Everyone is back.
Bobby, Charlie, Donna, Eileen.
Everyone. Right back where they were when they got snapped.
Sam embraces Eileen, tears running down his face.
Charlie shoots a questioning look at Dean, a look that says what the hell happened? but he just shakes his head and pulls her in, blinking hard to keep from crying.
They make their way back to the bunker, feeling lighter than they have in...well, ever. The biggest bad to ever bad has been defeated and the new God is basically their son so, #blessed or whatever it is the kids are saying these days.
Sam disappears off with Eileen. Dean walks into the library and stops.
What now?
He should be happy.
He is happy.
They defeated Chuck. No evil hanging over their heads. No one pulling their strings. They're free.
Free to do what?
He collapses into a chair and stares at the initials carved into the table.
Everything he has been avoiding thinking about.
Everything he has been avoiding feeling.
There is nothing, now, to focus on. There is nothing to distract him.
His mind takes him back. To the despair he'd felt when they'd barricaded themselves in the dungeon. Realizing that Chuck had been responsible. That he was going to die there with Cas. That everybody was going to die. And he couldn't do a damned thing.
And then the hope. When Cas had turned and started telling him about The Empty.
...
I made a deal to save him.
The shock at first, at hearing that Cas had made a deal. The worry that had risen up in him at what it could possibly be
The price was my life. When I experienced a moment of true happiness
The fear at hearing what the price was. And then confusion at why he was bringing it up now.
I wondered what it could be, because the one thing I want...it's something I know I can't have.
Possibilities flew through his mind. What is it that he wants that he can't have? Getting his wings back maybe? Restoring heaven? Rejoining his kind in his home? Another thought crept forth but he had pushed it away. No way could Dean Winchester be the cause of an actual angel's happiness.
But I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it.
Saying it. Saying what? What could Cas possibly have to say to Dean that would let him be happy? A small morsel of hope had begun to bloom in his chest but he tamped down on it. In no way would this lead there. In no universe would Castiel's happiness include him.
I know how you see yourself, Dean.
No.
You're destructive and you're angry and you're broken.
No.
That's what drives you. That's who you are.
I AM broken. So what is this?
It's not.
No.
Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love.
No.
That is who you are.
He was having trouble computing. The kernel of hope in his chest was expanding but his mind was still refusing to accept that Cas meant anything of what he was saying.
and ever since I pulled you out of Hell, knowing you has changed me.
Knowing Dean had destroyed him. Knowing Dean had gotten him killed, made him weak, damaged and destroyed, vaporized and crazy and hunted and vilified. Knowing Dean had taken an angel that was capable of astounding feats and chained him to a life of pain and misery.
I cared about the whole world because of you.
There were tears sliding down his cheeks. Dean had never seen Castiel cry.
I love you.
His mind raced. How could this awesome, powerful, celestial being take one look at Dean Winchester and think he was worthy of this? How could this literal angel believe that sacrificing himself for Dean was even remotely the right thing to do. He begged Cas not to do it. Not to leave Dean with this. Because there was no way he could live up to the person Castiel saw him as.
A creeping, liquid sound from behind him made him turn and there it was, The Empty.
So it must be true.
He turned back.
Billie broke through the warding on the door.
He needed to say something.
What could he say?
Time was running out.
Goodbye, Dean.
...
He has thought a lot about it, in the intervening days. What would he have said? Words had never been his strong suit. He was a man of action. But there had been no time for that either.
He has never thought of himself as a good person. Has always figured his role was to hunt monsters so that other people didn't have to. Spending forty years in hell certainly hadn't helped in that regard and it had only gotten worse, first the Mark of Cain, then the Darkness. If there is one thing Dean knows, it's that he is not, has never been, worthy of anyone's love.
Especially not that of an angel.
And yet Castiel professing his love for Dean is what had called The Empty. It had made him happy enough for the deal to be completed.
When Chuck had looked up at him and called him a killer, it had thrown him right back into that quagmire of self-loathing except this time, the hope that had bloomed had taken root. He hadn't really thought about it before he'd said it. That's not who I am. It had taken him aback a little to realize that he actually believed it.
He stares down at the initials and pulls out his knife.
Footsteps echo in the empty halls of the bunker.
He looks up.
"Hello Dean."
Dean sits, paralyzed.
"Cas."
The angel smiles.
"How…"
"Jack."
Dean stands on shaking legs, his breathing shallow.
"He told me what happened."
He takes a few tentative steps forward, thinking for sure that any moment he is going to wake up or Cas is going to disappear or he's going to turn out to be Lucifer…again.
"How you guys saved the wor-"
The hope that had been born the moment Castiel said out loud everything that they had been dancing around all these years, that had faltered when he'd opened the bunker door after it had carried him in a mad dash up the stairs, but had not died, that had instead, fueled him to keep going, to be kinder to himself, blooms so brightly and Dean picks up speed, careening into the angel and pulling him tight with everything that he has.
He lets out a stuttering breath. He can feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes but for once, he doesn't try to hold them back. He feels Cas's arms wrap around him and he sighs into it. He feels Cas's eyelashes brush his neck and he presses his cheek against the angel's hair.
They stand in silence, holding onto each other.
"You can have it."
He mumbles it into Castiel's trenchcoat. Cas pulls back.
"What did you say?"
Dean knows there are tear tracks on his face but he makes no move to wipe them away. It is time to stop running, time to stop deflecting, time to stop ignoring what is right in front of him. He'd just stood up to God, he can do this.
The angel in front of him believes he can do this.
"You can have it. All of it."
Castiel frowns and his head tilts. Dean laughs and rolls his eyes.
"I love you too, you idiot."
Cas looks shocked, his eyes wide. And then he surges forward, and Dean meets him in the middle.
It isn't groundbreaking or earth-shattering. There aren't fireworks, or cannons, or explosions.
It feels like watching the highway stretch out into the sunset with the windows rolled down.
It feels like that first sip of water had after he'd clawed his way out of hell.
It feels like sitting on a dock in the sun, fishing.
It feels calm and serene and perfect. Like everything has slotted into place and the world has let out a great sigh of relief.
They're interrupted by Sam's pounding footsteps.
"Hey, Dean! Have you seen-"
He cuts off as he skids into the room and stops.
He stares at them. They stare back, Foreheads pressed together and Dean's hand still on Cas' cheek.
"Cas."
"Hello Sam."
Sam lets out a few shocked breaths before his face breaks into a wide grin.
"About fucking time." He lets out a soft laugh of relief.
Dean lets out a laugh too, closing his eyes and pressing a kiss to Cas's forehead and then turning back to his brother.
"You wanted something?"
"Not important," he shakes his head, "I guess I'll leave you guys to it."
He turns to leave and then turns back.
"I'm really happy for you guys."
Dean tamps down on the instinct to turn and run from the sheer volume of emotions currently happening in his vicinity and instead nods.
"Thank you Sam." Castiel answers for the both of them.
"It's good to have you back Cas."
"It's good to be back."
Sam looks to Dean.
"Hey, Dean?"
Dean braces himself for whatever is about to come.
"Yeah?"
Sam's eyes soften.
"I'm proud of you."
The urge to run from the moment is strong but he fights against it and nods, his eyes swimming with tears. Castiel's hand squeezes his shoulder and he feels safer, braver.
He clears his throat.
"Thanks." He says softly, looking back at his brother.
They share a moment before Dean has had enough and breaks eye contact, "Now get out of here, bitch." He is only so strong.
Sam chuckles, "Whatever, jerk."
He disappears off into the halls of the bunker with one last smile. Dean turns back to Cas who is looking at him like he is the center of the whole universe. Dean feels that warm swell of hope calm to a placid ocean of love and he lets himself just sit and bask in it.
No more running.
Happy to just be.