "Ooh… that bad?"
"Worse. And actually not too bad." He said, turning back to look at the ceiling.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Charlie asked, curiosity eating her up which just made Dean chuckle.
"He didn't take it well. But when he started spewing some bullshit-... well, Mom punched him."
"She did what?!" Charlie asked with a squeak at the end, sitting up to stare at Dean in disbelief, Dean just nodded.
"Simultaneously one of the worst and best moments of my life." Dean told her.
"And they stayed together?" Charlie asked incredulously. Dean just laughed with a chuckle.
"That was the tipping point. Mom ripped him a new one. Said she'd put up with it for long enough, that he'd already wrecked his relationship with one of his son's, and if he said one more bad thing to me it wouldn't just be that relationship he would be ruining."
"Ooooohh. Your mom was a badass." Charlie said in awe. Dean nodded.
"She was." He said with a smile on his face. After a few more moments of comfortable silence she settled back down on the floor next to him. He could feel her gearing up to ask another question. There was no point avoiding it, he knew it would come out when she got the will.
"What about when you told Cas? I'm assuming you told him first." Charlie got out finally, sending Dean reeling back to the time when he wasn't sure he was ever gonna tell anyone. At the time it felt like the end of his world, the horrible irony was that it was the end of the world. He told Cas just as the first weird news reports were starting. At the time it had all seemed like background information. Not like they lived in a big city or anything, Lawrence was small enough to just not worry about what those big places got up to.
He'd said goodbye to his parents and taken off with Sam and Cas for their roadtrip. It was supposed to be a last hurrah for all three of them. Cas who had done his undergrad at Kansas Tech, would be moving to NYC to attend Columbia for his graduate degree. Then Sam would be moving to California so he could go to Stanford. Dean would be left alone, still unsure of his life, torn between the two coasts with his two favorite people, and his parents in the middle. They were gonna take two weeks, hit everything from the biggest ball of twine(Cas' choice), to some National Parks(Sam's choice), and down to New Orleans for some fun(Dean's choice, obviously).
"Hello? Earth to Dean. Where are you?" Charlie nudged him with her elbow and Dean shook his head to clear it.
"Sorry, it's just… when I told them all it was only a few weeks before. You remember how things started on the coast and then spread inward? Well when I first told Cas was also the first day I remember hearing about how weird people were acting in LA."
"Oh wow that's… some serious timing you have there." Charlie said and Dean huffed out a bitter laugh.
"You're telling me." Dean said, mind still stuck on the road trip that separated all of them from their parents permanently and led them down this deadly path where Dean was left alone, just like he'd been worrying about before the trip. He'd trade anything to have his brother and best friend only on opposite coasts.
"You don't have to tell me about telling Cas, but it might be a better place than wherever your brain is heading now." Charlie piped up and Dean wanted to curse at her, but knew better. She knew him too well. His whole rule about not commiserating with these people, stewing in his misery, always wavered around her. Charlie was right, thinking about the good moments with Cas always made him feel a bit bitter, even if it stirred up that ache inside of him. Charlie wanted him to share the weight with her.
"We were in the woods.."
"Of course you were." Charlie quips which makes Dean roll his eyes.
"We were in the fort we had built. Cas refused to call it a tree-house since we had built it for tactical advantages."
"What were the advantages?" Charlie asked.
"We could see anyone coming from a long way away. We also camouflaged the hell out of it. Cas was a genius, he figured out how to get these vines to grow over and around it so we didn't have to use fake ones. He had the idea to use a rope ladder instead of one nailed to a tree, and I figured out this way to rig it up to the base of the fort, that way we could hide a string that would unravel it for easy access."
"Genius." Charlie breathed out, clearly impressed. "So you were up there when you told him?" Dean nodded and continued.
"I'd say we 'snuck' out but seeing as we were both over 18… Anyway it was night, and we were having a sleepover up there just like we always used to. We had some real lanterns up there that we put candles in instead of kerosene, and we had padded chunks of the floor so it was real cozy. Only needed blankets or sleeping bags. Normally I was roaming the country while he was at college, but in the summer we would both come home and spend time together. This time though, I'd left him a note. Told him to come find me there later that night. I was up there all day, worrying my way through multiple attempts.." Dean's hand went to his wrist where he played with the faded rainbow friendship bracelet there. Charlie saw the movement and realization dawned on her.
"You gave him a bracelet like he did for you didn't you? A pink, purple, and blue one?" Charlie asked excitedly.
"Yeah, but it took me like 10 tries to get it just right. Even when I had something passable it was never as neat as Cas' were." Dean shook his head remembering how many times his dumb fingers kept getting in the way, how many times he'd pinched them when tying a knot. "So Cas, of course, didn't ask why I'd summoned him to our old hang out. I mean, we were 20 at that point. We didn't go up there super often anymore. But like I said, he didn't press it. We just hung out and talked and argued and what not till it was well past midnight. The lanterns were burning low, both of us were getting sleepy when he finally asked if there was a reason why I'd left him a note instead of just texting him, or even just telling him. I nearly clammed up, but I was determined if I was gonna tell someone it had to be Cas. He'd understand. Course I was worried about all the biphobia crap, but I knew Cas could never be like that to me." Dean shook his head at his past self, even worrying about stuff like this. Cas was the most understanding, kind, and wonderful person he'd ever met.
"So you gave him the bracelet? Bet you didn't even say a word." Charlie prompted, but he could hear the smile in her voice. Dean huffed out a laugh.
"Yeah, I just couldn't get words out. And Cas was always watching me so carefully, he saw me blush despite the lowlight, I know it. I stumbled to form words, so I just gave up and then pulled it out of my pocket and held it out for him to see. I didn't watch his face at first, 'cause I was too nervous. But after a moment he asked if it was for him. I somehow grumbled out a yes, so he grabbed it really carefully to look at it." Dean remembered the reverant look on Cas' face as he examined the bracelet as if it were something precious and priceless. How he'd achingly waited for Cas to say something, anything to indicate he knew what it meant. He'd never even made Cas one of the bracelets before. Sure, Cas had tried to teach him but Dean always gave up, it was Cas' thing, not his. "Eventually he'd looked up at me like he was about to cry, which freaked me out for a moment till he just said he was so proud of me."
"Bet you cried." Charlie whispered teasingly. Dean darted his eyes at her and scoffed at that, but he didn't answer because he absolutely had.
"He asked me to put it on him, and I did while he instructed me how to tie it like he had with his rainbow one. We hugged. End of story." Charlie protested minorly but Dean just shoved her and they lapsed into an easy quiet where Dean could actually play the memory over again for himself. He would tell Charlie anything, but she didn't need all the details. Like the way his heart had pounded so loud in the quiet space of Cas' quiet affirmations. How Cas' instructional whispers had prickled up and down his skin leaving him covered in goosebumps. The way Dean had let his fingers linger on Cas' wrist just after he'd finished tying the knot, how he'd let his fingers ghost a trail down Cas' hand before they dropped back into his lap. Specifically though, Dean lost himself in the memory of Cas' eyes when he'd met them just after that. Dean's breath had caught in his throat, his chest seemed to clog, his heart puttering wildly out of rhythm at the way Cas seemed to look at him like Dean was his everything. But Dean had known then it wasn't true.
Maybe Dean's path to bisexuality had started with the moment his best friend had told him about his own sexuality. That wasn't Cas' truth though. Just cause Dean had gone and been the total cliché queer who fell in love with his best friend didn't mean anything for Cas' side. He'd spent 3 years coming to terms with that fact, as well as understanding and realizing it wasn't just Cas that he was attracted to. But in that space, in those few inches between them after Dean had given Cas this piece of himself, he liked to pretend that Cas had wanted Dean to kiss him. It would feature prominently in his dreams for years to come, that look.
Sure, in the next year he would meet Cassie, who was fun and pretty. Dean had really liked her, he was willing to try with her, the whole relationship thing that was never his style, and the honesty thing. But it wasn't ever love, because no matter how hard he tried to get away from it, he always just pictured Cas. He was much better suited to the one night stand lifestyle. Pretending was easy if it lasted only for the night, but longer than that made him feel guilty. Any relationship he would enter into for longer than a night felt disingenuous. It wasn't fair to the other person that Dean couldn't give his whole self, no one deserved to be lead on like that.
When he had pictured his future, or his ideal relationship, or anything like that it had always been with Cas by his side. Always within reach. Even now in this apocalyptic wasteland, 7 months since the flood that had taken the two most important people away from him, it was hard to imagine any type of future. He continued on, because doing anything else would be a disservice to their memory and their love for him. Even when it felt like some days he was just existing, he'd push himself forward, reminding himself to live. They'd talked about it, back in the early days of the apocalypse, the what ifs in case they lost each other. Sam had told him to find someone to protect, so he'd found a group. Cas had told him to let people in, had hammered it into him really.
"Dean, you're a 'people person', as they say. You need people. You'll wanna shut down and run away, but remember even if it's only one person, it counts."
Cas words echoed to him across the months and straight into the gaping hole in his chest where he belonged. His 'no commiserating' rule was a complete sham. He told stories about Sam and Cas to anyone who would listen, he had these sessions with Charlie, and Cassie… Garth even. Maybe he wasn't always sharing the sad bits, but he was still spreading out the weight of pain that even the happy memories caused.
"Do you ever think-..." Charlie spoke up, but cut herself off.
"What?" Dean asked after she didn't finish her questions.
"Nothing." Charlie said far too quickly.
"Charlie." Dean said with only a bit of annoyance, which made Charlie yield with a sigh.
"It's okay to hope, Dean. I know it hurts. But considering everything that is this world, it's okay to let yourself want something." Charlie said quietly.
Dean didn't answer her.
Sam had been so distinct and giant that Dean didn't often mistake bozos for his brother. Few people were as tall as him. But Cas… that was much harder.
Dean would be carefully and methodically hacking his way through a crowd of bozos, even out on his own he was a force to be reckoned with. But if he saw a bozo just a bit shorter than him with messy dark hair his heart would seize and his breathing would catch. It was his biggest weakness. Thankfully, or maybe not so thankfully, they were never Cas. If one of them was, then maybe Dean could actually move on instead of having to constantly lie and knock down the people around him who told him to hope. He was especially vicious on the ones that looked like Cas, all that anger and grief boiling over into something he could kill. A clean slice through the neck of the goey flesh. A satisfying stab into an eyeball socket. Even just smashing the hell out of their skulls, curb stomping when given the opportunity. The same way he felt about the stabbing sensation of hope everytime he thought he saw that familiar dark bed head.
He wished he could just kill the hope too, that way he would be able to live without the ghosts of his family always hanging over him. Dean especially grieved the life he could have had with Cas had he not been such a coward for most of his life. His thumb rubbed at his empty ring finger, his fingers trying to twist the jewelry that wasn't there.
When he returned to his camp that night, covered in gore and smelling absolutely vile, Charlie approached him practically vibrating with excitement.
"I have an idea." She told him, bouncing from foot to foot, her nose barely wrinkled once she got close to him. "Bobby and Ellen think it's a good idea, but they wanted me to ask you what you think." Charlie told him as she followed behind Dean who wasn't stopping on his mission to rinse the day off of him.
"Why ask me?" Dean asked. He wasn't the leader of their group. They didn't operate in a dictatorship fashion by any means, it was more Bobby and Ellen called the shots, and anyone could voice their opinion, but if you still disagreed with the final move then you could find a highway to start walking down.
"Because you're the best fighter, and the smartest one about tactical advantage." Charlie said with an eye roll like it was totally obvious. "Both Bobby and Ellen trust you with their lives. Hell Dean, this entire camp does. Your opinion means something." Dean wanted to scoff at that but he couldn't, as much as he liked being trusted he couldn't help the part of him that said everyone was making a giant mistake about that. He hadn't been able to keep his brother or best friend safe, and who was this group by comparison?
"So what is it? This plan. You've got five minutes before I'm stripping." Dean told Charlie who aptly shuddered.
"Yeah, I don't need to see that. Got it." She took a deep breath in preparation. "You know the Mall of America?"
"Yeah, big ass mall a bit more northeast of here. Why?" Dean looked at her, suspicions rising. Charlie was biting her lip before the words just seemed to burst out of her.
"I think we should go live there!" She squeaked out. Dean stopped dead in his tracks and turned back to look at her.
"What?" He said with enough incredulity to let Charlie know he thought she'd lost her mind.
"Okay, okay. This is the same way Bobby and Ellen reacted, but I've got a plan seriously." Charlie held up her hands, babbling super fast as she tried to explain. "The place is basically an entire city. Tons of back up generators hidden on the property, plus it's this massive cement structure so we don't need to worry about it's integrity long term. Tactically we could set it up for really easy defense, and in a place that big we could easily grow our group, start really trying to live in this dystopian future. Biggest challenge would be clearing the dead out. But I think I have a plan for that too, but you've got a better mind for that than me. I'm just a nerd with a plan and a freaky retention rate for unnecessary facts or floor plans." Charlie said that last part with an eyebrow wiggle that made Dean chuckle just a bit.
"You're crazy." Dean told her.
"I know its-"
"But I think it might be worth it." Dean interrupted her and Charlie positively glowed.
"Really?!" She smiled at him, clearly restraining herself a bit.
"If nothing else there would be potentially a lot of supplies we don't find much of elsewhere. Plus that place has a bunch of mini golf and arcades? We could use some fun in the apocalypse. Clearing it out will be hard. It will take everyone and we'll have to be super careful, methodically approaching each section, being super thorough. We'll want maps, a few more people, like Victor, in on this. Some heavy load trucks, cement blockers, so-" Charlie jumped and hugged him despite the filth, squeaking happily.
"Ugh you're so gross, but thank you thank you thank you! You're my favorite person ever! And don't tell my girlfriend I said that." Dean patted her back and smiled at her.
"Don't thank me just yet. We'll have to convince everyone else." Dean told her. Charlie nodded and grimaced down at her clothes.
"Well, thanks for believing in me at least. Now go get ungross then come find me so we can plan." Charlie smiled evilly, as if they were planning a prank war and not the biggest move their group would ever do. Dean shook his head at her antics as he headed into the bathroom. They didn't have running water, but he could still rinse off in the tub with a bucket of water and some soap. It was February now, almost March. If they moved fast they could get to the Mall when the bozos were still slow.
Charlie's tactical plan had been smart. Under the mall was where the old commuter rail used to end, as well as buses. There were a lot of railings and fences, all they needed to do was open the doors into the mall and make a lot of noise to summon them down. From what they could tell, the Mega Mall had been used as a refugee camp in the early days. But things had gone sour, very very sour. Now the building was a mess of half fortified, half infested with bozos. Dean had a thrill running through his veins as the adrenaline kicked into high gear. It would take days, if not weeks of careful sweeping and planning to get the bozos out and keep them from getting back in.
For now the plan was very slowly and carefully pressing forward, fortifying, then pressing forward again. Section by section, bit by bit making sure they were good on three sides before moving more into danger. It was going well, Dean was calling out directions, Bobby and Ellen on either side making sure the rest of the team was paying attention. Charlie was directing Dean, Jo was covering her while Victor watched Dean. They made their way out of the old train station and up the first set of escalators, the goal today was to make it into the rotunda and block off the offshoots from it, while also fortifying the stores immediately there. (Charlie was particularly excited about Barnes and Noble, Jo was creeped out by the idea of the aquarium which also gave Dean the creeps. They would not be tackling that today either. Victor just wanted to know if the subway would still have that familiar bread smell.)
Once they broke out onto the main floor, the smells of rotting flesh and fish were overpowering. A few people had to break from formation as they lost the contents of their stomach. The bozos were overwhelming. They hadn't made too much noise, but that didn't seem to matter because the bozos were making enough noise to summon more of them. Then the open flow plan was causing lots of crashing noises as the bozos in the upper levels fell over the railings and obliterated themselves on the bottom floor. For the most part that killed them, but the ones falling from only one floor above often survived enough to cause issues. It turned to chaos quickly. They needed to get their truck with the cement blocker into the mall, but there wasn't a way to do it without making a fuck ton of noise.
"Just smash through the front!" Dean called out to the guys, and Garth took off leading that team back down into the train station to coordinate.
"Smashing open the front is gonna leave us open to more dead from outside the mall!" Charlie told him, which Dean already knew.
"We were gonna have to block off the main doors with cement anyway. As is, we need more time in here or we're gonna get seriously fucked over. " Dean told her which made Charlie grimace and nod. She sent Jo over to the doors to direct the truck boys through. Even though Garth aimed the vehicle carefully, there would still be a problem. The digger they had found downstairs had brought out to knock down the cement vehicle stoppers, and with that destroyed Garth plowed through.
To say little of it, it was loud. But once the hole was made they were able to block off the chunk of the left wing not blocked by benches. Didn't change the fact that the loud truck echoing in the mall, plus the chorus of growling noises seemed a cacophony determined to draw even more.
"Uh… Guys?" Jo called to Dean and Charlie, pointing toward the blockade out of the rotunda and into the amusement park. "We didn't set that up, right?" She asked then pulled back to hack into the skull of another bozo approaching her.
"Blondie, don't you think we woulda noticed Garth driving over there?" Victor said as he kicked one in the leg and plunged his weapon into its skull.
"Guys, not now." Dean snapped, not in the mood to deal with them bickering.
"Well I'm just saying, the refugee camp wouldn't have set it up!" Jo snarked back, words seemingly armed to spite Victor while informing everyone else.
"She has a point." Charlie said to Dean from where she stood just behind him.
"What?" Dean glanced back at her and over at the blockade. "Ya'll think there might be another group in here?" He called out a bit louder.
"Well let's hope they're friendly. Now stop yapping you idjits and concentrate!" Bobby scolded from where he was back by the escalators to the aquarium, still poking out the dead as they climbed up. His admonishment was well timed too as a shattering sounded from above and many many more bozos fell from the floor above into the rotunda.
"Son of a bitch." Dean cursed. The operation was going sideways quick, and everyone was getting tired. If they had to retreat and while fighting their way out it might be the end of all of them.
"Dean!" Charlie called in a fear tinged voice as she fell, a bozo on top of her with another snapping at her neck. Dean's fear made his reflexes fast, he killed the bozo on her but was grabbed before he could pull it off, he hacked the things arm off, congealed blood substance splattering everywhere, then he stuck his blade in its head. He moved as fast as he could, but there were so many bozos that he was losing sight of his people. He could hear Charlie behind him, and Jo cursing at the ones around her, but he couldn't see Victor. Fear clogged his throat, he wanted to call out for him but was worried about drawing even more into this mess.
Suddenly someone with blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail jumped down into the fray from the blockade into the amusement park, she hacked and sliced with skill, and Dean watched amazed as more people hopped from the other side of the barrier.
"Heya! Sounded like trouble, need a hand?" Asked the blonde in a thick Minnesotan accent, Dean almost laughed from how silly it sounded in the middle of the fray. Charlie did laugh.
"Yes please!" Charlie asked, and Dean got the impression she would have hugged the woman if she wasn't so busy.
"Where the hell did you lot come from?" Asked another woman with short brown hair, and skill similar to the blonde woman's that made Dean think they had been trained in hand-to-hand before this all started.
"Just some ambitious dumbasses trying for a better life." Victor answered, which made Dean breathe a little easier. Their causal yelled conversation was almost comedic, too bad it couldn't last. Twenty or so people managed to make the work easier after they'd all jumped the blockade, but the bozos just kept coming. Dean's group kept working to clear a path for Garth, they needed a good path so the truck was still operable, and Garth was almost done blocking off the right side. As the blocks were placed, more people took up space behind them with spears to poke at the bozos gathering on the other side.
Just as things seemed to be clearing up for them, they all went to shit again. The opening in the second floor was still producing bozos who came crashing from above, and now a shattering from the other side indicated a break in the third floor. It was one thing to have to watch all sides, but another to keep checking up to make sure you weren't standing under and outpouring of dead. Dean looked at Charlie as he brain scrambled for ideas on what to do. There were countless bozos on the upper floors, and they'd only planned to tackle a small portion of the first floor today.
In his moment of distraction a bozo came up on his left flank, Dean only had the warning of Charlie's eyes widening slightly, he turned just in time to see someone from the other camp with short and curly blonde hair pounce on the thing and take it down. Dean took out the one coming behind her then turned to help her up.
"Thanks it's-" He froze as her face came into view, his chest constricted tightly as her familiar eyes widened in shock.
"Dean?" She asked, gripping his arm so tightly her knuckles were going white.
"Mom?" Dean's voice cracked as he looked at her. He couldn't believe it, he froze to the spot, something deep and heavy cracked off and broke free inside him just seeing her face. She moved first, back into action to deflect another bozo then she whipped back to him and pulled him into her arms.
"I thought-.. Well they said-.. You-..." She shook her head and pulled back, eyes slightly watery. "I'm so happy you're alive." Mary told him and Dean smiled.
"Let's try to stay that way, yeah?" He told her and she smiled back, jumping easily into the action again.
"Donna!" His mom called out after taking down another bozos, and swinging back into another one.
"Yeah, Mary?" Answered the blonde ponytail woman with the thick accent.
"That's Dean!" Mary told her, smiling even as she took down another one. Just then the roar of dead got even louder as a wandering mob of them encroached on the exterior doors just as Garth cleared them with the last cement barrier so Dean never heard her response, just heard the short brown haired woman yelling.
"Donna! We need to get everyone else over here or we're gonna lose this whole sector." She had the anger of a concerned mother as she swung her machete around.
"Right-o Jodie-o." Donna answered and picked up the walkie off her utility belt. "Hey fellas, we're gonna need some big guns over here stat. This is getting out of hand." Donna said as she stepped back to dodge a bozo that Mary easily dispatched so Donna could continue the conversation. The walkie came back a bit garbled through the sounds of bozos, but Dean heard Donna's response clear on this end. "Thanks Sam. 10-4." Dean's head snaps to his mom, the hope trying to crush him for a moment till he internally beats it back and focuses on the task at hand.
Face up, stance ready, kill these fucking bozos. He can feel the strain of his arms, all the repeated motions of stabbing, slicing, yanking, kicking, are starting to take a toll on his muscles. The adrenaline is starting to ebb the longer this goes, his limbs going shaky. He isn't surprised when his next swing goes wide and cuts into the bozos shoulder, just disappointed. Especially when the thing's shoulder gushes, the skin and muscle slides in a gross wet sound as the thing frees itself and topples Dean to the ground. He cries out as his leg hits bad and he knows at the least he's just sprained it. He's got his hands pressed into the things chest as its teeth in a lipless mouth snap in his face. Disgusting smells and textures all around him, the bozo's entire weight pressing him down and not allowing him to get leverage. He has no idea where his blade is but he can hear Charlie calling out to him, he turns his face to the side still holding back the disgusting thing as he tries to spot his weapon.
Dean's tired though, so tired, his hearing is starting to ring and maybe he went down harder than he thought if his head is starting to feel fuzzy. He's still struggling away from the thing, the smell of it's rotting flesh choking his throat when the thing is kicked forcibly off him. Just in time too, his vision is starting to swim, everything a little blurry on the edges.
"Dean?" Says a voice that comes from the fuzzy shape above him that has shaggy brown hair. A voice that echoes at him in his dreams and nightmares.
"S-sammy?" Dean slurs, trying to get up but his vision blacks out and he finds himself back on the ground. The guy moves away to stab the bozo through the head then he's back, closer to Dean's face so he can actually see him. Dean takes in a sharp breath that somehow makes his head hurt more. "Oh thank fuck, it is you." Dean says, and his voice sounds a bit high pitched and giddy to his ears. There's concern and shock on his baby brother's face.
"Dean, I-" Sam starts to say as he kneels next to Dean but then he's ripped away again. Dean hears Sam's frustrated yell as he smashes into more of the rancid things around them. Pain is thrumming through Dean's entire body. He reaches a hand up to his head and when he pulls away he finds his fingers damp and red. Definitely a head injury then, he thinks to himself and then carefully gently tries to sit up but his entire world spins. He tries desperately to keep his stomach calm and finally gets his hand around his blade. Just in time too, cause Dean hears the telltale snapping and growling coming toward him again.
His vision is partially cleared but everything still feels sluggish as Dean turns toward the sound. The bozo is pulling itself along the ground while it's mangled body is dragged behind it. This one must have been one of the ones to fall from above. The sounds around him blur as he moves to end the thing, he thinks he hears people calling his name, just as he manages to stab the thing between the eyes, pain explodes from his ankle. This horrible ripping and tearing sensation that makes a cold dread sweep through his body. Dean turns to look and sees the bozo clamped onto him, it makes him scream in pain somehow fighting his instincts and not ripping his leg away which would cause more damage. Which is a horribly funny thought considering the damage is already done. His blood is raining out of his leg and decorating the bozo's ashen face as it goes to town on the Dean special. His vision is suddenly horribly clear in the chaos but his hearing has shifted to completely echoey, like he's down a tunnel and away from everyone. Which is so unfortunate considering these will be his last moments before someone puts a bullet in his skull.
He thinks he can hear Sam yelling, and then he sees his favorite giant slicing into the thing munching on him so that's done, then Dean is kinda staring down at him horrified. Dean wants to tell him so many things, ask him so many things. Plus his mom is nearby too, and at least if he has to go out he gets to do it with them here. He knows they're okay, and that's more than he's had in a year. There's only one other person he wants to see right now.
"Dean!" The deep gravel of Castiel's voice cuts through Dean with both relief and pain. Suddenly his entire vision is Cas. Cas' hands on his cheeks, his blue eyes the only thing Dean wants to see anymore.
"Hi." Dean croaks out, lifting a hand to touch his cheek, he can feel the liquid in his eyes that's more than enough proof he's crying. The man he loves here with him right now, the only thing he could've wanted. Makes sense he only gets what he wants in life as he's dying.
"No, you're not dying. Shut up." Cas tells him which apparently means he's saying his thoughts out loud. Cas looks to the side away from Dean and Dean's trying to hold him in place. Looking at Cas helps him block out the pain. The relief of them being alive is enough to stave the strong throbbing, but he's starting to drown in the sensation of utter numbness as his life drains out and the poison bite of the bozo seeps into his leg. "Sam," Cas addresses his brother, all steel voice and hard edged determination that Dean has heard thousands of times in his life. "Hold him down." Cas rips off a huge chunk of his shirt, twists it and shoves it in Dean's mouth. Fleetingly Cas strokes his cheek and meets his eyes one more time. "You're not allowed to die." He grounds out through his teeth and Dean just nods weakly, cause he'd do anything for Cas.
Sam is on top of him then, pressing into his shoulders and it hurts so he grunts in pain, his brother gives him a look of apology. Dean's gaze just barely sees Cas standing over his legs and raising the machete in the air. The moment Dean realizes what's happening is just as Cas swings the blade down. He feels every bit of it, especially when Cas has to pull back and hack through his leg a second time. He knows he's screaming and blissfully embraces the black when it comes.
The blackness isn't complete. Sometimes voices float to him across the dark. Things about blood loss, his mother worrying, Charlie just talking to him. There are sensations too, mainly of someone holding his hand, sometimes gentle fingers on his face, and these pin and needle sensations coming from his left foot. But his eyes don't open, so he squeezes back the hand and wiggles his toes when he can. He doesn't know how long the darkness lasts, just that without preamble it suddenly seems to end.
First thing he sees is green leaves on tree branches, which is very strange because it's March in Minnesota, which means it's still winter in the North, nothing is growing quite yet. Next he notices how pleasantly warm he is, he's bathed in sunlight, and as his eyes focus he can see the glass ceiling above him where the sky is shining brightly through. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees bright swathes of color, he turns his head slightly and sees… hot air balloons? What the fuck? They're smaller than Dean thinks they should be. Turning his head just a bit more causes a faint ache to echo through his skull, and something to tickle his cheek. Dean pulls back slightly and sees a head of dark hair resting next to him, arms folded underneath it like a pillow. Something tight and warm seizes his chest, cause it's Cas sitting next to his bedside, asleep.
Barely anything in the world could have made Dean resist his urge to touch Cas in that moment, so he lets his fingers run through the soft messy hair and feels something akin to a little flame of joy flickering up his throat. Something that sparks along his skin pleasantly as Cas gently pushes his head into the motion. Dean feels his eyes start to water and burn, he'd never really let himself hope enough to think he'd get here. Maybe on the days when he wanted to pretend, all he thought about was his brother and best friend still being alive, now that this was his reality it was everything. Especially when Cas turned his face and Dean got to watch his eyes slowly peel away from sleep, his irises precisely the color of his favorite shade of blue. He could feel himself crying now and he didn't even care cause he knew he was also smiling. Cas saw him and it seemed to dawn on him very suddenly cause he shot up, his eyes going wide at the sight of Dean awake.
"Dean." Cas said with both relief and concern at seeing his tears. "Does it hurt? I didn't have another option, I just-" Cas cut himself off at the sight of Dean smiling at him. "What is it?" Cas asked, easily grabbing Dean's hand, even that show of affection bringing fresh tears to his eyes.
"Saying 'I missed you' doesn't cover it. But-" Dean squeezed Cas' hand, unable to get anymore words out. Dean glances down at their hands and sees his ring on Cas' right ring finger, then he looks up into Cas' eyes awed and just so in love with the man in front of him it's a wonder Cas doesn't know. Dean hopes the look in his eyes as he looks at Cas right now makes it clear that all this time since they were kids he couldn't ever picture anyone else by his side.
"Dean we had to-..." Cas seems distracted by something, he glances down at the end of his bed. "I cut off your foot. We weren't sure it would work but it did, and I don't regret it." Cas tells him and Dean wants to laugh at himself for not noticing. He pulls at the sheets around his legs and sees what he certainly didn't feel before. Which is so weird that it couldn't be anything but funny, so when he starts laughing Cas starts babbling clearly concerned. "Kate said it might be a shock when you woke up, but we made sure we had you on as much medication as was safe. They still might have to take the amputation up to the knee, but Kate thought it might be possible as is, as long as your bone doesn't break through the skin or muscle, and we find you a workable prosthetic asap." Cas finishes noticing Dean biting his lip and looking at him like he's the most adorable thing in the world, Cas sighs, a bit annoyed despite it all. "Dean this isn't funny, I cut off your leg."
"You saved my life. Not to mention I have you back, plus Mom and Sam, and I get to become a real life pirate." Dean is still smiling goofily at Cas' bewildered expression. "This is only a minor loss. I just thought it was funny cause I can't feel that it isn't there. In movies you hear about phantom sensations of lost limbs, but I didn't think it would feel this… tingly?" Dean practically giggles and sees Cas crack the smallest of smiles at his best friend's goofiness.
"I guess we were so worried about the pain none of us thought what it would feel like without pain." Cas said with his brow furrowed in thought, then he looks back and Dean and reaches his hand up to Dean's cheek, caressing gently. Dean moves into the motion like an eager cat, closing his eyes as the smallest feelings of bliss light up inside him. "How are you feeling otherwise?"
"Over the moon. Maybe further?" Dean answers, opening his eyes to find Cas smiling fondly at him.
"As far as Saturn?" Cas asks, stroking his thumb under Dean's eye before pulling back.
"Oh at least." Dean tells him, then they're just staring at each other like total idiots, Dean smiling and Cas smirking back at him keeping them in a feedback loop of happiness. Dean squeezes their hands again which draws his gaze back to the silver ring he gave Cas the last night they were together. Dean's thumb fiddles with it lightly so that Cas also looks down, the memory running through both of their minds. "I was so angry that night." Dean shook his head and looked away.
"I'd say frustrated." Cas said, dropping their hands, standing up, and coming to sit on the edge of Dean's bed so they were even closer. "Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine you yelling that at me." Cas sighed and bumped shoulders with Dean, smiling shyly.
"Yeah, not my best moment." Dean admitted, very aware of how Cas' body was pressed up against his in the bed they were now sharing.
"Not your worst either. I'd let jealousy get the worst of me." Cas admitted.
Dean let the memory draw him in, their old group had set up camp in a set of cabin's that were once part of a campground in the Mississippi river valley. Dean had been growing closer with quite a few other camp members, trying to build up their overall strength, developing plans. Cas had been going out on supply runs with Sam, and every night it felt like they were just missing each other. But to Cas, he'd thought Dean was starting a new relationship with someone else. Which led to Cas confronting him in Dean's cabin, where Cas told him off for not being around much, and that Dean had never been a person to drop his friends for a relationship in the past. Dean for his part had been appalled, defiant even, unable to respond with anything but sarcastic remarks until the truth seemed to explode out of him.
"I'm just letting you know, that especially since everything happened I need you. Even if you might not need me around I-" Cas said, tears almost forming in his eyes which ripped through Dean's heart.
"You think I don't need you in my life anymore? Cas that's ridiculous I-" Dean interrupted Cas, but Cas rebutted smoothly.
"I think it's natural to eventually grow out of childhood relationships in search of more long term-"
"You're the only long term relationship I've ever wanted you idiot!" Dean yelled at him which had stunned Cas silent. Dean, realizing just what he'd admitted, started panicking and shook his head. "Everything I've done has either been for you or Sam. But you're not my brother, you're my best friend which is everything, okay?" But his tone was still seeped in frustrated anger. "I didn't mean to do this like this. Damn it." Dean rubbed the back of his neck, Cas was still silent which had Dean fearing the worst. Clearly Cas was appalled to learn the truth of his best friend. "I don't know what you're thinking, if you understand how much you mean to me." Dean pulled off the silver band from his finger and set it down with a thunk right in front of Cas, making his point clear. When Cas was still silent Dean snagged his jacket. "I need some space."
The flash flood had happened that night, with Dean off who knows where and separated from their group. What Dean didn't know was how Cas had reacted that night after he left. In those sparse hours before the flood had separated them for the next year.
"I'm glad you kept it." Dean said quietly because Cas was so close he knew he could hear. Cas didn't respond at first, instead he pulled himself more up onto the bed next to Dean, turning himself to face Dean better and grabbing his hand again.
"I waited for you that night. I was so shocked by what you'd said and you'd left this…" Cas trailed off holding up his hand to look at it, spinning it on his finger with pinky and middle finger. "I put it on a bit after you left, then I cried cause I felt like such a dumbass for not realizing what idiots we both were. I think I curled up on your bed and fell asleep. Woke up to Sam shouting and the foot of water in the cabin. The rest was a bit of a blur. Mainly I regretted letting you walk away. This entire past year I would sit and think about how you would still be here if I hadn't frozen." Dean let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "It is my biggest regret. Letting you walk out of that cabin without knowing how I felt." Cas sounded so beaten up about that, like the last year had actually been five long ones, and Dean could certainly relate. "It's been a year, I'd understand if you had moved on or-" Dean pulled Cas into his arms for a hug, crushing into himself and feeling Cas melt so easily.
"Twenty five years I've loved you, thinking that one year could erase that is crazy, Cas." Dean said into Castiel's ear and felt Cas squeeze onto him even more tightly as he burrowed his face into Dean's neck. When he pulled back Dean put a hand to his face, feeling the stubble and smooth skin under his fingertips, the way his own heart soared when Cas leaned into the touch. "Especially since I've spent my entire queer awakening being in love with you. You're it for me, sweetheart." Dean told him, shaking a bit at the confession and watching as tears spilled over Cas' eyes, surrounding the blue in water that broke Dean's heart a bit just remembering exactly how much he loved Cas.
Cas leaned into Dean and put their foreheads together, grabbing Dean's hand on his cheek and holding it there as his breaths came in shaky gasps. Then after a moment to regulate his breathing, Cas pulled back and looked Dean in the eyes.
"I spent a whole year thinking you might be dead and that you'd never know that I love you." Cas told him, Dean looked at him in awe as his green eyes watered over and he started crying too.
"We're a couple of saps." Dean said through a voice thick with tears, a wonderful mix of happy sadness. "I lost my fucking foot and I'm sitting here crying because you're in love with me." Cas chuckled wetly at that, reaching out to grab Dean's neck just to touch him.
"You need to get your priorities straight." Cas told him which made Dean giggle at the horrible british accent Cas used to accompany the quote.
"God, do I love you." Dean told him smiling, stroking his thumb over Cas' cheek and dispelling the tear tracks. Cas eyes were drawn downward to the small colorful things laying in the sheets.
"Our bracelets…" Cas said, a curious look on his face. Dean glanced down and smirked a bit. In some unknowable way, the two friendship bracelets had caught on each other and fallen off without either of them noticing.
"Did your wish come true?" Dean asked Cas who looked up at him with a smirk on his face, then tilted his head to the side.
"Did yours?" Cas countered, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth. Dean rolled his eyes and finally kissed him, because that was answer enough.
Turned out that some things in their lives were as easy as that. As easy as sitting in bed together, crying because you're so in love. As easy as leaning in and giving over to that pull between the two of you. As easy as free falling into the safety net of eachothers arms.
Other things were hard. Surviving in a world full of the dead. Rebuilding society. Forging new bonds and friendships. The growing pains of a new relationship. Losing people, as much as they tried to avoid it.
In a world like this, Dean often wondered if there were still beautiful things. The fingers intertwined in his answered that for him. Even as they fought back to back, slicing into a herd of bozos, there were beautiful things. So when Dean continued passing on their stories to the people of tomorrow, he would be sure not to leave them out.
A/N cont: The prompt was a bit spoilery, so I hid it down here. Thanks so much to reidluvr22 they're amazing!
Prompt: So basically it's set deep into the post-apocalypse world with walkers you know, just the spn characters. Dean and Cas were separated years earlier. Dean thinks Cas is dead and always tells stories about him to anyone he meets. Then they come across a group, have some sort of altercation and he is shocked to see Cas. Reunion ensues.
Please tell me what you guys think! I love writing for you all. (: