A/N: I am so proud of this. I loved writing it, and I can't wait to write more.
Here's how the road continues for me.
Sam looked around and shook his head. The rushing river, idyllic forestry, cerulean blue skies. Dean's arm around his back, covering him, warm. Sam wanted another hug but he refrained. He wracked through his memories for the scenic vista instead. The air was clean, crisp. Pines, maples, oaks in the treeline. The river rushed beneath them. Dean ruffled his hair at the nape of his neck. Sam's eyes watered with deep, bittersweet longing.
"I don't even remember this."
Dean's hand paused.
"Hm?"
"It's been so long," Sam muttered. A tear slipped down his cheek.
"Sammy?" Dean was concerned now. He pulled away and Sam slumped, wanting him back but knowing it was an illusion. Reliving a memory he couldn't even recall.
"I remember my shoes," Sam said distantly, staring down at the pair of shoes he hadn't worn since he was twenty-four. Puma sneakers. "I lost one of them." He wiggled his toes.
"Sam, no. Hey," Dean grasped Sam's face and turned him. He searched Sam's eyes with his own. "It's really me, Sammy. Jack changed heaven, restructured it so we're not reliving our memories anymore, so everybody's souls can interact now. This," Dean gestured around, "all this is new for both of us."
"Isn't that exactly what heaven would have you say?"
Dean made a face. "No, Sam. I'm engaging with you right now, right here. I'm not on a script like that stupid Thanksgiving thing, remember? Remember how it was? And... and if heaven were still playing your greatest hits from life it wouldn't give you a place you don't even remember."
Sam swallowed, troubled. Still not sure.
"Sam, look around," Dean ordered. Sam eyed the landscape warily. "We have never, ever, been here."
Sam took in their surroundings again. Dean watched it sink in, watched some tense hope simmering inside him.
"Really?" Sam said finally, turning back to his brother, eyes wide and intense. "It's really you?" His voice shook, lips curled trying to hold back his emotions.
Dean brushed his brother's hair back. "Yeah, Sammy. I promise."
Sam felt himself breaking. "Okay," he breathed with a nod and Dean pulled him in again. Sam folded in and this time, this time he savored it.
It'd been nearly fifty years since he'd been hugged like this, like he was the vulnerable one, the one to be protected.
It'd been fifty years since he'd been a little brother.
As if Dean were reading his mind, he nudged Sam's ear with his nose and asked, "How long, Sammy?"
Sam shook his head and sniffed. He needed more time to just take everything in.
Dean nodded and sighed, rubbed his back, tacit gestures of patience. Sam could take his time. Sam soaked up the feeling he'd always had with Dean and only Dean. Everything was going to be okay. Nothing bad was going to happen to him.
"I was 88."
Dean let out a small gasp of surprise, his head ticking back just a fraction before he pulled Sam against him tighter. "It was just a short drive in Baby for me," he whispered.
Sam thought lucky .
"Chugging viagra?"
Sam huffed a laugh through tears.
"I had a baby, raised a son. His name was Dean. Dee." Dean stroked the back of Sam's head. Sam trembled, gripped fistfuls of Dean's jacket. "You should've been there," Sam breathed. "It wasn't fair. I really... I really needed you," he confessed. It had no edge. It was grief.
"Sammy..."
"I wish you'd been there," Sam cried.
"He will be," a voice intoned... right next to them. Both brothers jumped in each other's arms, shouting in surprise for a split second before Dean's strangled, hopeful voice surfaced.
"Cas?"
The angel's serene expression slid to a kind, open smile. Dean switched from Sam and roped Castiel in with his arm, clutched the angel close.
"Cas," Dean choked out. Sam enveloped them both, left his head resting against the back of Dean's as he listened to his brother. "Cas, I love you too, okay? I didn't... There wasn't time-"
"I know. It's okay, Dean," but Cas wasn't letting go and Sam knew the angel needed this. Sam rubbed Castiel's back and he melted further into Dean's embrace.
"I've gotchya, Cas. We gotchya," Dean whispered.
They got tacos from a food truck in a parking lot to a small public beach on a lake. Best damn tacos Dean had ever eaten and the logic was there for why: anyone whose chosen heaven was making tacos in a food truck at the beach had to have been making some great fucking food. It was dusk, everybody in their bathing suit cover-ups laughing and talking as they started to light the firepits that were evenly spaced around the beach. Every once in awhile Dean caught whiffs of marijuana on the breeze. Pot in heaven , Dean mused. Jack did good.
For his part, Dean was finishing up the last bites leaning against baby's hood. Sam was a warm line along his side to the right, Castiel on his left. They'd settled against him like that on their own. The last rays of the sun were just dipping below the horizon of the lake, leaving them in a pastel-hued twilight. This is the heaven you deserve, Dean . Dean swallowed the lump in his throat
"Who will you go see first?" Castiel asked the question, brought Dean out of his reverie. Dean looked at Cas, and Cas's smile was warm, kind, and like he knew what Dean had been thinking and approved.
Dean felt the slightest movement around his waist. Sam had subtly gripped the edge of Dean's shirt tighter.
Yes, Sam thought, he did very much want to see others but he was still processing having Dean. They couldn't separate to see the others. Not just yet. Right?
"I don't know. What do you think, Sammy? We go see Mom and Dad first?"
Relief flooded him. Sam nodded and tried to play it off but Dean looked at him like he knew. Sam wouldn't dwell on it. So sue him if he'd developed abandonment issues; his entire immediate family had the habit of dying multiple times over and then permanently for the rest of his life before he turned forty.
"Yeah," Sam replied, a little too cheery but then he thought about it. "Bobby. Charlie…" Sam trailed off then gasped as a thought came to him. "Jess," he whispered.
Dean's eyes widened and he nodded. Yeah, they could go see Jess now. Sam had been shopping for rings when she'd died. She'd died in love with him.
Another thought occurred to him though. "Um… what about your wife though?" Dean asked.
"What? Oh," Sam stumbled. "Well... we divorced not long after Dee was born. Sally."
Dean stared at him intently, Cas did the same with a comical lean forward. "You two were Sam and Sally?" Cas intoned dryly. Dean broke into silent laughter, body shaking with mirth.
Sam rolled his eyes and nodded. "Shut up," Sam chuckled, nudging Dean. Dean put his palm up, apologetic.
"Okay, okay. So what happened?"
Sam sighed. "I couldn't be what she wanted."
Cas nodded and let it go, leaned back. Dean's eyes drilled into him. Sam flushed a little. "Look, you can't go through the things we went through and be Hallmark material, Dean."
Dean wanted to make a face but suppressed it. He wanted to criticize choosing someone who wanted Hallmark material to begin with. Hadn't he been dating Eileen? What'd happened there? But he saw the pain behind Sam's eyes and he knew there was probably a lot Sam wasn't telling. Especially because Sam had been pretty broken up when they'd first met on the bridge saying he'd really needed him while he'd been alive down there instead of just happy to see him like Dean would've thought. And sure, Dean knew Sam had been lying when he told him he could 'go now' back in that barn, skewered by a rusty rebar pipe but still, damn.
So, Sam was onioning. In deference, Dean held off on trying to peel any more layers just yet. "I'm sorry," Dean just said. Simple, sincere. Sam combed his fingers through his hair and shrugged.
Dean circled back in thought to when Sam had said he wished Dean had been there. Cas had appeared. Dean remembered Cas had said something jarring, something weird.
"'He will'," Dean muttered. He looked at Cas. Cas raised an eyebrow. "You said 'he will' when Sam told me he wished I'd been there during his life."
"What?" Sam murmured, confused. Apparently he hadn't heard. He leaned forward to look at Cas past Dean.
Castiel opened his mouth like he was about to speak, then huffed a sigh. "I have an assignment."
The brothers stared at him.
"I could use your help."
"Please don't tell me Jack's gone and he hasn't been back in a few days," Dean growled. Cas gave him a put-upon expression.
"That's... a lot of baggage to unpack but no, Jack is where he should be."
"Can we see him?"
"Not right now but yes, we'll come together again. When the time is right."
The brothers took a moment to thank Jack in prayer. Jack had said they didn't need to but they didn't know any better way to make a call to him. They told him they were looking forward to seeing him again. Dean promised Jack he was family.
Sam cleared his throat. "So what's your assignment?"
A little while later the moon had risen. It was so big in the sky overlooking the lake, the stars so close Sam could confuse them with the licking flames of the campfires dotting the beach, that Sam felt like he could reach out and touch the craggy, powdered surface. With all this talk about the celestial realms of souls, it wouldn't surprise him if he could. Or might be able to soon.
"So let me get this straight," Dean said. "You wanna slap your angel special sauce down on our souls," Sam cringed at Dean's phrasing, "and have us taking, what, cosmic hunts?"
"Um," Cas looked between them, apprehensive "Yeah."
"With you, right?"
Cas didn't blink, eyes lasered on Dean's. "Yes," he said softly, carefully.
Sam squinted, observing them.
Dean broke the moment. "Okay," he glanced at Sam, back to Cas. "Not gonna lie, that sounds fucking awesome."
Sam grinned, eyes alight, nodding in agreement. Castiel smiled.
"There's more to tell you about this but… go see your loved ones. I'll be back at dawn."
"Cas," Dean
Castiel spread his wings. Dean swore and Sam gasped. They'd never seen Castiel's wings before. They were massive, translucent, textured arches rising up behind him. The wings stretched unimaginably wide. Cas smirked. He closed them in one swift clutch and just like that, he was gone.
On their way to their first stop, Jessica for Sam, time trundled and stretched on curiously until finally Sam turned off the AC/DC and looked at Dean.
Dean gave him a double-take as Sam gazed at him. "What?"
"What was going on there between you and Cas?"
Dean nodded like he should've expected Sam to notice, to ask.
"When Cas died…" he trailed off. "It-it all happened in a blur. He told me he loved me."
Sam thought about it.
"You told me you loved me."
"Mhm, mhm, this was different," Dean hedged. He glanced over and saw Sam was giving him a look. "Like… love loves me."
"Oh," Sam blinked, surprised. His brows furrowed, eyes softened. "All this time?"
Dean shook his head and shrugged with one shoulder. "I don't know for how long. He just… said a buncha really nice things about me, said I'd changed him, and... that he loves me."
Sam gave his brother a genuinely sweet smile, connecting the dots. Sam had always known Dean was bi - possibly pan? Probably. - growing up. It didn't take a genius to pick up on the wide diversity of Dean's crushes at school even if it was only in his late teens that he started experimenting outside women. Dad was of course oblivious as anything. Once he mentioned a hunt where young gay boys were getting targeted and how hideous it was though and that was enough for them. Dad's concept of parenting where relationships were concerned was just to drill in the importance of safe sex and call it a day. He didn't want to know about their sex lives and in turn they'd never felt an urge to share that with him either.
Sam for his part actually took it for granted, barely aware that Dean was different. For a long time he thought people who acted like Dean were all as up-for-anything as Dean was. Sam was fourteen, Dean eighteen and very experienced by then, when an awkward conversation with a bunch of freshmen in a cafeteria made it clear there was still prejudice for even the most charming flirts like Dean.
That was one of the first days Sam had ever felt protective of his older brother.
Dean and Sam never had a real conversation about it though. They used the right pronouns for all Dean's paramours so it wasn't suppressed knowledge between them or anything like that. It was more because Sam was in his mid-twenties until he even knew how to relate to the casual one-night stands that made up Dean's sexual portfolio.
But this. Castiel. This was big for Dean. And Sam understood.
He decided he'd take the news lightly, act normal. Because across from him in the driver's seat, knuckling the steering wheel, Dean looked like the memory was still fresh; he looked like it still hurt.
"You said you loved him too back there." Sam's tone had just the slightest hint of little brother teasing but Dean picked up on it. He pursed his lips and remained silent. He wouldn't feed his troll of a little brother.
"So," Sam dragged it out, "when you gonna make your next move?"
Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sam, I swear to God-"
"It wouldn't actually be your first time with an angel," Sam gasped, "Remember? You hooked up with Anna in the backseat."
"Okay, you know what? I don't want to talk about this anymore."
Sam laughed, ever the annoying little brother.
It seemed Sam was fine with ending the discussion there too though because suddenly they were in Palo Alto.
"Oh my god," Sam whispered, looking out at the neighborhood. Dean wondered if some of this was set dressing or if there really were that many people who legitimately chose their heavens to look like Palo Alto.
They pulled up to the apartment, the one Dean had stared at for hours until nightfall that fateful night in 2005. He had been scared. Years hunting without Sam, without Dad, and yet he couldn't pull the trigger on just walking up, opening himself up to rejection from the boy he'd grown up protecting and loving so damn much.
Dean shivered the memories away and got out of the car. He leaned against the Impala, nodded encouragingly to Sam when he looked back. He watched as Sam headed toward the building. Jess opened it from the inside distractedly, keys in hand. Sam froze. She looked up.
In the blink of an eye she was grinning and running and she flung herself into Sam's arms, the two of them laughing and kissing. Dean could just see the guilt sliding off his brother, the happiness blossoming in his features as he got a good look at her. Sam remembered him though, he looked back to Dean, grinned and waved. Jessica noticed and waved too. Dean waved back, then shooed them. Sam and Jess giggled together like children, holding hands and practically skipping into their apartment building. Dean rolled his eyes and chuckled.
Dean was surprised when Sam came back after only about five minutes. When he asked Sam, his brother said he'd been in there for more like four hours.
Time works different up here.
Sam and Dean began to learn the rules, limits and geography of heaven when they got to Mom and Dad.
It was a nice idyllic suburban home set against the mild hills of Midwestern plains. Echoes of their house in Lawrence. Mom and Dad were in the front yard, John adjusting the sprinkler, Mary getting something out of the garage.
Sam and Dean kept close to each other as they walked down the driveway.
Tearful embraces. Long looks of approval, pride, affection.
Their parents didn't ask how they'd died and neither brother shared. Sam wondered if it was against etiquette. Regardless it was a good thing because for him it was still too fresh.
They caught each other up on other things instead. How Jack became the new God and changed the structure of heaven was incredible. Sam listened, eyes wide and mouth parted with fascination as Mary explained how it happened so suddenly. For her reliving a sweet memory of bath time with the boys, evaporating. Then she'd discovered as soon as she had a question about this new heaven she instantly knew the answer. Jack had downloaded all the new architecture of heaven, like a user manual, into each of heaven's existing souls. So, Mary picked herself up and went in search of her husband's real soul.
It went like that for John too.
"Why don't we know anything about anything?" Dean asked grumpily.
Mary shrugged. "The newbies get to discover it."
"Lucky us," Dean huffed. Sam slapped his stomach. Dean pulled the neck of Sam's shirt back to choke him for a half-second. Sam struggled to inhale to laugh.
"Jerk."
"Bitch."
"Boys," John warned but he was smiling, his arm around Mary's shoulders.
They got around to Sam's life, Sam's family. Dean hurt knowing he'd missed it but he listened carefully, tried to read between the lines of what Sam told them about his life because he'd been so upset on the bridge.
There was nothing for it though. Sam didn't even mention he'd divorced. He boasted about his son mostly, wistful melancholy unmistakable in his tone and Dean ached for him, wondered why Dee hadn't come by yet.
Time works different here , Bobby's voice echoed in his mind. Yeah, okay, but... "Different" wasn't enough of an explanation. Dean resolved he'd get to the bottom of this particular rule.
There was a lull in conversation. It stretched on.
What now ? The brothers wondered. How do you keep generating happiness in heaven when you're free, when you're interacting with new souls, when time feels like it exists but it doesn't work right?
That's when their parents invited them inside and blew their minds.
Mom had adopted two baby souls from the equivalent of an orphanage somewhere in heaven. Rex was about five years old and the other, Fiona, was one. Their lives had ended too early and their little souls were wrapped in soft, sated peace up in heaven until they agreed to go with Mary and John. Now they were growing up, enjoying heaven with Mary and John as parents like Sam and Dean never got to do. Likewise, how their parents never really did with them.
The brothers were happy for their parents, they were. They enjoyed the new small and curious souls and the kids loved them back, all bright wide eyes, peppering them with questions. They ate barbecue on a long picnic table in the backyard. Sam helped Rex catch fireflies. Fiona fell asleep in John's arms while they talked.
When Sam got into the passenger seat and looked over, just him and Dean again, he blew out a breath. Dean snagged his hand and squeezed.
They couldn't change the past. Their parents couldn't undo the damage they'd done to them. Demon deals and growing up in the life, Sam and Dean had survived the unfair evils that'd been sent their way courtesy of their parents.
Unlike their parents, their lives didn't feature a moment that had turned them into people they didn't ultimately want to be. And unlike John and Mary, they didn't want to take anything back from the lives they'd led; they already felt they were as true as selves could be. They wanted to keep moving forward, keep fighting, always.
The sight of the junkyard, the familiar vibrations in the unpaved ground as the Impala pulled up in a cloud of dust and spitting gravel had them both tearing up with stomach-churning nostalgia and anticipation.
He'd de-aged a little but otherwise Bobby was still the same gruff man with dusky blue eyes that glinted with playful affection at the sight of them.
The boys caught up with him. They met Karen. The two lovebirds were planning on a trip to a nursery soon.
When Bobby asked after their parents, he nodded knowingly when they told him about them. "Yeah ain't that just how it is. For some folks, heaven's a new start."
Sam blinked, surprised he hadn't thought about it that way.
"It's better than reliving the past. You know, some still choose to conjure up their own holograms to repeat their greatest hits."
"What?" Dean scoffed. "Who would bury their head in the sand and relive the past like Jack didn't do anything?"
Bobby shrugged. "Jimmy Novak. Nick Pellegrino."
Dean winced, guilty. "Well okay. For those people I'll give it a pass." Their lives had been obliterated so fast that Dean could understand. Still though... "Can they break out of their bubbles?"
"I'm sure," Bobby nodded. "Maybe one day Jimmy will step out, visit Claire when she gets here."
They nodded, feeling for the man. They circled back to their usual banter. They ate sandwiches, drank whiskey, Sam napped on the sofa for a little bit while Dean told Bobby about Castiel's proposal.
Bobby was intrigued and asked for them to check in with him. They promised they would.
This, this right here was closer to heaven.
In the car afterwards, Dean said it.
"Mom and Dad were like," Dean paused, put his hands up to wiggle his fingers, added an airy lilt to his voice, "'oh we'll see you when we see you'," he stopped, looked at Sam. "You know?"
"Yeah. They love us. They just-"
"They regret what they did with us."
Sam sighed. "They should," he said lightly, no judgement. "I mean… if they didn't they wouldn't belong in heaven."
Dean raised his eyebrows. "Ouch."
"Am I wrong?"
Dean started Baby. "No." He turned on the radio. Led Zeppelin played. "What do you say about the road house?"
Sam nodded as he rubbed his face, his eyes. Who knew this new heaven would be so much fucking therapy.
"Yeah," Sam croaked. "I need a drink."
They found out Ash was spending his time getting souls in his favorite bands back together to play. They performed mostly in Pamela's smoky dark concert hall, sometimes in Harvelle's Roadhouse.
Ellen and Jo were lively bickerers and the brothers shared amusement watching the dynamic. Over deliciously dark and full-bodied beer they learned Jo and Ellen rarely stayed at the Roadhouse. They used it as a home base but they spent most of their perceptible time exploring heaven now.
"Um…" Sam shifted in his seat, plastered on that puppy dog face to look at the two of them. "What about Bill?"
Ellen raised her eyebrows and sighed. She looked at Jo and Jo shrugged. "Bill's around. He stops in. But he lost his daddy when he was sixteen, his mama when he was twenty-two. He spends a lot of time with them."
Jo nodded with a sad smile. "Yeah." She looked at her mother. "I get it."
Ellen tsked with kind, steady love in her eyes. "Oh sweetie."
Jo ended the moment by turning back to them with an excited glint in her eyes.
"So d'you know, Mom and I think there's levels of heaven. Like that match Dante's levels of hell."
Normally Sam would've been on the edge of his seat about that topic but he stayed quiet, eyes downcast as the conversation about heaven's new atmosphere carried on. After a few, Dean knocked his knee against him and Sam startled. Dean noticed and kept his leg against Sam's then, a familiar pressure, a reminder he wasn't alone. Sam wiped his eyes and tuned back into things. He'd been thinking how maybe heaven was just knowing you'll never have to say goodbye for good.
Kevin and Linda Tran lived in a bustling metropolis that reminded Sam and Dean of New York City. They found the pair having coffee together in a small cozy hideaway just a block down from the hospital, Kevin's place of work. He was a surgeon, healing particularly damaged souls when they arrived in heaven. Linda beamed with pride. Her heaven often intersected with Kevin's but she had other prerogatives too. She had her husband back, Kevin's father, and she worked at the Men of Letters headquarters. Intrigued, Sam and Dean decided they'd visit there next.
Henry, their grandfather, was immensely pleased to see them. The Men of Letters headquarters was a sprawling mansion and there they educated MoL members on Earth that managed to pierce the veil and communicate with them. He also came home to his wife every night at five-thirty sharp, and this steady respectable lifestyle was his heaven.
The brothers had no idea if Samuel Campbell was in heaven and they didn't check.
They visited Charlie, who lived in an eccentric rickety house on a coast with her mom and twelve huge and overly affectionate dogs. She and Pamela were dating.
Missouri was a young, talented singer. She was in a duet act with her sister performing along the Chicago bar circuit.
Frank Devereax had a six year old son who'd never reached seven. They were playing on the beach in Martha's Vineyard.
The sun rose over a rippling silver great lake, Eerie, just beyond the Cleveland Botanical Gardens.
The rich, loamy scents of the indoor nurseries relaxed them, the plant life and dawn life soothing any stress or nervous anticipation they might have about meeting Cas. Dean absently touched the leaves as he walked but eventually stopped, looked closer.
"Sam, do some of these plants look straight outta Avatar or is it just me?"
"They're souls," Cas replied suddenly. Straightening up, the boys turned and smiled at the angel standing before them. Cas smiled back, clear blue eyes as he gestured at the glowing sapphire succulent Dean had been looking at. It had iridescent violet edges to its leaves. "They're the souls of the young. Your parents came to a nursery like this one to find Rex and Fiona."
"Are they… happy?" Sam asked nervously as Dean stroked a leaf and it glowed brighter in response.
"Yes. Very. They do love interacting with other souls like that too though, Dean."
"She likes me," Dean chuckled, stroking it again and the leaf shivered and leaned in for more.
"Okay, c'mon," Sam tapped Dean's arm. Dean smiled good-naturedly and pivoted to give Cas his undivided attention.
"Okay, sorry."
"It's quite all right. They are very sweet, very pure. Very fragile."
"Fragile?" Sam prompted, curious.
Cas nodded. "Only level three and higher have access to these rooms in particular."
"Level three?"
"What level are we?" Sam overrode Dean's question.
Cas rolled his eyes. "Neither of you are going to win any awards as outstanding pillars of virtue but you're cleared for this room."
Dean snorted and shared a look with Sam.
"Fair enough," Sam shrugged. "So are there nine levels of heaven just like hell?"
Cas twitched and shook his head. "Let me first give you an overview. Then you can ask questions."
Sam sat on a nearby bench. Dean plopped down beside him, leaving him little room. Sam soaked it up. Fifty years since he'd had his brother crowd him like he'd never heard of personal space. Fifty years since anyone deigned to put their arm along the back of the bench behind Sam. It was possessive, protective, and damned if Sam didn't lean into it like the succulent.
Dean noticed and settled a hand between Sam's shoulder blades.
"Sam, are you alright?" Cas asked.
"He's okay. He just missed us," Dean explained. Cas met that news with plain empathetic sorrow and came over, sat next to him too. Sam's hair fell past his face as he looked down but nodded.
"It was really just a car ride for you?"
"Yeah, Sammy."
"Will that work for my son?" He turned and asked Cas, tears in his eyes. He was used to hugging his baby when he got like this and suddenly it was all he wanted. His son in his arms, his brother having his back, their angel protecting them all.
Cas gazed into Sam's eyes and took his hand.
"You'll see your son again soon, Sam. I promise." Castiel ticked his head. "Which is actually related to what I'm here for."
"How's that?" Sam asked, his tone steady now; easy, curious.
"Um, okay," Cas got up and stood in front of them, put his hands together. "Okay. Let's start with this: Amara is back. Jack released her, and she's been given leave to wander Earth and the rest of the cosmos and multiverses as she sees fit."
"So... she's not a threat," Sam concluded.
"Correct. Jack has also… decentralized a lot of his power. It's safe, he can access it whenever he wants, but he prefers diplomacy and peace over using his powers."
"Diplomacy and peace?" Dean repeated, bewildered. "With who? He's God."
"He's a God," Cas corrected. Dean made a face. "Jack counts himself as one among many that just so happens to be the most powerful."
"God's a Pagan now?" Sam asked, incredulous.
"And I don't think it's a phase," Cas sighed, rubbing his forehead. The brothers shared a look, tried not to laugh. "Anyway," Cas huffed tiredly, "with this new position, Jack needs help."
"We're in, Cas," Sam assured him. Dean nodded.
Cas pressed his lips together and smiled, eyes sparkling. "I wasn't sure if you'd want to get back in the saddle, so to speak. Either of you."
Sam shook his head, opened his mouth to assure the angel but Dean got there first. "Cas, resting in peace is amazing, and we have it as an option now, we know-"
"Your access to heaven is eternal," Cas confirmed, dipping his head.
"Good. Thank you. But... we love this . Doing stuff that matters, you know? With the people we love." Dean looked meaningfully at the angel.
Sam didn't notice, busy wiping a tear off his cheek. His voice was shaky. "It's been a long time, for me at least. I want that back more than anything, Cas. We don't just want to help you here. We'd choose something like this for our heavens anyway."
Castiel's eyes glistened, he bit his lip. "I can't tell you how much that means to me."
"All right, cut it out before we need another group hug," Dean gruffed and made Sam laugh, Castiel collected himself. "What kind of work would we be doing exactly, Cas?"
Cas nodded at the question, considering.
"You'll be liaisons, of a sort. Between heaven, hell, purgatory, earth, and many more realms beyond those."
"What other realms?"
"Well for example, hell is not the same as the underworld."
Sam nodded in thought, processing that.
"Liaisons, huh?" Dean prompted.
Cas shrugged. "Maybe some psychopomp work thrown in. We anticipate some problems between levels of heaven interacting too."
"Does that… really need our kind of experience?"
"Very much so. In addition to the grace you'll be imbued with."
"Wait, can we die on these missions?"
Cas hesitated. "Normally I'd say no, just the risk of pain. But," Cas took a breath. "on our first case, it is a possibility. We're meeting the next Death."
Sam and Dean fell silent, stunned.
"In the year 2025."
A/N: Thank you so much for reading.
Please comment+kudos if you can spare a minute.
xoxo ~ Alex
