The year was 2048. Dean was in his early 70's, and was dying of heart failure. The doctors gave him 3 weeks to live, and it had been 3 and a half.
Dean's green eyes had gone dull, his hair turned brittle and gray. His skin wrinkled over the freckles on his nose and cheeks, and his lips were dry and cracked. He lay in his hospital bed, heaving as he felt his heart beat in his chest, each pump a muted thud which caused him to wince in pain. A gray knitted blanket was draped over his waist, and a pale blue hospital gown clung to his boney shoulders.
One hand grasped the TV remote, the channel on mute, his eyes staring blankly at a wall. His other hand was wrapped firmly around the hand of his brother, his thin fingers pale and trembling.
"Dean…" Sam whispered. The younger hunter had aged significantly, wrinkles sweeping out from the corner of his eyes, widening as his brow furrowed. His hair was still long, but had taken on a silver shine. His brother's gaze did not falter, but his hand twitched as Sam's voice pierced the silence that had spread through the hospital room. Dean finally let his weary eyes slide over to view his brother's hand which was held firmly around his. He eyed the golden ring on Sam's finger that felt cold against his knuckles. It twinkled even after years of age.
Three years after Cas passed away, Sam had gotten married. Her name was Stephanie, and she once had long wavy blonde hair much like Jess. Even after years of age, even after she cut the blonde hair to just under her chin, her blue eyes shone like they did when she had looked at Sam and said her vows. They had two children, and now Sam was a grandfather to a little baby boy, whose name was Dean.
"Sammy," Dean coughed out, struggling to form proper syllables under the pressure of his slowing heart beat. "I need to say something, before I lose my chance."
"Dean… Don't talk like that," Sam whimpered as he watched his brother struggle to keep his eyes open. He knew that his brother was on borrowed time, hanging from a thin thread that would inevitably break, but he couldn't let go, not yet.
"Sammy, we both know that I-I don't have much longer, so let me speak, please. Hey, I was… never meant to make it this far anyway." Dean chuckled slightly, but wheezed as the pain grew deep in his chest. He squeezed his younger brother's fingers gently, and looked him deep in the eyes. "I- I am so proud of you, little brother," he spoke softly. "You got out… You… you fell in love, and you had children. You have made me so proud, Sammy…" His voice shook as he spoke his little brother's name for the last time. "I'm proud of us."
Sam wiped the tear that leaked down his cheek bone, squeezing his eyes closed to fight against others that threatened to appear. He felt his arms begin to shake as he realized these were his brothers last moments on Earth. The monitor that was strapped up to Dean was beeping, increasingly slower, each beat piercing the air with an unforgiving stab. Sam bit his quivering lip and lay his second hand upon Dean's.
"I love you, Dean." Was all he could choke out before the tears forced their way out, sticking in his eyelashes, and rolling down his aged cheeks.
Dean no longer felt the dire need to protect Sam. He was a man, with a family, who lived in a suburban home with a white picket fence, who ate apple pie, and enjoyed home-cooked meals around a wooden table.
Sam had imagined how it would end for much of his life. He had seen Dean die countless times. Various times at the hands of the trickster as he relived the same Tuesday again and again, and then as a victim to the vicious claws and teeth of a hellhound. He remembered Dean's screams and yelps of pain, as his flesh was ripped open, his eyes laced with the unmistakable look of pure terror. Dean, and his brother for that matter, had always expected it to end bloody and violent. But not like this, not how Dean lay with his head upon a pillow, his eyes lacking any fear or sadness, his face calm and serene.
The older man, his eyes still locked on Sam, allowed his shaking lips to stretch into one last small smile. He could feel the darkness nipping at the corner of his eyes, begging to drag him in completely. The monitor's beeps slowed even further, threatening to cease at any moment. He moved his green eyes away one last time, and focused on something that sat on his bedside table.
Then Sam understood.
On the table sat a small wooden picture frame, aimed toward Dean. The colors of the photograph had faded significantly over it's years of wear, but despite it's age, two things twinkled like they had the day it was taken.
A set of blue eyes. The blue eyes of an angel.
Dean studied the wrinkles that framed Castiel's eyes as he smiled against the force of Dean's lips on his cheek. He studied the way his own fingers lay upon the angel's other cheek, smooth and tanned, blushing slightly against the black stubble that sprinkled his jaw. Dean parted his lips, struggling to make a sound. Finally, he forced out a single word.
"Always."
The monitor beeped only once more. The weak spark in his cloudy eyes disappeared. His gripped around Sam's hand loosened. Everything went black. Dean Winchester was gone.
Dean felt a breeze roll through his hair. The sound of leaves rustling against each other, causing him to blink, the darkness interrupted with a sudden blinding light. He blinked again, and again, allowing his eyes to adjust to the brightness. Finally, he opened his eyes completely, and studied the scenery around him.
He stood before a porch, the porch of a quaint blue house. It took a moment for Dean to realize he was standing in front of Bobby Singer's house, a location he had not visited in years. It looked new, the wood varnished and pristine, not chipping like he had remembered it. He stood in a grassy field, lacking in piles of old cars and scraps of metal.
He started to step forward, taking cautious strides toward the front door. He reached a steady hand out and grasped the door knob, turning it to find it was unlocked.
The interior was much like he remembered it, furniture cluttered with books and foreign ingredients, a look that gave Dean a sense of nostalgia. He had grown to love this home, with all of its quirks and flaws. Only one thing remained different, a gentle humming noise that came from within a room.
He turned and looked in the mirror that hung by the door.
His thin, gray hair was replaced by a thick patch of sandy brown hair, that shone in the sun that leaked through the windows. His eyes were emerald green and shining brilliantly, sans the cloudiness that once covered them. His skin, once leathery and wrinkled, was smooth.
He was young again.
He turned his attention back to the humming sound, realizing it's source was in the room that he once slept in. The muffled melody was difficult to make out from behind the walls, but as he grew closer, he realized it was music. The sound was the only sign of any life from within the house, but he shuffled towards it with determination.
He turned the handle, and pushed the door open a crack. Immediately, a familiar tune flooded his ears, and caused goosebumps to rise on his skin.
"If Heaven and Hell decide, that they both are satisfied…"
He shivered at the words that would forever be etched into the back of his mind. Other than the sweet sound coming from an old record player, and a few pieces of familiar furniture, the room was empty. Not another soul in sight.
He was about to close the door, until his eyes fixed on a chair that sat in the corner of the room. A piece of clothing was draped over the back of the chair, and his heart skipped a beat.
It was a trench coat.
He felt his heart flood with emotions, and tears began prickling the bottom of his eyes. He froze, feeling his heart beat strongly in his chest, the sound rising up to his ears, and causing his head to spin. Suddenly he heard the floorboards creak slightly behind him. He spun around swiftly, and froze once more, eyes widening as he looked at the source of the sound.
"Hello, Dean."
Castiel smiled widely, tears gathering in his eyes, making them sparkle. His hair was still dark and shiny, piled on top of his head in messy wisps. His white buttoned up shirt was rolled above his elbows, and unbuttoned slightly over his smooth chest, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. After so many years, he was just as beautiful as Dean had remembered.
The hunter ran forward, diving into the embrace of the angel, longingly taking in the warmth he had been living without for so long. He began to sob as he felt Cas' arms tighten around his waist, pulling him further into the curves of his body.
"Cas…" He cried, refusing to loosen his grip. "Cas… I had to live so long without you. Not a day went by that- that I didn't think about you. You were in my mind until the very end." His voice quivered as his whole body shook within the arms of the angel, overwhelmed by the feeling of his embrace, and his soft dark hair which was pressed under his chin.
"I've been waiting for you, Dean… this whole time I've been waiting… I missed you more than words can begin to describe." The angel's usual stern tone was no longer as tears began to fall steadily from his ocean blue eyes. They lingered in each other's warmth, refusing to let go, insisting they make up for lost time.
"I love you. I never stopped loving you." The hunter spoke again, his words needy as if trying to convince the angel he had not betrayed their profound bond.
"I know, Dean, I know. I love you. And never, for one second, did I regret the decision I made. You were able to live a full life, like you deserved."
"B-but… Cas, I wanted you. You and Sam were my whole life. Then Sam got a life of his own, and I had... nothing."
"Shhh," Cas cooed gently in his ear. "I'm hear now, Dean, we have each other once again. That is all that matters."
The hunter loosened his grip slightly, and leaned back to gaze into the eyes he had been achingly missing. He admired the brilliant blue, and the contrast against his dark eyelashes. He stood there for a moment, just looking, until he cupped his strong hands around the angel's jaw, and gently brought their lips together.
The soft sensation of Cas' lips made Dean's mind melt, their rhythm perfect as if no time had passed at all. He slid his hand along the angel's jaw, and to the back of his head, feeling the soft hair against his finger tips. He felt Cas' smile under the kiss, his eyes dropping tears upon Dean's nose. They stood their for a moment, taking advantage of their closeness, the closeness that they had been without for decades. Cas pulled back slightly, Dean filling with sadness at the absence of his lips, momentarily fearing he would open his eyes, and Cas would be gone again.
But when he open them he was greeted with blue eyes that gazed at him with so much intensity and love that had not diminished over the years, but had grown stronger. Cas took Dean in his arms once again, pecking soft kisses at his cheek as they swayed to the tune of their song.
"I will follow you into the dark..."
And that is how they stayed, together, in their own little chapter of heaven.
Always.