Various religious leaders have attempted and continue to attempt, to communicate the human belief of an afterlife to the angels. Sadly, none seem to have responded with interest, and they firmly assert that to their knowledge, no human soul has ever entered Heaven.
Questions as to whether it would be possible for a human to enter Heaven whilst alive and examine the habitat of angels have been met with a firm refusal. Even those angels who, unlike the rest of their kin, communicate freely with humans appear to be extremely private in regard of what they call their "nest".
Tobias Metcalf, Houses and Nests – on the inability to communicate properly with the Messengers of God, Angelology Magazine nr. 72/2015, p. 42
"To my knowledge, angels were surprised and quite baffled when they found out about the human concept of Heaven. Since we do not know what happens to human souls after they die, however, and Heaven is infinite, there might very well be something to the belief in the afterlife".
Dean watched as Cas once more mesmerized one of his classes, and his heart pounded in a painful rhythm, the last time, the last time, the last time.
It had done that since he'd opened the door for Cas, ten days before they were to part forever.
Making burgers for Cas that evening.
The last time.
Going to the zoo with his animal-loving friend, Cas spending too much time in the little house where they demonstrated how honey was collected.
The last time.
His surprise the next day, a trip to a bee farm outside of Lawrence, Cas' yes wide and happy, the smile on his lips, his wings stretched wide and beautiful, so beautiful.
The last time.
Forcing Cas to watch Star Wars again yesterday, only getting a few hours of sleep, but it was worth it.
The last time.
As Cas continued to explain that angels were not that different from humanity after all and that there was no reason for certain prejudices that had arisen since they had first descended to earth, Dean watched his profile, his blue eyes, his breath-taking wings, his lips moving.
Cas hadn't aged a day since they met. Still as mature, as stunning as he had been when he had become of age. He would still look this when – if – he returned. He would be mated to someone just as beautiful. And Dean, old, wrinkled, unwanted, would look at him and feel his heart break all over again, and that was if he was lucky, if he for some reason was allowed to see Cas again, one last time.
He felt eyes on him – unusual in this unit, when everyone was concentrating on the angel.
It was Krissy. She was mustering him with the pity he dreaded, and he only glanced briefly at her before acting like he was interested in what Cas had to say once more.
He'd looked after Krissy, watched out whether she showed any signs of depression after her mom had died three years back. Their similar experiences had them allowed to form a bond that was a little stronger than normal between teachers and students; he wondered when she had known, when she had put the pieces together.
He hoped she hadn't told anyone. Thank God it wasn't like her; he didn't want his heartbreak discussed at the lunch table.
After the class ended, several students hung around until they had to get to the next class, and as they left with disappointed faces, Dean laughed and patted Cas' shoulder.
"The star of the hour once more".
Cas blushed. Dean knew he shouldn't have taken pride in making him flush; Cas hated it, thought he looked stupid. In truth it was adorable.
"This year the students seemed very interested".
Dean nodded. "It's a good class".
"I'll miss them".
Dean felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Cas had told him he'd miss a lot of things in the past week. Trees. Streets. Bees.
He'd never said he'd miss a particular person, but now he'd said he'd miss Dean's students.
He had yet to say he'd miss Dean.
And Dean, stupidly, wrongly, wished Cas to miss him. Not much. Not enough to hurt. Just a little. Just enough to say it.
But Cas didn't. He just continued to smile at Dean, that soft, wistful smile, and the teacher took a deep breath and soldiered on.
They were having lunch with Sam.
Dean's younger brother had become good friends with Cas too, and he wanted to spend some more time with him as well. It was natural and understandable, and Dean hated that he felt jealous of Cas' minutes, of every last second he spent on earth.
Cas hadn't even said that he'd miss him.
Sam happily hugged Cas, as he did every time they met, and Dean wished for the same easy feelings. He'd only hugged Cas a few times over the years, and he only would once more.
He let Sam chat with Cas. It wasn't quite the he'd see of him, since Dean had organized a party of all their friends for the next evening, so that Cas didn't have to flutter around saying goodbye.
The last evening, Cas told him years ago, when Dean didn't yet dwell on farewells and lonely decades watching the sky, looking for his angel who'd never come back, he wanted to spend with Dean, only with Dean.
He told himself it was as good as a "I'll miss you" and he almost believed it.
So Cas and Sam hugged at the end of the lunch, and Dean and the angel spent the afternoon in the movies. One cinema in town had been kind enough to make seats large enough so angels would be comfortable with their wings.
Cas had a thing for children's movies, so Dean paid for the newest Disney flick, and watched Cas more than the stupid flick about some magical curse that was lifted by True Love's Kiss or something like that.
He hoped Sam wouldn't call him later. His brother had been on a quest to get him to confess his feelings for years. He seemed to think that he had a chance. All the more reason to keep his mouth shut. Not that it was true.
There was no way an angel would fall for someone like him.
He wasn't kind, or good, or noble. He wasn't particularly bright or polite, but had somehow got lucky and got into college and landed a job at a school he actually liked.
When he thought of someone who could be with Cas, he thought of someone like Sam, who'd grown up to be remarkable despite only having Dean to look after him when they were younger. Not of his pathetic self.
"Dean? Are you alright?"
Cas had noticed he wasn't watching the movie.
"I'm perfect, Cas" he said, forcing himself to look at the screen.
The last time.
The party the next day went without a hitch, except for one attempt of intervention from an unexpected quarter.
Dean believed there'd be another "Hey, brother" speech from Benny, or a passive-aggressive bitch face from Sam, or a sympathetic, tearful talk with Charlie.
Instead it was Aaron who dragged him into a corner. Freaking Aaron.
"You should tell him".
"Not going to" he replied simply.
"Why not?"
"Apart from the risk of death?"
"After many happy years together?"
"Don't, Aaron" Dean said, rubbing his temples, "Just don't".
Aaron had noticed pretty early on that Dean was in love with Cas. He supposed that he'd ended their whatever-it-had-been because it was taking up too much time he could have spent with his best friend had been a hint that couldn't be ignored. But Aaron had never really mentioned it, had taken their descent from something into friendship with a shrug and a smile.
Dean didn't think he'd do this, so the only way to deal is turn around and return to Cas' side.
Cas was giving him a strange look, and Dean was reminded that he'd always been a little distant with Aaron, even though he seemed to like the guy fine regardless.
He certainly hadn't raised objection to his presence, so Dean shook it off as one of cas' queer spells and squeezed his shoulder.
Nonetheless, he was relieved when everyone, even Cas, left. The knowledge that they all, all except the person it concerned the most, knew, and that they were waiting for him to do something, to try and condemn Cas to death, and that they all thought it would have been a good thing had been a little too much to handle.
He hoped Cas hadn't thought him too out of spirits. At least they had one more evening. Dean could leave him with a good impression, good memories.
The last evening.
The Last Evening.
He had no idea why Cas wanted to spend it like they had spent so many others. He didn't want anything special or grand; he just wanted to have dinner and some laughs with Dean, spend the night on the couch (and what he did there Dean would never know; guy didn't sleep but apparently liked to pretend to) and leave at sunrise like he had to.
Dean would stay awake. He knew Cas; if he was asleep, he wouldn't wake him. And he desperately needed these last few moments, a last smile, a last hug. He had to tell Cas that he would miss him. It was the one confession he'd allow himself.
He took a shower and laid down. It took him a long time to drift off. Cas had had to go to Heaven for some talk with his superior.
Dean never had trouble getting rest when he knew him to be in the apartment.
As he fell asleep he thought about tomorrow, the last day he would ever get with, loathe as he was to admit it, the love of his life.
Predictably, he had a nightmare.
He was old, very old. He didn't remember how old he was.
He was limping down the street, and his eyes weren't doing a very good job anymore, which was why he only recognized him after nearly running into him.
"Cas!"
It was indeed Cas, as he had last seen him, looking at him unconcerned.
"It's me. Dean".
Another angel came to stand beside Cas.
She was beautiful. Cas took her hand.
"I'm sorry. I don't know anyone named Dean".
He woke up. Tears were burning in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Later. When it was over, when Cas was gone, Dean would allow himself to cry. A short time, as befit the occasion. He was saying goodbye to a friend who was leaving to find a mate, to be happy; grieving would be wrong.
He closed his eyes and willed himself to be strong for this, for the last greeting, the last smile, the last goodbye.
He wanted to make Cas happy. He had succeeded for nine days.
He could succeed for a few more hours.
The mating of angels is a ritual that has been supposed to be similar to marriage, but sadly little corroborating evidence is to be found because most do not answer questions about what they call "a holy alliance".
Human-angel mating, while possible, has stayed rare. There have been six confirmed instances, four in Europe, one in the United States and one in Africa; all of the relationships lasting until the death of one partner and, according to the couples, very happy.
The explanation for the rarity of angel-human mating is simple. While human and angels are compatible, most angels, if pressed, admit that the price of being banned from Heaven and living a human life (except for the ability to fly) is simply too high to contemplate mating with a human. Unless members of their family (mated or unmated and younger than thirty-five) visit them, they are left on earth without any attempt of communication from Heaven and unable to try themselves.
Kenneth Palmer, The Mating Ritual – The Big Question, p. 479