Archive of Our Own ^beta

It's been two months since Cas was taken by the Empty. Two months since Chuck was defeated. Since Jack left.

Since it became just Sam and Dean. Again. Back to basics.

Dean should be happy. He thinks he should be happy; the world has been “saved.” The ultimate enemy has been defeated. But he isn’t happy.

Sam and Dean spent so many of their formative years not being allowed to make long-lasting relationships of any kind — their father beating into them that in the hunter life you can’t make friends, they are weaknesses that will slow you down. But that changed as adults. Sam and Dean were surrounded — literally — by found family. They had friends who they would die for — that died for them. They adopted kiddos that Dean viewed and protected like his own — even if in more of a step-father capacity. And he has had a best friend. One that was always there when he called — and especially when he didn't. One who could sense when Dean needed someone, even if Dean was too stubborn to admit it.

And yeah, there were times when they were too similar. Too stubborn, too self-sacrificing. And it was hard for Dean when Cas would leave and try to do things on his own. To try to save Dean once again. But Dean didn't care. He wanted Cas there, he wanted him by his side at all times. He wanted to fight side by side. Castiel was the good thing in Dean’s life, the good in all his bad.

He spent years pushing down why he wanted Cas there constantly, trying to chalk it up to who wouldn't want their best friend with them? But deep down Dean knew it was more than that, but he didn't allow himself to think of it as an option. To think that Castiel, warrior angel of the lord, would ever have feelings for a boring blue-collar human who only had stolen money, a charming smile, and bad puns to his name. What could he offer Cas? 

But he was wrong, so wrong. Cas' confession causes all those feelings Dean had been pushing down to rise to the surface. Castiel loved him and Dean knew he loved Cas back. But it was too late; Cas was gone and Dean couldn't didn't have time to tell him it back. Of course, Dean was too late. 

Dean thought they were going to die together. That Billie was going to kill Cas first, making Dean watch the living nightmare of seeing Cas die again before she turned her attention to him. But it was even worse, Cas sacrificed himself — again — for Dean, Cas loved him. You are the most caring, selfless human being I have ever known…I love you. It was the words Dean always wanted to hear, never thought he would hear, never dared himself to want. Because wanting was dangerous. Wanting meant he needed something. He wasn't just a wheel in the hunting machine, taking out monsters in the hopes that others could live their dreams. But Dean did have his dream for a while: he had the extended family, Bobby, Jody, Donna, Charlie, even Garth. And he had Jack, Sam, Cas. They were a little unit. But once again, Chuck messed it up. And Dean’s dream was gone, replaced by a waking nightmare.

Now his nightmare isn't like the ones in the past: waking up in a cold sweat from another memory about hell, getting out of bed to splash water on his face, hearing Cas shuffling around the bunker. Sometimes Dean would find him in the library, he’d drag Castiel to the Dean Cave where they would sit and quietly watch a movie until Dean fell asleep. At first, Dean would wake up where he dozed, a blanket draped around him and a pillow tucked under his neck, no pain radiating his body so he knew Cas secretly healed him in the night. But during that last week, after Cas came back and their journey to purgatory, he would fall asleep in the Dean Cave but wake up back in bed. He should be mad about that. He should — he should tell Cas that he shouldn't carry him. Personal space and all that nonsense he once threw at him a decade ago. But Dean couldn't; not when after he got up, blushing at the fact that Cas probably carried him bridal style down the hallways of the Bunker, only to find Cas sitting in the kitchen, coffee cup in hand, and one at Dean's seat ready and hot for him. Hell, who fucking cared about personal space anyway.

It's been two months, and his birthday is in only a couple hours. He knows Sam is concerned about him. About his weight loss, his drinking, and overall melancholy. Dean’s room is a mess again. They haven't been on a hunt in a while and again Dean feels like he should be thankful for that, but that would mean putting on a fake smile and talking to strangers. Why would he want to talk to strangers when he can be haunted by the places Cas used to occupy? It was hard enough on days when the group came to the bunker in troves. Jody, Donna, and the girls came for dinner after Jack brought them back, followed by a call from Garth; Dean could hear baby Cas crying in the background as Garth tried to soothe his gums from teething. Dean fought back tears himself; at least someone carried on Castiel’s name and legacy.

Eileen is starting to stay over more. She and Sam seem to be patching up their relationship, taking it to the next level. Eileen also doesn’t give him the puppy-dog eyes like Sam does, making him feel guilty and vulnerable. Instead, earlier that day she pointed at the empty bottles, holding up a trashcan, and then pointed to it. She didn’t put it down until Dean got rid of all the bottles. 

It's been two months and, yeah, Dean is having a hard time. This death feels permanent, unlike Cas’ other ones. Dean has spent countless hours pouring over how to get to the Empty. He even prayed to Jack a couple times, asking for Jack’s forgiveness for Cas’ death (Dean feels responsible for Cas’ death, for the death of Jack’s father, and after their fraught relationship over the years, he wouldn’t blame Jack for being mad at him for that — he blamed himself too.) He also apologized that Jack had to become god, that their plan was for him to suck up that power. Dean never wanted that responsibility put upon Jack, he knew what it was like to be a young kid, the same age as Jack, and have a human life put in his hands. A life that became his responsibility from then on out. But Jack’s responsibility is even greater than Dean’s, he now has the whole human race to look out for, even if he claims to be hands-off. Dean also asked for Jack’s help to get Cas back. 

He never received a response back. 

The hallways are empty.

Sam and Eileen are asleep at a regular human time. Dean wanders the halls, the clock’s chimes alerting him he’s now four hours into his birthday, as he enters the library. It’s empty, but Dean stands at the entrance, looking at the chair that Cas usually occupied. 

The emptiness is haunting. The silence is threatening.

No Castiel putting down whatever he was looking at down, smiling small but so warm, as he softly greeted Dean. An eyebrow quirking up at Dean once again being up, no guilt about the hour, just a warm presence in his company. No Cas and no Jack, sneaking another bowl of cereal in the middle of the night. “Don't tell, Sam.” Dean never did. It was their secret. 

Eileen convinced him to do something for his birthday. Nothing big. Just a pie — not cake — and some pizza. It will be fine, the new normal and he does love spending time with them, with his family, even if right now he finds it hard to speak. 

But he misses the angel at his side, the warmth that he used to count to be there, even when they fought, even when Cas left after Dean finally pushed him too far. Too scared to tell him to stop, too afraid that Cas was tired of his shit. Of course, Dean knew one day that would happen, the people he loves always leave him. But Cas came back after that. Like he always did. 

This time around he didn't have Cas trenchcoat to accompany him, tucking it under his pillow as a reminder of his lost love. But he has the jacket with Cas' bloody handprint on it, in the same spot when Cas first branded him when he saved him from hell. Two hands, two times he saved him. Dean couldn't wash it, not after one time when he accidentally put it in the laundry, grabbing it out right before it went into the water and ruining it. Eileen found him there, crying and clutching it against his body as he sat in front of the washer, laundry forgotten. 

Dean leaves the library, avoiding drinking any alcohol to appease the silent agreement between Eileen and him, and heads to bed, jacket next to him as he more disassociates then sleeps. 

- - -

The smell of pie fills the bunker. 

Dean is tempted to run to the kitchen, but he heads to the bathroom first. After a quick shower, he gargles some mouthwash and looks at himself in the mirror. His face is more sallow, long whiskers stick out of his ever-growing beard and if his hair gets any longer it’s gonna start going into his eyes. He trims up the beard a bit but leaves his hair, he kinda likes it longer. He still looks like shit, but presentable enough for a small birthday celebration. 

The smells start to mingle as he approaches, apple, strawberry, maybe even a peach one. Like a bloodhound searching for its prize, Dean immediately approaches the pie, reaching out for them before Eileen tsks and bats his hands away. 

Pizza first, she signs. 

“My stomach is large enough for both,” he offers. 

Eileen turns his head to the three pizza boxes Sam is holding as he walks into the kitchen. “I got your favorite!”

“About damn time, Sammy.” Sam ignores the ribbing, it is Dean’s birthday after all, and it's the most Dean has spoken in weeks.

- - -

“Can we dig into the pie now?” Dean sticks out his bottom lip, playing it up. This may be the most he’s talked in months, but the dinner has been fun, teaming up with Eileen to tease Sam always lightens the mood.

"Hello!"

All three adults in the room startle at the greeting and turn to find Jack standing at the top of the kitchen stairs, his hand raised, a small smile on his face, but a bouncing nervous energy surrounding him, like he is afraid how they will react to seeing him.

He looks just like Jack, the Jack they haven't seen in two months. Dean feels some of the heaviness of his heart lighten.

Sam is the first one to get to Jack, shouing his name and pulling him in for a hug. Eileen is next.

Dean gets up from the table gingerly, slowly approaching him, and placing one hand on his cheek like he did the first time they thought they lost Jack. He somehow looks taller, more confident, but he immediately softens at Dean’s touch, becoming that kid Dean knows so well.

“Hey kiddo, good to see you,” Dean says. The rest of the tension leaves Jack's body and Dean stumbles back at the force of the hug. Just like his father, Jack never holds back and wraps his arms around him while tucking his head against him. Dean smiles and holds Jack close for a minute, fighting back tears. He was afraid after what happened with everything that Jack was gonna hate him, not forgive him, but he's just a kid. A kid with a lot of responsibility. And Dean is glad that it seems he can make up for some of their past, that Jack will let him.

Jack pulls away, smiling, and Dean catches the tears in the corner of his eyes too. "Happy birthday, Dean!”

“Thanks, kiddo.”

“We were about to dig into the pie, can you stay?” Sam asks.

Jack nods and then tilts his head, nervous. He looks just like his dad.

“I brought someone with me.” He moves out of the doorway and Dean hears the familiar sounds of shoes on concrete before he sees Cas step around the corner. 

Dean stops breathing, his heart drops into his stomach. Cas is wearing that trenchcoat. That stupid trenchcoat, that hot-as-all-get-out trenchcoat. Their eyes immediately connect and Dean has no doubts that this is Cas. It’s not a dream, it’s not a demon posing as Cas. This is Cas. Once again Sam and Eileen get to him first, giving him a big hug and smile. He smiles back, his eyes shining, and all Dean can think is, he’s back. He’s back. He’s beautiful. He loves him. 

Cas turns to him and his smile turns smaller, more hesitant. It occurs to Dean that Cas doesn’t think his love is returned, just like Dean didn’t. Perhaps he expects Dean to not want to be around him? Not want to be friends anymore? Or worse, maybe look at him in disgust? Like Cas’ love is poison. Okay, Dean may be projecting with that last one, cause it’s Dean’s love, Cas’ love for Dean that made the Empty take him. Loving Dean was poison. During his grieving after, Dean got mad, got angry that Cas lied to him once again, lied and sacrificed himself. Imagined him yelling about it, but now, none of that mattered. Not with Cas alive and in front of him. 

“Hello, Dean.” 

The words hit him slow, syrupy, warmth spreads throughout Dean, and he feels it relaxing his muscles. Every part of him feels on fire, a rush of adrenaline following the relaxation, and it motivates him to move. Next thing he knows, he is in front of Cas, scant inches between them, Cas’ face is in his hands, those blue eyes looking at him startled but full of warmth and love. Dean knows that look now, has seen it countless times, but did not dare to allow himself to accept it. Well, it is past that time now.

“Welcome home, Cas,” he whispers before pulling Cas into a big hug. He feels Cas’ arms wrap around him and hold on, the press of one hand solid along his shoulder blade. “I love you too, you idiot,” Dean whispers, just for them. Cas’ breath stutters, and he melts in Dean’s grip, all the tension of his muscles letting go and Cas sighs. Dean turns his head and tucks his face in Cas’ neck, wanting to get as close as he can to the angel. Cas leans into it and Dean doesn’t know how long they stand there, just holding each other. 

Jack’s voice breaks the moment. “I want the peach one. No, the apple!”

Dean pulls back, pressing a kiss to Cas’ temple before grabbing Cas’ wrist and pulling him along to where the rest of the group has gathered at the table. He clears his throat, when did it get so heavy? 

“I say you have all three, but I get first dibs as the birthday boy.” 

Jack nods, his eyes shining and dropping down quickly where Dean is holding Cas before turning to bother Sam. “Pie time?”

Dean pulls Cas down to the stool next to him and he lines their bodies up, thighs and shoulders pressed together, and Dean takes Cas’ hand in his, holding it on his thigh under the table. Cas’ hand reflexes before holding on tight, his thumb rubbing circles, reminding Dean — both of them — that they are there.

The next couple hours feel like a dream. The whole group is together again, eating pie and laughing as they get caught up on what’s happened the past two months. Jack talks the most, about how he has been trying to rebuild heaven, how it took him a while to figure out how to get Cas out of the Empty — he freed Amara from where Chuck trapped her and together they saved Castiel before putting the Empty back to sleep. Amara and Jack have been working on heaven and making more angels as well as coming up with a plan to get rid of the Empty for good. 

Jack apologizes to Dean about not answering his prayers, but he wanted to come back with a win first — with Cas. It sounds so similar to what Cas had told him before and Dean feels a wave of guilt. He claps Jack’s shoulder and tells him that he didn’t have to have a win, that just Jack was all they needed. Jack promises to visit every other week.

Dean turns toward Castiel, locking eyes, before asking, “Will you be going with him?” 

“I plan on helping him but if you want, I can come back here when you need me.”

Dean wants to yell, when he needs him? He always needs him. He wants to Cas at his side like this from now on. Instead what comes out is, “Stay.” Simple. Short. It’s what he always wanted to tell him but never could before. “Stay with me,” he whispers more softly. 

That small gummy smile spreads across Cas’ face. He nods in agreement. They once again get so lost in each other’s eyes that Dean doesn’t know how much time passes. He feels a bit self conscious at what Cas could be seeing, the vulnerability, the love that Dean can’t hide anymore.

Sam clears his throat. “We’re gonna get Jack set up for the night. You guys good?”

The pie is gone, the dishes in the sink, and Sam, Eileen, and Jack were standing by the kitchen doorway. Man, time really did pass. Dean gets up, reluctantly letting go of Cas’ hand and warmth, to hug Jack. “Welcome back, sleep well.”

“Happy birthday, Dean.” 

After a round of hugs — Dean doesn’t think he has ever hugged so much in such a short amount of time — only Castiel and Dean are left in the kitchen. Castiel stands with his arms at his sides, that trenchcoat hanging open and the suit underneath. His hair is fluffy and eyes bright. That small private smile that’s just for Dean is on his face, and his head is slightly tilted. Dean once again is taken in by how beautiful Cas is. He loves him. 

Cas opens his mouth to say something but Dean is already in his space, connecting their lips in a kiss that has been coming on for years. Cas’ mouth parts in surprise as a small breath escapes before Cas starts kissing back. His lips are slightly chapped and his kissing is hesitant at first, soft. But Dean deepens it, dragging Cas fully against him, putting all of his feelings into it, all of the longing and love and desperation. He nips at Cas’ lip and finds Cas meeting him immediately. Of course he does, Cas has always been one of the only people who can go toe-to-toe with Dean. 

Dean runs his hands through Cas’ hair, feeling the softness as Cas moves his hands around Dean’s waist, pulling him closer. Cas is solid against him, and Dean can’t believe that he wants to take that trenchcoat off of him. Have nothing between them.

He can and wants to continue kissing Cas but he needs to breathe. He pulls back, but before he can feel the loss of Cas’ tongue against his, the warmth of his mouth, he drags his cheek across Cas’ and kisses along his jaw and neck before starting to work a spot into Cas’ skin. 

A shiver runs through Castiel’s body before it starts shaking in laughter. Dean pulls back, satisfied at the success of the spot left on Cas’ neck, it is a claim, he was is there, Cas is there, and he can finally leave a mark there. It isn’t necessarily out of possession, but a physical claim of his love. He pulls back far enough to see that Cas is chuckling softly. 

“What?”

Cas’ hand comes up to cup Dean’s cheek and he strokes Dean’s beard, even giving a little tug of the whiskers. “I like the beard, though it does tickle.” 

That makes Dean rub his beard against Cas’ chin, the similarity to how a cat does this isn’t lost on Dean, so he throws in a little nudge of the head before pulling back. Cas’ smile at Dean’s playfulness becomes more serious as he really takes Dean in for the first time, his mouth turning into a worried frown. Dean knows he looks bad, unkept, even with trimming the beard. He’s lost weight and his skin has become pale, looking in the mirror earlier was like looking at a ghost of himself. 

Cas’ voice comes out soft. “How have you been, Dean?

He doesn’t respond, but he thinks that Cas understands since his thumb rubs against his face and Dean feels a cooling sensation creep in. Maybe he should feel bad that Cas is healing him but his body relaxing under Castiel’s touch betrays him. The headache that’s lived with him for two months clears up, those little black specks that shoot across his vision occasionally go away, and even his bad knee feels fine for a bit. 

Castiel leans in to give him a few pecks on the lips before taking his hand and guiding Dean out of the kitchen and down the hall to his bedroom. Dean strips down to sleeping layers, a t-shirt and boxers, and pulls the sheets back. He looks up expecting Cas to be on the other side of the bed but Cas stands awkwardly by the door, his eyes wide and off to the side like he’s trying to give Dean privacy. 

“Cas, you can’t sleep in the suit and trenchcoat.” 

His eyes dart to Dean as his face softens, he steps forward and starts to shed the layers of clothing, stacking them neatly on the desk chair. Dean watches him, his face flushing as each layer is taken off, as more of Cas is revealed. He’s so solidly built yet soft, Cas is a perfect balance of both, and Dean can’t wait to get his arms around him again.

Approaching the opposite side of the bed, Cas reaches down and takes the jacket with the bloody handprint out from underneath the pillow. His face hardens and Dean can see tears forming in his eyes. He so rarely experiences Cas crying and it makes him want to take on the world, stop Cas from hurting; his protective instincts flare. Cas gently places the jacket on his clothing pile, right on top of his trenchcoat. Dean feels a stinging in the corner of his eyes then. 

Castiel comes back to the bed laying down on his back, his head on a soft pillow, looking at Dean the whole time. Dean throws the covers over both of them, tucking them in on Cas’ side and he aligns himself on Cas’ other, throwing a leg over Cas’ and tucking his face under his neck. Cas wraps his arm around him, his thumb stroking a soothing pattern on Dean’s bicep while his other holds onto Dean’s hand over his heart. 

The silence is comforting. 

The silence feels the void of the room with warmth. 

Dean breathes slowly, taking in Cas’ scent, the smell of clean linens and the air right before a thunderstorm. A charged atmosphere yet calming presence that takes up all the space around it.

“Don’t you ever do that again. Don’t you ever sacrifice yourself for me again.” He pokes his finger into Cas’ chest for emphasis, hearing Cas grunt in response. Dean’s voice becomes thick as tears start to form and he raises his head, making sure Cas is taking in his words. “Stay,” he barely gets out. “That’s all I ever wanted.” 

Cas’ eyes flick back and forth and Dean can see his thoughts working overtime. But then that crease in his forehead flattens and Cas’ face settles, he wipes the tears for Dean’s eyes. 

“I’ll stay.”

“Good.” He says it with finality. Like it’s done. Deep down he knows it isn’t. They’ll have to talk more. But right now, Cas is here, Cas is alive. Cas loves him. He loves him. 

“I love you, too,” Cas replies. He must have said that last part aloud. His face flushes at that, at Cas wiping away more tears. He bends over and kisses Cas before laying down and aligning their bodies again. Cas kisses the top of his head, leaving his mouth pressed there. 

Dean has done a lot in his life and he’s tried to outweigh all the bad with all the good. He thinks Cas is that something good. He’ll take it.

His eyelids grow heavy and his breathing relaxes as the warmth and solidness of Castiel holding him lulls him to sleep. He already knows this will be the best sleep he has had in months.

Right before he’s completely under he feels a kiss pressed to his forehead and Cas’ deep rumble of “Happy Birthday, Dean.”

Das Ende.