Chapter Text
After breakfast, the gang went their separate ways—Sam and Eileen hit the road in the Impala (because according to Dean she was sitting too much these days) and Cas and Dean stayed behind for a few days to take some more test flights around the bunker. Cas began more advanced flight lessons as he'd suggested, with places Dean had been before; ones with lots of open space and likely to have no one around—lowering the likeliness of damaging anything or arousing suspicion. To start, he had Dean take them to a dock Cas had seen in Dean’s dreams, then a field from Dean’s Heaven (where he and Sam had lit fireworks as kids), and the forest where Dean was resurrected after his first trip to Hell. Once Cas was certain Dean had the trajectory right, their first real stop was to visit Jody and the girls. Cas couldn’t hide his happiness over the possibility of seeing Claire again… and they were lucky, she happened to be home from her most recent hunt. They ended up spending the rest of the afternoon there, catching up with everyone.
Afterward, they continued practicing flight by visiting other friends; Donna, Garth and his family, as well as (Apocalypse World) Charlie and her partner Stevie. Their final visit was to check in on Bobby 2.0, who was still hunting and still surlier than ever. In between all the practice and catch ups, they returned to the bunker twice daily to check on Miracle, taking him on his walks and spending some time with him so he wouldn’t be lonely. Dropping in at home also allowed them to check on operations, keep in touch with the hunters network and even change clothes daily… which was Dean’s (very human) preference. Toward the end of it they’d lost about four days, (not that they minded), and Dean was able to teleport just by thinking about a person or place he’d seen before. It was late on a Monday night when they said good-bye to Bobby and Dean began looking forward to his first trip outside the States.
As it turned out, Dean had a bit of a bucket list and, by the time he had exhausted his list of places he’d always wanted to see—but had always been too scared (and too busy saving the world) to fly to—a week had passed them by. They’d checked in with Sam and Eileen by phone with some regularity of course, learning that they had already gotten one of the ingredients, but were travelling the south west U.S, having trouble with the other—the tail feather of a phoenix. (But Cas told himself it was fine, his vessel wasn’t going anywhere; besides, Dean seemed to be in no hurry… and he was running on Dean’s time.) And so, Cas ended up taking Dean to several more notable locations across the globe which he thought Dean may enjoy. They viewed the Aurora Borealis from northern Norway, walked the Colosseum in Rome, gazed up at the Egyptian Pyramids, and admired the stained glass of Sainte-Chapelle in France. They looked down from the steep shores of Ireland, strolled through Acropolis in Greece, got lost in the depths of the Amazon Rainforest, visited Machu Picchu in Peru and even dove in the Great Barrier Reef off the coast of Australia… The possibilities were endless and it was beginning to seem like Dean never wanted to stop. However, after realising yet another week had passed them by—as they were sitting atop the frozen peak of Chomolungma—the pair finally agreed to begin looking for the dragon scales.
By way of a couple hunter contacts in one of (their) Bobby’s old notebooks, Dean and Cas began their formal search in Japan. It was the start of the rainy season when they landed in Kyōto and there was a decent downpour underway. Regardless, Dean insisted they do some sight-seeing first, so they purchased a clear umbrella from the nearest konbini and made their way deeper into the city. As Dean walked the ancient streets of Kyōto, rain pounding from above, Cas—within his inner monologue—spoke to him about the history of Kyōto-shi like a guide. (As they had done at every stop they’d made so far.) They visited several small, tucked away shrines and a few larger temples, then stopped to watch the patterns on the surface of the water as the rain belted a large canal. The nearby gardens they explored were lush and green, and as the rain battered the surface of the koi pond there, Dean could still see all the way to the bottom—to the fish, huddled silent and still together waiting out the storm.
But the weather never let up, so as the day wore on, (after checking in on Miracle back at the bunker) they met up with Bobby’s contacts, neither of which had dragon scales; however the name drop certainly helped get their foot in the door. Each of the people they spoke to gave them a different hunter’s shop to check, but the first shop had no scales and the second was already closed for the day by the time they arrived. Since they had to work around the schedules of humans (and in order to finally get out of the worsening weather), they booked into a local ryokan for the night. It was nothing fancy—more like a hostel—and it was very traditional; a standard six tatami mat room with a customary futon they could use on the floor.
Dean rolled out the shikibuton (wondering if the slim mattress could possibly be enough to soften the hard floor), then covered it with the more inviting, plush and blanket-like kakebuton, before laying down on top of both—which ended up surprisingly comfortable. Then, taking out his mobile phone from his pocket, he set it on the floor next to them quietly playing Zeppelin. He folded his arms under his head and relaxed, as Cas manifested everything into the dream place just how it was (even the thunderstorm outside)—except now, he was lying next to Dean on his side, resting his head in his hand on a propped elbow. Dean looked up at him, smiling sweetly, seemingly trying to will his love to wordlessly draw Cas closer. As if he’d heard, Cas reached over Dean’s abdomen with his free arm, wrapping the mirage fully around Dean’s waist and gliding his fingers under the edge of Dean’s tee-shirt to stroke his skin slowly, just above his hip. With each low roll of thunder, lightning flashed through the only window, brightly illuminating his calculated motions in the dim room like a broken flipbook.
“Tomorrow, we’ll probably have the dragon scales.” Cas murmured as he leaned closer, his phantom lips brushing Dean’s neck with each word.
“Yeah…”
Dean wasn’t sure how he felt about that. The way things were now was easy for him; private, hidden, secret. He’d gotten comfortable with their nightly rendezvous in the dream place. He still wasn’t sure how to be with Cas like this, if Cas were back in his own body. Where anyone could see them… anyone could know how much closer they’d grown. As far as Dean knew, Sam was the only one aware of how Cas felt about him, (other than him) and no one knew how he felt about Cas (other than Cas).
“I can’t wait.” Cas whispered low and rough, kissing Dean’s neck, distracted by his own desires and oblivious to Dean’s thoughts. (Which it seemed Dean was getting better and better at cloaking.)
Dean couldn’t come up with a response before Cas’ mouth found his, kissing away any attempt at coherent thought with it. Cas’ fingers were running up his side now, across the soft skin of his ribs and onto his chest, where they found Dean’s pert nipple and stopped to play. Dean moaned around Cas’ tongue, heat flashing through his body as he went taut from head to toe with each keen twist of Cas’ finger tips. Cas pressed himself harder against the line of Dean’s body, one leg moving over top and between Dean’s legs, his stiff cock pressing against Dean’s thigh. Then Cas’ other hand joined the first under Dean’s shirt, working together to slide it up and off while Dean adjusted as needed to help the idea along. Dean’s chest now exposed, Cas’ lips immediately found the other untouched nipple, encircling it with his hot mouth and licking teasingly until it couldn’t get any firmer—then finally—he sucked hard on the perky nib he’d produced.
A loud groan rose up from somewhere deep within Dean and his hardening cock drove him to thrust into the leg Cas still had wrapped over him, seeking some kind of friction, needing more of Cas’ touch. Finally remembering he has hands, Dean reached for Cas, gripping the tee-shirt Cas had imagined there and disrupting his own pleasure momentarily in order to yank it off over Cas’ head in one swift, impatient motion. He clawed at Cas’ back until Cas left his nipple to move south—kissing and sucking his way down Dean’s abdomen—and when he was almost too far away, Dean’s fingers dragged through Cas’ hair instead; messing it up just the way he liked it, leaving Cas looking fucked and sexy. Abruptly, Cas stopped at the light trail of hair leading into Dean’s pants, instead looking up at him hungrily as he undid the button; hair still wild and his dark, blown eyes shining sliver with each flash of lightning from the window.
Cas wasted no time getting Dean’s cock into his mouth. They’d been doing this for long enough now that he craved it; the taste of Dean’s pre-come as he licked the slit, the weight of it on his tongue after he’d wrapped his lips around it almost to the base… the flow of Dean’s delectable responses into the grace of the dream place and throughout the entirety of their shared body. As he sucked him eagerly, listening closely to Dean’s gasps and moans of want—of need—Cas longed for the feeling of his grace coalescing with Dean’s soul when they would come together. He continued to suck Dean deep and enthusiastically, until he heard the urgent whispering of his name among the Dean's cries and looked up.
“Cas… Cas wait… I-I’m gonna come.”
Dean propped himself up on his elbows as Cas popped off his cock and looked at him questioningly, his head askew. But when Dean beckoned him closer, Cas obeyed immediately; whatever Dean wanted, Dean would get. Cas straddled Dean’s thighs and wrapped his own legs around the sides of Dean’s waist, then pressed them chest to chest, while Dean’s dick—glossy with his saliva—stood at mast between them. Dean worked quickly to yank Cas’ pants out of the way and free his stiff, eager cock to join his own, while Cas busied himself mouthing Dean’s neck and shoulder—licking and sucking his bare skin ravenously—leaving secret marks only they will know about. Dean’s hand wrapped around his own spit slick shaft before clasping it together with Cas’… intent on finishing them both with his fist as he redirected Cas’ mouth to his own and began kissing him franticly. Returning the kiss eagerly, Cas brought his hand down to join Dean’s and fully encircle their throbbing cocks—furiously stroking in tandem. With a deep, guttural growl, the pair tensed as one, heat pooling low in their shared bodies, as grace and soul began mingling into an explosion of pleasure. A crack of thunder muted their cries as they climaxed between their abdomens, milky white come coating their hands in bursts with the lightning. In the afterglow their kisses began to miss the mark—the corner of Dean’s mouth, low on Cas’ chin, the side of Dean’s jaw—until they simply melted into each other, their foreheads touching as their hands slowly slipped away and their cocks softened.
“So good…” Cas sighed, “you’re so good Dean.”
Dean chuckled breathlessly. “Because of you Cas…”
Cas pulled back until their eyes met, the clear sky joining a lush field at the horizon, “I love you.” he whispered before kissing Dean tenderly.
“I love you too...” Dean murmured when they broke away again, then he took a shuddering breath, “Cas, I—I never wanna lose this.”
Cas ran his clean hand up from Dean’s shoulders to the side of his neck, gently cradling his jaw. “I’m not going anywhere.” he promised.
In reply, Dean leaned forward, hugging Cas tightly and ignoring the imagined mess between them. “Can’t we just stay like this?” he mumbled into Cas’ chest.
Cas’ hand had naturally slid back around Dean’s neck, as his chin found it’s place on Dean’s shoulder and his fingers lovingly stroked Dean’s nape. “No matter what happens, I’ll be with you. I won’t leave you again Dean.” Cas murmured and Dean sighed, relaxing into his embrace.
Cas held him quietly for a few moments before he gently dissolved the dream place and cleaned the real world mess from Dean’s pants with their grace. Manifesting his ethereal self, he wrapped Dean in his gossamer arms to hold him through the night, then gently kissed the scarlet handprint that shone bright once again on Dean’s shoulder. The thunderstorm outside finally subsided as Dean drifted off to sleep for the first time since they’d left Kansas.
***
In the morning, they checked out of the ryokan and made for the second shop (on the outskirts of the city) that had been closed the day before. As the door opened a small bell chimed, followed shortly by a child-like voice that called out, ‘irasshaimase’ from somewhere in the back when they stepped over the threshold. Inside, the shop was surprisingly empty of customers and taking it in, they passed several things they recognized and many more they did not, before a young child bounced out from behind one of the shelves.
The little girl couldn’t have been more than ten years old and as soon as she saw Dean, the smile fell from her face and terror entered her eyes. But there was more to her than Dean expected… those eyes shined in the light and her pupils were tight and long; her irises yellow-green like dry grass. Her fingers ended in short little claws and perched on her head were two fuzzy triangular ears that flattened back on her skull as she took in the stranger. When the little girl turned to flee, (calling ‘Okāsan, okāsan!’) she was followed by a short, bushy tail.
“Cas… did I just see—”
“She’s a young kitsune, yes.”
“In a shop for hunters?”
“Who sent you?” a woman’s voice ordered as she came around the same shelf.
“Miyamoto-san, by way of Singer-san.” Cas replied in flawless Japanese.
The woman shifted in place, her tail swishing as her ears twitched in vacillation. She crossed her arms while she mulled over the information and the young girl—clinging to the woman’s baggy pants—peeked around to look at the foreign hunter, now that she was safe behind her mother. Dean felt an odd mixture of anxiety and fondness, the girl and her mother couldn’t hide their true forms from Cas’ angelic eyes, but… she was still just a little girl. Regardless, his hunter instincts wanted to take over, but Cas seemed to be doing something to soothe his worries. There was no fight to be had here.
“You know Bobby-san?” she finally asked.
“Yes, practically his son.” Dean replied quickly.
The woman relaxed and started over, “Hajimemashite,” she said, “Ishida, Yuri desu. Douzo yoroshiku onegaishimasu.”
“Dean. Dean Winchester.” The woman’s eyes widened at the name, but she didn’t comment. “Douzo yoroshiku onegaishimasu.” Cas added politely, because Dean being able to speak a language was different than Dean remembering all the conventions.
“I uh, I didn’t expect to see mon—kitsune in a shop for hunters.” Dean continued without a beat.
“This is not America, Winchester-san.”
The formalities made his brain itch. “Dean is fine…”
“In Japan, we work together. Your so-called ‘hunting’, is regulated by law. In these modern times, everything is sanctioned and we work to keep the peace with humans.”
“What? How does the world not know about this?”
“Everything is secret. All ス—パ organizations work underground and behind the scenes.”
“Su-pa?”
“Shortened from Supernatural.”
Dean took a moment to try to absorb that news—it seemed there was a lot he didn’t know… he wondered if Bobby had known. Suddenly, he felt warmth bubbling up in them as Cas began to chuckle within. The young girl had finally left her mother’s side and was flitting around them as if looking for something, obviously aware that there was more to Dean than met the eye as well. Cas carefully unfurled their wings in the small space and the girls eyes lit up, sparkling as she grinned mischievously at them. Just as she reached out to touch the feather closest to her, her mother spoke.
“Miyu, let them be.”
With that, Dean realised her mother also obviously knew about Cas, but didn’t let on and didn’t ask about it either. Instead, she directed them to a small seating area at the back of the shop as Miyu ran off past a blue and green patterned noren into a backroom, the fabric continuing to flap back and forth long after she’d gone through.
“Please sit Dean-san. You’ve come a long way. This must be important.”
In short time, Miyu reappeared with a tray holding a tea set, and Yuri served them genmaicha before having a seat at the table. Cas immediately took the small ceramic cup in both of Dean’s hands and—suppressing their grace—took a sip; the flavour was earthy and lighter than expected and Dean didn’t mind it. After a second sip, he placed the cup back on the small wooden chataku and explained what they were looking for—dragon scales. Cas handled the negotiations, offering enough information, (but not too much) and naturally, Yuri did not pry either, she was strictly business. After a lifetime of using lies and violence to get what he wanted, Dean marveled at Cas’ use of suave formalities in the exchange. It was a side of Cas that Dean didn’t see often and must’ve harked back to his time as a strategist. (And which Dean also learned he found notably hot.) After a short discussion, Yuri told them she was able to provide the necessary ingredient… for a price. The transaction went smoothly, Dean felt certain Cas might’ve made them a new ally, and now their vacation distraction was coming to an end.
Dean did his best to hide his apprehension from Cas, he still wasn’t sure he was ready for Cas to leave… the constant encompassing love and warmth he felt with Cas so near to him was addictive. He hadn’t known just how accurate he was, describing it as ‘one hell of a drug’ when Cas joined him. Like this they were always together, always safe, always protected. Dean certainly wasn’t rushing ahead to be alone with himself again; with his worries, doubts, shame and shortcomings… (And he decided he would actually miss the perks too, like teleporting wherever he wanted or being able to speak every language known to man—and even some that weren’t.) They thanked Yuri and her daughter and then, back outside, the pair took a short walk into the forest. Just as it began to rain again, they left Japan with a small furoshiki wrapped box of dragon scales.
***
The boys returned to the bunker about a day after Sam and Eileen had made their most recent return, all the ingredients now collected. Instead of rushing into anything however, they all spent the evening catching up over dinner, then relaxed together in the ‘Dean Cave’, having just spent nearly three weeks apart. It was Thursday evening later that week, when Sam and Eileen returned to the bunker with the finished spell. Dean and Cas had just gotten in from their walk with Miracle and they all met up in the war room. Sam had laid out the required ingredients, as well as the spell parchment from Rowena, onto the map table.
Of all the ingredients Rowena had them getting for her the last few months, the spell needed but four: a pinch of saffron, a single phoenix feather, a handful of dragon scales and part of the vessel. At the bottom of the parchment was a sigil—to be drawn where the vessel was to appear—and instructions for the caster, as well as a Latin incantation. Dean read it over several times before making the silent decision to head to his room. Sam and Eileen exchanged a look, then sat down at the map table while they waited for him to return.
When Dean came back, he was carrying a dirty, wrinkled, lightweight grey-green jacket with a large, dark red stain on it. After Cas had died, Dean had slept in this jacket every night for weeks. Until, shortly after he found Miracle, he’d put it away and hadn’t looked at it since. He couldn’t believe he’d nearly forgotten about it. (Nearly.) Holding it now felt surreal. Dean draped it over his arm with the bloody handprint facing up and opened his hand to reveal a tiny empty vial. Pressing the vial against the bloody fabric using his left hand, he pulled a small knife from his pants pocket with the other, flipping it open to reveal the pristine blade. (Their grace trembled at the sight, but neither one of them mentioned that it was the same knife from that night. The same knife Cas had used to slice his hand open and protect Dean from Death’s onslaught.) Dean gently rubbed the blade against the dried blood on a slight angle, flaking it off in little bits to slide down the fabric and into the open vial. Slowly, slowly, a large section of the handprint began to fade away, to be lost forever and never return—no matter the outcome of their spell.
Once the container seemed reasonably full and a considerable portion of the handprint was gone, Dean set the vial on the table top and sealed it with a small piece of cork from his pocket. The entire time he’d worked no one had said a word, so when he spoke now, his voice exploded into the room.
“That’s everything.” Dean draped the jacket over the back of the chair in front of him, then sat down in it.
“Sh-should we contact Jack?” Sam muttered.
“We should probably come up with a plan first. An open portal to the Empty? What’s the worst that could happen?” Dean grumbled sardonically.
“Yeah… of course. I mean, if the Empty gets out here…” Sam ran a hand through his hair.
“We kill it.” Eileen offered confidently.
Dean glanced at her cynically, “How?”
“Well, what do we know about it?” Sam asked.
Cas spoke up, “The Cosmic Entity only wants to sleep… so, it hates loud noises. It seems to have no physical form we can injure, but it is capable of appearing in the visage of any of the inhabitants of the Empty. Any attempts to wound it cause it to dissolve back into black goo. However, when Jack exploded in the Empty, it was incapacitated for a short while.”
“Okay, so we get my stereo and blast some Motörhead.” Dean joked.
Sam shrugged, “Actually, it could work.”
“It will however, also enrage it.” Cas interjected.
“And what do we do then,” Eileen asked, “if we can’t kill it?”
“Find a way.” Dean replied flatly.
“Or trap it?” Sam suggested, “Billie warded her library against it. If it’s actually liquid, maybe we can use that to trap it into some kind of container?”
“Sounds risky.” Dean mumbled.
“There will be some risk Dean.” Cas declared, “Its unavoidable.”
“Well, maybe we shouldn’t do it then, Cas.” Dean growled back.
“And do what instead, Dean?” Cas snapped.
“Stay like this!”
Sam and Eileen watched in silent fascination as Dean appeared to argue with himself across two timbres.
“Is that what you want?” Cas spat, “To watch everyone else around you grow old… and die?”
“What? No I—”
“Well, that is my fate. And it would be your fate, our fate.”
“Cas I—I can’t watch you die again!”
“But you wouldn’t really be giving me the chance to live either!”
Dean stammered incoherent noises as their grace boiled within them. Frustrated, he smashed their fist down onto the table instead of responding, then stormed off for his room before Sam or Eileen could interject.
Slamming the door loudly behind them, Dean changed into his pyjamas and put on his headphones while pretending Cas wasn’t right there with him, then tried to use the music to drown Cas out. Cas allowed it for a over an hour, before he grew tired of being ignored and risked everything by transporting them into the dream place without asking. Dean was still on the bed in his room, exactly as he was before (headphones on, arms crossed, legs outstretched), but now Cas sat with him, straddling his thighs. Cas lifted the edge of Dean’s tee-shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers innocently, exposing the light trail of hair running down to hide in Dean’s hot dog pyjama pants. Cas let the backs of his fingers brush the skin of Dean’s abdomen, but Dean still vehemently refused to acknowledge him.
“Dean…”
Dean closed his eyes, trying to block Cas’ presence out of his mind.
“Dean. I want to be with you.” He reached over to gently remove Dean’s headphones and Dean slumped, letting him. “I want to be together.”
“We are… right now.”
“No, I mean really together. I want to live a life with you.”
Dean’s eyes flew open. “This isn’t enough?” he accused, “I’m not enough?”
“Of course you are…” Cas breathed, cupping Dean's jaw gently with his hand, “Being with you like this, it has been one of the best experiences of my lifetime. And this is wonderful too,” he admitted, gesturing aimlessly into the dream place with his other hand, “I know… believe me I know. But it’s not real, Dean.” He ran his fingers along Dean’s jaw, softening his viridescent gaze. “You asked me once, what about all this is real, and I told you—we are. You and me, together in the world, that’s real.”
Without warning they were back at the pond with a quaint little house on the shore. Dean was pulling his small boat into the dock where Cas sat—pant legs rolled up—feet dangling in the water and kicking playfully while Miracle swam around, biting the splashes. Dean moored the boat, then put the green ice chest on the dock and opened it (grinning proudly) to show Cas his catch. The vision faded and they reappeared in a small kitchen, Dean teaching Cas how to clean and cook the fish, while giving Miracle scraps at their feet. But Cas shaped the daydream to his liking and instead of paying attention to Dean’s instructions, he was finding reasons to touch Dean every chance he got. And any time they were close enough, he would kiss the nearest exposed skin of Dean’s body, while Dean tried to pretend he was annoyed by Cas' antics. When the vision shifted again, night had fallen and they were naked in bed together… Cas kissing low along Dean’s groin, moving down to suck at his inner thigh, with one hand running slowly up and down the length Dean’s cock, as three slick fingers of the other hand opened Dean up. When Dean was practically begging for it Cas bought himself up, rubbing the head of his cock against Dean’s wet hole, until he finally entered him—Dean jerking reflexively with the aching stretch and the tremendous pleasure of it—as both moaned with want. Then they were back on Dean’s bed in the bunker, facing one another once more.
“We can make that life our reality, you and me. We can have a future Dean, but we have to try.”
“Cas, I-I can’t lose you again…”
“I won’t leave you Dean. I promise.” Cas took Dean’s hand and after interlacing their fingers, held them together, their palms over Dean’s heart. “If we fail, if we don’t get my vessel back, I’ll still be right here. With you. I could stay with you… if it comes down to it.”
“But what about the Empty? What if—”
“Dean, you beat God Himself. You, Sam and Jack. I have faith in you. I know we can do this.”
Dean sighed, anxiety rippling through the grace of the dream place.
“And if the Entity takes me…” Cas continued, “then this time, as my vessel, it will likely take you with me… but please… Dean, have faith in us. Have faith in yourself.”
Dean looked up, catching Cas’ eyes with his, verdant grasses waving in a breeze to meet a sapphire shoreline. “I—I love you Cas. I love you so damn much.”
“And I you. Which is why we will overcome this. Our love alters universes and defied God himself. I believe we can do anything.” Cas released Dean’s hand and firmly gripped his nape instead, pulling them closer, bringing their mouths into a chaste kiss before resting their foreheads together. “I have wanted nothing more than to be at your side since I met you Dean.”
Dean gasped, trying to hold back tears, “Me too Cas.”
“Then let’s not let anything keep us apart.”
Dean exhaled slowly, “Okay. Let’s do it… let’s kill the Empty.” Then he turned his head slightly to grab Cas’ mouth with his own and kissed him again eagerly.