Cas felt pain, and fear. He didn't have anyone to fear in this realm, and nobody was hurting him, so he guessed it was somthing coming from them, the two that called to him. It had been a long time since he felt anything but loneliness. The other angels had cast him out, because of his connection to the other world. They didn't want to feel, think or remember. They stayed away from Cas because they feared that he would infect them. They worried that his presence would scare away their precious gift of bliss. The fear, though, the fear that Cas was now feeling started reaching over the chasm between him and the other angels. They had no choice but to shove him out of heaven. And when Cas was shoved out, he could go only to one place, and that was the reality where Dean lived.
It took Castiel a few minutes to figure out how his wings worked as his body spiraled out of control, and started plummeting towards the earth. Back in the other plane of existance, Cas had no need for wings, because there had been no gravity, or sense of time or space. He was learning quickly how to use his body again, though, and he was now able to steer himself towards the soul that was calling him. He was able to reach out to Dean's mind before he showed himself in his true form.
"Dean, don't hesitate or ask questions. Just cover your face, and Sam's too. I'm coming to save you, but I don't have a vessel."
Dean listened to the voice in his head, and he knew that it was his long lost angel buddy, Castiel, somehow, back from the dead. He did as he was told, and covered both his own, and his brother's face. Sam was unconcious, but Dean knew that it was a bad thing if he came to with Cas' true form in the room.
Even though he was covering his face with his coat, and his eyes were closed the bright light coming off the angel in the room was brilliantly white. He heard some sounds that could only be described as laviathin growls. It also sounded as if several tanks were having a war. Then, all of a sudden, Dean was back in the hotel room kneeling on a bed. He was still holding Sam's face to his chest, trying to get his bearings straight. Angel transport was always such an unnerving process, made all the more unsettling because he hadn't done it in such a long time. Dean finally let go of Sam's upper body, and just plopped him on the bed.
He went to the other hotel bed and sat down, marveling on the fact that Cas was back after two years of being dead. Maybe there was an afterlife for angels after all. Maybe God had brought him back again. He didn't know how this all had happened. He just knew to be thankful, especially because him and Sam were suppose to truly and finally be done for, this time.
0-0-0-0
It took Cas an entire month to get a seventeen year old boy to say yes to him. In that time Dean was able to fully freak out, then calm down, then fully freak out again. He worried, every hour of every day, even when he didn't show it. Sam and Dean went back to Bobby's place, in the mean time. They didn't go on any hunts, or search out the laviathin in that time. Of course they felt a little guilty in neglecting their duties as hunters, but to tell the truth, they were pretty shaken up by their close call, and the close encounter of the Cas kind.
Dean just couldn't focus on something like hunting, when he was constantly being distracted by worries of where Cas had gone off to. What if this had been a freak, one time thing. Maybe he had died, and was now hallucinating this shit as some sort of freak torture in hell or something. He didn't know exactly what to think, and he was scared that Cas had gone back home, and left him here again.
Man, it was kind of scaring him how obsessed his mind was getting over the sudden appearance of Cas. He guessed that he had had a secret hope that Cas would come to save him when he needed it, same as he had always done. He felt a little less of a man, admitting to it, even if it was only to himself. It made him look like a god damn damzle in distress.
One day, in the middle of August, exactly thirty-three days after Cas' rescue, a seventeen year old boy knocked on Bobby's door. He had medium brown hair that he wore to his ears, and kind green eyes. He was really handsome, with good looks that would last even when he was done with puberty.
Dean answered the door. "May I hel-"
Dean didn't finish his sentence as he recognized who it was. He hugged Cas in a tight embrace. Eventually, Cas' arms wrapped around Dean in return. He didn't ever remember Dean showing him so much affection. He thought that Dean was braking his own rule about aproapriate space, and there wasn't even an excuse for a picture. After a minute or two, Dean thumped his back twice, and backed up.
"I was thinking that I would use the front door, so that you wouldn't think I was an intruder, since I'm wearing a different vessel."
When Dean heard Cas speak it was a little unnerving to hear. He had gotten so use to Cas wearing Jimmy Novak's meat suite, that it was strange to hear a teenager's younger voice come out. But then, he spoke with the same emotionless drone of a tone, and he knew that it was Cas again.
"Well, that was good thinking on your part," Dean replied.
"Well, why don't you come inside now," Dean said, as he wrapped his arm around the reborn angel's shoulders, "Sam isn't going to believe you're here. He thought I had made the whole thing up about our miraculous survival."
"What did he think happened?"
"Beats me. Anyway, how did you get this poor kid to agree to letting you in?"
"His parents sent him to boarding school for misbehavior. He felt that he had a lot to make up for. When I told him that I was an angel, he became worried that he wouldn't make it to heaven when he died. So he turned his life over to me, the lord's angel, to make up for his misdeeds."
"Well, I hope you plan on treating this kid better than you did poor Jimmy. At least your brothers aren't around to blow you up."
"Yes, well, there's still the laviathin."
"Sammy," Dean yelled up the stairs.
"In a minute," came the yelled response.
"Must be in the oval office," Dean said to himself.
"The oval office?"
"Yeah, its another name for the crapper, Cas. You know, the bathroom."
"I see."
Dean laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing, man. I'm just glad that your back. I missed you," Dean replied, as he slapped Cas on the back one more time.
"I missed you too," Cas said.
"So, where have you been," Dean asked, as he grabbed three beers, and offered one to Cas, and motioning to the seat across the table.
When Cas sat down, he took a sip of his beer, and placed it back on the table.
"Its hard to remember now, but I think that I was in a heaven for the angels."
Sam came down the stairs after that, and stopped midstep when he saw their guest.
"Who's that?"
"Its Cas," Dean said, looking over his shoulder at his brother.
"Really," he asked, looking at Cas doubtfully.
"It really is me, Sam," Cas comfirmed, "I know that you are confused because of this new vessel, but I had to replace my old vessel. It was destroyed when I died."
Sam smiled, as he stepped off the stairs, and went to the table to join the guys in having a beer.
"It is good to see you, Cas," Sam admitted.
"I'm pleased to see you again, as well. I heard your prayer, but I don't remember any of the content."
"Maybe that's for the best," Sam responded, with a shrug and a frown.
Dean looked between Cas and his brother, wondering what Sam could have possibly prayed to the angel for. Maybe it was best to be forgotten? What the hell did that mean?
"I remember you prayed to me too, Dean," Cas said, interrupting his thoughts. If Dean was the blushing type, he would've been as red as a tomato. He didn't remember what he had prayed about, but he had been drunk, and he could have said anything. He feinted an interest in the the lable of his beer bottle, hoping that Cas didn't remember his prayer either.
"I'm sorry that Bobby passed because I know that you guys probably miss him. I know that he made it to heaven. He lead a full life, at least for a hunter. He's probably up there with his wife right now."
Sam's eyes went to the floor in sad rememberance of Bobby's passing. Cas continued to remember bits and pieces of Dean's prayer.
"You were very drunk," Cas stated.
"Yeah," Dean agreed, as he took another swig of beer.
"Was this when we had come back from the hospital, when you started puking at like midnight?"
"Yep."
"Do you really forgive me," Cas asked.
Dean's eyes snapped up to Cas, and Sam looked at his brother, taken by surprise that he would forgive so easily. "Yeah. I do forgive you Cas. Its all water under the bridge, or whatever. The point is that your back, and you've saved our asses again."
"Its the least I can do after creating this mess in the first place."
"Yeah, about the saving of our asses.. Are they dead?"
"No, I was only able to deflect their attacks long enough to get us all out of there. I have no way of killing them. They are not like demons which I can vanquish with a touch, and as far as I know they are not vulnerable to an angel sword. Besides, I no longer have my weapon. I will have to get a new one made, if I need it."
"Shit. Well, we at least have you here to help, Cas. We found out that they have a reaction to a certain chemical. We've been able to capture a few, hose them down, chop off their heads, and we bury their heads far away from their bodies. Its a temporary solution untill we find a permanent fix, but it helps."
Sam scoffed at the temporary solution, "Their really hard to capture, and their leader is growing in influence. If he gets into the white house or something, we're screwed. We're also unable to find all their experiments on time."
"Maybe I can help you keep track of them better, and I'll start a search for a better weapon."
"Sounds great,"Dean enthused, "I'm just so glad that your back Cas."
The three sit back and enjoy their beers. For now, work can wait. As they sit and drink they talk about past cases, and what the laviathin were up to now. When the Winchesters decide its time for them to get some shut eye, Cas sticks around. He closes his eyes and is content to just sit there and feel Dean's presence in the room, listening to his breathing as the man dreams.