Where the Rain Falls
The rain pelted down in relentless sheets, turning the night into a symphony of pattering drops and distant thunder. Dean Winchester tightened his grip on the steering wheel, squinting through the windshield as the Impala's wipers struggled to keep up. The dark road ahead seemed endless, swallowed by the storm.
Next to him, Castiel sat in his usual place, gazing out at the rain with a calmness that belied the turmoil inside the car. The former angel's trench coat was slightly damp from the earlier dash to the Impala, but he didn't seem to mind. He rarely did, when it came to earthly discomforts.
"Cas," Dean began, his voice low, barely audible over the rain. "You sure this is the right way?"
Castiel turned his head to meet Dean's eyes, his blue gaze steady. "Yes. We're close."
Dean nodded, trusting Castiel as he always did. Even after all these years, the bond between them had only grown stronger, forged in fire and tempered by loss. But tonight, there was something different in the air—something unspoken that hung between them like the mist that clung to the road.
As they drove on, Dean's thoughts drifted to the mission at hand. A routine hunt, they'd said. Nothing they hadn't faced before. But Dean knew better than to trust in routine. Especially when it came to the kind of monsters they hunted.
After a while, the road led them to an old, abandoned church, its silhouette barely visible through the storm. Dean pulled the Impala to a stop, the engine idling as he stared at the crumbling building.
"This is it," Castiel said, his voice tinged with a hint of something Dean couldn't quite place.
"Alright," Dean replied, cutting the engine. "Let's get this over with."
They stepped out into the rain, the cold droplets instantly soaking through their clothes. The church loomed ahead, dark and foreboding, but it wasn't the building that made Dean's heart race. It was the man—no, the being—beside him.
Castiel had been through hell and back—literally—and yet he stood there, unwavering, his presence a constant in Dean's chaotic world. Dean couldn't imagine a life without Cas, couldn't fathom a future where they weren't side by side, fighting whatever the world threw at them.
They made their way into the church, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The interior was as decayed as the outside, but there was a quiet stillness to it that felt almost peaceful. Castiel stopped in the center of the room, his gaze fixed on something unseen.
"It's here," he murmured.
Dean followed his gaze, but all he saw was darkness. "What is it?"
"A memory," Castiel said, his voice distant. "From a time long ago. Before I fell. Before I met you."
Dean didn't know what to say to that. Castiel rarely spoke of his past, of the millennia he'd spent as an angel before the Winchesters had pulled him into their world. But there was a weight in his words tonight that made Dean's chest tighten.
"What happened here?" Dean asked, his voice softer now.
Castiel turned to him, his eyes reflecting a sadness that Dean had only glimpsed a few times before. "I watched over this place. Over the people who came here. But I couldn't save them all. I failed."
Dean shook his head, stepping closer. "Cas, you can't save everyone. You've done more for this world than anyone else ever could. You've saved me more times than I can count."
Castiel held his gaze, the distance between them closing with each word. "And I would do it all again, Dean. For you."
The confession hung in the air between them, heavy and raw. Dean felt his heart skip a beat, the implications of those words settling into his bones. He had always known—on some level—that there was something deeper between them. Something more than friendship, more than loyalty.
Without thinking, Dean reached out, his hand finding Castiel's. The contact was electric, sending a jolt through both of them. For a moment, neither of them moved, the world narrowing to just the two of them in that empty, forgotten church.
"Cas…" Dean's voice was barely a whisper, but it carried all the emotions he'd kept buried for so long.
Castiel stepped closer, his other hand coming up to rest on Dean's cheek, the touch gentle, almost reverent. "Dean," he murmured, his voice full of longing, of unspoken words.
The rain continued to fall outside, a steady rhythm that matched the pounding of Dean's heart. He leaned into Castiel's touch, letting himself feel the warmth, the comfort that only Cas could provide.
And then, without another word, they closed the distance between them. The kiss was slow, tender, a meeting of souls that had been waiting for this moment for far too long. It was a promise, a reassurance that no matter what happened, they would face it together.
When they finally pulled apart, the storm outside had lessened, the rain now a gentle drizzle. But inside that old church, a new storm had just begun—a storm of emotions that neither of them could deny any longer.
"Whatever comes next," Dean said, his voice steady, "we'll face it together."
Castiel nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Together."
And as they stood there, in that forgotten place, with the rain falling softly outside, Dean knew that no matter what the future held, as long as they were together, they could face anything.
