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Throwing Stones At The Stars
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Once Chuck is gone, the world is brighter and bigger around them. The bunker is full of life – movie nights and loud dinners and card games. Eileen is around almost constantly, practically living at the bunker most days. While she's spending her time with Sam, it gives Dean and Cas plenty of room to be on their own. The four of them go on a few hunts here and there, but for the most part they sit and enjoy their freedom.
In the weeks following Chuck's defeat, people visit the bunker one by one. Bobby and Charlie swing by for some poker and beer, and Donna shows up with doughnuts and a Game Of Thrones DVD set. Jody and her girls all descend on the bunker one weekend for what essentially amounts to a field trip and a slumber party. They all cram into the TV room with bowls of popcorn for a showing of 3:10 To Yuma, where Kaia, Claire, Alex, and Patience are forced to sprawl on cushions on the floor. And when Cas sits on the couch with his arm around Dean's shoulders, relaxed and comfortable and stealing handfuls of popcorn from the bowl in Dean's lap, Claire gives him a knowing smile that nobody else sees.
It only takes a couple of weeks to sink into their new normal. Not just hunting small-time monsters and being relieved when each case doesn't lead to bigger and badder things, but living, and doing so together. Sam and Eileen go running every morning, while Cas and Dean walk the dog and make breakfast so that it's ready when they return.
In the small moments where Cas and Dean are alone, they discover each other gradually, bit by bit. Cas decides that this is the best time in his eons-long life.
But time, as it happens, runs out for Dean and Castiel much, much quicker than they expected.
Nearly two months after they beat Chuck, Cas wakes tangled in Dean's limbs. Dean is snoring, his arm draped over Cas's middle. Cas waits for a while, watching Dean sleep and relishing in the warmth of the too-small bed. He idly traces shapes on Dean's bare shoulder with his index finger, ghosting over freckles and scars from old fights. Finally, the clock turns over to eight-thirty and Cas sighs, not quite ready to leave this moment. He wakes Dean, gently running his hand over Dean's forearm until he stirs.
"Man, I was having a good dream," Dean grumbles, only half coherent as he shifts closer.
"Good morning."
"Mornin'," Dean says through a yawn with his eyes still closed.
Cas can see that he's about to fall back asleep, so he presses his forehead to Dean's. "We have to go walk the dog."
Dean grunts in the back of his throat, refusing to move. "Two more minutes."
Cas waits for exactly two minutes before he pushes Dean's arm off him and stands up, making Dean groan indignantly into the pillow. "Come on," Cas urges, lightly slapping Dean's thigh.
He puts up a fight, but Dean finally sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes as Cas gets dressed. They leave the bunker with Miracle trotting alongside them and fresh air filling their lungs.
Despite the early hour, it's already a beautiful day, and the world is bursting – a riot of every color in Creation. Cas almost misses his grace, only because as an angel he could see the vibrations of every atom in every tree, every bird and insect, every stone, and he was constantly witness to the divine energy that held this world together. Now, though, he's able to see the colors as a whole, the sweeping sum of every building block put together without the complex burden of seeing exactly how they fit. It's the way a human sees the world. The way Dean sees it.
Walking beneath the trees, with one hand interlocked with Dean's and Miracle running ahead, Cas finds no need to fill the space between them with talk.
Later, after breakfast, Dean announces that he's found a case in Ohio – children disappearing in pairs, their parents left dead or disfigured. Eileen finds another in Parkersburg, West Virginia, and turns her laptop around so they can see the article reporting that three bodies had turned up with their hearts ripped out. There's some debate among the four of them as to which case to tackle first, until Dean decides they should split up.
"I mean, four hunters to a case is kind of overkill, isn't it?" he says. "Practically no sport in it."
"All right," Sam nods. "Eileen and I can take West Virginia, and you and Cas take Ohio."
Eileen glances at Dean for a second and then suggests that she and Cas pair up instead. "Cas and I can handle Parkersburg."
Cas smiles at her, knowing that she's only proposing the idea because she's been spending a lot of time with Sam lately, and the same is true of him and Dean. The brothers have had barely any space to hang out just the two of them. And Cas knows it's the right call, since Dean is already excited at the prospect of working a case with just Sam for the first time in a long while.
They pack up changes of clothes and snacks for the road, and just before they head out the door Dean presses a quick goodbye kiss to Cas's lips. "I'll call you from the road."
"Be safe," Cas tells him, and climbs into the passenger seat of Eileen's Plymouth Valiant.
Eileen, as it turns out, is a bit of a reckless driver, and they reach West Virginia in record time. Cas is not familiar with the sensation of being carsick, and by the time they arrive he's just grateful that they never got pulled over for speeding. He asks her once outside of St. Louis to please slow down, but she only replies with "People are dying, Castiel."
They crash at a motel for the night and get started asking questions around town first thing the following morning. Eileen has an impressive array of disguises on hand, even more so than Sam and Dean, and Cas is stunned when she steps out of the motel bathroom in a full police officer's uniform.
"Don't worry, I have one for you too," she assures him, pulling a second uniform out of her duffel. It so happens that she has a friend in New York who works in costume design, has an excellent eye for detail, and most importantly, owes Eileen a lot of favors.
They arrive at the scene of a new killing, bringing the total body count in Parkersburg to four. Approaching the crime scene tape outside a picture-perfect suburban home, they're stopped by one of the local police.
"Can I help you?" The officer is clearly a rookie, barely out of the academy.
"I'm Officer Jenny Conlee, and this is my partner Colin Meloy. We're reinforcements from Marietta," says Eileen smoothly, signing as she speaks. "Our department thought you could use some help with this case."
Cas holds up his fake badge, trying to keep a straight face as the rookie blinks rapidly, utterly taken aback.
"Sorry, are you… are you Deaf?" he stammers.
Eileen gives him a withering look. "Obviously," she signs.
Inside, they find a gruesome scene – some poor young woman whose heart was ripped out so violently that her blood splattered on the ceiling. Eileen stares down at the body on the floor, her mouth twitching in a pang of sadness, before she signs a single word to Castiel: "Werewolf."
Later, as they stop for lunch at a diner near the Parkersburg town center, Dean's name pops up on Cas's phone. Cas rubs his fist on his chest for a moment to apologize to Eileen for the interruption, then steps outside to answer the call. He leans on the hood of Eileen's car and grins when Dean tells him that they're at a pie festival in Akron.
"Cas, they have a peanut butter and jelly cheesecake!" Dean says, his excitement palpable even through the phone.
"That sounds delicious, but since when do you like cheesecake?"
"Oh, come on, it's practically pie."
Cas chuckles, glancing up at Eileen through the diner window. She's also on her phone, checking in quickly with Sam through a video call.
"How's your case?" Dean inquires.
"Progressing quickly," Cas answers. "It's werewolves. We're pretty sure there's a whole pack nearby. After lunch, we're going to ask around and see if we can figure out where they're hiding."
Cas can sense Dean smiling as he says, "Well, you and Eileen make a cute team."
"How's it going on your end?"
"Sam slammed a pie in my face, so revenge is next on the list."
That forces another laugh out of Cas. "I'm glad you're having fun."
"Yeah, well, next case is you and me, okay?"
"Yes. Definitely." Cas waves to Eileen as she looks at him through the diner window and points to her watch. "I have to go, Dean, but as soon as Eileen and I finish with this case we'll head up to Akron."
"Great. I'll see you soon."
Cas ends the call and goes back inside. He asks the waitress for a box so he can take his lunch to go, eager to wrap up the case.
It takes the rest of the day to track the wolf pack to a junkyard just outside the town perimeter, where scrapped cars sit in rusty stacks behind a chain link fence. Just after sunset, Cas and Eileen break in armed to the teeth – silver bullets in their guns and silver knives strapped to their ankles and tucked into their sleeves. Eileen uses a small pair of wire cutters to cut through the fence, letting Cas wriggle through ahead of her. Methodically, they comb through the junkyard with their guns at the ready.
Rounding a corner beneath a precariously balanced scrap stack, a man leaps out of the darkness with yellow eyes and huge fangs bared. Eileen puts a bullet in his head from four feet away, and the junkyard erupts into chaos.
There's five more werewolves, and they live up to their pack hunter nature, coming at Cas and Eileen from all sides. Cas manages to shoot a female through the stomach just before she can sink her teeth into his neck. Eileen swings her bowie knife into the chest of a hulking male, and suddenly the pack has gone from six to three.
The fight is a close call – very close. By the end of it, Eileen has a big cut on her cheek and bleeding scratches down her arm, while Cas is nursing a laceration on his shoulder. Both of them are out of breath and absolutely filthy, covered in dirt, gravel, and werewolf body fluids.
Eileen grimaces and wipes wolf spittle from her jacket. "Gross."
Cas nods in agreement, still panting from the exertion of wrestling with a werewolf twice his size. "This was so much easier when I had powers," he remarks, idly kicking the severed head of the alpha away from its body with the toe of his boot.
"You miss them?" Eileen asks as she pulls a detached claw out of her hair.
Cas grins. "Not at all."
Once they've disposed of the bodies in the car compactor, they head back to the Valiant to get cleaned up. Eileen, much more of a plan-ahead personality than Dean or Sam, has not just a stash of weapons in the trunk, but also plenty of water and wipes alongside the first aid kit. Cas is wrapping a bandage around Eileen's scratched-up forearm when his phone rings in his back pocket.
"Hi, Sam," he answers, holding the phone between his ear and his non-injured shoulder as he finishes tying the bandage.
"Cas."
Instantly, Cas freezes. Something is wrong.
"Cas, I—" Sam chokes on the other end. "This— This case, it went sideways…"
The pit of Cas's stomach goes cold, ice spreading through his veins. "Sam, what happened?"
Eileen is watching him with a worried frown. "What's wrong?" she signs.
The connection crackles as Sam sobs into the phone. He sounds like he's speaking through a mouthful of broken glass. "Dean, h-he…"
Cas's heart lurches to a stop, his hands going numb.
"You need to come up here now," Sam manages to get out, and the only thing Cas can say is that he'll be there soon.
Eileen speeds the entire way to Akron, so much so that Cas is worried the engine of the Valiant will give out. But they make it, and they find Sam in the countryside miles outside the city. He's at an abandoned farm, in the dirt drive leading up to a huge decaying barn. Cas leaps from the car before Eileen has even finished parking and runs to where Sam is sitting on the ground, leaning with his back on the passenger door of the Impala.
As soon as he sees them, Sam begins to cry in violent, wracking sobs. Eileen drops to her knees beside him and wraps her arms around his shoulders, his entire weight sagging against her side.
"I-I couldn't – I couldn't g-get him down," is the only thing Sam is able to articulate.
Cas has no idea what that means, but it sends a chill through his body. Terror claws at the back of his skull, his breath quickening. "Where… where is he?" he asks, his voice shaking.
Sam wordlessly gestures to the barn. He can't speak.
Time slows to a crawl as Cas approaches the barn door with his pulse echoing in his ears and static crackling inside his head. His limbs seem to move of their own accord.
Inside the barn, there's blood everywhere and beheaded corpses strewn across the straw-covered dusty floor. They've taken out the entire vampire nest, leaving no survivors. Dean is over to the right against a large wooden post.
Cas doesn't understand what he's seeing.
Dean is standing upright. He's standing. But his head hangs low and his arms and legs are slack, utterly unmoving. Behind him, a small stream of blood has coursed down the post and pooled under Dean's boots.
Cas stumbles over the dead and dismembered vampires, barely noticing them. He's focused entirely on Dean's face. His eyes are closed, his mouth slightly open. Cas cups Dean's cheek and there's no response. His skin isn't cold yet, but it's not as warm as it should be. There's no color, no sign of pain, no small but sure pulsing of the vein in Dean's temple.
This isn't Dean. It's an empty shell, his soul already gone. He's not standing. He's hanging.
The sound that wrenches out of Cas's chest is holy agony, somewhere between a sob and a scream.
Eileen is beside him then, grasping at his arm. She's saying his name, he knows she is, but he can't hear her. Cas is drowning, unable to breathe. He's clinging to Dean's shoulders, prayers pouring out of him like a waterfall over a cliff.
Eileen has to shout in order to make him look at her. Her eyes are wide and threatening to spill over, but suddenly she's the only thing tethering Cas to the ground. "Castiel," she says, forceful and soft all at once. "Cas. Listen to me. We need to bring him outside." She places her palm on his shuddering chest, pleading. "We need to get him home. Can you help me?"
Cas coughs out a breath, the air tearing out of his lungs with sharp edges. He barely manages a nod. The longer Dean is stuck there, the worse it is.
She squeezes his wrist comfortingly, her chin trembling. "We'll do this together. Okay?"
Feeling entirely detached from the earth under his feet, Cas nods again. He has to do this. He can't leave Dean here in this horrific position, not when Dean deserves so much better. Together, Eileen and Cas grip Dean's torso and attempt to pull him from the post, but he won't budge. He's pinned.
Eileen steps back, shakily swiping tears from her cheeks with her sleeve. "I think… I think we have to lift him." She hiccups, looking sick to her stomach at the thought.
Cas wants to vomit. Eileen is right; whatever object has impaled Dean is literally hooked into him, and they can't just pull him forward. At her direction, Cas nudges his shoulder underneath Dean's left arm while Eileen does the same on the right, and together they push upward.
He isn't prepared for the noise. Cas can feel and hear the object rip out of Dean's flesh, scraping past bone and tendon and muscle. Worse still, the motion drives the last bit of air in Dean's lungs out in a hollow exhale, and for a single excruciating moment Cas thinks Dean is still breathing. This is what Sam couldn't do. He couldn't listen to this.
As Dean's body is finally tugged free, he's suddenly heavy and Cas and Eileen almost immediately lose their hold on him. He hits the ground like a tree torn from its roots, the hole in his back surrounded by a large patch of blood. Cas sees at last that it's a piece of rebar jabbing out from the wooden post – sharp, bigger than any angel blade, and dripping with Dean's blood. It's long enough to have pierced nearly all the way through him.
Cas presses his palms over his face, unable to take in the sight of Dean lying dead at his feet. His lungs are fighting to breathe, gasping unevenly as he cries into his hands.
Eileen swallows and blinks her tears away, squaring her shoulders. "Cas, help me," she orders.
He does, and together they carry Dean's body out of the barn, back to the Impala. Sam is already on his feet, and the three of them struggle to get him into the back seat. Cas gets into the car and pulls from inside, and ends up sitting behind the driver's seat with Dean's head and shoulders in his arms. Cas is pinned under Dean's weight, but he doesn't want to move and refuses Sam's suggestion to sit in the front seat.
Dean is bleeding onto the leather upholstery. It's sluggish and sticky, pulled from his wound by gravity and not the pressure of his heartbeat.
Outside the car, Eileen is trying to reassure Sam, but Cas doesn't care enough about what she's saying to listen.
"We didn't have enough time," Cas whispers. He winds a hand into Dean's hair, pulling him closer, trying to keep the warmth from leaving his body. He doesn't – can't – look at Dean's face. Not like this.
The journey home is dark and silent. Sam doesn't speak, his hands white-knuckled around the steering wheel. Cas stares out the window and watches the sun rise as they navigate the highway back to Kansas, the sky rolling from black to pink. Somewhere behind them, Eileen is following in the Valiant, a pair of headlights over their shoulders.
They take Dean to a place outside of Lebanon, a meadow surrounded by woods a decent distance from the road. Cas is at last forced to leave Dean in the car, and he, Sam, and Eileen begin collecting wood for a funeral pyre. As he works, Cas is utterly numb.
Dropping one final armful of wood onto the amassed pile, Cas looks up at the sound of an engine. No, multiple engines. There are cars coming.
Cas and Sam exchange a look, and quickly head for the Impala to retrieve their guns. If someone was about to discover them burning a body in a field, it wouldn't end well. Their fears are quashed, however, when they recognize the vehicles coming down the dirt road. Three trucks and a car all drive into the meadow and park next to the Impala and the Valiant.
Bobby and Charlie step out of their piece-of-junk pickups, while Donna climbs down out of her souped-up rottweiler of a truck. Jody's sedan pulls to a stop beside them, her girls piling out of the car after her.
Cas and Sam look at each other again, this time in shock. Eileen is the only one who isn't surprised at the sudden arrival, and Cas realizes that Eileen must have been the one to call them.
"Sorry we're late," says Donna, yanking Sam down into an embrace.
Cas lets out a long exhale, the first easy breath he's taken since Akron. There are now eleven people in the meadow, and all he can feel is gratitude.
Donna, Jody, Bobby, Charlie, Patience, Claire, Kaia, Alex, Eileen, Cas, and Sam all build the pyre together. There are tears and reassuring hugs and loving stories and broken laughter over memories relived. And when it's time, Cas and Sam carry Dean from the car. When Cas falters while tying the shroud, Jody steps in to help. Bobby splashes gasoline. Charlie hands Sam her lighter.
Sam is the one to light the pyre, and they all step back and watch the flames surge toward the sky, smoke pouring upward and dissipating into the blue. Cas looks down when someone grabs his hand and sees that it's Claire. She squeezes his hand once with both of hers and leans her head on his shoulder, and he cries.
Surrounded by family, they watch Dean burn away into the atmosphere.
It's a day and a half before Cas can bring himself to clean the blood from the Impala's back seat. He doesn't feel ready at all, but he can hear Dean's voice in the back of his head:
You just going to leave my baby like that? C'mon, man, it's not good for the leather.
So he gets a bowl of water and a cloth from the kitchen and brings them out to the bunker's garage, where the Impala has sat undriven since the funeral. When he opens the door and sees the dried blood on the seat, he has to take a minute to compose himself, one hand braced on the Impala's roof. He takes a few breaths to steel his nerves, then leans in and balances on his knees in order to scrub the blood out of each seam.
He's almost finished when he notices the corner of a white cardboard box on the floor, poking out from underneath the front passenger seat. He frowns and reaches down, having to strain slightly to pull it out. Climbing back out of the car, he sets the box on top of the Impala's trunk and breaks the little tape seal holding it shut. When he opens it, Cas begins to sob again, feeling like a knife is running through the base of his throat.
It's a peanut butter and jelly cheesecake.
I knew you'd like it, Dean's voice ghosts in the back of his head. It's not real, but Cas doesn't care.
Sam and Cas still live in the bunker, but it hardly feels like home once Dean is gone. Eileen moves in officially, which helps to fill the void a little bit. Mostly, it helps Sam. Cas still finds himself going to sleep most nights with a chill in his stomach and a lump in his throat. His bed, far too small for two people to sleep comfortably, is now entirely too big. Like an ocean he could drown in.
Part of Cas – a big part – considers killing himself quickly. He's human now, so it should be easy. Humans are breakable and susceptible to any number of deaths. His soul will go to Heaven where he'll relive his best memories, and he knows he'll be with Dean.
But the thing that stops him is Dean's voice, because he knows that Dean would never forgive him for doing something so stupid. Cas has to stay, not just for Sam but for all the fights that they've dedicated their lives to. All the things that go bump in the night, all the people that wouldn't get saved if Cas wasn't there to save them.
So Cas stays. He lives.
In the mornings, Cas still makes breakfast for himself, Sam, and Eileen, and then walks the dog. With Miracle in tow, he meanders through the wooded roads surrounding the bunker, witnessing the changing of the seasons as months tick by. The first colorless winter is the hardest.
Cas continues to hunt, as do Sam and Eileen. Years drag by in little more than a blink. Cas gradually learns sign language, which helps on cases so that they can all communicate silently, but most importantly it means that Cas and Eileen can make teasing jokes about Sam when his back is turned. They still have movie nights and game nights, and other hunters breeze through the bunker in search of help or a place to lay their head for a while. It takes a long time, but Cas does manage to smile and laugh and have fun in the small moments, because he knows some days that's all that's keeping the grief at bay.
Two years, three months, and seventeen days after Dean's funeral, it's an early autumn afternoon and Cas is sitting at a picnic table outside of a roadside burger joint outside of Norfolk, Nebraska along Route 88. Miracle is laying in the grass at his feet, enjoying the extra burger patty that Cas bought him. Jody sits across from him, having come by to see him without all the girls in tow. She's beaming with pride as she gushes about them – about Alex finishing nursing school, Patience getting her master's degree, and Claire moving to Omaha with Kaia.
"I'm not really sure if Patience's psychic visions count as cheating on exams, but…" Jody tilts her head, chuckling. "In any case, she's doing well."
Cas wipes his mouth with a napkin. He's nearly finished with his food already, since Jody's been doing almost all the talking. "And Claire? She's happy in Omaha?"
Jody smiles. She knows that he has a particular attachment to Claire, a more profound history. "She's very happy, Cas. And, you know, she's close by. You could always go visit her."
He doesn't reply honestly. He doesn't say that he's overjoyed that Claire is making a good life for herself, or that seeing her is always hard because he knows what he took from her. He doesn't say that he doesn't want to intrude on her time exploring independence and adulthood, or her time with Kaia. He doesn't say that he misses her. Instead, he just nods and says, "Maybe."
Jody puts her burger down on the paper plate, then leans on her elbows with her hands clasped on the wooden tabletop. "How are you doing, Cas?"
"I'm fine, Jody. As well as can be expected."
Jody studies him, scrutinizing him like a mother. She knows he's not telling her everything. He meets her gaze evenly; he doesn't care that she knows he's lying.
"God, you're just like Dean," she says with a shake of her head.
That throws him off guard, and he's sure it shows in his face.
She reaches across the table and lays her hand over his. "I'm not going to force you to talk about it," she says. "But I know better than most that grief doesn't go away, and I know that not talking about it is usually worse than the alternative."
Cas sighs, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat.
"I'm just going to say this," Jody continues. "You are always welcome to come to Sioux Falls and see me. If you need a place to talk, to get away, or if you just need a home-cooked meal."
He gives her a genuine smile, feeling secure in the fact that she loves and cares for him. "I know. Thank you, Jody. I'll take you up on it someday, I promise." But today is not that day, and Cas bids Jody goodbye with a hug before beckoning Miracle back to the car.
Driving back to Lebanon, Cas has the windows rolled down and he breathes deeply, intentionally. Music loudly plays on the radio and his thumbs drum along in time on the steering wheel. The sun is beginning to set, the sky streaked with brilliant pinks and oranges and purples rippling across the clouds. Miracle sits on the passenger seat watching the traffic go by as Cas idly scratches his ears.
Cas's phone rings. He switches off the radio and fishes the phone out of his pocket without taking his eyes off the road. "Hello?"
"Cas?"
"Hello, Sam."
"Hey. It's time."
Cas's heart skips, his hand tightening on the steering wheel. "Where are you?"
"Salina."
"I'm on my way." Cas quickly ends the call, tossing his phone into the center console, and presses his foot to the accelerator.
It takes an hour and a half after he hangs up to reach the bunker to drop off Miracle, and Cas rushes to fill the dog's food bowl for dinner before he runs back out the door and to the car. Then, it takes another two hours to reach Salina. Cas pulls his car into the parking garage of the hospital and quickly walks through the entrance. The receptionist points him in the right direction.
Finally, he approaches the nurses station on the third floor and speaks to a plump woman in violet scrubs. "Hi, I'm looking for Sam Winchester and—"
"Oh, are you Cas?" she asks.
He nods. "Yes, that's me."
She smiles. "Mr. Winchester said you'd be coming in. I can't let you into the room right now, but you can have a seat." She points to a sitting area in the corner, with old magazines arranged neatly in a rack between a water cooler and a coin-operated Keurig machine.
Cas doesn't sit. He paces with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, alternating between watching the clock and staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the town sprawling below and the moon rising in the night sky. He drinks several too-small cups of coffee, the empty paper cups piling up in the little trash can by the machine. The lights of Salina wink against the dark outside, and the fluorescent lighting in the hospital dims to a calming glow.
Just before midnight, Cas hears his name called and turns to see Sam coming down the corridor.
"Sam!" he says, striding quickly out of the sitting area.
Sam is grinning from ear to ear, shaking with excitement, and he slams into Cas with a hug that knocks Cas back on his heels. He leads Cas down the hall, around the corner, and into a well-lit warm room where Eileen is sitting up in the bed, a bundle of blankets in her arms. She's still flushed and sweaty and her hair's a mess, and she's utterly lovely. She beams when Cas follows Sam into the room.
Sam leans over and kisses her forehead, then gently lifts the bundle from her arms. "Cas," he says, his chest swelling with pride. "Meet your godson."
Cas is completely in awe. A little face peers out at him from the blankets and tiny hat, with big, dark eyes like Eileen's. The baby isn't crying or squirming, but instead is resting perfectly calm in the crook of Sam's arm, studying Cas's face like an astronomer watching the stars.
"Hello," Cas whispers, daring to reach up and lightly touch the baby's chest with two fingers. He can feel the small, short breaths that are still unfamiliar and unpracticed.
"His name is Dean," Eileen says. Sam places his free hand on Cas's shoulder.
Cas can't take his eyes off the baby's face, but tears blur his vision. "Really?" he asks, smiling as a tidal wave of joy surges up inside him. The baby wraps his tiny, tiny fingers around the tip of Cas's thumb. "Oh…" Cas sighs. "He's beautiful."
This, Cas decides, is what he's staying alive for.
It's even later in the night, so late that the hospital cafeteria has started serving breakfast, when Cas and Sam find themselves sitting on a bench outside underneath the stars. Eileen is getting some well-earned sleep with Dean in the bassinet beside her, and the sky over the horizon is just beginning to lighten.
"Cas, I can't hunt anymore."
The statement comes out of nowhere, but Cas still is not surprised. He takes a sip of coffee from the to-go cup in his hand.
Sam mistakes his silence for anger or disappointment, and tries to explain. "I… I want to give Dean a normal life," he says. "As normal as possible. And if anything happens to me or Eileen…" Sam shakes his head. "I'm not willing to risk that."
Cas still doesn't reply for a minute. When he does speak, it's only two words. "I know."
Sam frowns at him. "You know?"
Cas leans back on the bench, resting his coffee on the wood slats beside him. "You never wanted to raise a child in the hunter's life. With Jack, there wasn't a choice. With Dean, there is. I've known you were going to quit hunting since you told me Eileen was expecting."
A huff of relief leaves Sam's chest, the corners of his mouth twitching. "You did, huh?"
"You are an excellent father," Cas says. "I can't say that I won't miss hunting with you, and with Eileen. But you're doing the right thing for your family. And I am proud of you."
A shadow of sorrow flits over Sam's face. "You could quit too, you know."
Cas smiles at the sky. "No. No, I couldn't."
Despite knowing it was coming, the day that Eileen, Sam, and Dean leave the bunker arrives much sooner than Cas expected. Dean is only three months old when Sam and Eileen buy a small house outside of Kansas City and begin moving their things out. Cas helps, and he is truly happy for them, but it's still hard. He reminds himself that Kansas City really isn't that far from Lebanon.
Sam and Eileen keep Miracle, at Cas's insistence. Sam protests, shaking his head vigorously. "No, Cas, you need to keep him," he argues.
"We don't want you to be alone," Eileen adds, her index finger turned upward and pressed to her heart. But Cas won't hear it.
"He deserves to live with a family. With children. And a house with a yard."
Sam swallows and finally nods, taking Miracle's leash from Cas's hand. "Come with us," he says, fighting tears. "You don't have to live here, Cas. I know that this place is painful for you."
Cas sighs, looking up at the high ceilings, and a smile drifts over his face. "This is my home. I could never leave, even if I wanted to."
Understanding clears the confusion and sorrow from Sam's face, and Cas is relieved that he doesn't have to explain further. He doesn't have to explain that yes, being here on the bad days hurts more than he can describe, but that this is also where he spent every one of his best days, his happiest days. He can feel Dean's presence in the very woodwork of the bunker. Leaving is not an option.
"Fine," Sam relents with a falsely light smile. "But you're keeping the car."
"Sam, there are plenty of cars for me to use in the garage—"
"She's a hunter's car. She needs to be with a hunter."
Cas reluctantly agrees, and as soon as he does it feels right. He tells himself that he's not keeping the Impala for selfish reasons, that it's only because it's not a good car for a new family with a baby.
Sam and Eileen each give Cas long hugs, and then they leave carrying Dean and the last of their belongings. Miracle trots up the stairs after them. Once the door closes, Cas stands alone in the library for a long time, listening to the quiet. He knows he will still see them frequently, since their new home is only a few hours' drive. But he also knows that everything has changed, and it will be a big adjustment.
He feels good, spurred on by the knowledge that Sam and Eileen are embarking on a massive challenge of their own. He's ready.
Though Cas is the only permanent resident in the bunker, it's still a haven for hunters and he never finds himself alone for very long before new company shows up. Strangers and familiar faces alike, whether they're looking for lore or occult objects or just a place to have a beer. The bunker is no longer a secret, and hunters turn up from all across the continent. Once, a hunter from Guatemala stays for the night on her way north. "Tracking the migration pattern of the chupacabra," she explains over a glass of whiskey.
Cas hunts, too, mostly by himself but working with other hunters as the opportunities present. He racks up kills quickly and efficiently, and understands what Sam and Dean had meant when they described their early hunting life as "pest control". He keeps the Impala in excellent shape, and he keeps the bunker in good shape too. He has plenty to do.
He sees Sam and Eileen a few times every month, and talks on the phone more frequently. He goes to their house for birthdays and holidays and anniversaries, and he watches Dean sprout from infant to toddler to child. He's there for Dean's first steps, his first word, his first run. Cas helps to take care of him when he's sick, and when Sam and Eileen just need some time to themselves.
On the days when he has no visitors and nothing to kill, he plays cassette tapes from Dean's outdated collection and dances in the kitchen while he makes dinner for himself.
It's a warm evening in June when Claire appears at the bunker entrance. She's now well into her twenties – a gorgeous, fully established adult. Cas is ecstatic to see her, and ushers her inside. They sit in the library with a pile of Chinese takeout, chatting about their lives and laughing together as they work their way through a six pack.
"So how old is Dean now?" Claire asks as she finishes her third bottle.
"He just finished kindergarten last week," Cas says fondly, cracking open a fortune cookie. Something good is coming your way! the cookie tells him.
"Wow." Claire looks up at the ceiling, then leans back and props her feet up on the empty chair beside her. "Time flies, huh?"
"Yes, it does." Cas clears his throat and straightens. "Another beer?"
Claire shakes her head. "No, no, I'm good. I actually wanted to ask a favor."
Cas, about to stand and collect the empty bottles for the trash, sits still again. "Oh? What's that?"
"I'm on my way to Denver," she says, tugging on a strand of hair by her ear. "Some reports of bodies turning up with their blood drained. Think it might be vampires."
"You need help hunting them?" Cas is slightly confused. There's no reason that Claire should feel hesitant about asking him for help on a hunt.
Claire lets out a breath. "I just… I know Dean went down hunting a vamp nest and I didn't want to make you do something that was… triggering, I guess." She shrugs. "Donna's already on her way to Denver to meet me there, so if you don't want to, you don't have to."
Cas is touched by her concern, but vampires are not what worries him. "I'll be fine," he insists. "I say we get some sleep, and then we can head to Denver first thing."
"Deal." Claire is visibly happy that he's agreed, and Cas loves that she thought to ask for his help.
In the morning, Cas sits in the passenger seat of Claire's 1993 Fox Body Mustang as she drives away from the bunker. He's pulled everything he needs for a vamp hunt from the Impala's trunk and stashed it in the Mustang's – there's no reason for three hunters to use three vehicles and he knows that either Claire or Donna will be more than happy to give him a ride back to Lebanon afterwards. The Mustang is small and tough, a vicious terrier, and Claire laughs at him when he has to move the seat all the way back for adequate leg room.
They meet Donna in Denver and visit the coroner's office to find that there have been six bodies discovered over the course of a few months. The Denver police think it's the work of a serial killer, or maybe a local cult. When the coroner yanks the sheet back from one of the corpses, Donna winces.
"Oofta."
"Obviously, this is how the blood was drained," says the coroner flatly.
The corpse has a massive cavity in its chest, a hole torn straight through skin and muscle and ribs, leaving what little is left of the internal organs exposed. There are more wounds covering the body – gashes all over the limbs and lower abdomen, and a deep laceration all the way through the left cheek, exposing the molars.
"Heart missing?" asks Claire, glancing at Cas. She's unbothered by the gore, but instead is confused as to why a vampire victim would be missing their heart.
The coroner nods, and gestures to the wall of cadaver drawers. "I got five more bodies that look just like this one. Normally, I'd say this was an animal attack, but the only animals we have in downtown Denver are squirrels and the occasional stray cat."
"Yeah, this is a weird one," Donna agrees, looking genuinely rattled.
As soon as they're back outside in the sun, away from prying non-hunter ears and heading back to the car, Cas speaks up. "I think I know what it is."
Cas recalls a case that Sam and Dean worked in Oregon ages ago. By now it's been at least ten years, but Cas remembers the details. Creatures that eat hearts and drain blood, and when newly-turned don't hide the bodies well.
A ghoul-pire! Dean's voice echoes in the back of Cas's head. Come on, say it with me!
"I think it's a Nachzehrer. Rather, a group of them."
Donna shrugs her business-suit jacket off her shoulders. "Well, okey dokey, then. How do we kill 'em?"
When Cas explains that they have to stick a penny in the alpha's mouth before beheading it, both Claire and Donna think he's joking.
They find the Nachzehrer nest two days later in a condemned ten-story factory building in an industrial area of Denver – the closest thing to an isolated cave or abandoned farm to be found in the city. They've stopped at a bank for some change and are now armed with pennies and machetes. They have no way of knowing which Nachzehrer is the alpha, so they're going to take a trial-and-error approach.
"Remember, shooting them will slow them down," Cas says as they sneak into the building.
The nest is small – only four Nachzehrers. While the others run deeper into the building, one attacks, going for Claire with razor teeth and claws. She shoots it in the forehead, and once it hits the floor Cas quickly shoves a penny into its mouth and chops its head off before it can wake back up. Donna is already running for the stairs at the back of the building with her machete in hand, so Cas and Claire follow suit.
They chase the rest of the pack all the way to the roof and run out of the service door into the blinding sunlight. The three remaining Nachzehrers are crouched with their teeth bared, ready to defend their territory.
"Alrighty, then," says Donna eagerly. She's wearing a savage grin as she flips her machete threateningly. "One for each of us. Nice and easy."
Claire takes on the smallest, a wiry short-statured female who moves quicker than the other two. Donna goes for the giant of the three, a male at least two heads higher than her. The last is another female who's tall and muscled like a blacksmith, and she's looking at Cas like she's picking out which body part she wants to eat first. The three Nachzehrers attack in unison.
Cas is forced to focus solely on the creature launching herself at him, and all he can do is hope that Donna and Claire can hold their own. He swings his machete at the Nachzehrer but she leaps deftly out of the way and slices her claws into the side of his neck, making him yell in pain. He pulls out his gun to try and slow her and she sinks her teeth into his forearm, forcing him to drop the gun. In the same instant, he swings his blade under his left arm with his right and manages to catch her in the side.
She screams like an angry puma, retreating and clutching her flank where he's split her open. The retreat only lasts a minute, however, and she lunges at him again. Cas is knocked off his feet and slams into the concrete roof with her on top of him, huge jagged teeth gnashing mere inches from his nose. He scrambles to keep her from literally biting his face off, and sees out of the corner of his eye that his machete has clattered several feet away, toward the edge of the roof.
Gritting his teeth, Cas seizes her and rolls once, twice, three times, and comes to a stop with her underneath him. He grabs the machete and is about to bring it down on her neck when she twists and kicks him off with impressive strength. In the half-second before she attacks him again, he sees that Donna's already killed the male and she and Claire are still working on the other female, coming at her from both sides.
The Nachzehrer in front of Cas, however, is showing no signs of slowing down. He rams the machete into her stomach to the hilt, which pierces all the way through her and comes out the other side. She screams, a high-pitched unearthly noise vibrating out through her dual-pointed teeth. The motion of her pulling backward wrenches the handle of the machete out of Cas's hand.
Back on his feet, Cas leaps at her again, desperately trying to regain his hold on the machete while dodging her claws. He finally grasps the hilt solidly and yanks as hard as he can – it comes free with a disgusting squelch as her claws rake through his shoulder, tearing the fabric of his shirt and his flesh beneath it.
And suddenly, he's looking down the barrel of his own gun.
Somehow, she'd grabbed the gun from where he dropped it, and he hadn't noticed. Stupid, stupid, rookie mistake.
She's panting, hissing through her giant serrated teeth, and bleeding from the two massive wounds in her torso. Wounds that would have killed almost anything else. Cas feels the searing sting of his own injuries – the lacerations in his neck and shoulder, the bite mark on his arm – and he backs up as she inches closer.
Over her shoulder, he can see Claire and Donna at last sawing the head off the smaller female. The Nachzehrer who's holding him at gunpoint doesn't change, doesn't transform back into a human, which means she's the alpha of the nest. She advances again, making him back up further, until the heel of his boot hits the lower concrete barrier along the very edge of the roof.
She clicks the hammer of the gun, her eyes flashing in the sunlight.
Claire appears from behind, slamming a fistful of pennies into the alpha's mouth. The hit makes the alpha's hand squeeze reflexively, a single gunshot echoing out over the industrial sprawl ten stories below them. Cas flinches at the noise, and in the same instant Donna removes the alpha's head from her shoulders. The Nachzehrer's body falls unceremoniously, blood splattering out from her gaping neck and turning the concrete crimson.
Cas lets out a huff of relief, feeling dizzy. "Thanks," he says. "Are you both okay?"
Donna stops short, her victorious grin fading. Claire is staring at him, eyes wide, her expression melting from ferocity to terror.
"Cas!" Claire shrieks.
Cas frowns in confusion. "What—?" It's at that moment that he realizes that his chest hurts, inside and outside, and it's radiating outward. He looks down and sees a small bullet hole, just to the left of his breastbone. A red poppy blossoming in the fabric of his shirt. "...Oh."
The edges of his vision blur as lightheadedness sweeps in. He can feel his legs about to give out, but there's no time to do anything about it.
Claire runs toward him, crying his name and reaching for him. His knees buckle before she can get to him, and he tips backwards. The last thing he sees is her face, and then he tumbles over the edge of the roof and falls into empty space. The last thing he hears is her screaming.
Cas feels no pain when he hits the ground. He doesn't feel his bones snap into unfixable angles, or his insides as they're destroyed by sheer gravity. He doesn't feel anything.
Somehow, it's both a short and very, very long time before he finds himself standing a few yards away from his own body. Everything is peaceful and quiet.
"I wasn't expecting you to die so soon," says a voice to his left.
Cas turns, and joy bursts forth from his chest so intensely that he's sure he's glowing. Jack is standing beside him, as youthful as the day he left. "Jack!" Cas cries, and engulfs him in a hug.
Jack returns the embrace, smiling into Cas's shoulder.
Cas doesn't see Claire and Donna running out of the building behind him. He doesn't hear Claire screaming, or Donna trying to comfort her. He doesn't see the halo of blood around his head, or the feathered splashes from underneath him.
"It's time to go, Castiel," Jack says, standing back with his hand on Cas's chest.
Cas swallows. He knows it's time. He feels ready. "What about them?" he asks.
Jack looks past him to where Claire is sobbing into Donna's arms. "They will be fine, just as you were."
"Do you do this for everyone?" Cas has to ask, because he knows human souls find their way to their destination just fine without divine interference.
"No." Jack shakes his head. "But you are my father."
Cas blinks back tears. He's not sad, not at all. He's blissfully overwhelmed. And he's missed Jack so, so much.
"Is there anything you'd like to do before you go?" Jack offers.
Cas draws a deep breath, though he feels no air in his lungs. "I'd like to see my family. Just for a minute."
Jack nods once, and suddenly they're in Sam and Eileen's back yard outside of Kansas City. Sam, Eileen, and Dean are playing soccer together, laughing and running. They don't know that Cas is dead; they haven't gotten that call yet. Miracle, old and riddled with arthritis, lays contentedly on the porch as they play.
"They'll be okay too," Jack says, leaning against the fence behind where Cas is standing.
"I know." Cas watches as Sam tumbles into the grass and Dean, already impossibly tall for his age, jumps on him. "I just wanted a memory to bring with me."
They stand there for a few more minutes, until Cas finally straightens. A sublime calm spreads through him. He doesn't have to tell Jack that he's ready to leave. Jack knows.
He presses two fingers to Cas's forehead, and the fabric of this world rolls away.
When Cas opens his eyes again, he's standing on the side of a road surrounded by towering coniferous forests. It's the middle of the night and he's beneath a solitary lamp post, the only one in sight. Overhead, the blackness glitters with the light of a million stars, the entire Milky Way splashed across the skies above. To the east, the full moon is just rising from behind a distant mountain. The air here is crisp and sweet, heavy with pine.
He's alone, but he's not cold or frightened. And he doesn't have to wait long.
A pair of headlights appears from around the bend, the familiar rumbling of the engine drawing closer as Cas's heart begins to beat more quickly. He'd know this car anywhere.
The Impala pulls to a stop in front of him, and Dean – his Dean – leans out of the driver's window. "Need a ride?"
"Dean," Cas says, a single broken syllable.
Dean gets out of the car, shutting the door behind him. He takes two steps, crossing the distance between them, and pulls Cas into a kiss. Cas clings to Dean's shirt, his hands digging into his shoulder blades as Dean's fingers wind through his hair.
It feels just like their first kiss, all those years ago.
Dean is the one to come up for air first, pressing his forehead to Cas's. "Took you long enough," he whispers with Cas's palm on his cheek.
Cas refuses to let go. Dean is here and he's solid under Cas's touch for the first time in far, far too long.
"Come on," Dean beckons. "Let's get you home."
Cas lets his head fall on Dean's shoulder, in the crook of his neck, relishing in the warmth pulsing from Dean's body. He's not ready to leave this moment yet. "I want to stay here."
Dean presses another reassuring kiss to Cas's temple. "Hey," he says softly, making Cas look up. "We've got all the time in the world."
The stars shimmer up above against the painted sky and the world around them is full of life, colorful even in the dark.
"Come on," Dean says again, reaching for Cas's hand. "Let's go home."
NOTE: This fic is tied into my other works The Matador, Mystery of the Quotient, Candlelight, Pie Crust, and Unchained Reaction. If you liked this story, I hope you'll check them out as well. Thank you!