Hi everyone!

So, this is my first attempt on translation of one of my stories. I apologize for the mistakes I'll probably make, I'm not a native English speaker.

This OS was born just after I finished to watch Supernatural. It takes place after Carry on (15x20) I wish we saw a talk between Dean and Cass after Despair considering the confession of the angel but that didn't happen so I wrote my own.

Hope you enjoy!


TITLE: Visiting Hours

PAIRING: Destiel

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural, neither its characters or universes. They all belong to Erik Kripke and the CW. I just own this story. The title was inspired by Ed Sheeran's song Visiting Hours.

SUMMARY: Dean has often thought about Castiel's last moment. About his last words. About his smile drowned in tears before he was swallowed by the Empty. And he can't forgive himself for not responding, for letting him go. But it was too late.


Dean has often thought about Castiel's last moment. About his last words. About his smile drowned in tears before he was swallowed by the Empty. And he can't forgive himself for not responding, for letting him go. About the mark he left on his shoulder, a strange echo from this day they first met, this day the angel gripped him out of Hell, saved him although Dean didn't think he deserved it.

Since he was in Heaven, his best friend's confession never stopped playing in front of his eyes. He was seeing it over and over again like Castiel, wherever he was, never left him, not anymore.

Dean didn't have a chance to respond to Castiel's confession. All went too fast, so fast, he didn't quite understand what the angel just said. Even today, he can't believe what he heard. He can't understand these words he knew by heart although he heard them only once.

Dean can't forgive himself. He can't forgive his lack of response. That surely was why he didn't want to think about, really think about Castiel's last minutes. Because he was scared of what he might find out. Dive deep in his thoughts, his feelings terrified him. He was afraid of what he'll discover, afraid of his guilt which didn't leave him anymore, the culpability of haven't try to free Cass from the Empty. But how could he have done it? He wasn't sure Jack himself could open a breach for him, in order to raise Cass from perdition.

Who said Heaven was just resting? It seems that, even dead, the Hunter was condemned to be tormented.

Dean parked the Impala next to the bridge and got off the car. The said bridge passed over a wide stream circled by high and green trees. He didn't know why he loves this place so hard. But there was not a single day he didn't come here, mostly alone, sometimes with John, Mary or Bobby.

He leaned against the handrail of the bridge watched the water spin, like his thoughts. And like it, they threw themselves in a single strait.

Castiel.

Dean couldn't go on like this. He couldn't ignore forever these words, these images that never stop to come to him. No matter how scared he was. Scared of his culpability.

Dean sighted.

– Come on, Dean. Back up, he muttered for himself but it did not help.

He closed his eyes. He didn't need to focus because the images went to him effortlessly. They were already there, under his lids, waiting only for this moment he had the courage to face what always failed him. Feelings.

Castiel was there, in front of him with a solution to wipe off Billie. To same him. Dean still was asking himself how he couldn't have heard of this stupid deal. How could Jack have hidden it from them? Probably because Cass asked for it.

The Hunter smiled. Yeah, that looked a lot like Cass.

" I always wondered, ever since I took that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be, what my true happiness could even look like. I never found the answer. Because the only thing I want… it's a thing I know I can't have."

Dean felt like his heart was squeezing. When did Castiel start to believe he wasn't important, loved? When did he start to believe that he meant no more to Dean? In a terrible moment of horror, the Hunter asked himself if Cass ever believed he mattered. Did he – ever once – showed him how much he counted?

The culpability slowly took his heart in its claws, touched it gently. Dean squeezed his hand.

How many times did Dean blame Cass for what happened to them? How many times the angel took responsibility for their failures because of Dean?

" Something went wrong. You know that, something always goes wrong."

"And why this thing always seems to be you?"

Dean will never forget how the angel looked at him this day. With despair. He will never forget the pain, the tears that Cass tried to hold, to hide, after these words, these terrible words went out, after his anger, like always, went out, after, another time, one time too many, Dean blamed Cass.

It was, so it seemed, the only thing he was capable of. He only knew how to condemn him. He never reconned how much the angel did for him, starting with Castiel pulling him out of Hell. Even there, he blamed him because he didn't think he deserved to be saved. Cass always knew how to read in him.

" You can barely watch me."

Why did his anger and sadness take the advantage, why did he let them take the advantage?

" My powers are weak and I tried over and over to talk to you but you won't listen. You don't care. I'm… dead to you."

He hadn't stopped him. He hadn't told him he counted. He hadn't held him back, hadn't denied, hadn't even tried to take back his words that overpassed his thought. He couldn't see how much Cass was hurt, how much his trust was one of the things the angel cared the most about. He couldn't see how much he broke him.

Dean squeezed his hand harder. It was like the claws of his culpability shut themselves harder on his heart.

He remembered only one time he let his feelings, his heart talk. It was that day back in Purgatory where he prayed for Cass, Cass he thought he had lost forever.

" Cass? I hope you can hear me… that wherever you are it's not too late. I should have stopped you. You're my best friend and I just let you go. Because it was easier than admitting I was wrong. I… I don't know why I get so angry; I just know… I know it has always been there and when things go wrong… it goes out. And I can't stop it. No matter… no matter how much I want it, I just can't stop it. And… and I forgive you, of course I forgive you. I'm sorry it took me so long to say it. I'm sorry it took this to happen. Cass… I'm sorry."

Dean chased a tear that was falling over his cheek with rage. But his thoughts didn't want to stop.

" Man, I hope you can hear me. I hope you can hear me."

He never reconsidered these words he said, what they meant, what he was trying to tell, what was too hard to tell for him. He never reconsidered his bloody feelings he can't show because of his fucking proud which didn't make a bloody sense. He never reconsidered these words he will never say.

These words he nearly said. But Cass didn't let him, because Cass was too freaking kind to let him being vulnerable.

"I heard your prier."

Dean still asked himself what he could've say if Castiel haven't been Castiel. If he let him.

– Oh Cass…

He put a weary hand in his hair. He knew it wouldn't be easy. He just hoped his heart would be in one piece when he'd finished. Cass' face appeared in front of his shut eyes; this face that seemed to be incredibly happy in its last moment. It practically shone of an incredible joy that Dean didn't understand. That he still doesn't understand. Because Cass was right.

" I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive, angry and broken. You're… You're "Daddy's Blunt Instrument". And you think that hate and anger, that's what drives you. It's not. And everyone who knows sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love."

How Castiel could have seen anything else than anger in Dean? How could he saw even an inch of love in his acts? Everything Dean ever did was led by anger, he convinced himself of it. Everything, everything, from the beginning. Finding Azazel was only a revengeful quest. How Castiel could have seen that kind of noble feeling in him when Dean just hated himself, hated that man he was, a man who let his urges guide him?

Wasn't he worthy of the Mark of Cain after all? He was a killer, like him. A born killer. Wasn't he ready to kill his own brother to come to his end? Wasn't he ready to reproduce the story as Chuck wanted it to be? Blood killing blood. How could Cass ever imagine Dean has an inch of good in him?

The culpability was shredding his heart right know. Like eagle's claws, they were going deep in the skin already raw. It was painful, so painful but Dean could not complain. He deserved that burden.

Because he could not understand how someone could have such faith in him meanwhile he just hated himself.

"That is who you are. You are the most caring man on Earth. You're the most selfless, loving human being that I will ever know."

That Dean Cass had been describing, he didn't know him. He wasn't real. That Dean was only a daydream of the angel who had idealized him. The angel who had too much faith in him. The angel who always had faith in him.

"You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of Hell, knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam. I cared about Jack. I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me, Dean."

How that Dean, that broken Dean, that violent, angry, lost Dean, that man who wasn't capable of controlling himself could have changed an angel loyal to Heaven, blind to its flaws, in this righteous, good being? Dean couldn't – and still can't – understand that. That was probably why he hadn't response. Why he hadn't even reacted, why he didn't know how to react to that.

Because he didn't deserve those words. That fondness.

He still can see Cass' teary eyes, his very blue gaze which was even more blue when he confessed. He still can see himself, his heart beating so damn fast, asking Cass why does it sound like a goodbye. He still can see the angel, his lips forming that sentence he never believed he will hear in his whole life. Because Castiel said he will always be there.

"Because it is. I love you."

He couldn't even think about a response. He couldn't even understand what these three worlds were saying, what they were implying. The Empty came and took Castiel, it didn't let him the time to realize. Before Dean could move again, could understand what was happening, Cass took him by the shoulder and pulled him away. He let a mark.

At the same place he touched him the first time, when he pulled him out of Hell. Without noticing it, Dean put his hand on his left shoulder, feeling the mark under his shirt. What wouldn't he give to feel the angel's hand again…?

Another tear rolled down his cheek. There he was. He finally faces what he feared the most. His own feelings. He could not deny it this time. Did it really take Castiel to confess for him to understand? All those times he lost him weren't enough? All those heartbreaks, all those splits, not even a single one made him open his freaking eyes.

His whole life, Dean threw himself in unimportant stories, the ones that don't last. The ones for a single night. He engaged only once, with Lisa and it ended bad. He always thought that his life don't allow him to pose. Because he could leave at any moment – and that could be forever – and that insecurity wasn't good for a domestic life. Dean was convinced that no Hunter live happily ever after.

Especially him. No matter how hard he wanted to forget what was outside, he simply can't. He can't leave all of these people to the monsters. Maybe he desperately wants to be the hero but things were like that. He just can't. Sometimes, he envied Sam who managed to stop Hunting, several times.

But above this, Dean can't imagine himself living with someone he had to lie about everything from the beginning. How could he talk about his Hunter's life, the monsters and all these awful thing he saw to someone who had the chance of not knowing? Therefore Dean felt like that person won't understand him.

So yes, he was scared of engaging. He didn't want to engage. He preferred stories ending in the morning after a rough night when he left without a word a girl he met in a bar.

This enormous fear led him to blind himself. Dean never saw what was already in front of him, what he could reach but did not, what many others saw.

Those fans of Chuck's books.

Those high school girls who did a musical about their life. Strangely, Dean suddenly remembered the lyrics of a song, from Cass' point of view. He didn't know he remembered that.

I'll just wait here then

Wait for my cue

I raised you from perdition,

To be God's ammunition

But now you need some rest

So I will do what's best

And just wait here then

That's all I'll do

I'll just wait here then

I'll wait for you

He never noticed Castiel was waiting for him. They did. From how long did he kept that feeling inside? From how long did Dean lie to himself?

Even Sam seemed to notice. But Dean ignored his looks, his smiles when Dean and Cass were together. He ignored them like he ignored everything else, like he ignored his own heart who was screaming him the truth. Now it was too late.

Now, the culpability was destroying Dean's heart. God, it hurts so much to realize what he could have had.

Dean chased another tear with rage but it was useless. A living stream was running on his cheeks. He put his face in his hand, trying to calm his sobs but that didn't work either.

– Cass… I miss you so much… so, so much… I'm sorry… I'm sorry for making you suffer… Cass…

His voice broke. But what was the point of apologizing? Cass won't hear him. He will never hear him.

There was something that sound familiar in Dean's back. Like feathers. But it was Dean's imagination, right? He wanted so much to hear it again… but Castiel lost his wings years ago.

– Hello Dean.

He couldn't help himself. He jumped back. He knew all he'll see will be that beautiful landscape around him. He was going nuts…

If Dean didn't know he was dead, he could have believed that his heart stopped. He was there. His messy dark hair, his eternal beige trench coat, over a white shirt and the blue unmade tie. It was there, this blue, so blue gaze Dean longed for, watching him from a few meters.

Dean turned on automatic mode. His legs moved without his consent and, just like that, his arms were wrapped around Castiel and squeezed him so tight he could just choke him. For a while, the angel seemed to be lost by the desperate hug but he eventually ended up giving it back. Dean buried his face in Castiel's neck, inhaling his smell. He didn't know he missed that too.

He kept the angel against himself, enjoying the irrealist feel of his body against his, until Dean thought it has been too much time to be natural. But, son of a bitch, just how much he would have keep him that close!

He looked at Cass' face instead, searched his eyes and, when he met them, he just never lost the contact.

– Cass…

He can't believe it. Not really. He would have wanted to touch him, just to be sure it wasn't a horrible joke from his own sick mind. Castiel's face seemed blurred under his tears but he could see him smile. A hand took his, gently.

– I'm here, Dean. I'm really here.

And just like that, Dean exploded. He didn't really know where he was, lost in this astronomic amount of feelings, but he only knew one thing. He was back in Cass' arms, crying on his shoulder. He knew Cass was there and he was waiting.

Dean doesn't know what he said during that moment of weakness. He just remembered a few "sorry" he was saying over and over again, but it was all. Everything was too confused in his mind.

Feeling Cass here managed to calm him down and Dean stepped a bit away from him, wiped his eyes without looking at him. He knew the angel never saw him that weak.

– You don't have to hide from me, Dean. You know that, right?

Dean raised his head and looked at him, a little bit shy.

– I can't believe you're really here.

Castiel smiled. Dean had never noticed how much this smile was beautiful. His heart stirred in his chest. Suddenly, everything was palpable, possible. Cass was here, in front of him and he had another chance, a chance to repair everything, or at last, he had a chance to save what can be saved.

– Cass, I…

– You don't have to apologize, Cass cut him but Dean shook his head.

– I have to. For so many reasons… Cass… son of a bitch, you ended up thinking you weren't important! That you mean nothing, that your life doesn't count and it's my fault. All of this… it's all my fault.

– Dean.

– No, Cass. Stop it. Stop that. I should have been here for you. I should… I should have show you that you do count. I should have tried to bring you back from the Empty. I shouldn't have let you sacrifice yourself for me.

– It was my choice, Dean. Jack needed you. So did Sam.

– And I needed you, Cass.

And Dean cursed his voice for break that easy, he cursed his vulnerability. But in the meantime, he was glad he broke in front of Castiel. He was the only one he will let see him like that. That weak. Cass had opened his eyes wide, like he was surprised. And he tilted his head like he'd always did when he was confused. Dean just thought it was adorable.

And he asked himself how he could have been that blind.

– I'm sorry, Cass whispered without looking at him.

– You don't have to.

Their gazes met again and Dean smiled. He could have told him, right now. He could have lighten his burden, just for a moment. He could have made Cass happy just with those three little words. Three little words that meant so much. Three little words he struggled to say because they were describing something he couldn't see for a long, long time. He could have… but it was like since his lips opened, his throat knotted and all his courage left him.

What if everything was Chuck's work? What if Castiel, now that God was gone, didn't feel anymore, didn't feel at all what he told him with that intensity, back in the bunker, back on this terrible day? What if Dean was too late, what if he understood too lately?

– Dean?

– I'm just glad to see you again.

He acted like the coward he'd always been. Like he didn't pay enough. Dean looked away, trying to find something to do instead of facing Cass' blue – amazingly blue – eyes. He saw the Impala and then, turned back on the angel.

– You want a ride? I want to show you something.

Castiel nodded and didn't wait for Dean to invite him to climb on the passenger seat. Dean sat behind the wheel and started the engine.

They didn't say a thing during the ride while classic rocks were playing on the radio. Finally, Dean parked the Chevrolet near some trees and invited Castiel to follow him.

Still silent, they walked on a little path in the pine woods. Then, they reached the place Dean was looking for. It was in the center of a meadow. There was a lake, a huge lake with turquoise water that almost looked supernatural. Behind the trees, they can see big mountains, covered in snow at the top. The grass was the greener Dean has ever seen and the sun, bright in that cloudless sky was dropping a misty light on the meadow.

– That's… that's beautiful, Dean.

Dean smiled. Yes, it was. He turned his head towards Castiel. The sunlight reflected in his dark hair. He had reached his face towards it to enjoy better the sweet touch of its warmth. Dean's heart missed a beat.

Finally, Cass looked at him. Dean looked away, his cheeks turning bright red. It was ridiculous! He had never blushed like that.

To hide his embarrassment, Dean laid in the grass. Cass imitated him. The silence settled for a while. Dean felt like the subject they didn't want to talk about had sneaked between them. Dean couldn't find the courage to raise the issue.

– So… how did you get out? Of the Empty? Dean said instead.

– Jack brought me back. Me and a lot of angels. He promised the Empty he'll make it sleep again if it let him bring angels back. Unfortunately, Jack couldn't get everyone out, to maintain the balance. And he had to free some demons too.

– I guess Rowena won't let them do their shit again.

– I guess she won't.

They smiled to each other. With that witch in charge down there, they have very little to worry about.

– Jack gave us our wings back. And he's trying to build more angels.

Dean nodded.

– I heard you've helped for… all of this.

He pointed their environment with a wide move of his hand.

– Jack and I thought it wasn't good to be locked in oneself memories no matter how good they are.

He paused.

– It took a lot of energy but we managed to break every single door in Heaven. From that moment, the souls got out and found their loved ones. I think your parents were the first ones.

It was another silence. Then Cass frowned before he looked at him, upset.

– Now you tell me how you managed to die two weeks after you defeated Chuck.

Dean didn't expect that. Cass looked revolted, angry and disappointed at the same time. Dean tought he would be even more angry when he learned how he died.

– Sam and I were on a vampires' nest. The fight didn't go well…

– They…

– Impaled me.

Castiel stayed quiet for a while, trying to process what Dean had just said. Yeah, he knew. He'd probably had reacted the same way if he was told he died so stupidly.

– You are saying that Dean Winchester, the Dean Winchester who stopped two Apocalypses, died…

– Like a freaking idiot, yeah.

Another time, Cass seemed to be teared between two very different feelings. He shook his head. Their gazes met again and it was like seriousness came back between them. Dean felt the closeness of his hand with Cass' in the grass, separated by a few inches. He wanted so hard to take it and squeezed it but he had to restrain himself.

– Cass, I…

Son of a bitch! He found the courage to tell God to fuck off but he can't confess his freaking feelings to his best friend?

Cass's too wide, too blue freaking eyes were fixed on him. He was waiting for him to finish his sentence. But Dean wasn't great with words. He never was. Of course, sometimes, when things forced him, when the end seemed to be near, he found the right way to say how he felt, like that time at Purgatory or when he said goodbye to Sammy. But those times, he was guided by despair. Guided by the belief it was the end. Dean couldn't be that honest, that deep when he wasn't in the urge. But will he have another chance to say it? Cass didn't say why he visited him. He didn't say if he'll come back.

But Dean needed to know. He straightened up.

– Cass… everything you said… you meant it?

The angel watched him for a second and then, he frowned.

– I… I'm not sure to know what you are talking about.

– You know exactly what I'm talking about.

They didn't say a thing. Dean couldn't look at Cass. He felt like he won't bear it if Cass just confirms what he feared the most. He didn't want to see it in the angel's eyes. Therefore, he waited, his eyes almost closed.

– Yes. Of course I meant it, Dean.

He said that in such a low voice Dean wasn't sure he'd actually said it. But he shivered at the sound of Cass' voice. He opened his eyes and directly looked at the angel.

That thing in his eyes couldn't be misunderstood. Cass looked at him exactly the same way he looked at him when he gave himself to the Empty. Dean got paralyzed. He desperately wanted to say something, to do something because he didn't want to miss his chance, he couldn't miss his chance. But this intensity in Cass' eyes, the intensity of his feelings terrified him.

Because Dean can't feel worthy of them.

– You don't have to respond. I don't expect anything. And it doesn't matter.

But Cass looked away after he said that. Dean can't help himself this time. He took Castiel's hand. The angel gave him a confused look. But the Hunter didn't let go of his hand. He just twisted their fingers and smiled to Cass.

– You really have to stop thinking you don't matter, Cass.

– I don't understand, D…

But he couldn't finish his sentence. Dean had pressed his lips against his. For a moment, Cass didn't react but then, when he had pulled himself together, Cass deepened the kiss, his free hand finding his way to Dean's cheek like it had always been his place. It lost itself in the light brown hair.

Cass' lips tasted like Heaven. Like home. Dean would have kissed him again if he hadn't have to breath. His forehead met Cass'.

– I don't know how to make you understand that, he whispered.

Cass' fingers still were on his cheek. The angel dived in his gaze and from that close, Dean could see every nuance in the blue eyes. They were astonished.

– Dean…

– I'm an idiot, Cass. I… All of this… us… it was there for so long and I was too stupid, to stubborn, to proud to see it. I wasted so much time. I hurt you so much and for so long because I couldn't see the truth. Because I couldn't admit you were the most important person in my entire life. I'm so sorry, Cass…

The angel's fingers gently touched his skin. It only was when Castiel's thumb sneaked under his eyes Dean noticed he was crying.

– I love you, Cass.

He said it. And it was like this heavy thing disappeared of his shoulders, flew through the sky, like a bubble exploded in his soul and spread a huge relief and a happiness Dean could not describe.

He felt like he was on fire when Cass kissed him again. He was shy. But Dean didn't let him hesitate anymore and threw himself in that kiss. His fingers found their way to Castiel's neck. He let himself against Cass' body without stopping to kiss him. When their mouths broke apart, they were laid against each other in the grass and it felt like it had always been their place.

– It's quite… unexpected, said Cass and Dean, whose head was resting against Castiel's throat, felt the vibrato of his vocal cords.

– It took me a bit of time to realize it.

– Just a bit?

– Okay. A lot of time.

He didn't have to look at him to see Cass smiling. He felt it.

– I wonder if Jack knew this would happen.

Dean raised his head and twisted his neck to look at the angel.

– What do you mean?

– He said I should come to see you. He also adds that I didn't have anything better to do.

Dean smiled. But it disappeared quite quickly, replaced by a serious face. Jack was right.

– You know, if you hadn't come to me, I think I would have never been at peace. I wouldn't have been happy. Not really.

Cass squeezed his hand.

– I wouldn't have either.

Dean laid again against Castiel. He felt whole. He didn't recall a time he had ever felt like that. And he won't have bet on Cass to make him feel like that. But then again, thinking about it, he realized it wasn't quite true.

Because it always has been Cass.

Dean looked at him. When the angel noticed it, he frowned.

– Dean? You okay?

– Yes. God yes, it couldn't be any better, Cass.

And to prove it, he sealed their lips in a tender kiss.


Hope you enjoyed it and sorry again for the mistakes I could have leave there!

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