They reached the Bunker safely, without any quarrels. Sam and Dean didn't ask her questions, and even offered to give them space for a few days (on the condition that their questions would be answered when they returned). Mary went off on her own for whatever she needed, and Kylie… She came back with him. She didn't leave. She sat next to him, the whole car ride back, stunned and scared and silent, but not crying.
That night, they shared the same bed out of tiredness and fear, clinging to each other as they laid side by side, not a word spoken because neither knew what to say.
He supposed that this was how Sam and Dean felt when their mother returned. A mixture of emotions, all intertwining with each other without any true clear means of reason or path to expression. Each time he saw her, it was as though he was seeing her again for the first time. He stared at her for long periods of time, he knew. She had even brought it to her attention.
But he couldn't help it. He had gotten used to seeing her gone, and now with her here again… He was afraid that this may be one of his best dreams, the dream of her physically being there with him, and that any given moment he would wake up and once again be disillusioned from it all.
He was afraid to watch her rest, afraid himself to lay down next to her and shut his own eyes. He did not need sleep, that was true, so he didn't. He stayed awake, afraid to leave the same room she inhabited for fear of her disappearing, afraid to touch her for fear of her crumbling away like burnt paper in to the infernos of Hell, just… Just afraid.
Afraid that this Heaven he had been given a piece of may disappear and show that he was in Hell after all; that he had died when he had been stabbed, and this was his eternal torment – being taunted with the possibility, the hope, the belief that she was back and alive and that he hadn't killed her, only to watch it be yanked out from under him again and again and again.
So far, though, that had had yet to happen. She hadn't left or disappeared, and her habit of just, well… Disappearing and reappearing seemed to be shut down, for the moment. If she went somewhere, she told him and took one of the cars ("I have to check in with my superiors, make sure that they're not about to send a manhunt after me and let them know I plan on being away for a few days." "I promised Crowley I'd meet up with him. I'll be back in a few hours, don't worry." "I'm going to go pick up a few groceries, probably beer for the boys. Do you want anything?" "I'll be back in a minute. I just have to make a call."). She was polite. She was quiet. She was…
She was different. That was the biggest thing. This wasn't the same bright and energetic and hopeful and positive woman he had proposed to. This person that stood in her stead, that looked exactly like her… She was quieter. She was more withdrawn, more cautious. More self-conscious in a way that inhibited her choices. Where she would normally smile, and write out a list of everything she intended to get before she borrowed a car or walked she now just left, taking inventory herself and getting what she figured were safe to stock in the fridge (and what she could fit within a large backpack). Where she would sit and read with a small smile on her face, she would float and the fireplace would be alight, acting out whatever it was she read until she realized what was happening. Then she would slam the book shut, the flames extinguished in an instant, as she came back to the ground and put her book away.
Where she would sleep soundly, with that same small smile gracing her features every once in a while, she now didn't rest until four or so in the morning, rising at seven every time to continue what she was doing before resting.
This wasn't the same woman Castiel had met, the same one he had such fond memories of.
But then again, it was her still, wasn't it? It was her smile, just a little different. Her hair, just a new color. Her walk, her voice, her words, just with different tones. It was still her.
It just wasn't the same her. Not anymore.
There were things she wasn't telling him, things she wasn't telling any of them, and he knew it. He hadn't even gotten around to asking her how in the hell she was still alive, much less why she had hidden for so long. She had given out some information on the way – Lucifer had tried to kill her, she'd gone witch to survive, and she'd been trained by Crowley and… And Billie.
The Reaper that Castiel had killed.
From the sound of her voice when she said that, Castiel suspected that she knew of Billie's death. From the way she wouldn't look at him, he knew she was aware that he had killed the Reaper. She didn't say anything on it, though. Castiel didn't say anything either.
There were a lot of things that neither of them were saying. Castiel wanted to tell her she was loved, wanted to tell her that he didn't see the new her any less desirable than the woman he had originally known. He wanted to tell her everything and anything, but there never seemed to be the right words or time to do it.
So instead, they just acted as though they were back as square one, with neither one quite certain as to what to do around the other, but the both of them stumbling and stuttering to try and figure it out.
They were sitting alone, in the Bunker. Dean and Sam had gone out for a food run, and weren't comfortable bringing the both of them out, or being with them, or really… well…
Were Sam and Dean really ever comfortable with anything?
But they decided to leave Kylie and Castiel there, in the Bunker, alone together. Kylie was doing research, and Castiel was…
Castiel wasn't able to take it anymore. He just… He couldn't. He couldn't take the prolonged silences and the watching and standing on eggshells and the pure desire to just… just…
"Kylie," he said her name roughly, a little rougher than he intended. Everything was just so backed up and quiet within his mind, and it was finally starting to bleed out.
She looked up from her typing, a polite expression on her face. "Yes, Castiel?"
"Don't." He started. "Please, just… don't."
"Is something wrong?"
"Don't call me Castiel." He said. "Don't… Don't act as though everything is fine, don't keep that polite expression on your face, don't pretend that there is nothing wrong when we both can clearly see that there are things wrong between us two."
"Well…" She thought for a minute, keeping her voice and expression composed. "What do you think is wrong?"
"This entire situation is wrong!" He exclaimed. "You're here and you're acting as though everything is fine or alright when it's not, not really."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean this!" He gestured to her person, uncertain as to what else to do. "I mean your hesitancy and your lack of voice and the way you seem to be so… just… Not you." His anger faded away as he spoke, uncertain as to what best to say.
How could he call her not her, when it was her? Wasn't he just trying to make that point earlier in his head?
"I'm trying to adjust as well, Castiel." She said, her voice soft. "I'm trying to figure out how best to be around you too."
"Don't think about it." He pleaded. "Just… Just be you. Please. I missed you. I want you back, not this…" He struggled to find out how to describe the woman before him. "This… This person that doesn't seem to smile anymore." It was bad, he knew it. It was awful. He just didn't understand how to tell her everything, didn't know how to say he missed her nonsensical chatter somedays, or the way that she was so full of energy that he could see it seeping through her very being, or how she laughed and hummed along to whatever music she was listening to as she worked.
That was what he wanted back. Her, comfortable and happy and so purely her that there was no adjective to describe it, just the pronoun.
She nodded, and offered him a polite smile. Not a real one, just one that she was doing in an attempt to work with what he was asking. "OK."
"And don't…" He took a deep breath. Maybe this would be a step in the right direction. "Don't keep calling me Castiel. It makes me feel as though I am a stranger to you. Please just… at least go back to calling me Cas."
She sat for a while, thinking on that or whatever was on her mind with a faraway look on her eyes. "I'm sorry if I've seemed distant." She finally said. "I'm honestly not certain what to do about this or how to talk with you guys anymore like I used to. On one hand, I want to pretend that nothing has changed and go back to the way things used to be, but on the other hand," she held up one to punctuate her point, and in it she created a small tornado for just a moment before dissipating it. "I'm not the same person I was. Things have changed, and I know that Sam and Dean hate witches and the thought of me being one…" Castiel had to agree in part that the Winchesters were never favorable when it came to witches, but… They hadn't shown any outward disdain and hate. What was she talking about? "But I don't want to hide and disappear again. I missed you too much. I missed all of this." She took a deep breath. "So… I'm sorry, Cas." She offered him a small smile, then, that sly one reminiscent of earlier times, the one that was just her smile.
That was her genuine smile, not the polite one.
That was what made Castiel's heart feel lighter.
"Don't apologize." He said. "Just… Talk with me, instead, if that is alright." At that, her face fell. "I want to know." He pushed, determined to keep this conversation going. "I know it may not all be pleasant. I know that there may be hard things for you to say or me to hear, but I want to know. I want to be here for you, Kylie, not just standing on the outside with so much uncertainty." There, those were the right words. He could feel that they were.
But Kylie just sighed, shaking her head. "There's a lot to tell." She said. "None of it is good, and by the end of it…" She looked down, and shrugged. "I can't guarantee you'll still want me around anymore."
She was nervous. She was afraid. She was… She was tired. There was a large burden within her that she had been bearing for a long time now, and it was crushing her quietly.
Castiel reached across the table, and clasped one of her hands lightly. With his other, he reached around his neck and took off the necklace he wore, her ring the only thing on it. "Kylie," he pressed the ring in to her palm, and she looked up at him with surprise. Not apprehension. Not fear. Just surprise. "I'm not proposing to you again right now." He clarified quickly. "But I do still love you. I want you to keep this," he closed her fingers around it, holding her fist lightly. "And remember that no matter what has transpired or what will come, this still is yours, because I my feelings for you have not lessened, no matter how much I wished some days that they would when I believed you to be…" He couldn't say the word. Not with her right in front of him and alive. "Gone." He substituted. "And they will not lessen, no matter the consequences."
He withdrew his hands, and stood from his chair. Kylie just sat there, looking from him to her closed fist in wonder and amazement. "I… I… Cas…" She was stuttering slightly, and he couldn't help but smile. It was the same stutter she used when she was flustered.
"You may be a different person, now." He amended. "But you're still the same person I love." He walked away, then, headed towards the kitchen.
"Where are you going?" Her voice called after him, almost frantic, as he heard her footsteps follow.
"I'm going to get you some tea." He answered, turning. She still held the ring in a clasped fist, still looked unbelievably surprised. "You look as though you need some."
"OK." She said, smiling a different smile now. Her quiet one, the one that expressed shy happiness. She took her fist, opening it to gaze at the necklace inside. Castiel turned around, walking back to the kitchen so that he could make them both tea.
When he returned, she was wearing the necklace, with the ring tucked under her shirt as he had worn it. He couldn't help but smile at the progress, setting the tea down in front of her.
"What do you want to know?" She asked. Castiel thought for a moment, choosing his first question carefully.
"How are you doing?" He decided. Kylie had been taking a sip of her tea, but she couldn't hold back the small amount of laughter that escaped her lips at his question.
"It's been so long, and that's what you ask?" She laughed with the question, as though she couldn't believe him but was happy for the fact. "How am I doing?"
"It's the same question you used to ask me for a very long time." He reminded her. "I thought it was only fair I ask you the same."
"I… I'm doing OK, I guess." She said. "I've been doing really well with the Men of Letters in London, actually."
"You've been working with them?"
"Yeah."
"How long?"
"A few months." She explained. "Before that I was living with Mrs. Tran. I went to college. I… I tried the normal life thing."
"Did you try to be a therapist?"
"I was just trying to figure myself out, I guess." She said. "I took a psych class, though. That was fun."
"What…" He thought about his next question. "How come you hid for so long?"
"I was scared, I guess." She said. "I was absolutely terrified. Lucifer was wearing you like a tuxedo and Amara was looking deadlier and deadlier by the minute and when Sam blamed me for killing Dean…" She shook her head, but Castiel felt confused. He remembered Lucifer, and Amara, but when had Sam blamed her for anything?
"What do you mean, Sam thought you killed Dean?" He asked. Kylie stopped, taking a deep breath.
"There…" She sighed. "There are a lot of things you don't remember."
"Why?"
"Because I made you forget." She admitted. "I was scared that you would start to hate me for who I became, like Sam already did, and I would have to watch that happen, so I did the one thing I could think to do. I preserved your better memories of me, and made you and Sam and Dean and Rowena think I was still dead." She put a hand on his head, and it was as though he'd been electrocuted.
In an instant, he was back in his memories, watching Kylie through Lucifer's eyes. She was disguised as Diana, and neither of them knew it was her just yet. Working with Metatron to free them and get them out of there. She seemed colder then, harder, but just as focused as she always was. Lucifer wasn't happy about needed to be rescued by a former vessel, a prophet, a random witch, and the scrappy human scribe. He'd thought she was useful for getting him freed, but useless when it came to the getaway plan.
When Lucifer had seen how close Diana looked to God, he felt jealousy and rage, more so when he refused to answer to her involvement.
He'd thought it was interesting, though, how she seemed to get along with both Rowena and Crowley, when the pair alone absolutely loathed each other.
And then Lucifer was gone, but Castiel remained. She… She was there. I heard a scream in my delirium, and when I looked over saw Diana… But it wasn't Diana, of course. It was Kylie. Or, at least, it looked like her. He could… He could see both of them, side by side, like a distorted mirror.
He couldn't tell who the scream was coming from, in all honesty. It resonated in his ears for a long time before fading out, along with his consciousness.
When he came to, though, all he saw was a woman, leaning up against a strut, slumped like a broken doll. Her hair fell in her face in waves, and one of her arms was splayed out before her as limp as the rest of her. Castiel ran to check on her, first – to check her vitals.
When he moved the hair from her face, though, he couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe it was her. He almost wanted to cry in relief and happiness, but he couldn't because she still wasn't awake. She still… She wasn't moving. He couldn't even tell if she was breathing.
He could see the outline of the Mark pulse faintly under the skin of her arm before disappearing altogether. She must've offered to take the Mark on instead of Sam. She offered to sacrifice herself and everything, so that they wouldn't have to.
"Dammit, Kylie." He muttered, shaking his head. Why did she always have to do things like this? He put a hand to the back of her head, and felt blood. She must've hit it against the strut when she fell. He healed it easily, thankful that he could do something to help her already.
But she still wasn't waking up. She had to wake up. He could feel she was alive, now, but… She just wasn't waking up. She was barely breathing. She was…
She was alive, but in the moment she felt as cold as death. He grabbed her hand, the outstretched one, making sure that he could feel her pulse under my fingers, and it was there that he saw it.
Castiel saw the engagement ring that he had given her, still shining brightly on her finger. She had kept it. Throughout everything, she had kept it.
"Kylie," Cas said her name with such sorrow. He felt guilty. He had done… So much to hurt her. He had freed Lucifer. He had caused her to be cast out, and somehow, she had survived. He hadn't even looked for her, he had just assumed she was dead, that Lucifer had killed her.
But here she was, alive, and still wearing that ring.
Castiel shook her, suddenly desperate. She had to wake up. She had to stay alive. He wouldn't let her die. He wouldn't fail her like that. "Kylie, please get up." He begged. "Please wake up."
He wanted to apologize, to hold her close and never let her go. But he couldn't do that, not to an unconscious person. Those were things that needed to be said and done with her, awake and alive and…
Did she even still love him?
Did she even still want him to be here like this?
Cas was so enraptured in his thoughts, he almost missed her speak. "Five more minutes." She requested, her voice sleepy as she began to stir.
"She's alive!" He shouted, more for myself than for Sam or Dean. he couldn't believe it, she was here. She was breathing. She was awake.
She was alive. Kylie Dillinger was alive.
When she opened her eyes, though, his heart broke in two. The second she recognized him, she put as much distance as possible between herself and him.
"No, no, Kylie!" Cas spoke fast, realizing her fear. She didn't know it was him. She looked at Castiel… And she saw Lucifer. I kneeled before her, putting out a single hand. "It's me. It's Cas."
"Castiel?" She asked, sounding hopeful. I nodded, hoping she would believe me, and watched as she examined me for what felt like an eternity before she saw it was, indeed, me.
"Lucifer," she started to ask, her voice shaky.
"Amara expelled him from me." I explained.
"Amara was going back in the cage." She argued, shaking her head. "The Mark, it was being put on my arm," As if to prove her point, she looked down at where the branding had been. When it wasn't there, she looked back at me, and I could see the terror on her face. I hung my head in shame. Everything we had done had been for naught.
"We failed."
"Is Chuck OK?" She asked, trying to stand. She was doing what she always did, her best to try and keep moving even though the situation was grim. She can't fix the failure, so she moves on to assess the damages and current outcomes. She almost succeeded in standing, too, but didn't quite make it. She fell back to the ground, groaning in pain as she looked about to lose her lunch. I stayed down next to her, uncertain as to what to do to be helpful.
They argued, and I watched, marveling at the fact that she was alive, as well as the differences in who she was now. This wasn't the same Kylie I thought I had watched died. I could see it in the way she stood, the way she walked, the way she held herself. The Kylie I had known before wouldn't have that solemn look on her face, the one of knowing and certainty that this was the end, but she wasn't going to go down without a fight. The feeling was the same, I wouldn't expect anything less from her, but…
There was no fear. No concern. Just grim determination.
It was the same look I'd seen in Dean and Sam's eyes so often, the same look I'd always feared seeing in her own eyes; the look that showed she was more than willing to run headlong in to a suicide mission, fully aware that it would kill her and simply not caring. The ends would justify the suicide, in her mind.
I wasn't certain what to do. I felt as though I should be comforting her, telling her we would find a way, but she looked like stone. If anything, she may be the one holding me up in the end. And the look in her eyes when she realized I wasn't Lucifer… That wasn't happiness. That wasn't hope. That wasn't anything I would expect from seeing us re-unite. It was… Factual. Acknowledgement, assessment, and application. What facts were in front of her, what they meant, and how she could use them to continue moving forwards.
I remembered that same look myself when I first came down to Earth, that same method of approach to dealing with situations before I… Before I understood what humanity was.
This wasn't the same Kylie. She had died, and a new one was in her stead, one that had made the choice to become a powerful witch, and combat the Darkness with her powers..
When Rowena and Crowley came in, I looked up and saw Crowley watching her as well, actual concern coloring his face. It made me feel jealousy to see that. He'd known. He'd known this whole time that she was alive. They'd been together, hiding or planning or something.
For a moment, I wondered if something between them had occurred.
I forced the thought out of my head, and looked up at what everyone else was looking at. That was when I fully understood the ramifications of what was going on.
Kylie was alive, and she was about to die again. We were all going to die, with God, because the world was about to end.
Sam and Dean were so angry with her, so confused and worried and going about it in all the wrong ways. "You left us. You abandoned us with Lucifer and the Darkness, and for what?" Dean asked, fury in his voice. "How could you keep that from us, keep you being alive from us?"
"Yeah, and what happened last time I pulled a Lazarus?" She asked in response. Cas couldn't help but wince at that. "I show up to what? A demon in the closet, an angel bragging about a bang-and-kill, and you, telling me I can't stay."
"You know why we had to that." Dean argued. "And why I had to have you AND CAS leave."
"You think I'm done?" She challenged him. "Let's keep going through the history, shall we? Let's look at who almost threw me out a second time for using magic to try and find you plus keep him and Cas safe and healthy."
"Now hold on," Sam tried to interrupt, but Kylie waved a him off.
"And you know what I did?" She asked them. "I did the exact same thing you two do every single time – I chose life!" The words came out as a shout as she stood, full of fury herself. "I saw Lucifer for Lucifer before either of you did, and he tried to kill me because I wouldn't betray you two. I got sent to the FUCKING ARCTIC CIRLE, boys, and I was going to DIE if I didn't do SOMETHING. So now you tell me, would have rather me given up and DIE," She looked at each of them in turn, the fire never leaving her eyes. "Or live, like I did, so I could do everything I could to try and help you guys?" Castiel knew what he wanted to say, but he was too stunned by her words. She… she had gone through so much, and she fully believed that they hated her for it.
His silence was misunderstood, though, and she shook her head. "Unbelievable." She turned to him, then, her voice quieter but still just as angry. "And you chose Lucifer. You asked me to move in with you, to marry you and spend a life together with you. You promised me a life together, but you know what?"
"Don't." He begged, his voice quiet. He didn't want to hear the rest. He didn't want a reminder of his failures. He didn't want her to say she was through with him, that she hated him and didn't want him around and that he had made the worst mistake he could have possibly committed.
"The apartment is gone, Castiel," She told him, and he felt his heart sink even deeper. "Everything is gone. And I remember how much you hated me using magic, too. I remember the fury when you found out that I saved you, that I would've sacrificed myself to keep you alive. Now look at me!" She raised a hand, and the page she had been working on burnt to ash. Castiel stared at it in shock. She had never done anything like that before, never just recklessly destroyed something to prove a point. "I am the thing that you hated," she hissed, and he could tell that she believed those words herself even. "I'm the monster you two would put down without a second's thought, aren't I?"
She thought she was abhorred for her decisions, that they had been wasted for nothing, and that all she deserved now was what Sam and Dean did best – a bullet put between her eyes.
His heart shattered completely when she put the ring back in his hand, her actions softer now. She felt bad for what she'd done, felt ashamed, felt even more like that monster she was so certain that we all saw her as.
But she didn't stop. She didn't give up. She didn't want the world to end. When he and Dean came back, she was still working out ideas, still thinking and tinkering away with that same determination he had seen in her, the same kind of focus and drive that never left her if she was adamant on attempting to fight her own goliath.
Dean had given him advice, in the car ride. "She's confused. She's scared. We all are. We're just… we're trying. I handled it bad, I know I did, but… Look man, this is the end of the world. If she wants to end it with grudges, let her end it with grudges, but I honestly don't think that's the case. I think she just… She just wants someone to tell her it's OK, that the sacrifice wasn't for nothing." He chuckled a little. "Remember when the Apocalypse was our biggest problem?"
"Yes."
"And do you remember when I was ready to throw in the towel, to say yes to Michael just so it would all be over?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember what you did?" Castiel did, vividly.
"I…" He looked away, smiling though he was slightly abashed. "I believe the phrase is: 'I kicked your ass.'" Dean laughed out loud at that.
"Yeah. Yeah you did. And I deserved it." He nodded. "What she did in there, that explosion, it reminded me of that. She just sacrificed everything she believed in, she worked with Crowley of all people, and there are a lot of things about herself that she's questioning now. I didn't help. Sam didn't help. We're all just very, very, very terrified." He sighed. "Kylie's just the only one that finally let it show."
"So… What should I do?"
"Let her know that you're still here for her." He said. "But don't push her. Don't say anything like that you forgive her when she hasn't apologized, that'll just make things worse, and in all honesty she doesn't have a lot to apologize for. She's gone through a lot, lost about as much in a few years as me and Sam have throughout our lifetime. Just… Give her space, and give her time." He concluded. "Let her know you're here, but let her figure out what she wants on her own as well."
"How do I do that?"
"Start with something small." He said. "Offer to help her with her work. Bring her some tea. Tell her you're not angry and that you understand, but let her guide how things go." He stopped, seeing his phone was ringing. "Gimme a sec. It's Sam."
And Sam, who was just as scared as everyone else, finally lashing out himself. Blaming Kylie, but not really. He just… He didn't want his brother to die. He had offered himself for the Mark of Cain, done what he could, but it hadn't mattered. His brother was still dying for them. He was still losing the only blood relative he had left.
He lashed out because he was scared to be alone.
Castiel tried to mediate this, tried to do what Dean had told him. "Kylie," he caught her hand, for a moment happy at the reminder that she was physical and real. "Wait, just… Wait."
"What's up?" She asked.
"I can't keep this." He pulled the ring back out of his pocket. She shook her head, but he was determined for her to keep it. "I love you, and I'm not going to stop. I don't care that you're a witch, I don't care what you chose, and I understand why you said what you did. But I can't just give up. I thought I'd lost you, Kylie." He took her hand gently, as though it would break any moment, and placed the ring in her palm. "I'm not asking for you to agree to marry me again. All I'm asking is that you… Don't cut me out from your life. I told you, a life without you, to me, isn't one worth being in. I understand if that's not what you want, but I wanted to at least try." He wanted her to say yes again, say that she would at least keep it. When she pushed it back towards him, he kept up the same smile. "I gave that to you, willingly. I will always be here for you, if you will allow me to do so." He said. "Please, keep it, as a reminder."
Then he took a sip of his beer, and it was as though she was never there.
