Author's Notes: Spoilers for the series finale! This story takes place long after Sam and Dean meet up in Heaven. They've already reunited with everyone else, including Jack and Castiel. FYI I write Dean and Cass as close brothers, but please feel free to interpret their relationship any way you want.
Story Summary: Souls in Heaven are disappearing. Can Dean, Castiel, and Sam solve the mystery before they lose everyone they love?
Chapter Summary: Castiel rushes to Dean for help after he gets injured training angels.
Heaven is Boring
PenPatronus
Chapter #1
Paradise Is Overrated
Dean Winchester smiled at the summer sunshine twinkling on the lake water. Dragonflies flitted between lily pads, frogs croaked, and thirty yards away on the edge of the woods, three deer were silently grazing. Dean sat on a green cooler at the end of a wooden dock. He held his fishing pole in one hand and a cold beer in the other. The pristine black Impala sat behind him in the grass. Sam was home with Eileen, Bobby and Rufus were playing chess, and Dean was joining his parents that night for dinner. "That night" could come as soon as he wanted, or wait as long as he wanted. The second he wanted to catch a fish, one pulled on his line. The sun would shine until he told it not to.
Paradise.
"God, I'm BORED!" Dean shouted, his voice scaring away a flock of white swans. His eyes were on them – on the sky – when a figure in a trench coat suddenly fell from it, bellyflopped into the water twenty yards in front of Dean, and sank.
"CASS!" Dean leapt to his feet. He dropped his fishing pole and kicked over his beer. The pole rolled off the dock and into the water. A second later it reappeared on the dock, unharmed, beside a fresh bottle. Heaven always kept Dean Winchester stocked up on cold beer. Dean shaded his eyes and stared at the spot where his best friend disappeared. "Cass?" The rippling water went still. "Hey," Dean said to it, "hey, now – wait – are you real? Like, really, real? Is he – is he drowning? Can he drown?" Dean counted to three, shouted "son of a bitch!" and dove into the cool lake water with his boots on. Dean emerged a moment later holding Castiel tight against his body – the angel's back against his chest. He rotated in the water so that he was on his back, and started kicking for shore. Cass didn't stir.
When his feet could touch the slimy bottom of the lake, Dean stood up and walked backwards, guiding Cass' body as he went. Once they were safely in muddy grass, Dean knelt beside Cass, confirmed he was breathing, and shook him by his still shoulders. "Cass – CASS! Wake up, buddy!" Silver light caught his eye. Dean looked down to see a glowing and bloody wound across the angel's lower stomach, slashing his bellybutton in half.
"Dammit," Dean cursed. He looked up at the empty sky (ceiling? He wondered) and shouted, "Jack? Jack! Help! Cass is hurt!" Nothing answered. Jack would hurry to Cass, Dean had no doubt, if he were in hearing range. The kid was probably off repairing another parallel universe that Chuck had deleted. It had been months since Dean had seen him – or had it just been minutes? …A year?
Dean shook his head and returned his attention to Cass. The angel's skin was pale, making the half-moons under the eyes of his semi-cleanshaven face stand out. Blood leaked from his wound and dripped down his button-down shirt and soaked through his trench coat into the grass. "Dammit, Cass, how do I help you?" Dean wondered out loud. He looked at the sky-ceiling again, and wished them both home. When no magical escalator appeared to whisk them away to Heaven's version of the bunker back in Kansas, Dean cursed yet again. The Impala was close by – he just had to get the angel into it. Dean gently folded Cass' legs at the knees, and slid one arm under there and the other underneath the angel's lower back. Grunting, Dean managed to lift his friend up into a bridal carry. He succeeded in opening a rear door to the car, and gently laid Cass' body across the back. "Don't you bleed on my seat!" Dean warned his unconscious friend.
It took an hour (a month?) for Dean to drive that beautiful scenic route from the bunker to the lake. It took a minute (a second?) to drive back. A year passed while he carried Cass from the car to his bedroom in the bunker – at least that was what it felt like, Dean said out loud, "having to carry your heavy angel ass." But eventually – perhaps in microseconds – he got Cass into the bed. Dean then ran to the nearest bathroom and got a first aid kit. When he returned, he found Cass awake.
"Dean?" the angel grunted, looking out through half-open eyelids.
"Cass!" Dean sighed with relief. "Buddy, you scared me!"
Dean put the first aid kit on the bedside table and started rummaging through it for bandages. When he found some, he pulled a chair over to the side of the bed and, without bothering to ask for permission, unbuttoned Cass' shirt, rolled it up to his chest, and started cleaning the glowing wound across his stomach.
The angel's nose crinkled. "Why do I smell moss and trout urine?"
"We went for a swim," Dean chuckled, "and that's what you call authenticity." While he applied gauze, Dean asked, "What the hell happened to you, Cass?"
"I was wounded," Castiel deadpanned.
"No kidding. Who hurt you? Huh? Who do I have to beat the crap out of?" Dean made a fist and punched his opposite palm.
"I wasn't in battle, Dean. Hell, Heaven, and Earth are remarkably peaceful right now. No, I was training the new angels."
"New angels?"
Cass nodded. He reached down to rebutton his shirt, but Dean shooed his hands away and did it for him. "Jack created more angels," Castiel explained. "With this new legion, and all of my brothers and sisters Jack resurrected from The Empty, we number in the hundreds of thousands now."
Dean whistled. "Big family." He frowned. "Um, Jack let EVERY angel go from The Empty…?"
Cass gave him a half smile. "There are… trials going on. Each is being judged based on their loyalty and their actions and a fair court is deciding their fate. Several have been banished back to their slumber – names you and I both know well."
"Good." Dean snorted. "So, you were playing with your angel swords, and you got nicked."
"More than a nick," Cass said, defensively. "Bad enough that I couldn't heal it. And I'm an archangel, now."
"Cass, I'm just pushing your buttons, man." Dean packed up the first aid kit and set it aside. "And, what, your angel garrison doesn't have a M*A*S*H unit? You couldn't get one of them to heal you right when it happened?"
Cass stared at the ceiling. "I was… Embarrassed."
"Embarrassed?"
"A day-old angel wounded me while I was training her. I… I didn't want the others to see that I was hurt. So, I just – I just thought of you, thought you might help me, and my wings took me."
"Thought I MIGHT help you?" Dean scoffed. "Yeah, because if you turned up dying I'd just let you. Have you met me?"
Cass looked fondly at his friend. "I was clumsy. And I couldn't bear the thought of the garrison seeing me as weak."
"Cass, Jack left you in charge of Heaven. No one here – human or angel – would ever think you are weak."
Castiel blushed a shade and smiled with one tiny corner of his mouth. "I appreciate your kind words, Dean." Cass tried to sit up in the bed, tried to swing his legs off it, but Dean pushed his ankles back down with both hands.
"You're hurt, Cass. Relax, will you?"
"I need to get back to training."
"Training, yeah…" Dean rubbed his chin. "Listen, uh, you need some help with this training? Maybe I could teach those angels a thing or two. You know…" Dean mimed a few kicks and punches. "Show them how it's done?"
Cass cocked his head to the side. "You're supposed to be fishing, my friend, not fighting."
Dean nodded. "Right."
"You're at peace, Dean. I'd think the last thing you'd want to do is pick up a sword."
"Yeah…" Dean stood, turned his back, and walked over to the open closet. Inside hung his favorite clothes and sat his favorite shoes. Every torn flannel was intact and there wasn't a single drop of mud caked to his boots. They were perfect. Everything was perfect. "Cass, can I ask you something?"
The angel had settled back into the bed, lying on his side with his head on the pillow. "You know you can ask me anything, Dean."
Dean returned to the bed and sat down in the chair beside it. "Do you ever get… bored?"
Castiel frowned. "Bored?"
"Yeah, you know – nothing exciting going on, no action – bored."
Cass shrugged. "My life has been one astounding event after another. I've barely sat still. I'm not sure what boredom feels like." He looked at his friend. "Are you bored, Dean?"
"Bored. To. Tears," Dean replied. "Bored to death, Cass. I feel… I feel it – the peace – paradise is peaceful. I love going for drives, love listening to music, going fishing and eating all the pie I want… But, there's something in me, Cass… Something that's, I don't know, unsatisfied, I guess." Dean suddenly snorted hard and stared down at the floor. "Oh, man, even in Heaven I'm… Broken."
Cass immediately sat up and gripped Dean's shoulder. "You are not broken," he said with force behind his words. "And I'd be honored if you'd join me in training. You're a bit of a legend to the angels, you know."
Dean nodded. "Thanks, Cass."
A ring suddenly erupted from Dean's jeans pocket. He took out a spotless cell phone and answered it, "Hey, Sammy! What's shaking in your little corner of paradise today?"
"Dean!" Sam's anxious voice answered. "I can't find Eileen!"
"What?"
"I've looked everywhere – the whole community – talked to everyone either of us knows, been to every place she's ever been… Dude, she's gone!"
To Be Continued