Notes: You can check out my Tumblr - agentoflupa - for full details on my opinion of the finale, but to put it simply, I'm suffering, you're suffering, J2M are suffering, it just left me a bit broken. So this is highly self indulgent, but feel free to enjoy! It picks up at the end of 15x19 and just goes on a long path that is so far from canon it's another universe
Dean breathed in the sound of people, noise, chatter, life. The worst part of everyone being dead was the silence. It was far easier to lose your emotions in a crowd rather than a silence so profound, you can hear your heart pumping. And Dean could hear his heart breaking.
Because he had been trying so hard to hide his feelings. He had tried to get as much anguish out of his system as possible in the room where Cas had died and then put on the brave face he had been practicing since his mother died that fateful night.
With Chuck still at large, it was easy. All of him was invested in The Plan. Then came the phone call. The mask had almost slipped then, when he heard Cas' voice, and he had rushed up the stairs. But it had been that dick Lucifer, and when Dean realized he wasn't back from the dead, it felt like watching him die all over again.
But then came their plan to depower God. That had provided an excellent distraction for however long it had taken. But that was finished, and Jack had fazed out of this plane, up to heaven. And now there was no barrier between him and a lifetime of repressed heartache and tragedy.
"So what now?" asked Sam quietly. And that was what did it. Because what would they do now? They had lost everything in a battle that killed God himself. They had lost Eileen, and Charlie. And Cas. He had lost Cas. And that opened the floodgates. His body shook with silent, barely contained sobs. He ran a had over his face, covering half of it, similar to hiw he had been when Cas first died.
After a few seconds of realizing the that Dean hadn't replied, he turned around.
"Dean? Dean!"
Sam's arms closed around Dean's shaking body, rubbing his arms up and down his brother's back. He manoeuvred him over to the car, opened the back seat, and gently pushed him inside. Once they were both in, Sam tried to pull Dean's hand away from his mouth, but to no avail.
"Shh. Shh. It's okay Dean. You have to let it out. Let go." But Dean was still vibrating with the effort of keeping quiet, so Sam climbed into the front seat and started driving. It was only a short way back to the bunker. Once at the entrance, Sam pulled Dean to his feet and inside.
Once down in the main room, he set Dean down on the floor. Then after fetching him a drink of water, he returned, thinking he would have to pull his brother's hand away again. But Dean had already done that. He was practically convulsing with sobs, rocking back and forth, hitting his hand against the wall.
Sam came up carefully behind him and wrapped his arms around him. After nearly 20 minutes, Dean's cries had subsided, and he had only nearly punched Sam twice, and broken one glass. That had been scary, when had not only broken the glass, but grabbed at the shards, slicing his palms open. That had caused Sam to lead Dean back to his bedroom, stopping only to pick up from storage the large blanket that only came out when they were ill or hurt. He wrapped Dean in it, and placed him on his bed.
After a few minutes of silence, Sam spoke. "What's wrong Dean? I mean, we won. Jack's God. Everyone's back-"
"Cas isn't!" shouted Dean, using actual words for the first time in the last hour. "He's gone! And it's my fucking fault!"
Slightly alarmed, but now very much interested, Sam bit. "Dean, how on Earth is it your fault. Dean's voice turned low.
"D'you know how he... went?" stumbled Dean. Sam shook his head. "We were locked in that room, with Billie knocking down the door, and then Cas starts telling me that he can summon the Empty. That he made a deal," at the point Dean stopped to take a long slow breath, voice hollow ", a deal with the Empty for Jack's life. The deal was, if he was ever truly happy, the Empty would come and get him. Like an Angel/Angeleus thing. Then he starts going on about the meaning of true happiness, and how I'm an amazing person and stuff." Dean's voice was nothing but a dead whisper. "And then he told me he loved me. Course then the Empty comes. Sucks up Billie. Sucks up him. He's gone Sammy."
Sam was silent for a moment, still shell shocked.
"Did you love him back?"
"Yeah. Didn't act like it at times, repressed it, confused by it. But yeah. And now he's gone. And I want to be gone too."
"No! Never, ok? You've still got me."
"But I don't have him! Why is it that I only ever get left with one person? It's not fair!
And I have to keep pretending that it's all ok, and it's not okay, and I just wanna -" But then he just trailed off, and sank intk the pillow.
They sat together on the bed for a few more minutes, before there was a crash downstairs. Sam reached for the gun in his belt, while Dean reached under his pillow.
They crept down the stairs, into the main room, around the broken glass and into the kitchen. Dean's hand tightened on the trigger. He may be only 20 after a mental breakdown, but his trigger finger was sharp as always. That had been drilled into him from a very young age: "even if the rest of you is broken, it don't matter as long as you can shoot straight".
As the turned into the kitchen, they found an incredibly large box. Bright pink, covered in glitter, with an envelope on top.
They knocked once on the box, then sprang back. It didn't move. Sam grabbed the envelope from the top of the box. There was a card inside. It read, in a fancy swirling script
Dear Sammoose and Deano!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Sorry about that, the shop didn't have any Congratulations for saving everything! cards, so this will have to work. I could have made one, but I'm a little low on juice. As the official messanger, I've come to deliver something. A little thank you on the behalf of everything. Sammy my Sammy, please make sure your less handsome brother doesn't faint.
Love ya!!
Sam set the card down. "Is it me, or did that sound like Gabriel?"
"Yes, but dead."
"Well by that standard, we are massive hypocrites."
Dean shrugged. "Well if it is Gabriel, be prepared for an avalanche of sweets or puppies." He reached for the large 'pull here to open' tag, and yanked.
The box opened in almost slow motion, unfurling one panel at a time. Once it was done, it revealed a chair. A chair with a person bound to it with strawberry laces. A person in a dirty trench coat.
"Cas?"
"Got it in one Deano! You like the present?" called a voice from behind them.
Gabriel sat cross legged on the counter,
twirling a lollipop in his mouth. He hoped down, and grinned.
"Gabriel!" Sam choked out.
"The very same! I must say, I'm impressed. The amount of birds you've flipped at dear old Dad since my untimely heroic demise could fill an aviary!"
"Is Cas your idea? Bringing him back?" asked Sam. Dean remained frozen.
"Wish I could take credit, but I think that was Jack's idea. He brought me back too. To tell the truth, I'm proud of the kid. God is quite an upgrade."
There was an awkward silence for a few more moments, then, "Well aren't you going to untie my baby bro. I tried to make his gag as nice as possible, but it's never comfortable to have your mouth rendered useless. I'd know."
Sam immediately untied the strawberry laces from Cas' mouth and limbs. Once stood up, Sam hugged him, clapping him on the back. Cas then turned to Dean.
Dean ran his hand up and down Cas' arm, before letting out a shaky breath, and pulling him close. Unlike Sam he did not clap him on the back. This time round, he would try to drop the pretence.