It took a month for Cas to fully recover from the strain of both Eden and Amara. During that time Sam and Dean had taken on a salt and burn case, grateful that Cas had arranged it for them to have a few cases here and there as they would get cabin fever if they didn't.
Over the period of time Cas seemed to be getting better, day by day, week by week, the attacks would lesson in strength and leave him still able to stand on his own. Dean, being the conceded boyfriend (though he hated the title 'boyfriend') that he was, insisted on staying by Cas's side when ever he could. Sam would sigh and shake his head and sit in the library for hours on end, making it his goal to read the entire thing.
When Cas was tired of Dean looking over his shoulder, asking him how he was, the Angel would appear beside Sam, commenting on the book or simply just sitting there. Sam didn't know if he would ever admit it, but having Cas there was comforting. Every once and a while Cas would pause his reading to notify Sam of a bit of incorrect information he had found, making sure Sam would cross out the lines in books saying Angels did not exist or did not know human emotions. Sam would laugh and thank him, once again turning down the offer Cas had made of transferring all the information in the library to Sam's head without him having to read the entire thing. Sam insisted that it was fun to look through the knowledge of the ancient Men and Women of Letters.
Gabriel and Lucifer popped in several times over the month, checking on Cas, asking him questions. They still had not returned to Heaven, though according to Lucifer, they planned on it. Eventually. And once they were satisfied that Cas and the Winchesters were alright, they would sit and talk with Cas for hours on end, and Cas, grateful to see his brothers, laughed and smiled and joked, happier than he had ever been.
And sometimes, after Sam had gone out for a drink, he would come back early and find Cas and Dean curled up on the couch asleep, the credits to Indiana Jones, or Star Wars rolling. It had taken him a while because Angels did not need sleep, but Cas had finally adopted the habit, but only when he was next to Dean or extremely exhausted from his attacks. And every time Sam saw them like that, he snapped a picture, vowing he would show it to his parents when Cas regained strength.
When Sam noticed Cas move to Dean's room permanently, he didn't tease them, just offered to help Dean move his stuff down the hallway to a bigger room. Dean declined, wanting his room to remain close to Sam's just in case anything happened. When Cas wore Dean's clothes around the bunker Sam didn't say anything, and he never, ever teased them. It was hard enough for Dean to openly show love and Sam didn't want to say anything that would halt or reverse the progress Dean had made in showing affection for people other than Sam. He didn't talk to Dean about Cas or to Cas about Dean, for that matter, unless one of them brought up the subject of the other.
Dean was happier than he had ever been, Sam was safe, Cas was safe, and finally, finally, he could love freely, he could breathe without the worry for everyone he loved restricting his breath. Every night, before he and Cas went to sleep, Dean would get up and stand in Sams doorway for a minute or two, reassuring himself his little brother was okay, completely safe. And once and a while one of the three of them would wake up with a scream in their throat and a horrifying memory on their mind. When Sam woke up screaming, Dean was beside him in an instant, Cas waiting outside, knowing he shouldn't interfere with the brothers. When it was bad, Dean would lie next to Sam until his little brother drifted off into a pleasant, calm sleep, as if his big brother had chased off the monsters he had been fighting his entire life.
If Dean woke up thrashing and crying out, Cas would wrap his arms around the man, resting a palm above where the mark would be, holding him close while Sam would talk to him, reassuringly, calmingly. He would just talk when it was bad, for hours, talk about when they were little, about the people they saved, and occasionally about Stanford, the things he learned, and Dean would stop shaking, his muscles would relax, and the terror in his eyes and heart would fade as the arms of his Angel and his brother lulled him to sleep.
Cas was always more difficult. It was as if everything he had ever done wrong, everyone he had ever hurt, was pouring down on him in a tremendous wave of blood and pain. He would wake up, shaking and sobbing silently, Deans arms latched around him, reassuring him that he's saved so many more people than he's hurt, telling him how much he was loved, by him and Sam. Cas would shake his head, bury his face in the pillow or in Deans chest, insist it was his curse, that he hurt everyone he'd tried to save, no matter how many times Dean told him he had only done what he thought was right. Then Dean would press a soft kiss to his forehead or cheek and whisper, "well I'd rather have you, cursed or not." And Cas would slowly close his eyes again, softly murmuring the words 'I love you' in Dean's chest until he drifted back to sleep.
The theory that Sam had about nightmares striking now, when they were done, was that they no longer had worry and fear to mask how much pain was hidden inside each of them. With nothing else to stress about, their brains had found the only thing to now was to bring up everything wrong they had ever done, everyone they had ever killed. It was some weird form of PTSD, Sam knew from online research, that was all he told Dean and Cas, not wanting to worry Dean about the internal pain Sam had locked up. Thankfully, Dean had bought the lie, commenting that that was kinda to be expected from around thirty years of continuous hunting and stress.
One late afternoon, while the three of them were marathon watching the Lord of The Rings movies, Cas sat up quickly, sending Dean's arm flying, his blue eyes were wide.
"Cas?" Dean asked, alarmed. "What is it?"
Sam paused the movie, looking over at Cas, concerned. "You okay?" he asked worriedly.
Cas didn't speak, he couldn't speak. It felt like his insides were on fire, like his Grace was screaming in agony. He let out a broken sentence, forcing it out from between clenched teeth. "My Grace..." he whispered. "Fighting...the darkness inside...me...I'm...okay...it...just hurts!"
"What do I do?" Dean asked, his fear plain on his face. "Cas, answer me!"
Cas grit his teeth, eyes watering. He shook his head, hoping to convey the message 'I don't know.' Dean seemed to understand and gently took Cas's hand in his, rubbing circles on his knuckles. Cas felt his hand relax under Deans calloused fingers.
"Is this helping?" Dean asked, body tense. "Cas?"
Sam watched, eyes wide and scared for his friend. He didn't interfere, knowing Dean would be better at knowing what to do for Cas in this moment.
Cas nodded in response to Dean's question. The fire was flaring up inside him, making his body shiver without reason, making his limbs twitch, his chest too tight to breath.
"It's helping," Dean said to himself. "Okay..." Slowly and gently, very gently, he stood up and loosely wrapped Cas in his arms, holding him against his chest. "Try and match my breathing." He took a slow breath in and released it, continuing the pattern until he felt Cas beginning to copy it. "Hang in there Cas, hang in there. It'll be alright."
It took a total of five minutes for Cas to finally sink to the floor, the pain gone from his body. Dean pulled a blanket from the sofa and wrapped it around the Angels shoulders. "You good?" he asked as Sam scrambled over to his brother and Cas.
"Cas, man, what the Hell was that?"
Cas looked up at them, a weak smile on his face. "I beat it," he whispered. "My Grace beat the darkness Amara left in me."
Dean looked like he was about to pass out from relief and Sam squeezed his arm. "You good Dean?"
"I'm good," Dean murmured. "You gave me a heart attack Cas."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Sam told him. "That's great news! Your Grace is clean now?"
"I believe so."
Sam closed his eyes. "So that means..."
Cas nodded. "Yes Sam, tomorrow I can take you to your parents and Jess."
"You up for that?" Dean asked but it was easy to hear the longing in his voice. "You look like your about to pass out."
"It's really not bad," Cas insisted. "The only damage really just left me tired. Tomorrow I should be perfectly fine."
"Okay..." Dean nodded. "Let's get you up. Sam, help me."
Together, they hefted Cas up by his arms, Dean taking more weight as Cas unconsciously leaned into him. They half carried, half dragged Cas to Dean's room where they heaved him up on the bed. Dean leaned over him, pushing his hair from his face and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "I'll be back in bit," he whispered. "Rest."
Cas watched him with blurry eyes and nodded. Slowly, Dean left the room to stand with Sam outside the door.
"Dude," Sam whispered, his eyes bright. "We get to see our parents!"
Dean nodded. "I know, I just...I can't believe it..." He ran a hand over his face. "We get to see Charlie, Bobby, and Kevin too, remember? Cas told us they were there.
"Yeah." They were silent for a moment before Sam continued. "I need to apologize to Kevin and Charlie. It was my fault."
"Dammit Sammy," Dean snapped. "We've been over this. It was neither of our faults entirely, it was a big ass mess from the beginning but in the end we both should have known it was not a smart idea."
Sam nodded, not entirely happy with how they had decided to split the blame but smiled. "God, I can't wait." He felt his eyes sting but looked up, forcing the tears to back away. "Mom..."
"I know," Dean said, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. His green eyes were wet, his smile pained and overjoyed and almost sad. "I know."
AN: Yay! We get to see John, Mary, Bobby, Kevin, Charlie, and Jess next chapter! Hope you enjoy!
