Dean looked down at the pills in his hand for the second time that hour, debating on whether he should take the easy way out. He pressed one onto his tongue, not swallowing yet, but tempted, wondering. It would be simple, just write a note, swallow and lie down to sleep. And then never wake up.
He would see his mother, his father, Bobby, maybe Charlie and Kevin and everybody else he had lost over the years. Dean closed his eyes; knowing that no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't swallow those pills, take the easy way out because Sam. Sammy was his anchor, his railing, the only thing keeping him from falling off that tall, dark ledge into mourning and suicide. He couldn't leave Sam, it was his job, his job, to take care of his brother. Sam had told him one million years or a few days ago- time didn't matter now- that if Dean killed himself he could follow suit. Dean would be responsible for that, he would have not only his own blood on his hands but the blood of the one person currently alive that he loved. He poured the twenty or so pills back into the bottle and set it back on the shelf.
Sam heard the sound of the cabinet opening again, the pitter of pills falling back into a bottle and the cabinet closing. He leaned his head against the wall, hearing the shower start to run, and let out a broken sigh. Dean was hurting, Dean was breaking, and Sam didn't know how to fix him, and that was one of his worst fears.
Sam closed his eyes, wishing once again that maybe, just maybe, God could do one favor for him. After all the shit You put us through, he thought angrily, could you just fucking fix my brother?
Cas jerked awake in a forested area. He groaned, pushing himself up from the dirt and staggering to a nearby tree, using it to support his weight as his head stopped spinning. He looked around, slowly but surely recognizing his surroundings. He was near the Bunker but his sense of direction was poor and he was unsure of which way to go.
Then he heard voices arguing. Cas felt his heart flip flop as he heard Dean's voice, low and annoyed and so, so tired and absolutely done. He couldn't make out everything he was saying but he caught his name in the mix.
"Dammit Dean," Sam swore angrily. "You know what? I heard you, I know what you were thinking about doing!"
"But I didn't do it!" Dean retaliated. "Okay, Sam, I'm okay."
"You really aren't," Sam said, wishing his brother would be a little less stupid. "And you haven't been since you found out Cas had said yes!"
"No shit Sam, I care about Cas! But I'm okay, I'm not going to kill myself, promise." Dean's voice trembled. "I promise," he repeated.
"I don't know if I can trust that." Sam passed a hand over his eyes, feeling them burning with tears.
Cas vaguely heard the words "kill myself" and his heart missed a beat. He didn't know what context the words were used in but it scared him to think of either of the brothers doing that. He cleared his throat, it felt dry and warm.
"Dean," he tried but his voice was hoarse and broken. "Dean!" Stronger this time, louder. The voices stopped.
Dean could have sworn that he heard Cas's voice. Maybe he was just going crazy but Sam's eyes were wide and he was still. "You hear that?" Sam asked, eyes never leaving the trees.
Dean wordlessly nodded and began to walk over, hardly breathing, hardly daring to think. It couldn't be Cas, there was no possible way he survived those things tearing at him, Dean had felt it, the pain, the emptiness. He knew, possibly better than anyone, that Cas had died. He wasn't coming back this time, was he?
"Dean-" Sam made to grab Dean's hand and pull him back but Dean narrowly avoided it. "Dean, it could be something dangerous."
Dean shook his head. He didn't care at this point. "Who said that?" he shouted into the trees.
"Dean," came a soft voice. "Dean, it's me."
Dean felt his heart stop when the raggedy, dirty, haggard, figure emerged from the forest. He was leaning on the trees for support but Dean knew it was him. Cas's perfect blue eyes flicked up to Dean's face and almost immediately Dean felt the gaping hole inside him, the part of himself he had lost when Cas had died, start to fill in.
"Cas," he whispered, not believing his eyes but his heart, newly repaired. "Cas..."
"How can you be sure?" Sam asked, suddenly beside Dean.
Dean's eyes never left Cas. "I know Sammy."
"How?"
Dean didn't answer that, instead he rushed up to the Angel on shaky legs, stopping feet from him. "Cas," he whispered. "How?"
Cas didn't answer. Instead he said, voice suddenly stronger, "it doesn't matter right now." And pushed himself up enough to wrap his arms around Dean's neck and kiss him hard and passionately.
Fireworks exploded under Dean's eyelids. He felt the Angel's beating heart under his clothes, felt the warmth of Cas's body pressed against him. He let his hands rest on the small of Cas's back, let his body relax against Cas's. He kissed back, roughly and with so much love.
Cas felt a rush of strength fill him and he pushed Dean against a tree, desperate for more contact, pressed his body up against the taller mans, completely oblivious to Sam's half smile and the picture he sent to Crowley, titled, 'you owe me ten dollars, it finally happened.'
He felt Dean gasp as Cas gently bit at his lip, pleading entrance into his mouth, but thankfully, allowed.
Somewhere down in Hell Crowley checked his messages, swearing as he saw the image Sam had texted him. "Bollocks," he muttered.
"What happened?" Rowena asked from her seat across from her son, sipping her tea.
Wordlessly, Crowley passed her the phone. Rowena's face lit up, she tossed her long red hair over her shoulder. "Guess you owe me money too Fergus."
Crowley sighed, shaking his head.
Sam coughed loudly, watching with glee as the two jumped apart, looking very awkward. "Hate to break that up," he said, letting a smile overtake his face. "But I want to welcome back my friend too, Dean."
Dean nodded, flustered. "Oh yeah, sure. Sorry."
Cas grinned, walking into Sam's hunched embrace and returning it with a vigor that filled Sam's heart with compassion for his friend. "It's good to have you back," he whispered into Cas's shoulder.
"I missed you," Cas said softly. "You and Dean."
"We missed you too. Thank God you came back when you did, I'm not sure how much longer he could have held out."
Cas stepped back but left one hand on Sam's shoulder. "Thank you for making sure he kept going."
"I was kinda obligated to do that," Sam smiled. "Welcome back man."
"Thanks."
"So," Dean appeared beside Sam. "I don't mean to be rude or break anything up but how the Hell did you get back man? I felt you die."
"God does work in mysterious ways, I can tell you that much," Cas replied. Then, seeing the exasperated looks on the brothers faces, he smiled and added, "I saw Him, He brought me back."
"You saw God?" Sam asked incredulously. "W-what did He look like? What did He say?"
"Sam," Dean said. "Calm down. He can't reply if you don't let him talk."
Cas shot him a grateful look. "He was Chuck, the Prophet. The one who wrote the Supernatural books."
"Chuck?" Both Sam and Dean almost shouted.
"Wait," Dean said. "Messy, alcoholic, crap writer, Chuck?"
"That's the one," Cas said gravely. "I couldn't believe it."
"Yeah," Sam muttered. "Dammit! Why didn't he ever do anything about...anything?"
"He must have had a plan," Cas replied. "After we...talked is too civil a word...after I raged at him, he gave both Asmodei and I one wish."
"You wished to come back?" Dean asked.
Cas cast his eyes towards the dirt and shook his head.
"Then what did you wish for?" Sam pressed. "Cas, come on, you can tell us anything."
"I wished for it to be over," Cas said in a barely audible voice. "I wished for hunting to be over, for you both to live your life's without the constant threat of death. I wished that you were done, that you could settle down, maybe a salt and burn here and there, but nothing more, no Armageddon, no more Demons to kill. I just wanted you to be safe."
Dean felt his heart contract painfully. Slowly, painfully tenderly, he took Cas's hand and squeezed it, not caring about Sam seeing it because he knew his brother wouldn't judge. "Thanks," he murmmered. "But how are you back then?"
"Asmodei gave me his wish," Cas explained, forcing his voice to go louder. "He told me to go back because he just wanted me to be happy. I told Chuck that I wanted to keep my Angel abilities but I wanted to be mortal, to age, and, eventually, to die. I also can return to Heaven, and bring people with me even if they are alive. I saw...I saw your parents."
"You did?" Dean asked, nervously awaiting what was next. "And-?"
"They wished us their best, John didn't like me much. Mary reminded me of you."
Dean closed his eyes. "So we can see them?"
"As soon as Amara's damage fully leaves me, my Grace is still weak at the moment. Chuck could not cure that."
"And Jess?" Sam asked, his voice trembling. "She's there?"
"Yes," Cas answered with a soft smile. "I'll take you to her as soon as I can."
"Thank you," Sam said softly, trying to steady his voice.
"And in the meantime, you need to rest," Dean said, squeezing Cas's hand. "Get your strength back."
"I'm fine Dean," Cas insisted. "I'm well enough. It's only using my Grace that weakens me. As long as I stick to human activities I should be fine."
"Right," Sam said innocently, a smile on his face. "Do you want me to leave or..."
Dean stiffened at the question then relaxed as Cas gently pressed into his side. "Yeah," he said. "That might be a good idea."
