"I love you, Dean."
It took a few days for those words to start running through Dean's head. First, the pain of losing him again was all he could think about. He cut off Sam's call. He never ignored Sammy. But in that specific moment, he couldn't be the big brother. He couldn't be anything. He couldn't think about things Cas had said about him, apparently believed about him, or the tears of joy in his eyes as he realised he couldn't save himself any more, but he could save Dean. One last time. He just thought about the fact he'd lost Cas again. Thought about how much it had hurt last time. Worse, with each successive apparent death. He thought about how certain he was, that this one was it. He didn't really know why, but he knew there was no coming back from this one. God wouldn't bring him back this time. Neither Angels nor Demons could bring him back from The Empty. The Empty had been what had taken him this time. So they were all out of cosmic entities to give Cas back to them. Game over.
When Dean did answer Sam, when he made it back to Sam and Jack, they were the only ones left. It didn't lift the grief at all. Knowing every single other being on Earth was dead, along with every other version of the world, didn't stop losses like Eileen, Cas, from hurting more than anything else. There was only Dean, Sam and Jack left in the world. Even Cas hadn't made it to their grim final three.
Dean wondered if he would have done, if he hadn't sacrificed himself. Would Chuck have let Cas live, like he'd let Sam and Jack live, to punish them for refusing to obey him? Or would he have killed Cas himself, because he knew how much it would hurt them all.
There wasn't time for thoughts like that, but he had them anyway. He didn't have time, hell he didn't have the heart or balls, to tell Sam and Jack everything that had happened, in the moment. He told them the bare minimum, just what they needed to know. They needed to know Cas was dead. They needed to know that it felt pretty permanent this time. Maybe it hadn't been so important that they knew Cas had died to save Dean's life, but Chuck could have killed them all at any moment. It felt like it mattered, that Sam and Jack knew that that was how he'd gone out. That he'd sacrificed his life. That he had died doing what he always did, saving Dean Wincester. He told them Cas had summoned The Empty, saved his life, now he was gone. For that moment, that had been enough. Then Dean, Sam and Jack, needed to find the energy, the barest spark of hope, to fight one last time. Fight as the last three people on Earth, against God.
The only moment before the fight, that Dean took to talk about Cas, beyond telling them what had happened, was to talk to Jack. He hadn't known what the hell to say. The uncomprehending grief in Jack's eyes was almost too much to take. Jack, who'd believed in Cas before he was born and loved him for every minute of his insanely short life. Who had never seen just how broken Cas had been by Jack's death. Who didn't know just how little space Dean had given Cas to mourn. So even though he didn't know what to say, he stopped the boy and he said something. Then he locked it up as always, and brought the fight to God.
So even though his entire soul ached with grief, even though he didn't for one second stop thinking about him, Dean kept fighting, and for the time it took them to fight, and to win, he didn't talk about Cas.
It was tragic that Lucifer and Michael fought to their deaths for the approval of their father, whom they knew to be incapable of anything other than selfishness. Dean wondered whether he would have noticed this, if he had never met Cas. Would he have seen the parallel between his and Sam's life, and Michael and Lucifer's? Would have been capable of sympathy for the devil? He had never thought before he watched Chuck murder Michael for daring to come to his aid too slowly, that he would ever feel bad that there were so few angels left. Angels were dicks. But watching Michael's sheer power be reduced to nothing, presumably blasted to The Empty like all the others, Dean kinda thought the angels had gotten a raw deal. They had either rebelled against God and been killed, or failed to rebel against God and also been killed. The ones that weren't dicks were as dead as the others.
As Jack absorbed the power of God, and left Chuck a mere human, Dean thought about Cas again. He thought about the time he had spent as a human. How it had been heartbreaking and devastating yet funny and endearing at the same time. How guilty Dean felt and how that had been nothing to Cas's guilt. Cas, who hated his brothers and sisters almost as much as Dean hated them, would have given anything to have stopped the fall he had accidentally caused. But he had no power to do it and it had never been undone. The angels had lived with the consequences of Metatron's actions and now Chuck would live with the consequences of his own. For a human lifetime. Dean wondered what would happen to his brand new soul after that. A vindictive as hell part of him hoped it somehow made it to The Empty.
Dean had not expected Jack to leave. Sam had, Dean could tell and if he was honest, if he'd thought about it for a moment, he would have known too. But it still came as a surprise. Dean never got to tell Jack the full truth about what had happened with Cas. About what Cas had said. But he'd also gotten the feeling that he hadn't needed to. Jack knew, right? That was the deal. Jack was God now.
Jack had returned all the life lost to the world and in doing so, had relieved some of the grief. They still had people. Jodie, Donna, the girls. Other hunters around the world. People they'd helped. Sam still had Eileen. But he'd left, because Heaven was still in a mess and so Dean knew he couldn't bring Cas back. He'd fixed what God had done to the world, but only the world. Heaven, Hell and everything else, that was all still a mystery for Jack to unravel.
That left Sam and Dean to go on without him. To go back to the bunker. To go back to a different version of their lives, one which didn't need quite so much hunting because there weren't quite so many monsters. One where they weren't going to win every battle, or pick every lock, or fix every problem Baby had, because God wasn't writing their story any more. Heroes don't sweat the small stuff, Garth had said. They didn't need to be the heroes any more.
Dean thought about Cas all the time. He knew Sam did too. He knew Sam was finding it hard to move on and embrace their newfound freedom. Ironic, really. All Sam had ever wanted was a normal life and now they had a shot, he didn't know what to do with it. He missed Cas. He missed Jack. He missed everyone they'd lost and he didn't know how to move forward. So Dean had to do his best to help him.
And while he was helping, going through the motions of moving on until it became real, Dean thought about Cas all the time. They'd talked about him too. Everyone they'd lost, really, even Crowley. But they'd talked about Cas specifically, not so long after Jack left. Sam wanted to know what had happened. He knew there was more to it than Dean had told them at first, partly because Sam always knew, but also, because how the hell had Cas summoned The Empty?
Dean had told Sam everything. Every word. Every moment. Starting with his own realisation that Death was going to kill Cas, then him, and that there was nothing either of them could do about it. Ending with Cas' last words, and the fact he hadn't said anything in return.
Dean had been surprised to find it wasn't hard to talk about. It felt like unburdening. He could talk about what Cas had said, about him, about their lives, with openness he couldn't give to his own emotions, his own feelings about everything Cas had done for him.
Sammy's eyes had shone with tears and then, because he was far more courageous where it mattered than Dean could ever hope to be, he'd just let them fall, right in front of his brother. And somewhere in Sam's grief had been something approaching pride, and Dean had understood. Because damn, Cas, that was a hell of a way to go. Hell of a sacrifice. When Dean had gone to Hell for Sam, at least Hell had been some kind of quantifiable thing, and Dean had been dragged there against his will. Cas had summoned the Empty. How did he even have that kind of power? How did that one angel seem to influence Heaven, Hell and everything in between? What even was the Empty?
And it was that, really, that made it so hard to keep thinking about him. About everyone they'd lost, of course, but all the others, they were in Heaven now, right?
For the first couple of weeks, they talked about it all. If Jack was God now, did that mean the rules of Heaven had changed? The human souls trapped in Hell because of the rule about souls who'd been in Hell entering Heaven? It must have done. Kevin would be in Heaven now, along with anyone else wrongfully trapped in Hell. Jack wouldn't have allowed anything else. But The Empty was something else entirely. Death had said it, Chuck had said it, The Empty itself had said it according to Cas. God had no influence there. So to begin with, at least, they didn't talk about that. They just talked about what Cas had said.
"I love you, Dean."
"I'm not um, I'm not saying for certain he meant it…that way but-" Dean swallowed. Dude was dead, he could get ahold of his fragile masculinity.
"I don't know, Dean, it sounds pretty unambiguous to me." Sam replied, eyes resting somewhere on his beer, but glazed over, somewhere else entirely.
"Yeah, yeah I guess."
"Does that matter to you?" Sam asked. Dean had told him the entire story, including his own complete failure to respond and Sam had only smiled through his tears and said it didn't sound like Cas had been expecting a response. He'd barely given Dean a chance to think and if they knew Cas, that was because if Dean had had time to respond, he'd have had time to try to stop him.
Did it matter to him? Dean had thought about that part a good bit too. He had never really thought about whether Angel-Cas at least, even had a concept of romantic love. Human-Cas had had that thing with April and then, maybe his boss at the Gas'n'Sip. Angel-Cas' closest thing to a romantic relationship had been that absolute freakshow with Meg and that had seemed to start with experimentation on Cas' part and move to a strange hang up of his Crazy self pre-purgatory.
He heard himself huff a faint laugh.
"No. Hell I don't even know what that means to an angel. I loved him too. Maybe not like that but, does it matter?"
Sam smiled.
"I don't think so. And he did know you loved him, Dean. I know you didn't say anything, but he knows how hard you fought to get him back every time something went wrong."
That much, Dean hoped was true at least. He had never thought Cas didn't know how much he cared, even when he wasn't doing a great job of showing it. He wished… he wished so many things. He wished he hadn't blown up at Cas quite so many times, especially knowing what he did now, about how Cas felt. He wished he hadn't failed to consider Cas in the equation whatsoever, quite so many times. He thought about just after Mary died, when he'd told Cas to 'get on board or step aside'. Get on board, with Dean's plan to murder Cas' son. How he'd kept right on saying it. How he'd almost killed Jack in front of Cas. How Cas had watched Chuck kill Jack instead and how Dean really hadn't spared him a moment's sympathy. He hadn't considered Cas' right to grieve, when his own grief was still too close. He thought about the strength and loyalty it had taken for Cas to stand up to him, knowing as he did now, just how much Cas thought he owed Dean.
"He was right, you know." Sam murmured, glancing up from his beer for long enough to catch Dean's eyes. He still looked so tired, so weighed down by grief.
"What he said about you."
Dean scoffed.
"Yeah right. Dude said I was selfless, right while he was sacrificing himself for me."
Sam inclined his head in acknowledgement of that point at least. Cas had maybe underestimated his own selflessness.
"Yeah, but Cas never forgave himself for opening purgatory. That doesn't mean he wasn't right. Without you, he'd have obeyed heaven. How many alternate versions of him have we met? Every single one of them was a standard angel-douche. It was you that showed him he could be better. Every good thing he did, he did because of you."
Dean shook his head. Since he was unburdening, he might as well do it right.
"I never gave him a single inch, Sam. Every time he screwed up I let him know it. I ignored him. Can you imagine how petty you have to be to ignore an angel? He didn't know any other people. There he is following me around and I'm pretending he doesn't exist. And I can't think of a single thing I ever did to him that he didn't just instantly forgive me for."
"You're human, Dean. He wasn't. He never asked you to be anything else." Sam pointed out. His voice was soft and his eyes still shining with tears. Dean could hear he was proud of him now as well as Cas, probably for talking about his feelings.
"No, but I did." Dean replied. "I asked him to be human. I punished him for not being. Do you know right after Chuck killed Jack, he told me, like he out loud, told me, that he couldn't be around Belphegor. He was almost crying. I didn't think about how much pain he was in for a single second, I just thought he was messing up by not doing what I needed him to do again."
He remembered praying to him in purgatory. He remembered almost sobbing through his long overdue apology because he thought it might be too late. He knew he'd messed up when Cas had walked out of the bunker. Hell, he'd known before then, he'd known as the stupid, unfair and accusatory words that had sent him away had blurted out almost without his consent. Why does that something always seem to be you? Yet he could have prayed to Cas at any moment and brought him back. Somehow he'd known that was all it would have taken, too. Cas might have been ignoring Sam's calls, but he wouldn't ignore Dean. He didn't even need to call. He could have just directed a thought his way, let Cas know he hadn't meant it and he was sorry and he'd have come back. But he hadn't, because he'd been angry and grieving and he hadn't cared if Cas was offended.
He remembered the feeling of shame that had suddenly hit him, on their awkward walk through purgatory, when Cas had calmly shut down his attempts to provoke an argument. "I've apologised to you enough."
Why did the guilt hit him harder when Cas was no longer responding? In the bunker, Cas had looked devastated. Dean hadn't wanted to acknowledge it, but he'd seen. He'd just buried it down inside and assumed that too was Cas' own fault. But in Purgatory, he'd seemed closed off. He'd never pretended for a moment that he didn't care about Dean, so it was not a surprise that he offered his condolences for Benny. It had been a surprise, that he had otherwise pulled away from engagement with Dean, the moment Dean had made it clear he was still angry. Dean remembered registering the defeat it indicated. Cas really didn't believe they'd fix it this time. He remembered anger being drowned out for the first time by shame and guilt, though he ignored both, again.
He remembered anger draining away completely, replaced by increasing desperation as he looked for Cas against the clock. He remembered the self-loathing that had washed over him as he'd realised prayer was all he had left. A prayer that might well have been too late. He remembered the tidal wave of relief when he'd heard Cas' voice and seen he was alive. A little beaten up, but then he was always a little beaten up by that point. He remembered feeling the way Cas had sunk against him as he'd hugged him. Relief, which had nothing to do with them finding each other before the clock ran out in purgatory, everything to do with long overdue forgiveness.
If he thought about it after Cas was taken by the Empty, Dean found this memory harder than most. Knowing how Cas felt.
Sam's voice broke through his memories. The times he should have done better.
"You were grieving and angry- I'm not excusing it, Dean." Sam interrupted himself before Dean could. "You don't need to tell me about how harsh you can be when you're hurt. I'm just saying, Cas forgave it. Maybe you should too."
And wasn't that just exactly the problem. Cas had strode into his life all those years ago and not understood why Dean Wincester would think he didn't deserved to be saved and then right at the end, right when it was once again Cas doing the saving, right when he least deserved Cas' kindness and …love, Cas had told him all those things. He'd told him all those things and then he'd gone from his life for good, before Dean could say a word in return. Before Dean could point out that his non-human best friend had taught Dean more about sacrifice, grace and kindness than any human ever could.
In the absence of an option to save Cas, or even to tell him how much he meant to him, Dean couldn't do less than try to be exactly who Cas had apparently always thought he was.
So when he thought about Cas, he wished he'd known how he felt. He wished he was certain that it would have changed the way Dean had treated him, on occasion. He wished he hadn't caused Cas pain he hadn't known about. But it wasn't really any of that, that he thought about, most of the time. He didn't focus on regret. He thought about all the times they'd laughed, and shouted, run and fought and just been together. He thought about Cas all the time and he just missed him. And he hoped so badly that he knew.
"Do you think…Jack is running heaven now, right?" Sam mentioned, fingers tightening slightly on his beer bottle, letting Dean know that this was what he'd been thinking about the whole time.
"Yeah, I know, I thought the same." Dean admitted. Was there a chance even, that Cas did know?
"Death said God had no power in the Empty." He pointed out, unsure whether he was trying to avoid false hope, or whether he wanted Sam to argue with him.
"But we know that Jack did." Sam argued, a slight smile crossing Dean's face as he did. "Jack woke Cas up in the Empty once before. Besides, Death was either lying or wrong. Chuck got Lucifer out of the Empty. It has to be possible, right?"
Dean nodded. It was possible. He hoped it was possible. He'd thought about why, if Jack had gotten Cas out of the Empty, why he hadn't returned him to them but then, did Earth, or even just Sam and Dean, really need anything more from Cas? Had he not earned the right to go home, after so many years cast out?
"You know I…think about him a lot. Not the bad things, so much, just him being here. Sometimes I tell him out loud, like we used to if we were praying to him." Dean was surprised to find even this admission wasn't hard to speak aloud. "I hope he hears, you know. Hope he knows I miss him."
Sam nodded, smiling once again, tears finally gone from his eyes.
"Maybe he does."
It was after that conversation that Dean had started pushing them to move on. To really live their lives. He made breakfast, he walked the dog, he prodded Sam to contact Eileen. Anything, to pretend they lived a normal life, until it became real.
It wasn't until the day of the pie fest, that Sam brought it up again. He'd seemed sad all day, which at a pie fest was just wrong, and old-Dean would have bitched at him about it. Instead, he tried talking.
"I know that face, that's Sad-Sam face."
"I'm not Sad-Sam. I'm just…I'm thinking about Cas, you know? And Jack. If they could be here."
Dean nodded, thinking to himself that once upon a time, the response he gave Sam would have been defensive and angry, even though he'd asked him what was wrong.
"Yeah." He said instead. "Yeah no I think about 'em, too."
Sam watched him, waiting to talk, wanting to talk, because despite the months, despite the peace, he just wasn't ready yet to try living instead of remembering.
"You know what, that pain's not going to go away." Dean went on, trying to be gentle. "Right? But if we don't keep living, then all that sacrifice is going to be for nothing."
Gentle part done, he returned to his more usual self.
"So quit being a friggin' Eeyore, okay?"
He probably deserved the pie to the face he got in response. It was worth it too, to see Sam smile. And all the while, he thought about Cas. He imagined the confusion on his face, the questioning head-tilt as he'd tried to work out why Sam had tried to feed Dean in such an impractical manner.
The rebar fucking hurt. He wouldn't have chosen to go out that way. On a hunt, sure, he'd always figured, but preferably not something so messy, or so dumb. Still, at least it gave him a chance to say goodbye to Sam. And because they weren't going to have to give manly coughs and keep going about their days after this one, he didn't hold back in the heart to heart. He wished he could stop Sam's desperate tears. He wished he didn't know that Sam was already struggling with grief and that Dean was asking him to do something he knew he himself would never have been able to do. But Sam would. He had to. In the last few minutes, most of his focus was on Sam, and the pain, but he still thought about Cas. He thought about how pissed he'd be that after sacrificing himself to Hell 2.0 to save Dean, Dean had barely made a it a few months further down the road.
Then the sun hit his face and it was daylight in some part of northern USA. The pain was gone, the knowledge Sam was alone and broken seemed distant somehow. The sun felt good, everything else felt… heavy. He was dead. This must be heaven. A memory he could live out, alone, for eternity.
Except it wasn't a memory. It was real heaven. Where there was peace and light and the walls were gone. Bobby was there, his parents were there, they all would be here somewhere.
"So Jack did all this?" He asked Bobby, awe and perhaps, a note of humility in his voice. Dean had doubted Jack more than anyone else in New God's short human lifetime.
"Well," Bobby said, a distinctly knowing tone in his voice. "Cas helped."
Dean looked at him for a minute, before a smile and a half chuckle escaped him. Cas, huh.
He knew.