A/N: So here's the next chapter. It contains sex... which is implicit. Well, there's more kissing and stuff, more than actual details.
I hope you guys like the ending though. Do tell us what you think about that! :)
9. Until He Found Himself
Two Months Later
Sam hurries up the stairs to open the trapdoor when he hears Dean knock. When Sam gets it open, Dean enters with two bags filled with supplies. He hands them to Sam and closes the trapdoor, locking it from the inside.
"That's all I could get. There was an impressive amount of security in that ghetto," Dean says, shrugging off his jacket. He frowns as Sam flinches and nervously digs in nails into his palm halfway through sorting out the stuff in the bags.
"You still seeing him, Sam?" Dean asks. He remembers when Sam had woken up one night, a month ago, acting as though he was being strangled when in reality, nothing had been there. He'd done everything to try getting Sam out of it, and when nothing had worked, Dean had taken off the amulet and pushed it into Sam's hands, closing his brother's fingers around it, pleading for him to come back. Sam had finally snapped out of it and after a while, explained how what had started just as voices had progressed to actually seeing Nick around him.
After that, Dean began keeping an even closer eye on Sam while trying to figure out how looking into a mirror had resulted into Sam pretty much hallucinating and having nightmares about his days in Hell.
Sam's hesitation gives Dean his answer. He sighs, taking off his amulet and putting it around Sam's neck. "Keep it for a while, okay?"
He returns Sam's thankful smile before sitting down on the floor with his brother and sorting through the food, first aid necessities, and other odds and ends.
It's takes them thirty minutes to sort everything out and put them in their designated places around the cabin. Dean is crossing over from the bedroom to head towards the kitchen when he hears two loud knocks echoing in from the trapdoor.
"Sam?" Dean calls out, walking towards the sofa and pulling out a gun from under it. Sam rushes in, his eyes widening when he spots the gun in Dean's hand. Dean brings a finger to his lips, pointing towards the door. The knocks sound again, this time, three knocks and fast ones. Impatient.
Sam heads into the bedroom and comes out with a baseball bat that had previously been found by Dean in an empty cupboard in the kitchen when they'd explored the cabin to see what they could find.
Dean motions for Sam to get behind him and slowly walks up the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible. He waits for the person on the other side to knock again.
Dean freezes when he hears not a knock, but a very familiar voice calling out from the other side.
"Dean? Are you in there? It's…it's Castiel."
Dean's heart hammers against his chest. He turns to Sam, wide-eyed.
"It could be a trap," Sam whispers.
Dean looks back up at the trapdoor, resisting the urge to push it open and pull Cas inside and hug him but he knows he can't. Because Sam is right. It could be a trap and that wouldn't end well for any of them.
But…
What if it's not a trap? What if it's actually Cas out there? What if all that wishing for two months actually paid off?
"Well, we have to find out somehow, right?" Dean whispers back. He ignores the warning look on Sam's face, takes a deep breath, and pushes the door open.
Dean stares, climbing up the last few steps. He looks at the angel before him, looks and looks, disbelief crowding every cell in his body. No, this can't this can't…
Is he injured?
There's not a single scratch on him, none that Dean can see anyway. He looks like the same guy that had helped Dean escape out of Hell, the same guy that brought him pie every day, the same guy that helped nurse Sam back to health.
The same guy that Dean fell in love with.
Cas's chapped lips widen in a smile. "Hello, Dean."
Dean hurries forward and pulls Cas into a hug. He doesn't know how long he holds on, smelling Cas's familiar smell, feeling his comforting warmth and soaking it all in. He lets go, clearing his throat, grinning from ear to ear.
"It's nice to see you smiling, Dean," says Cas.
Dean chuckles, looking behind him and spotting Sam smiling, as well. Dean steps aside as Sam walks up to Castiel and hugs him, too.
"So, where have you been? What happened?" Sam asks, letting go of their friend.
Dean spots an unfamiliar look on Castiel's face and tries to ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. He motions for them to head on inside and talk, and once Sam and Cas descend down the stairs, he gives his surroundings a cursory glance to make sure no one was following Cas or had seen them before entering the cabin himself, shutting the door behind him.
"So." Dean walks up to the sofa, where Cas is now sitting. "You hungry or something?"
Cas shakes his head. "No. I'm okay. I got something to eat a while back."
"Yeah? Where? Because all the diners are pretty much abandoned. Unless you broke into a ghetto again," Sam says, brows arching in curiosity.
Cas shrugs indifferently. "Don't worry about it. I'm not hungry, but thank you for asking, Dean."
Dean looks at Sam, puzzled, and realizes his brother probably feels the same way he does. Sam discreetly tilts his head towards the kitchen, getting to his feet.
"Okay, well. I'm gonna go get some coffee. You…wait here, Cas," Dean says awkwardly and then follows his brother to the kitchenette.
Dean starts preparing his coffee while watching Sam glance again and again towards Castiel, who is now examining the TV remote with a curious look on his face.
"Sam?" Dean asks in a low voice when he notices that his little brother seems to be getting more and more agitated.
Sam looks over towards Dean, accepting the cup of coffee Dean hands to him. "Don't you think he…he seems a little…odd?" Sam asks. "I mean, yeah, I don't remember as much, but…I don't know. I'm just…this feels really…weird. Everything about this seems off."
Dean frowns. "What do you mean?"
Sam pauses before continuing. "I mean that he's been gone for two months. He was kidnapped and dragged off by other angels. Don't you think he'd be at least a little bit unsettled or hurt?"
"So you mean to say that if he's not screwed in the head or hurt that something is wrong? Do you want him to be hurt, Sam?" Dean argues.
"Of course not—"
"Then let it go. For all we know, he could have escaped and just been hiding from them this whole time. Not everyone becomes traumatized or unstable like you," Dean snaps.
He regrets those words instantly as a block of guilt settles on him. Sam visibly flinches, clenches and unclenches his jaw and shoves past Dean, retreating into the bedroom after setting his coffee cup on the kitchen counter.
Dean licks his lips, closing his eyes and rubbing a hand over his face. That was definitely uncalled for. He knows how hard Sam's been working to be okay, and Sam's still far from that. But that jab at Cas had been uncalled for. Sam didn't need to say that.
… Or did he?
Dean looks towards Cas, who is still a little preoccupied with the TV remote. He frowns, wondering why his friend is acting as though he's never seen a TV or its remote before. They'd had a television set at Rufus's cabin, too, and Castiel hadn't acted this way then.
Deciding to dwell on that later, Dean walks over to the bedroom, knocking once before slowly entering. His heart breaks as he sees Sam hastily try to hide the hurt from his face. He wipes a hand down his face and heads to his brother.
"Hey."
Sam ignores him. Dean swallows. "Listen, that was a shitty move. I'm sorry, Sam. I…I didn't mean any of that."
Sam scoffs, eyes showing nothing but pain.
Dean sits opposite Sam, making his brother look directly in his eyes. "I swear, Sammy. I'm sorry. I'm fucking proud of you, all right? I know I don't say it much, but I'm saying it now. You're handling this a billion times better than I ever could."
Sam squints at Dean, scrutinizing him. "You mean that?"
"Yes. I do. Come on, Sammy. Give my prissy old ass one more chance."
"Prissy old ass?" Sam repeats, teasing. "Wow, you really do mean it."
Dean scowls, but it soon turns a fond grin as Sam starts laughing. "So, we good?"
"We're good."
~o~
Dean does his best to ignore that strange twinge of intuition in his gut, but every day, it keeps coming back to him until he starts to think that maybe Sam was right. Cas is definitely here, but he doesn't seem normal. Well, as normal as you can call an angel.
He just doesn't seem like the Cas they'd known.
Dean remembers how Cas used to be all up in his personal space, sometimes scaring the living daylights out of him. Now? Castiel maintains his distance and almost looks like he's zoning out in the middle of whatever task he does.
Two days into Cas being back, Dean wonders if there are things that his friend isn't telling them. Sometimes, when the three of them are having a conversation, Dean finds himself observing that Castiel soon seems to lose interest and starts drifting off, daydreaming with his eyes staring out the large window behind the sofa and his hands absently pulling at his shirt. And he's pretty sure Sam's noticing it, too.
Four days in, Sam comes over to Dean, who is cleaning their guns in the bedroom. He watches Sam look towards Castiel, who is sitting cross-legged on the sofa, staring out the window, before closing the bedroom door.
"Dude, can I ask you something?"
Dean sits up straight, listening.
"Do you remember the weird way he used to look at stuff?" Sam asks.
"What do you mean?"
Sam struggles for words. "Like…that weird squinty thing he used to do along with his head like…tilted to the side."
Dean blinks, realization hitting him. He'd been wondering what it was that kept bothering him apart from all the other obvious things, about Cas. Of course. He doesn't do that stupid head-tilting thing anymore.
"Dude, something's not right. Maybe he's hurt, or maybe he just doesn't want to tell us what happened," Sam suggests. They'd tried to get Castiel to talk about the past few days but every time they brought it up, Castiel would completely shut them out. He'd either walk out of the cabin and not come back for hours, or just sit and stare out the window, no longer seeming to be interested in any conversation.
Dean purses his lips. "I'll talk to him, don't worry."
Sam pats Dean's knee and exits the bedroom, heading towards the kitchen, it being his turn to cook. They eat silently that night, both Sam and Dean exchanging worrying looks over their food. As they all head to bed a couple of hours later, Dean decides to confront Castiel after they've all slept for the night.
The next morning, things go on as usual, Cas being just the same as he's been the past few days, and Sam and Dean going about their daily chores. Dean once again heads out to get supplies since they hadn't anticipated having a third guest so soon and are running pretty low.
He doesn't make it back until evening. As he enters the cabin, he sees Cas sitting at his spot on the sofa, staring out the window. He quietly hands over the supplies to Sam before walking over to Castiel. Sam immediately seems to understand Dean's intention and promptly moves into the bedroom so that Dean can talk to their friend in private.
"Do you like the sunset?" Dean asks, sitting beside Cas.
"Yes. It's very…mesmerising."
"Well, it's even more beautiful if you see it from out in the open."
Castiel looks at Dean, but stays silent.
Feeling slightly weirded out, Dean gets to his feet. "Come on. I'll show you."
Dean gestures for Castiel to follow him and he opens up the door and heads out, breathing in the fresh air. He walks ahead, making a beeline for his usual spot by the guardrail when suddenly he feels something crash into the back of his head. He yells in pain, stumbling forward a few feet. He looks behind him and his heart crawls its way up to his throat as he spots Castiel holding his blade with a manic look in his eye.
"Cas, what the fuck are you doing?" Dean exclaims, running a hand gingerly over the back of his head and feeling blood. "Shit," he curses.
"My orders are to kill you," Cas growls, twirling the blade in his hand and advancing dangerously towards Dean.
Dean gulps, knowing that Cas isn't in his right mind. He knew it. Those douche angels must have done something to Cas. Dean narrowly dodges the slash of Castiel's blade and runs towards the entrance to the cabin. He's only halfway there when Castiel tackles him to the ground.
Dean struggles against the strong grip of his angel. "Cas, stop! This isn't you!" Dean grunts, trying to hold off the barrage of blows Cas is aiming at him.
Dean's yells of pain are cut off as Cas punches him in the face over and over, pinning him to the ground. He feels his face being pummelled, pain tearing through him, and there's nothing he can do to make it stop. Cas somehow gets around every defensive move Dean applies and soon enough, Dean's vision starts getting darker and darker.
Castiel then holds up his blade, ready to stab Dean when Dean holds out a hand, placing it on Cas's chest, right above his heart.
"Cas," Dean croaks. "Cas, it's okay. It's okay. I'm not mad, it's okay."
Castiel hesitates, hand still in the air, holding his blade.
"I love you, Cas. I love you."
Dean watches warily but with every bit of love he's ever felt for Cas blooming in his heart. He loves this dude. Fuck, so much, and he doesn't know what they did to Cas but Sam—someone needs to tell him, and it's okay. It's Cas. It's Cas. He loves Cas.
It's okay.
Something breaks and shatters between them. Something snaps, a burst of energy withdrawn, and it feels like time's stopped moving forward. And Cas emerges from his trance. He blinks a few times, expression changing from indifferent to horrified and the next moment, he's dropped the blade onto the ground next to him.
"Cas?"
"D-Dean…I'm—"
Dean cuts Cas off by pulling his angel towards him. He crashes his lips into Cas's. Castiel seems stunned for a second before he responds, kissing Dean back, his hands clutching Dean's hair.
They both break apart, breathless.
"Dean. I'm – I'm so sorry. I didn't….I couldn't stop. I don't…" Cas stammers, looking agonized and guilty as he gets off of Dean and helps him sit up, surveying the injuries he's caused.
"Hey, it's okay. I'm…I'm okay," Dean assures him. He slowly gets to his feet with Castiel's help.
"You sure?" Cas asks.
Dean smiles, kissing the angel again, revelling in the feeling of it. He never knew it would feel this right. Granted, he didn't want their first kiss to happen like this, but oh well. His life was always fucked up. But if it was fucked up with Cas, then he was totally cool with it.
"I promise. Now, how about we head back inside and explain this to Sam?"
~o~
Dean sits on the bed nearest the door in their bedroom with Cas sitting cross-legged at his feet and Sam on the other single bed, eye on Cas, who is fidgeting nervously with the belt of his trench coat.
Dean and Cas had entered the cabin to the sounds of Sam bustling around the kitchen, washing out the coffee mugs. He'd freaked out seeing the blood on his brother's face and Castiel's slightly bruised knuckles. It hadn't taken Sam long to put two and two together and he had picked up a frying pan, wielding it as a weapon. He didn't put it down until Dean managed to reassure him that everything was okay and that he and Cas would tell Sam everything once Dean took care of the bruises.
A few minutes later, they'd headed into the bedroom and had recounted everything that happened and now Sam sat on his bed, pondering over the story.
"So, you mean to tell me that he stopped hitting you when you said you loved him?"
Dean feels his cheeks burn in embarrassment as he nods.
Sam grins. "Could you two be any cheesier?"
Dean scowls. "Very funny, bitch."
Sam lets the insult pass and looks towards Cas. "Hey, we don't blame you, Cas."
Castiel looks up towards Sam and gives a half-hearted attempt at a smile. "Thank you, Sam."
"Do you remember what happened, though? I mean, after they took you?"
"I do now."
Dean sits up, alert. This is new information to him. Cas hadn't admitted to it until now. "Well? What happened?" he asks.
Castiel pauses for a moment. "I don't remember much of when they were trying to get me into the car, but when we got there, I knew exactly why they'd bought me in. It was Naomi's headquarters. I don't really know where it's situated. They usually make you forget, kind of alter your memories so that you're only focused on the goal or target they set you on. They meddle with your grace, modify it to suit their plan. It not only gives us strength and power, but it kind of controls our actions if you know how to mess with it.
"Naomi, she…did what she wanted to for days and days. You can fight it, so they have to keep doing it over and over to make you forget that you're a prisoner. They make you lose all sense of control over yourself. Sometimes you can see what you're doing, you are aware, but you can't stop it. It's like some unknown entity is using you as their puppet. It's…not very pleasant. Anyway, that's not important—"
"What do you mean it's not important?!" Dean exclaims, indignant. "If that bitch did something to you, I wanna know."
Cas sighs. "Dean, I'm fine. Trust me, I've faced worse. There's something more important I need to tell you."
"What could be more important than that?" Sam asks, puzzled.
"Azazel. And you," Castiel answers.
Sam stiffens. "What do you mean?"
"When you're there, you tend to hear things. Some of the angels in that place are, for lack of a better word, idiots, and they spoke about goings-on and other things in front of the other angels, like me, that they keep prisoners. They talked about Hell. Azazel has children like Sam in there for research, to make them into weapons of sorts. These children, once trained, can kill demons. Azazel wants to really establish his powers over all the other demons. He wants leverage. And with these children, he could easily create an army and there wouldn't be many who would be willing or able to stop him," Cas explains.
"But how?" Dean interrupts.
"How what?" Castiel asks, confused.
"How does he know which kid to take? Like, I've been with Sam all my life, we've even been on hunts where we had to drive away demons from ghettos, save people taken by them. Sam never killed any demons."
"According to the angels I heard talking, Azazel himself created these children. He calls them 'special' children. He created them by feeding them his blood when they were young, only a few months old. How old was Sam when your mother died, Dean?"
Dean's brow furrows as he tries to recount the events. "Probably six months or so. Not more."
"Then there is a high chance your mother saw Azazel feeding Sam his blood, which is probably why he killed her. After they were all taken to Hell the blood was injected into them everyday during what Azazel referred to as 'training'. It gives them instant power, which is why they were at their most powerful after being trained. It is also extremely addictive. And, if these children weren't given demon blood every now and again, they could get withdrawal or go through detox. Those seizures and shakes that Sam went through after we got out of there—it wasn't a flu, it was him detoxing from the lack of demon blood in his system."
Dean looks over to Sam, who is white as a sheet, shocked at what he's hearing. Dean wants to say something, but doesn't know what to say. He's surprised when Sam somehow pulls it together and asks Cas a question. "Did you hear anything about mirrors, Cas?"
Castiel nods. "I'm not surprised you don't recall much about that, Sam. They trained you to forget about it. You've been trained by fear and blood. So much so that when they show you the mirror, they expect you to be scared, they expect you to be anticipating a certain torturous act being inflicted upon you. I saw you freeze up that day. This training by fear, it's the very reason they sent you and everyone else to Nick."
Dean feels unimaginable anger as he sees the broken look on Sam's face. "This is fucked up. What the fuck do they think they're doing?" Dean says, fuming and getting to his feet. "They are kids!"
Castiel gets to his feet, as well. "I know, Dean. These demons, they don't see reason. And they've corrupted way too many angels for any of the good ones still out there to do anything that would help turn the tide against them."
"I want him dead. He ruined my life, Cas. I believed Sam was dead for four fucking years. I see my brother go through literal hallucinations and nightmares because of that fucktard and I can't do anything about it," Dean argues, partly wondering how Castiel is so calm.
Sam approaches Dean slowly. "Dean, it's all right. We'll get him. We just need to figure out a plan, okay? Calm down."
Dean takes a deep breath, looking his brother in the eye. Sam looks calm, confident, and Dean knows he's acting it up because if he knew he had demon blood in him, he'd be freaked as fuck. But his little brother is keeping himself together for everybody's sake, and so should Dean, dammit.
Finally he nods, rubbing his face with both his hands while Sam sits back down on the bed, looking worn out. Castiel nudges Dean on his way towards the door.
"What?" Dean asks him.
"There is a way to kill Azazel," Castiel says in a low voice. "Though I don't believe you would agree to it."
Dean presses his lips in a thin line. "Try me."
"Sam," he whispers. "He was being trained to kill demons in the first place. I have no doubt he'd be able to kill Azazel."
Dean is exasperated. "Dude, that's a bullshit plan. Sam is not a nuclear warhead that we can just throw onto the playing field. He's my brother."
"And as your brother, I would want nothing more than to kill that son of a bitch," Sam says suddenly from his place on the bed. Dean realises too late that he's overheard the conversation.
"This is not up for discussion, Sam," Dean snaps sternly.
"Dean, he has a lot more chance of bringing Azazel down than either of us do," Cas says.
"I'm not asking for permission, Dean. Azazel didn't just ruin your life, he took away mine, too. And if I have the ability to break that douchebag's neck, then why the fuck can't I?" Sam argues, just as stubborn.
"Because I can't lose you again!" Dean bellows. He feels the anger drain out of him. "I can't…shit."
"It's for the greater good," says Sam. "No more Azazel. No more Hell. Just think about it."
"No!"
"Dammit, Dean, it's my fucking life."
"Sam—"
"He is right, Dean," Cas interrupts him. "He should be the one to decide what he wants to do with the powers he has."
"Really? And what about…?" Dean takes a sharp breath at the two defiant faces staring back at him. He can't even believe them right now. Can't fucking—
He remembers rolling about in nightmares and longing and longing and hoping and struggling when Sam was gone and now Cas and everything he'd wished for, and these two assholes…
After he's done everything, they just want to leave anyway. They don't care. They don't care one bit.
He blinks away the wetness in his eyes as he squares himself. "You know what, screw you. Screw both of you." His voice cracking. Screw these assholes. Screw them.
A tear runs down his cheek and he has had it.
"Dean…"
He doesn't listen to Sam, or the sigh that follows. Before he can think further he's outside the cabin and at the cliff's edge, settling down in his usual spot. He angrily wipes away the tears on his face. He can't even believe he's crying over this. But he doesn't know what else to do. No one ever seems to understand him. He feels alone in his battle. Azazel is the reason the only family he has left is Sam. Azazel is the reason that his mother died a horrible death and he and Sam grew up without her. Azazel is the reason his father bled to death in Dean's arms.
Azazel is the reason he felt alone for most of his life. The reason everything around him fell apart and turned into debris.
No one fucking gets how important putting Azazel down is to him, but damn him if he risks losing his brother over this. Damn him if Azazel somehow gets the upper hand and manages to kill Sam somehow. He's not taking that risk.
Not after all they've been through. Cas and Sam can just suck it up, because if anyone is gonna kill Azazel, it's not going to be Sam.
~o~
Sam and Cas agree to leave Dean alone for a couple of days. It doesn't look like Dean minds being ignored—if anything, he still seems pissed. Sam tries every now and again to talk to him but receives no response, so he just gives up and walks away.
Sam understands why Dean's angry. He gets his brother's reasoning. But he'd rather take a chance at his own strength and life than risk Dean's. And of course Dean doesn't get that. Would he ever try to put himself in Sam's shoes? No. So screw him.
Sam notices that every evening, the minute the sun starts to set, Dean is out the door and by the cliff, watching the Evening Star and the beautiful horizon as the sun slowly disappears. He enters the cabin much calmer, but he still doesn't bother talking to Sam or Castiel.
One day, about a week after the argument, Sam hears the trapdoor shut while he's washing up in the kitchen. Deciding that this has gone on for far too long, he sets his work aside and hurries up the steps, following Dean to where he is now sitting, staring at the sky. He sits down beside his brother, ignoring the slightly annoyed look Dean throws his way.
They watch the sky in silence until Sam gathers up the courage to speak. "You remember the day you told me about how you and Mom used to wish on the Evening Star?"
Dean grunts in response, still not looking interested.
"You know what I wished for that day?"
Dean doesn't answer but Sam can tell he's listening.
"I wished to not be a burden on you. For you to be okay and smile again like you used to when we were back at the bunker."
"Sam—"
"Dean, I get it okay? I get why all of this is such a big deal for you. I get why you don't want me to risk my neck for this. But…what you don't get is that I finally feel like I can do something about this."
Dean turns to Sam. "What do you mean?"
Sam sighs, looking towards the sky. "I'm tired of feeling useless, man. I'm tired of feeling weak. I'm tired of letting a stupid reflection from a mirror make me see shit I don't wanna see. I can't even walk into our bathroom with the lights on, Dean, because what if the fucking thing gets reflected onto my face? That's how fucked up and scared I feel. I don't wanna kill Azazel just because he ruined our lives. I want to kill him because I don't want to be scared anymore."
Dean is silent for a moment. "You said the mirror thing was nothing."
"You'd think it's stupid."
"That Azazel, that fucktard screwed you up so hard that it fucking scares you to see the reflection of a mirror?! Jesus, Sammy." Dean's angrier now. Sam's been denying and hiding and doesn't he still get that if he needs help, Dean's always ready to give it?
Sam sighs. "Look, that's beside the point, okay? Just… let me fight, man."
"But what if I lose you? I can't lose anyone else, Sam. You're all I have."
"And if you die fighting Azazel by yourself, you think I'm gonna be okay?" Sam argues. "Look, whether you like it or not, Cas was right. The only people that can kill demons are fucked up kids like me. So why not take a chance?"
"You're not fucked up," Dean mumbles. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say what I did that day when Cas got back. I was a douche."
Sam smiles wryly. "Dude, stop. It's fine. You were pissed, you told me some shit. It happens. Look. You can train me. Help me get stronger. Teach me how to fight again properly, 'cause I know I can fight, but Azazel and the others know my moves. Help me get over the mirror thing, and we might honestly have a chance against these demons and angels."
Dean still doesn't say anything.
Sam looks defeated. "Please. Even if you do somehow make it through, I'm still gonna be scared. I'm still gonna feel useless as fuck. But just know that if you're going out onto that battlefield, guns blazing, I'm not letting you go in alone. I'm gonna be right behind you, ready to take those sons of bitches down."
Dean doesn't reply and Sam's shoulders slump as he starts to get to his feet, when Dean holds onto this arm, making him sit back down. "Okay," he says. "I'll train you. I'll let you fight and help you kill Azazel. But you're not walking out there alone, okay?"
"Okay."
And the silence that follows is warmer and more comforting than it has ever been.
They soon get to their feet and walk back into the cabin. Sam enters first and spots Cas giving him a small, sad smile before he retreats into the bedroom. As Dean enters the cabin behind him, Sam turns to his brother. "Dude, talk to Cas."
Dean looks taken aback. "Why?"
Sam just stares incredulously and Dean groans, finally getting it. He sees Dean walk up to the door, knock twice, and then enter before settling himself on the sofa, hoping that Dean and Cas can sort their shit out.
~o~
Dean enters the room and finds Cas sitting on the edge of the nearest bed. He runs a hand across the back of his neck, wondering how to start the conversation, but realises that he doesn't need to when Cas mutters something to him.
"What?" he asks, feeling a little stupid.
"I was just trying to help," Cas replies, louder this time. His gaze is fixed at the floor, refusing to move up.
"I know," Dean says, "and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. It's just, he's my brother, Cas. He's all I have."
"I know that, Dean. You aren't the only one that cares for Sam. I do, too. But I was trying to think rationally about our predicament rather than emotionally."
Dean exhales forcefully, irritated. His voice goes up a notch as he retorts, "Yeah, well your 'rational' thinking had a large potential for getting my brother killed."
Cas gets to his feet, looking just as angry. "I was providing you with a solution. Do you think it was easy for me to suggest that?"
"I don't know, was it?!"
"Of course, not! You know what, you can be a very selfish person, Dean. You may have been through a lot of pain over the years, but so have Sam and I. We're trying just as hard as you are to find a way around this."
"I see that, okay? I do! But when you two gang up on me and come up with half-assed plans, it's not exactly appealing."
"Well, at least we're coming up with plans!" Cas retorts.
"Yeah, if you call that fucking suicide mission a 'plan'. If Sam leaves, I have nothing. If he goes away, I don't think I'll be able to survive it. Do you understand that?"
"Yes."
"Really? Because I'm having a hard time believing that right now."
They're panting, red from arguing, and Dean clenches his fists as he stares into Cas's eyes, frustration and anger pouring out of every inch of him. How could he? Just how could Cas be so fucking stupid?
"Are you finished?" Cas asks him, face going back to being annoyingly placid as his tongue comes out to moisten his lip. "Because I understand, Dean. There is no use for such emotional blackmail against me. What I gave you was a suggestion. I am in no way forcing it on you."
Dean watches the tongue move over the ridges on Cas's mouth, wondering if that's how they get smooth, but then gets himself out of his thoughts and clenches his jaw. "Fuck you!"
He wants to rage some more because he's not done. He is so not done. And he's so, so pissed that he wants to yell. Yell and scream and howl and storm and shake Cas until those stupid blue eyes of his are rolling off his stupid head. The fear, anger, and nervousness from the past few days are taking over, crowding his brain. He wants to fucking beat the crap out of Cas for being so fucking calm and acting like it's okay when it's obviously not, and God, God, he just wants to…
He just wants to rip Cas's clothes off and actually fuck him into tomorrow.
There's something in the pit of his stomach, sitting there in the deep, and he wants Cas. He wants him so, so bad. The instinct is enough to rile him up and before he's aware of it, he's launching himself at Cas, hands grabbing his neck, pulling him forward to meet lips with him. He kisses Cas in rage and desperation, biting and bruising and listening to him moan. He sucks and nibbles, grasping at Cas harder, and feels a hand on his chest as Cas tries to keep up.
Dean doesn't slow down. Instead, he's just kissing Cas more, tongue running over warm, swollen lips and entering Cas's mouth to dash against his tongue. Cas tries weakly to pull away, once, twice, but then he gives up. He sighs, hands landing on Dean's waist as he grabs him closer, tongue flicking against Dean's in return.
Dean's hands are going down Cas's back, running all over him, fingers tingling as he enjoys the exploration. Cas quivers, kisses some more and his hands find the hem of Dean's t-shirt. They separate for a moment for Cas to take it off. They fall back into the kiss after as Dean palms the back of Cas's head and then down, feeling warm skin and cloth.
They're both a little breathless now. Cas gently pulls away from Dean's lips to mouth his jaw, sucking. Dean gasps, hands going to Cas's ass and upward to his belt loops. He entwines two fingers in them, tugs Cas forward, pushing himself against Cas.
Cas's lips slide over to Dean's shoulder, nipping at sensitive skin. Dean hisses, lets Cas go lower. A tongue dashes against his nipple, wet and warm, and he shudders, feeling Cas's lips enclose it, puckering and letting go by turns. Dean grunts, goosebumps everywhere, grips Cas's hair as he continues his journey downwards. Cas's tongue draws a wet trail down, circling Dean's navel and he clenches Cas's hair tighter as he throws his head back, eyes rolling up and breaths stuttering out in little moans.
Cas trails back up and Dean bites the inside of his cheek, blinking rapidly as Cas mouths his other nipple. He waits for Cas to stand again and grips his ass, clenching his fingers in it, feeling Cas let out a guttural moan as he staggers forward. Dean halts to get Cas's t-shirt off completely and they look into each other's eyes for a moment, green bleeding into blue. It's ephemeral and transcendent and beautiful all at once and Dean takes one step forward to kiss Cas again.
Cas's hand goes down to find Dean. Dean gasps, arching backwards, but returns to trail kisses to Cas's jaw and neck. Cas's hand pumps continuously and it's like they're both on a naked live wire, jolting and gasping and shuddering as Dean continues to kiss Cas, on the shell of his ear, his lobe, the side of his neck, then his shoulders, moving to his arm. Cas's breath hitches, Dean feels the goosebumps starting to rise against his mouth. He has to stop; halt in his steps because Cas's hand is creeping past his waistband and oh…ohfuckGod…
Dean is moaning before Cas's hand is even in, and he begins to fumble with Cas's pants, feeling Cas do the same with his. He own jeans bunch at his ankles first and Cas gets on his knees, pushing down the boxers completely before bending in.
Dean hisses, moving himself, trying to be careful. He revels in the feel of Cas's tongue, wet and warm, and oh, oh, oh fucking fuck he's… "Cas…" He wants to fuck Cas… wants to fuck him right the fuck now, and…
He yanks Cas up roughly, kicking off his shoes and his pants and kissing Cas, shoving him further inside, past the beds and against a wall. Cas bumps onto it with a grunt and a heave of breath, sweaty and half-hard, and just too sexy for Dean to take in all at once. He holds Cas against the wall, one hand on his shoulder, and spits into his own hand and fingers. Then he moves closer to Cas to lube both of them as much as he can. When they're ready he brings both hands to hold Cas's waist, grunting.
Cas cries out. Dean stops, watching worriedly as Cas hisses and presses his cheek against the wall.
"Sorry," he whispers to Cas, realising what he just did. He feels like a moron. "Slowly now, okay?"
Cas nods and Dean lubes his finger again, bending forward to kiss his angel's cheek before slowly starting again. Cas hisses. Dean kisses him again. He pecks Cas again and again, murmuring reassurances in his ear as he eases him up, stroking his hair.
When he pulls away, Cas moans and Dean holds him, moving in, pushing slowly, listening to Cas pant and moan. He can't wait anymore—can't take much and his mind is in a state of frenzy, spinning in pleasure and ecstasy. He continues, over and over, slowly, smoothly until, with a cry, Cas finishes, Dean hanging on to him while he gasps and moans.
Dean smiles, buries his head in the crook of Cas's neck and continues, their breaths and heartbeats matching, skin sliding over skin and caressing and loving him and feeling it all mount until…
"Fuck!"
It's like little waves of electricity inside him. Sweat pours down his face and every other part of his body and when he bends to kiss Cas again, he knows there's a whole life and an eternity ahead of them to know each other in this way. He kisses Cas's nape as he moves back and grips him, a happy grin spreading on his lips.
~o~
Sam turns off the television, curious when the yelling a few minutes ago culminated into thick, daunting silence. What happened to these two? Weren't they just having a moronic shouting match two seconds ago? Furrowing his eyebrows, he walks over to the door and is about to knock when he hears what's actually going on inside.
Eyes wide, he puts his ear to the door, turning red when he hears a loud moan.
Trying to rid himself of the mental image, Sam gulps and hurries up the stairs and out of the cabin. What should he do? Burn his ears off? Burn that part of his brain off, which will eternally have this memory? Oh God, oh God… he can't believe they decided to… and when they know he's inside the cabin?
Shit, he's going to spend his time near the cliff for at least an hour before he dares to go back in. He really doesn't want any more nightmares.
About ninety minutes later, Sam enters the cabin to find Dean and Cas making dinner together in the kitchen with Dean teaching Cas a few culinary essentials. Relieved, it makes Sam smile to see how happy his brother looks right now, along with Cas. Well, they've made up in a better way than he could ever imagine.
"Sammy," Dean greets, grinning from ear to ear. "Why'd you leave?" His expression shows that he knows full well exactly why Sam had decided to bolt.
Sam tries to look as disapproving as he can. "You fucking jerk," he retorts. "Give a guy some warning, man. I'm traumatized for life now."
Dean laughs a full laugh, making Sam's heart light up in joy at seeing his brother so happy after so long. It's not like Dean hadn't been smiling before, but now, it just looked different. It looked a lot more honest. Sam has a hard time keeping that disapproving face on right now.
He silences Dean when he opens his mouth to say something, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I am not interested in details, Dean. Shut up."
Dean chuckles, putting his hands up in surrender and getting back to cooking.
Sam watches contentedly as Dean nudges Cas's shoulder, whispers something, and Castiel snorts in response. Cas becomes a little daring and palms Dean's waist when he walks by to get to the stove. Dean retaliates by holding Cas in a mock chokehold before finally letting go and giving his angel a peck on the cheek, and this time, Sam's almost laughing out loud.
Sam looks fondly at his small family, for once not giving a fuck about the outside world. If it were up to him, he'd replay this moment over and over. He feels slightly sad knowing that if Jessica were alive and here right now, he'd probably be with her just like Dean is with Cas. Well… with less trauma and embarrassment to the others. He hopes she's in a better place now.
What Sam sees in front of him, he considers family. He wouldn't care if they never got back to the bunker at this point. Because seeing his brother laugh and smile along with Cas makes Sam know that even if something happens to him in the long run, Cas will be there.
Dean will have someone to rely on, someone to get him through each day as it comes.
~o~
Dean didn't think he could fall more in love with Cas, but he was. He was falling so hopelessly in love.
Dean's heart lifts as he thinks of how every morning he wakes up to a soft peck on the mouth. It isn't something he's used to, and he responds by running teasing fingers around the waistband of Castiel's shorts and shoving them inside, enjoying every single moan and gasp he can elicit from his angel.
Sure, he does sometimes forget that Sam is in the same room as them, and feels a slight twinge of embarrassment when Sam awkwardly shuffles out of the room, but it soon disappears when he looks at Cas.
A few days later, Dean's cooking dinner and he nearly topples over the pot on the stove when unexpected arms wrap themselves around his waist, soft lips pressing kisses to the side of his neck. He turns around, nipping at Castiel's jawline. It's only when Sam yells out and shoves past them, running toward the stove, that he realizes he's burnt the food. But somehow, he just chuckles and makes sandwiches for them while Sam grumbles about brothers and boyfriends.
The moments that Dean particularly enjoys is trapping Castiel between the wall in their bedroom and himself, as he kisses the hell out of his boyfriend, biting and licking and enjoying as they grind against each other, breaths syncing; and when he takes Cas by the hand to lead him to the guardrail so they can watch the sunset together.
Though he may never admit it out loud, he also really loves how he and Castiel can just lie in bed all day and not care about the world. They steal lube and condoms from a medical shop at the ghetto nearby. They almost get killed that night, too, but it's worth it when Cas fucks Dean in the Impala's backseat that day. They leave some lube and condoms for future use in the glove compartment and hope Sam never sees them.
"Hey, Cas?" Dean calls out one night as he holds on to his boyfriend. The sex had been exceptional today and Dean really wants more but they're both tired so he's got them both cleaned up. They had to wait a while for their heart rates to go back to normal.
"Hmm?" Cas plays absently with Dean's fingers.
Dean intertwines them with his own, pressing kisses from Cas's jawline to his neck.
"I used to pray to you," he admits.
"I know."
Dean is surprised, as he looks up at his angel. "How do you know?"
"We angels can hear the thoughts, or rather, prayers when someone is really, desperately calling out to us. We were made that way to be able to help trapped or attacked humans, back in the times of the war."
Dean looks wide-eyed. "Really?" he asks, feeling warmth rush up his cheeks when he thinks of all the things he'd said when he'd sat out near the guardrail.
Castiel smiles, the corners of his eyes scrunching up. "You are a very handsome man, Dean."
Dean blushes even harder. "Shut up," he mumbles.
Silence falls between them for a few minutes until Castiel says, "Your prayers really did help in that wretched place. So thank you."
Dean feels his heart yearn for his angel. "Well, I meant everything I said in those prayers."
"I believe you."
A few days later, Cas bakes Dean a wonderful apple pie. Dean wakes up one day, a little disheartened when he reaches next to him and finds the bed empty. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, getting to his feet and groggily padding his way to the main room.
He looks puzzled as he spots Castiel at the kitchen counter, hair mussed up and a look of concentration on his face. He's wearing Dean's apron, shirtless, and observing the oven as though it's about to lay an egg. Dean chuckles and walks over, just as the oven lets out a ping and Castiel bends forward to pull something out.
"Cas? What are you doing?"
Castiel turns around, holding up something, and Dean gasps as he looks at the glorious pie in front of him.
"I spent the last few hours trying to get this right. I had a little help from Sam with the instructions, but I hope you – mmf," Castiel is cut off as Dean pushes him against the counter, forcing him to put the pie down, and kisses Cas, hands wound around his angel's neck.
"Geez, you assholes," Sam grumbles as he walks in to spot his brother and friend basically making out in the kitchen. "Not in the kitchen, man. We eat here!"
Dean chuckles as he breaks off the kiss, throwing an apologetic look towards Sam. He then looks at the pie. "Thanks for this, Cas."
Castiel just continues to beam, looking just as proud of himself as Dean feels.
Dean really never ever thought he'd fall for Cas. But he did. And he doesn't regret it one bit.
~o~
If there's one thing Sam would change over past few days since Dean and Cas got together it would be the constant making out and fucking without warning him.
Sam doesn't know if he's ever gonna get the image out of his head from the day he'd accidently walked in on them. Another day, he'd caught them making out on the sofa. It's not that he minded it; hell, he was happy as fuck for his brother. But if Dean gave him some sort of warning or something, Sam would have been glad to leave them alone for a while rather than tarnish his memory and brain with the loud noises, banging headboards, and mental images.
Presently Sam sits near the cliff side, having taken up Dean's activity of wishing to the Evening Star. He searches the sky, soon spotting it. He has a longing in his heart and he wishes he could feel better about this, but he doesn't. He wishes he could get over it. He wishes he could stop missing Jess.
Hey, Jess. I don't know how this works, but if it does, then just know that I really miss you. And Andy. You two were probably the reason I was the least bit sane in that place. While I hate that you two died the way you did, I hope you guys are at peace now.
There's only one thing I never said to you, Jess, but you should know that when I was sane, I thought it all the time. I love you. I loved you and I'll always love you.
God, I wish you were here right now. You'd love the sunset. You'd flip out over the cabin I'm staying at right now. It's such a beautiful place.
I love you, Jess. Just know that.
Sam wipes away the stray tear that escapes his eye, and takes a shaky breath as he stands up, deciding to head back into the cabin. He's not wearing any warm clothes and sometimes it gets cold out here.
He climbs down the staircase and looks around, hoping he won't catch his brother and friend going at it again. It takes him a moment to realise that they are both decent right now and he heaves a sigh of relief. They're talking about something, though, and Sam hears his name in the mix, that along sufficing to pique his interest. Knowing he shouldn't be eavesdropping, Sam hesitates a bit before curiosity gets the best of him and he walks up, standing right outside the door, listening.
Dean and Cas, however, seem to have adopted silence. Sam's just about to leave when Cas speaks again. "Dean, can I ask you something?"
Dean hums in agreement.
"Okay, stand up," Cas replies. Sam can visualise the confusion on Dean's face. He peeks in a little more, finally seeing them there, both standing and facing each other. He wonders what Castiel is up to.
"Dean, I don't really know how to do this, but…" Cas trails off.
"What's wrong, Cas? You can ask me anything."
"It's…okay," Cas stammers and then takes a settling breath before getting down on one knee. "I don't really have a ring, so I'm just going to ask."
Sam almost gasps out loud as he watches the angel look lovingly up at Dean who is just plain stunned and flushed a deep red. "Cas, what the fuck are you doing?"
"I'm confessing my eternal love for you and asking your hand in marriage." And Cas is so, so serious, Sam's heart drops.
Dean's expressions go from shock to incredulity to confusion, until they finally land on serenity, and then he's chuckling.
"Dean, I would wait as long as you want but my knee kind of feels sore so I would appreciate a yes or no."
The chuckle gets louder until Dean's laughing, throwing his head back. He pulls Cas up and kisses him fully on the lips. "That give you your answer?" Dean asks, smirking.
Cas stares back, confused.
Dean rolls his eyes. "Of course, you moron. Yes. Yes, I'll marry you."
Cas beams and hugs Dean. He then breaks away from the hug, frowning to himself. Dean gives him a concerned look. "What's wrong?"
"I think it would have been customary for me to ask your brother's permission first, don't you think? To ask him for your hand in marriage?" Cas asks, looking a little crestfallen.
Sam can't help himself, so he barges into the room, grinning happily. "Well, you have my permission."
Castiel looks relieved and happy while Dean jumps out of his skin and blushes again, glaring at Sam. "Were you behind there, listening the whole time?"
Sam shrugs. "Well, I think we should look for some beers and celebrate."
Dean shakes his head and walks out the door, holding onto Cas's hand and pulling him along. As Dean gets over to the kitchen area with his now fiancé, Sam can't help himself.
"So when's the baby coming?" he asks, the grin growing wider on his face. "Am I gonna be an uncle now?"
"What?"
Sam laughs. "You two have been together, what, two weeks? And you're getting married. So," he says, eyeing Dean's increasingly incredulous expression as he continues, "who's pregnant?"
"Oh, you bitch, c'mere!"
Sam laughs hard, taking off and sprinting up the stairs and out the door as Dean growls and chases after him. He's taller and faster but somehow, Dean gets to him this time. Two hands grasp at his shoulders.
"You little bitch!" Dean yells again, tackling Sam to the ground.
Sam kicks at him, pushing him off and Dean rolls to grapple. Sam pushes him off again, still laughing as Dean gives up and just lies next to him as he shakes in laughter himself. They stay like that a long, long time, looking at stars, tears of mirth in both their eyes.
When they're calmed down Sam looks towards his brother, propping himself on an elbow. "Hey, Dean?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm happy for you. You deserve this."
And Dean does. He really does.