Chapter 18: Miles on a car

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Dean recognised the feeling. He had been having it a lot lately. He had gone to the doctor and she had basically said that he should act his age and take it easy. Now it was worse, though. Less clenching and more crushing. He steadied himself against the nearest tree. Castiel was immediately by his side.

'Dean?'

Hoping for a pause somewhere in between, Dean waited. When it finally came it felt so good. He kind of expected it to end soon, so he grimaced and spoke quickly.

'You know how, on a daily basis, you say shit that freaks me out? My turn. I think I'm having a heart attack.'

Sarah appeared behind them and whipped out her cell to call for an ambulance. Sam and Castiel helped Dean to a chair and sat him down. Everyone else just stood around looking concerned and shocked.

It was a stupid thing to think about while he was dying, but his timing really sucked. He couldn't just have quietly bit the dust. No, of course it had to be on poor Rory's wedding day. As if the guy wasn't already permanently overshadowed by his three sisters; two of whom were decorated FBI agents and a third one who had more degrees than Dean could count.

And there was the tightness again. Dean couldn't even think while it curled around his heart and took his breath away. He squeezed Castiel's hand so hard that he was afraid he was going to break it.

Suddenly, when a familiar face appeared in the crowd, a whole new kind of panic overtook him. Glasses: check. Blond hair in a pony tail: check. Sour face: check.

'Just me, right?' Dean mouthed during another merciful, but short breather. Atropos nodded. Grimacing, he braced himself for another burst of pain. He leaned back; comforted by the thought that the thing he had feared the most wasn't going to happen. He wouldn't have to watch Castiel die, because it looked like Dean would be the first to go.

Selfish? Sure. A huge fucking relief? Hell, yeah.

'You,' Sam hissed, singling her out too. He approached her, still mightily menacing for a guy in his late sixties.

'What are you doing here? Go away. Leave him alone.'

Unimpressed, she rolled her eyes. Still such a bitch. Amy and Rose were speculating who the stranger could be until Hannah told them that, judging by the description Castiel had given of her once upon a time, it was probably Atropos. It gave Dean some satisfaction to see Sam push her.

'Stop it! Please, stop it,' Sam pleaded.

'I'm not doing anything. He's simply dying,' she responded, almost offended. Sarah informed them that she had called the emergency services and they were on their way. Not that CPR would do much good. Not if his heart was shot. Not if Atropos was here.

Shuffling off this mortal coil was taking a lot longer than Dean had thought it would. That was dumb, considering that 'shuffling' wasn't exactly something that sounded fast. Also, Hamlet took his time with practically everything. This drawn out affair wasn't Dean's thing. Kicking the bucket with all your friends and family around you may seem, for lack of a better word, ideal, but it wasn't.

Seeing Sam quietly fall apart really wasn't something he wanted to witness. Seeing Amy and Rose try to keep it together wasn't either. Watching Sarah cry and Rory ball his fists in helpless rage and Hannah hug Ben and Castiel looking at him with this goddamn heartbreaking expression on his face: all things Dean could have done without. Luckily, he was starting to feel weaker.

Feeling a little neglected, Atropos coughed discreetly. When they then still proceeded to ignore her, she coughed a little louder.

'Was it worth it, angel? Love?' she asked. Clinically detached again. Gotta admire her. At least she wasn't crumbling like the rest of them. Castiel spoke without taking his eyes off Dean.

'Yes.'

'Really? This? Him?'

Her disbelief sparked the tiniest flash of anger in Dean. His feelings were losing their intensity. Who was she to question their relationship? Who was she to question the awesomeness that was Dean Winchester? Just as annoyed, Castiel turned around.

'Yes,' he snapped. 'You can ask as many times as you like; the answer won't change. It will always be unequivocally yes. Please leave us now.'

'No regrets?' she asked. It better be the last time she opened her mouth, because Dean was this close to getting up and punching her in the face. Well, mentally. Physically, he wasn't going to get up any time soon. Or, you know, ever. The pain was pretty much constant now.

'No regrets. He is worth it,' Castiel said. Dean wanted to say something like, 'hello, dying here,' to get Castiel's attention, but the words wouldn't come out. Can't quip and die at the same time, apparently. All he wanted to do was be comfortable. As if reading his mind, Castiel turned back to him and laid him down onto the wet grass.

The sky was streaked with red. The river murmured in the background. Conversations were starting up again amongst the wedding guests. Rude; Dean thought, but he wasn't mad. He couldn't summon the emotion.

Castiel was holding him, stroking his hair. It would be nauseating, if it hadn't been who they were. This was them. This was love. Dean tried to raise his head and failed.

'Remember... what I said?' he grunted. The thought popped into his mind that it might have been one of those times when Castiel was thinking about sex instead of actually listening. He hoped that it hadn't been, because it was kind of important.

Castiel nodded. His eyes were wet, but he wasn't crying. There was no clutching, no screaming, because Castiel did remember. This was not the end. They would meet again.

'I love you,' Dean whispered, as clearly as he could manage. Castiel choked up, but said it back. The pain was easing. Dean was an expert at dying by now and he knew what that meant. Time was up.