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Dean groaned as sunlight hit his face from the curtain he had thought he closed, making his head pound. He rolled over in his bed and tried to close his eyes again, but the room was now too light, so he dragged himself up and out of his room, heading downstairs to the small kitchen at the end of the hall. He stumbled slightly over an empty beer bottle left from last night and cursed, bringing one hand up to press against his forehead in an attempt to stave off the growing headache.
He walked past the doorway to the living room and ignored the Cas that was standing next to the sofa. He sat down hard on one of the kitchen chairs and glanced at the clock. 11:34. A little early to be seeing Cas.
Sighing loudly, he leaned down and buried his head in his arms, not even bothering to hold back the tears.
Part of him was grateful to have moved out of the bunker and into this house. It gave him a little more privacy. ‘A fresh start,’ he had told Sam. He was such a goddamn liar.
It had been one year, two months, and eleven days since the Empty had taken Cas; since the world lost its colour. They had defeated Chuck, Jack had become God and left for heaven to fix it, and he and Sammy had returned to the bunker. He had fallen off the edge after that.
The first few months had been the worst. Dean had barely left his room, if only to get more beer. He couldn’t sleep, could barely eat, and Sam hadn’t stopped worrying about him. He hated that he made Sam so worried. His little brother shouldn’t have had to take care of him like that, but he knew he wasn’t taking care of himself.
Sam had taken to keeping a close eye on him, probably worried he’d try to kill himself, and had gotten others to help him. Eileen always kept an eye on him when Sam couldn’t, and Sam always made sure Jo or Charlie or someone was in the bunker with him whenever he and Eileen went out on hunts. Dean had been grounded from hunts after getting too reckless and nearly killing himself, so he rarely left the bunker.
Most of it had been a blur, with the days melding together, but he did remember the days when Jack had stopped by. He had tried to pull himself together whenever that happened. The kid had also lost Cas and had taken on the huge responsibility of being God, so Dean figured he owed it to him to at least try to make up for how poorly he had treated him in the past.
After around 3 months, he wasn’t quite sure, Dean had had enough of the suffocating concern of everyone. So he did what he usually did when he didn’t want anyone to worry. He faked a recovery. He forced himself to eat more, though it never stopped tasting like cardboard, and started leaving the house more often, though it wasn’t ever to do more than find somewhere else to hide out.
Sam had finally backed off when Dean moved out by buying a house with one of the old offshore accounts that Charlie had set them up with. He had found it one day on a long drive and couldn’t help but keep coming back to it. It had looked perfect, with two stories and a large plot of land that came with it, a large garden, and two bedrooms. It was a good distance from the nearest town, but close enough so that grocery runs and other people were never too far. It had felt perfect, and he couldn’t help but imagine how Cas would have felt about it. He could imagine Cas clearing up the garden and excitedly setting up beehives. He could imagine Cas walking through the small woods behind the house, pointing out different trees and explaining everything there was to know about them. He could imagine it so vividly that it hurt.
Raising his head from his hands, Dean looked up to see Cas sitting across from him on the other side of the table, smiling at him. He looked so happy, so loving, just like he remembered it in those rare moments where everything was quiet. His hand was lying on the table, reached out for him, and Dean couldn’t help but reach back. But when the only thing he felt was the cold, solid table, his eyes began to brim with tears again.
The hallucinations had started a while ago, when he was still back in the bunker, though he’d made sure never to mention them to Sam. He’d see Cas everywhere, sitting on the sofa, reading in the library, making coffee in the kitchen. Just flashes, but they were there. He had learned to ignore them; they weren’t real, they didn’t speak, and he couldn’t touch them. It had gotten a little better after he started doing things again, but not by much. Now it was just getting worse.
His phone pinged in his pocket. Sam messaged him. He did that most days. He used to call, but after Dean kept letting the phone ring out before messaging that he was fine, Sammy had switched to that. It was just a quick ‘hey’ and a checkup on how he was feeling. He shot back a quick thumbs up before setting the phone to silent. He didn’t feel like talking right now.
Standing up, he set a pot of coffee on and checked the fridge. There wasn’t much to eat; he hadn’t gone shopping in a while, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. It wasn’t like he was going to enjoy the food anyway.
He probably would have cared that he hadn’t eaten a full meal since yesterday morning, but he didn’t. He didn’t care about much anymore. Sometimes he’d feel angry; he’d shout at nothing in particular about how unfair it all was, but most of the time, he just felt… muted, like there was just an empty hole in his chest filled with nothingness. Sometimes he mused over how much longer he’d live like this.
Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he shuffled out of the kitchen and into the living room, sitting down on the sofa and opening his laptop that was sitting on the low table. He opened the laptop and went straight to the video footage, his mouse clicking on the play button before his brain had caught up. It was the footage of him and Cas in the bunker, running from Billie. Cas giving his speech. Cas telling Dean he loves him. Cas being taken by the Empty, and Dean sitting against the wall of the room in shock.
He had downloaded the footage from the bunker's security system to his laptop and wiped it. He didn’t want Sam or anyone else to see it. He wanted to keep that moment for himself. Sam didn’t know what had happened, only that Cas had made a deal and was taken by the Empty. Cas’s words felt too fragile to say aloud, like he would forget them if he spoke them aloud. So he kept rewatching the footage, kept listening to Cas’s voice, and kept pretending like the words hadn’t shattered his world.
Three months ago, he had almost gotten back to feeling like normal, though he hadn’t told anyone why. Three months ago, Dean had visited an old storehouse that John had used, planning to go through it to try to find something of use, and he had found a spell. One that claimed to be able to pull celestial beings from the Empty.
It had been the first time since Cas’s death that Dean had dared to feel hope.
He had spent the next two and a half months gathering everything. Powerful ingredients that he had only had access to because he had saved the world too many times over. Tears from the king of Hell, something soaked in purgatory's pain, the power of heaven, and various powerful artifacts from Earth. He had driven all across the country and had lost track of exactly how he had gotten his hands on most of it.
He had needed angel grace, so he summoned Rowena to try to extract the little slivers of Cas’s grace that he had used to knit his soul back together when he had raised him from hell. She had been sceptical of how successful the process would be. It had been a very small amount of grace, but he had to at least try.
That had been a mostly successful endeavour. She had managed to get enough, though apparently a chunk of his soul had been pulled away with it. It had felt like it, too; some of the worst pain he had ever experienced. It felt like he was back in hell again, getting his soul and body ripped apart over and over, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. He’d do it a thousand times over if it meant having a chance of bringing Cas back. It was worth it to see the small vial of silver and gold light, though he hoped the Grace being mixed with some of his soul wouldn't be detrimental to the spell.
The most difficult part of the spell was the personal item. Well, not difficult in that it was hard to find, but it meant Dean giving up the one part of Cas that he had left. The spell called for something that had been imbued with the power of the specific being that was to be raised, and Dean had used one of Cas’s feathers.
He had found it after Cas had been dragged off by the Empty. He had never seen Cas lose a feather before, so he wasn’t sure if it had been on purpose or by accident, but he had kept it close; the only piece of Cas he had left. He had had nights where he just sat on his bed, staring off at nothing, and just running his fingers along that feather, praying to anything that might listen to give him back his angel.
It had hurt to let it go, but he had no choice.
The day he had finally gotten everything sent up, he had felt more excited than he had for far too long. He hadn’t told anyone yet. If it worked, he selfishly wanted to keep it to himself for a little bit. He had things to say and he’d rather they be said in private. He remembered mixing all the ingredients in a large mixing bowl, adding the feather last. He remembered speaking the words, ensuring that he pronounced every syllable perfectly. He remembered the ingredients melting together, dissolving into a dark puddle of cloud. He remembered the buzz of energy that had filled the room, matching the desperate feeling in his chest. And he remembered when it had stopped.
The silence had been suffocating. Dean had tried to call out, ignoring how much yelling hurt his voice. He searched for some indication that the spell had worked. He checked each of the rooms in the house, the garden, and the woods, but there was nothing. And when he returned to the living room, the contents of the bowl had vanished, dissolved into nothing. There was nothing left to cast the spell again. He couldn’t replace most of the ingredients. It failed.
That’s when he had fallen apart all over again.
He kept clicking replay on the video until he fell asleep, his cup of coffee cold and forgotten.
From somewhere in the dark, Castiel opened his eyes.
It took several seconds for him to realise he was awake, as he blinked and looked around. Everywhere was completely black. The sky, the ground, everything. He couldn’t tell if there were walls or not because the darkness seemed to stretch on forever. There was nothing, and Cas knew exactly where he was.
He was in the Empty.
It felt oddly familiar, lying there on a floor he couldn’t see, staring out at the endless darkness. He could recall the first time he had woken up in the Empty, after hearing Jack calling for him to wake up. He hadn’t heard Jack this time; he hadn’t heard anyone, not very clearly. He had first thought that it had been Dean calling to him, but that was just wishful thinking. What woke him was a strange tugging sensation in his chest. It felt warm and comforting and like it was trying to take him somewhere, though where exactly he was supposed to go, he wasn’t sure.
Standing up slowly, he looked around, as though he might spot where he was supposed to go, but there was just nothing. There was no ceiling, no ground, no walls. It was an endless expanse, yet felt so suffocating at the same time. This was his punishment. He had made his deal, and now he was going to have to live with the consequences, so to speak. Except that he was awake, which he didn’t think the Empty would have allowed. Something had woken him; he could feel it. Something had tried to get him out. Whatever it was, he’d find out later because right now, he needed to find a way back to Earth, back to Dean.
If he wanted to get out, he was on his own. Last time, the Empty had found him when he had made noise. It hated noise and had just wanted to go back to sleep in silence. So much so that it had kicked him out when he refused to go back to sleep. Might as well give that a try again.
Cupping his hands over his mouth, he called out. “Hey! Are you there? I know you can hear me!” He was loud, though there was no echo. The sound merely rang out and faded into the expanse with no response.
Fine. Cas thought to himself as he waited for some answer. Let's see how long you can ignore me.
“Remember me, Assbutt!” He yelled, vaguely recalling the time he yelled that insult at Lucifer. “I’m back, and I’m awake! I know you hate noise, and I know you hate me! I won’t stop until you let me go!” Still no answer. That’s fine. Castiel has lived for billions of years. He has plenty of patience and a stubborn streak a mile long.
He had no idea how long he stood there for, yelling out insults and questions and basically just airing all his thoughts out loud. It was quite cathartic, and he was feeling quite good when he finally sensed a shift in his surroundings and the presence of the Empty.
He turned around to see himself standing there scowling. A small part of him couldn’t help but chuckle at how annoyed this cosmic entity was by his words.
“Why are you awake?” The Empty questioned, glaring at him with his own eyes. “I sealed off that annoying God from myself. Nothing should have woken you up.”
Sealed off God? Had Chuck tried to get him out? Cas shook those thoughts aside and stared the being down, determined to get what he wanted. “You must have missed something then, because I’m up and I’m not going to be quiet.”
“NO!” the Empty howled. Cas could feel the darkness closing in, becoming more suffocating. “You made your deal, and now you’re mine. I have a claim over everything without a soul! You do what I want, and I order you to sleep!”
Cas could feel cold tendrils of darkness starting to curl around his feet, trying to pull him back to the floor, but he wasn’t stopping. He wouldn’t stop fighting to escape, to get back to the world, to get back to Dean.
He felt something stir in his chest as he remembered the last time he’d seen Dean. Back in the bunker. He had looked scared and panicked at Cas’s words, but still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester. And Cas was going to make it back to him, even if it was the last thing he did. Which, at the moment, seemed quite probable.
The Empty stalked forward and wrapped one hand around the collar of his trenchcoat. “I command you! You handed yourself over to me and I comma-” The Empty froze, staring at Cas with a shocked expression.
A beat passed, then two, and the Empty was still staring as though it couldn’t believe what it was seeing. That thought didn’t really comfort Cas.
“W-what? How?” the Empty spluttered, letting go of Cas and moving back, squinting at him in confusion. “How do you have a soul?”
What? Cas thought, now just as shocked as the Empty. Angels don’t have souls. How would he just get a soul? Whose was it? Was that what had woken him up? What…? Cas shook himself out of his spiralling confusion; he had to focus. The how and the why didn’t matter right now. He knew the Empty didn’t have a claim over anything with a soul, so this could be his only way out.
“You cannot keep me here. You don’t have any claim over me if I have a soul.” Cas said, trying to keep his own surprise and shock out of his voice.
“That’s not possible!” the Empty spluttered, its face coiled up in a mixture of anger and shock. Cas thought to himself that the expression didn’t suit him. “Angels can’t just get souls!”
“Well, I have. That means you can’t control me. It means you can’t ever get me to stop. It means that I will never be quiet until you LET ME GO!” he shouted, advancing on the Empty with a confidence that should have definitely gotten him disintegrated.
Instead, the Empty snarled in disgust and backed up. It glanced around in thought before waving its hand, and suddenly, Cas was lying in a field.
He gasped as the fresh air flooded his lungs, and his fingernails dug into the dirt to ground him as he looked around in shock. He was back. He was back on Earth. The Empty had let him go.
He let out a small laugh as he sat up and looked around. He was sitting in a meadow surrounded by grass and trees. There was an old windmill with a garden near a quiet brook. He knew this place. This was where he had woken up the first time he had been thrown out of the Empty. When Dean had spread his ashes the last time he died.
A slight breeze hit his face, and Cas realised with a start that he would feel the cold. Not in an uncomfortable way, but in a way that was so different from how he normally felt. Normally, he would be able to feel the wind moving past his body, but the temperature wasn’t something he could truly feel. He would be able to tell it was colder than room temperature or warmer and by how much, but he couldn’t feel it. This felt the same way it had when he had been human, though he could still feel his grace swirling around. Perhaps this was an effect of having a soul, experiencing things in a more human way. He was still reeling from the fact that he had just spontaneously gained a soul. That didn’t just happen, but right now, it wasn’t a pressing matter.
The meadow was more overgrown than the last time he was here, though that had been some time ago for the plants. The sun was hanging low in the sky, casting beautiful golden light across the sky. He wondered how long he’d been gone. Time in the Empty doesn’t move in the same way it does on Earth, and he had been asleep for most of it. That would be the first thing he asked when he found Dean and Sam.
With that, he flew to the bunker.
Landing just outside the bunker, Cas stumbled as his feet hit the ground. He put his arms out to steady himself and took several deep breaths. That was… odd. He was sure flying alone hadn’t felt that… difficult before. It had felt like he had been carrying someone else with him. Sure, it wasn’t difficult, but it had needed more concentration than he’d anticipated.
Slowly, he brought one hand to rest on his chest. Was it because he had a soul now? Or at least part of one? That was still a question he needed answered because angels can’t just get souls. He still had his grace, so he wasn’t human. He’d have to do some research with Sam. Speaking of.
He looked around to see Sam’s car sitting in the driveway of the bunker. The Impala wasn’t there, so Dean must be out. He walked up to the door and knocked nervously. The warding on the bunker prevented him from just zapping inside, and it meant that his angelic senses couldn’t reach inside, so he wasn’t sure if anyone was home.
After a couple of seconds of silence, he heard movement on the other side of the door, and the lock clicked back. The door swung open to reveal Sam, whose eyes went wide when he saw Cas standing there like he hadn’t just come back from the dead, again.
“Hello, Sam.”
“Cas!” Sam pulled him into a hug, which he happily reciprocated. “How are you… You’re alive?”
“Yes. It appears the Empty wasn’t very fond of me.” Cas responded with a smile as Sam pulled back to look him up and down with disbelief.
“Well, come in. How did you get back?” Sam asked, leading him into the bunker and down into the kitchen. “Dean said that you made a deal with the Empty, and it took you. He didn’t elaborate much more.”
It didn’t surprise him that Dean hadn’t fully disclosed what exactly had been said on that day. He had often struggled when it came to talking about his feelings, and he had probably wanted to keep Cas’s confession private until he had processed it.
“I’m not entirely sure,” Cas admitted as he sat down at the kitchen table, and Sam went to put some coffee on. “I was woken up by something, and when the Empty was upset that I was awake, I told it that if it didn’t let me go, I would continue to make as much noise as possible. It didn’t like that, so it kicked me out. I woke up in the same meadow as last time.”
Sam listened intently as he spoke, frowning slightly when he mentioned waking up. “You don’t know what woke you? I know Jack tried to, like last time, but that was a while ago. Plus, he said that he had been completely sealed off from the Empty.”
“The Empty mentioned it had sealed off Chuck. I suppose that would have included any angel or Nephilim. I’m not surprised Jack couldn’t get through.”
“Actually,” Sam said, glancing around the room before looking at Cas with a grin. “Chuck’s not in charge anymore. We beat him, and Jack kind of took over.”
“What?” Cas almost couldn’t believe what he had heard. Chuck was gone? And Jack was… God? “How?”
He listened intently as Sam explained their plan, how they tricked Chunk into killing Michael, how Jack took Chuck’s powers and made him human, how they left Chuck to live out a human life as his punishment. Apparently, Jack’s now working to rebuild heaven. Cas wasn’t thrilled about that, thinking about the responsibility that Jack had taken on while still being so young, but Sam assured him that he was doing well whenever he came by to visit.
“He always seems excited to talk about everything he’s been up to, which is a good sign,” Sam commented happily. “It’s always nice to see him when he comes by.”
Cas nodded. “How long have I been gone for?” He asked, tilting his head and looking around the kitchen. It didn’t look very different from the last time he was there, though several of the kitchen utensils and equipment looked like they had been replaced. “I know last time I wasn’t gone for very long by human standards.”
Sam tilted his head slightly and gave Cas a sympathetic look. “Cas, you’ve been gone for over a year.”
“Oh,” Cas said, looking down at the table. “That’s a lot longer than last time,” He wondered if Dean had changed much in that time.
He felt a hand rest on his shoulder and looked up to see that Sam had walked around the kitchen island to stand next to him. “You’re here now, so don’t worry too much about it.”
He nodded, giving Sam a grateful smile. Sam had always been good at being supportive. At that point, the front door opened, and Cas’s head snapped around to see who it was. He hoped it was Dean. He couldn’t wait to see those wonderful green eyes again.
“That’s Eileen. She was out picking something up.” Sam said, heading out to greet her. Cas tried not to let his disappointment show too much. He liked Eileen and was happy to see her again, too.
A few minutes later, Sam walked back into the kitchen with Eileen, whose face lit up when she saw Cas and pulled him into a hug. “You’re back!” she signed after pulling away, still smiling. “Weren’t you dead?”
Cas couldn’t help but smile in return. “I was, but I annoyed a Cosmic entity enough for it to bring me back… again.” He signed back. Sam turned to pour them all a cup of coffee as they caught up.
“So it just let you go again? Just like that?” She asked, accepting her mug of coffee with a smile and setting it down on the table.
Cas nodded before frowning slightly and turning to look at Sam, who was now standing behind Eileen with one hand on her shoulder. “Actually, there was something odd that the Empty said. I should have been under its control given our deal, but it said that I had gained a soul. Or part of one. That shouldn’t be possible.”
Sam set down his mug and frowned. “You have a soul? Does that mean you’re human now?” Cas shook his head.
“My grace is still here. I’m still an angel. Do you have any idea how that’s possible?”
Shaking his head, Sam tapped his fingers on the kitchen table in thought. “I have no idea. I’ll have to do some research on that later. You didn’t do anything specific?”
“No, but I think my gaining part of a soul was what woke me up. The Empty doesn’t have control over anything with a soul, so that must have freed me.” Cas theorized. He did want to figure it out, but that was for later. Right now, he just wanted to enjoy being back at the bunker with his friends and see Dean again. “When is Dean getting back? I noticed the Impala wasn’t parked outside.”
Eileen and Sam exchanged a look before Sam leaned in. “Dean doesn’t live in the bunker anymore.”
“What, why?”
That didn’t make sense. Dean and Sam had been living in the bunker for years. Why would he suddenly move away? Was it related to what Cas had said to him before he died?
“He took it hard when you left, and about seven months ago, he ended up moving out to a house about two hours away. I think he wanted a fresh start.”
A fresh start, what did that mean? “But, he’s never expressed a desire to leave the bunker when he’s lost other people.” Cas reasoned, still confused by the decision.
Sam just chuckled sadly. “Sometimes I forget that you’ve never seen him after you die.” He set his mug down and sat opposite Cas. Eileen went to put away the things she had bought, probably to give them some privacy. “I know he’s lost people before, but whenever you go, it feels like he just loses the will to live. His drinking got worse, and he wouldn’t leave the bunker most days. I was really worried about him. At some points, I thought he might… I thought he might kill himself.” Sam muttered as he ran his fingers through his hair, recalling what happened and looking genuinely distressed at the memory.
“After around 3 months, I think he got sick of everyone worrying about him, so he ended up moving out. He’d been doing a little better by that point, and I could tell he was trying not to worry us, but it was still bad.”
The coffee had gone cold by that point, but Cas didn’t care. Dean had been in that much distress at his death. And that wasn’t new? “But, whenever I’ve come back before, he’s never seemed that affected.”
“That’s because when you come back, he goes back to normal. He wasn’t grieving you anymore, so he was fine.” Sam gave him a look of sympathy mixed with concern. “I think you should go and see him. He has been doing better, but in the last two weeks, I’ve barely heard from him. As much as I’d love to tell you about everything else that’s happened while you’ve been gone, I think he needs you more.”
Sam gave him the address, and 15 minutes later, after another round of hugs and the promise to catch up later, Cas took off and landed on the front porch of a large two-story house. It had been an easier flight than getting to the bunker, as he was more prepared to move around with a soul. He could see the Impala parked out in front, so he was definitely in the right place.
The first thing that struck him was the lack of warding on the house. In the bunker, he could feel all the warding that had been put in place over the years to keep almost any monster from breaking in. Here, there was nothing. Not even simple wardings for demons. That didn’t seem like Dean to leave himself so unprotected, especially if he was living there alone.
Not wanting to waste more time, he brushed those concerns to the side for now and stepped forward to ring the doorbell. He didn’t want to shock Dean too much by suddenly appearing in his house, so he thought this was the better option. Dean would definitely be surprised either way, but this felt kinder.
However, after standing at the door for three minutes without any sound coming from inside the house, Cas wondered if Dean was home after all. He decided to stretch out his grace, searching the house for any signs of life. He could feel Dean’s soul in the house on the first floor, though it felt wrong somehow, almost broken.
That thought sent panic screaming through his body. Had Dean been hurt? Was that why Sam hadn’t heard from him in two weeks? Had he been alone for that long, badly injured but refusing to call for help?
Without thinking, Cas teleported into the house, into the room that Dean was in. It looked like the living room, with two sofas and a low table in the middle, with an open laptop on it. And lying on one of the sofas, with his eyes closed, was Dean.
Cas immediately rushed to his side, crouching down and putting three fingers to his forehead. He let out a deep breath when he felt that Dean wasn’t injured, just deep asleep. He didn’t even flinch at the touch and continued to sleep, seemingly not aware that anyone had just entered his house without him knowing.
The thing that immediately drew Cas’s attention was his soul. Dean’s soul, which had always felt like an anchor, bright and strong, now looked small and broken. And he didn’t mean broken as cracked and fractured; almost half of it was gone. Missing, ripped away, taken? He wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t whole. The bit that was left still felt solid, but it seemed much dimmer than the last time he saw it. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do to mend it at the moment, so he refocused on the rest of Dean’s body.
Once he established that Dean wasn’t physically injured, he looked him up and down. Sam was right to have been worried about him; Dean looked awful. His skin looked pale, and his eyes were slightly sunken into his head, with deep bags under his eyes indicating a lack of consistent sleep. He looked a lot smaller than he had the last time Cas had seen him, with his creased shirt hanging loose instead of fitting his form. He had lost muscle mass in his arms and shoulders.
There was an empty bottle of beer sitting next to the sofa and another one sitting on the table. The laptop was open but powered off, and it appeared that Dean had fallen asleep while watching something on it. He wasn’t well, but he thankfully wasn’t about to die.
Dean was going to hurt his back when he woke up if he stayed on the sofa. Cas sighed and shifted forward, slipping one hand under his back and the other under the crook in his legs, and lifting him gently up so that his head rested in the crook of his neck. Dean stirred slightly, but stayed asleep, which was concerning by itself.
He remembered the time when Jack had gone to wake Dean up, and he had reacted by pulling a gun out from under his pillow. From him to go from that to not warding his house, sleeping through the doorbell and knocking, and barely stirring when picked up. It hurt to see the man he loved caring so little about himself.
He guessed that the bedroom might be upstairs and carefully carried Dean up the steps. Looking in the first room with an open door, it was a bedroom with a lot of Dean’s things scattered around. The bed was messy and unmade, and various clothes were flung into small piles at the edge of the room. Several empty beer bottles were sitting on the small bedside table and on the floor next to the bed. The air was stagnant, like the window hadn’t been open for a long time, and Cas knew that fresh air was important for humans, from the number of times Sam lectured Dean about it in the past.
He gently lay Dean down on the bed and pulled the blanket up to his chest, making sure he was warm and comfortable. He brushed a few strands of hair out of Dean’s face before turning and moving to the window, opening it slightly to allow a slight breeze into the room. He smiled when he turned back to Dean, the golden light of the setting sun making him look even more beautiful than usual.
Dean had always looked more peaceful when he slept. The tension in his face softened, and the creases that seemed etched into his skin faded, making him look a lot younger.
Leaving Dean to rest, Cas gently closed the door and decided to take a walk around the house. There was a bathroom and a second bedroom on the floor that initially looked empty until Cas walked in to take a look. There was a bag sitting at the foot of the single bed that looked like one of Dean’s duffels. He opened it up to find all his stuff from his room in the bunker packed neatly into the bag.
He hadn’t realised it had been moved out of the bunker since he forgot to check the room when he spoke to Sam. He hadn’t had much, but it had been the place where he stored all the smaller things that he had amassed during his time with the Winchesters. There were the few pairs of clothes he owned, including a flannel shirt that Dean had given him when he was human, as well as a few smaller trinkets that he had found interesting, along with the stuffed bee toy that he had liked a lot. He remembered Dean had bought it for him after he had stared at it for several minutes straight, during a shopping trip. Bees had been one of his favourite of God’s creations and, although it wasn’t an accurate depiction of the creature, he had enjoyed having it.
What he didn’t understand was why Dean had brought it here, to his new house. He had thought that his stuff would have been packed away after he died, to put the space to good use. He knew Dean could be sentimental, though he’d never admit it, since he had carried Cas’s trenchcoat around after he was killed by the leviathans, but why he’d leave this entire room empty except for this bag of Cas’s stuff, he didn’t know.
Deciding to ask Dean about it later, Cas stands and leaves the room, deciding to head downstairs. At the end of the hall on the ground floor was a kitchen with a small island in the middle and three chairs around it. There were more empty beer bottles left on the countertops, and there was one pan sitting in the sink and a mug sitting next to a coffee maker. There was a small pantry on the far side of the kitchen that was mostly empty.
Moving out of the kitchen and down the hall, he passed by an empty room with a desk in the middle. The room looked untouched and empty, like Dean hadn’t decided to do anything with it yet, which was odd considering he had been living here for several months now. There was a laundry room next door with two old washing machines sitting along the back. They didn’t look like they had been used much.
The last room was the large living room that Dean had fallen asleep in. There were two sofas facing into an open space, with the low table in the middle. The laptop sitting next to the empty bottle was still switched off. There was a set of drawers pushed against the wall in the far corner, but there was nothing inside or on top.
The house seemed quite empty of personal items. There weren’t any decorations or photos on the walls or any of the flat surfaces, and most of the rooms felt like they had been empty for a long time. It was unsettling. Even the bunker had had pictures and personal items scattered around, despite it being more of a hunter’s base than the kind of houses Cas had seen on TV.
Not sure what else to do, he sat down on the sofa, intending to wait until morning when Dean woke up. However, as he moved to close the laptop, the screen lit up to show a video that had been open. Curious, he clicked on the play button, and his eyes widened in surprise as the security camera footage from the bunker started playing. It was the footage from the day that the Empty had taken Cas.
Why had Dean been watching this? It happened over a year ago. Why was he still rewatching it? Was it because he missed Cas? If he did, why would he watch this video? He was sure that Dean had better videos or pictures than that?
He remembered the events of that day very clearly, so he turned it off, closed the laptop, and sat back on the sofa. Sam wasn’t wrong when he said Dean wasn’t well. He knew the man drank a lot of alcohol, but he had found a concerningly high number of empty beer bottles scattered around, even for Dean. He hated the idea that Dean was making himself ill out of… guilt? Grief? A small part of him suggested it might have been regret, but he buried that thought, at least for now.
When you come back, he goes back to normal. Sam’s words echoed in his mind. If that was the case, then Cas would stay as long as Dean needed him. As long as he wanted him, he would help his friend in any way he could, and right now, that meant waiting until he woke up.
It felt like sunrise took a long time to come, and when he finally heard movement from upstairs, Cas stood up and waited with bated breath. He didn’t know exactly how Dean would react to him suddenly being back. The last few times, he’d greeted him with a hug and smile, but Cas was aware that what he had said the last time they saw each other may have changed things for Dean. But as heavy footsteps came down the stairs, Cas decided that no matter what happened, he’d be there for Dean.
The footsteps reached the floor, and Dean came into view from the doorframe, looking tired and scruffy and oh so Dean. He looked up, squinting. His eyes locked onto Cas’s and… he kept walking.
He walked right past the living room and into the kitchen, not sparing a glance back at Cas.
Cas blinked in surprise. Dean ignored him? Why… had he not seen him? Was he angry at Cas?
Not knowing what to think, Cas hurried out of the living room and followed Dean into the kitchen, where he was putting coffee on. He stood in the doorway silently, not knowing what to say. Dean glanced back up at him before turning around to face the coffee maker, his back deliberately to Cas. So he had seen him.
Of all the things that Cas had thought Dean might do, this wasn’t anything close to what he had imagined. Dean had seen him; he was sure of that much. Then why wasn’t he saying anything? Why wasn’t he reacting, and why was he deliberately trying not to look at him? Was it because of what Cas had last told him? He knew Dean had had some issues with internalised homophobia, and his vessel was male, but he never imagined Dean would be so blatantly disgusted with him.
Cas stepped forward slightly, still unsure of what to do, and took a deep breath. “Hello, Dean.” He said, trying to find some way to start talking about this.
The reaction was instantaneous, as Dean went rigid, his back straightened, and his shoulders tensed in a way that looked almost painful. Cas could see his hands curled into fists on the countertop, and they were trembling slightly.
That only solidified in his mind that Dean hated him. Maybe it was because of what he said, maybe it was because of how he left him. It wasn’t enough to push him away, but it hurt, knowing that the man he loved hated him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he stepped forward again.
“Dean, I… I want to-”
He was cut off when Dean’s body slumped forward, letting his head drop into his hands and shaking it.
“You’re not here.” He heard Dean breathe out, talking so quietly that only Castiel’s angel senses could have heard.
That stopped him in his tracks. What? Dean had seen him; he had heard him. Why would he think he’s not here? “Dean, I am here. I-”
“NO!” Dean turned to face him, keeping one hand on the countertop to steady himself. His eyes were watery and red, and looked full of anger and sadness. “No, you’re not. I really am going insane talking to my hallucinations.”
Hallucinations? Dean thought he was imagining Cas, that he wasn’t real. Though he was still very worried for his friend, the knot in his stomach loosened slightly at the knowledge that he hadn’t been ignoring him out of hate. That explained his earlier lack of reaction. Dean had just believed he was seeing things that weren’t there. And the fact that he hadn’t even felt surprised suggests that it wasn’t for the first time.
“Maybe I just need to get out of the house.” Dean was moving now, walking towards him with his eyes trained on the doorway behind him, the coffee sitting forgotten. He moved like he expected Cas to either get out of the way or just move straight through him. But Cas wasn’t going to let him just walk away from what he thought was a hallucination.
Reaching out, he caught Dean’s forearm as he tried to move past, pulling it towards him. Dean’s eyes widened, and he tried to jerk his arm back, but Cas held it fast. He brought Dean’s hand to rest on his chest and held it there, using his free hand to grasp Dean’s upper arm and pull him closer, until they were face to face.
“Wha-”
“I’m here, Dean. I’m here, and I’m real, and I’m not going anywhere.” He spoke as firmly as possible, watching as the shock in Dean’s eyes shifted to disbelief.
They stood there for several seconds; the only sound was Dean’s breathing. His mouth opened and closed and opened again before he slowly moved his other hand up to cup Cas’s cheek, his hand trembling as he brushed his fingers tentatively over Cas’s stubble.
“…Cas?” He said quietly, his voice breaking as he spoke. It sounded strained, like he still wasn’t sure whether or not to believe him.
Cas kept one hand on the hand over his chest but relaxed his grip on his friend’s arm, waiting patiently for him to process what was happening. He did brace himself for Dean to get angry, for him to yell at Cas for how he left, for just showing back up out of nowhere. He didn’t brace himself for Dean to hug him.
Without warning, Dean rushed forward, wrapping his arms around him with such force that Cas stumbled back, landing on the floor with Dean still hugging him, not seeming to care. After blinking away his initial shock, he brought his own arms up to return the hug, and Dean tightened his hold. He could feel nails digging into his back through the trenchcoat, but all he cared about was that Dean was hugging him like he was afraid he’d disappear again.
As he held Dean, Cas could feel all the aches and pains that were flickering through his body; most notable was a hangover in the form of a headache. But he could feel all the slow damage that had built up over who knows how long. His liver was damaged and overworked, the soft layers of fat that all humans had were gone, and muscle fibers were weak from underuse and malnourishment.
He knew Dean didn’t like it when he healed him without permission, but as they sat there, he couldn’t help but push a little bit of his grace through Dean, soothing out the worst of the pains and repairing as much of the damage as he felt he could get away with. He felt Dean relax a little more when he did so, though that might have been him getting more comfortable half kneeling half sitting on the floor. If he noticed, he didn’t mention it.
“How are you… I thought you were gone.” Dean whispered, burying his face into Cas’s neck. “How are you here?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Cas responded, gently running his hands through Dean’s messy, unwashed hair. Dean didn’t seem to object, so he didn’t stop. “I woke up in the Empty and got myself kicked out again.”
He felt Dean chuckling, and when he pulled back from the hug, he had a small smile dancing across his lips. “That does sound like you.” He said, keeping his hands resting on Cas’s shoulders.
Even as he was smiling, Cas couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under his green eyes. “Dean, you look awful.”
Dean snorted. “You, on the other hand, look great.”
Cas could tell he was deflecting and kept pushing. “I mean it, Dean. What happened?”
The smile slipped from his face as he glanced at the floor. “I don’t know, man. I just… After you… died, and we defeated Chuck, the world just felt… wrong without you, you know? I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, and it just kind of… fell apart.” He gestured vaguely with one hand.
Cas opened his mouth to respond, to apologise for leaving, but he was cut off by the loud growl of Dean’s stomach, and he remembered that Dean likely hadn’t eaten for a while.
He stood up, pulling Dean up with him. “You need to eat.” He said, looking over at the fridge, wondering if he could make something. He knew from experience that he wasn’t a very good cook, but hopefully there would be something simple.
“Don’t bother,” Dean muttered, following Cas’s gaze. “There’s no food in there. I haven’t gone shopping in a while.” He looked a little sheepish, and Cas noticed he still had one hand on his forearm.
“Why don’t we go out to eat. I remember a place not far, where you enjoyed the breakfast options.” Cas watched as Dean rubbed a hand over his face, noting how he glanced back at him as soon as he opened his eyes again.
“Alright, but I need a shower first. You can… well, make yourself at home.” He said, gesturing at the kitchen before hesitantly letting go of Cas’s arm and turning to head back upstairs, glancing back as he went.
Cas sat down on one of the chairs, listening to the sound of footsteps moving around and the sound of the shower turning on. He took those few minutes to think about what had just happened. The realization that Dean had been hallucinating him for who knows how long. He wondered if Sam and Eileen knew, though he suspected that Dean would have done his best to hide it. It wouldn’t surprise him if Dean had tried to hide his drinking and depression from them as well, not wanting to worry them.
He listened as the sound of the shower stopped and footsteps moved across the floor. They went quiet briefly, presumably Dean getting changed, before moving to the stairs and down. They faltered when they reached the kitchen doorway, and Cas knew Dean had stopped, probably second-guessing if Cas was still in the kitchen or if he’d imagined it.
When he did walk through the door, Cas saw his shoulders visibly relax when they locked eyes. He looked a little less scruffy than when he had first come down, his eyes more awake and his hair slightly damp.
Standing up, Cas walked over to Dean. “Shall we go?”
Dean nodded, raising his hand to pat him on the back before turning and heading towards the front door. Cas noticed that his hand had hesitated slightly before it made contact; the little squeeze felt more for his own benefit than for Cas.
As Dean grabbed the keys to the Impala, Cas rested his hand on his forearm, making him start. “Are you sure you’re up for driving?” He asked. It hadn’t escaped his notice that while walking down the hall, Dean hadn’t been able to walk in a perfect line, swaying slightly as he went.
“Cas, I’m fine.” Dean tried to wave him off with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Cas tilted his head and squinted at Dean, letting the silence tell him he wasn’t fooling anyone.
“Really, I’m fine. I can make a short drive without crashing and burning, thank you very much.”
“…”
“I can drive just fine!”
“…”
“…Fine!” Dean threw up his hands and tossed Cas the keys. “Just be careful with her.”
Cas smiled and took the keys, then walked over to Baby and slid into the front seat. Dean slumped down into the passenger's seat, and they headed off. He turned on the music and kept it at a low volume. Cas was very glad that Dean had taught him how to drive the Impala a few years ago. He already knew how cars worked, but it felt good that Dean had trusted him enough to be the one behind the wheel. He had rarely seen Dean let Sam drive; the only exception was after one of the hunts that Cas had joined them while he was human, when he physically couldn’t, and even then, it had taken some convincing. Needless to say, it was a nice feeling.
While he kept his eyes on the road - Sam would always get upset at Dean for looking away – he could feel Dean’s eyes staring at him as they drove. He didn’t speak, just stared, his head leaning against the headrest.
“It’s hard to believe you’re back, man.” He said, after about 10 minutes of silence. His voice was low and soft, and it sounded like he was almost talking to himself. “Just out of the blue, appearing in my living room one day.”
“I realised that must have been quite a shock,” Cas said, feeling a little guilty. “I apologise.”
Dean shook his head. “It was a welcome one. Though if I had known you were coming, I’d have cleaned up a little, so you wouldn’t’ve had to see what a mess I am first thing in the morning.” He chuckled softly, running his hand through his hair.
Cas wasn’t sure whether or not to mention that he had actually arrived last night and was the one who had put Dean back in his bed. But then Dean started talking again, and he decided to tell him at a later time. He would tell him eventually; he never wanted to have to lie to Dean again, but now wasn’t the time.
“So you don’t know what happened? You said you just suddenly woke up, and that’s it?” he asked, looking back at Cas curiously. “Jack said he tried to reach you after the Empty took you, but it had sealed him off. Do you think he managed to get through?”
Cas had considered that when he first woke up, but this time felt different. “I don’t think it was Jack. The first time, when he woke me up, I heard his voice, or an echo of it. This time… I didn’t hear anything.” He said, shaking his head. “I plan on doing some research about it later with-”
He was cut off by Dean, who sat up suddenly, his eyes wide. “Sam! We’ve got to tell Sam you’re back! He’s still living at the bunker with Eileen, who’s moved in with him. He’ll be so excited to see you. Let's head to the bunker after-”
“Dean,” Cas interrupted. “Sam already knows.”
Dean’s smile faltered slightly. “What?”
“The bunker was the first place I went after waking up. I thought I’d find both of you there, but Sam informed me you had moved out.” He explained, not wanting Dean to think he’d sought out Sam instead of Dean first.
Dean took a few seconds to respond before shrugging and leaning back in his seat. “Well then, you’ll have caught up with Sam. You must have surprised him by showing up before his morning run.” Dean chuckled to himself.
“Dean,” Cas says as he pulls into the diner. He had thought he’d tell him later, but it had come up twice now, and he felt guilty for keeping it from him. “I actually came back yesterday, late in the evening. You were asleep when I arrived at your home.”
“Oh.” Was the only sound that Dean made, not looking at Cas as they parked and got out of the car. He didn’t say anything else until they were seated with their menus in hand.
“So… did you put me back in my bed?” He asked in an embarrassed tone, glancing over at Cas with a sheepish look. Cas wasn’t entirely sure why he wore that expression, as it had been Cas who moved him without permission, but he nodded.
“You often complain about having a bad back, so I thought you might be more comfortable.”
Dean’s face shifted into an odd expression that he couldn’t quite place before he buried his head back into the menu. “Thanks.” Was all he said before being distracted by the food options. “Pancakes and bacon sound pretty good right now.”
Cas hummed in agreement as he scanned the menu, more for something to do than actual interest in the food. He usually ordered a coffee so as not to stand out too much, but as he looked at the options, his stomach couldn’t help but growl softly, which surprised him.
He had never needed food before, except for when he was human, but as he sat there, he recognised the feeling of hunger in his stomach. It was slightly concerning, considering he still had his Grace and was very much still an angel, but right now, there were other things he was concerned about.
The waitress came over to take their orders, and when Dean ordered a stack of pancakes with bacon and syrup, Cas asked her to make it two. She smiled and refilled their coffees before heading back into the kitchen.
“You feeling alright, Cas?” Dean asked, shooting a concerned look at him.
Cas nodded. “Probably a side effect from returning from the Empty. While my Grace is still intact, it seems that my vessel has caused me to develop more human qualities.” It was most likely the result of him gaining a soul, or at least part of one. He still wasn’t sure what effect this would have on his abilities, as none of them seemed compromised any more than usual, except for his flight. Speaking of souls…
“Dean, what happened to you?” Cas said, leaning forward and fixing Dean with his eyes. He could see just how pale Dean’s skin was in the diner's soft lighting, and his eyes looked a little bloodshot.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and shrugged. “I don’t know what else to tell you, man. I just… I wasn’t… I didn’t take great care of myself when you were gone. Stuff just…happened.” He kept looking away, not maintaining eye contact for very long. He looked uncomfortable and guilty. It was the same answer he’d given at the house, though now Cas was asking about something different.
“I mean, what happened to your soul?”
Dean just frowned, squinting back at Cas like he didn’t understand the question. “What do you mean?”
“Your soul, Dean. It looks… broken. Fractured. That’s not something that just happens.” He leaned forward, swallowing a lump of worry that had built up in his throat.
Dean’s face stayed confused for several seconds before his eyes widened slightly, but he quickly schooled his face back to neutral. “It was nothing important.” He said, waving a hand dismissively. His tone of voice told Cas that it was something very important, something big that had happened and was probably connected to a failing that Dean held himself responsible for.
“Dean, please don’t lie to me.” He said, keeping his voice low.
“What? You don’t trust me?” Dean joked, leaning back in his seat with a forced smirk, but Cas could see the tension building up in his shoulders.
“Of course, I trust you, but I know you often feel responsible for things that happen to the people around you, and I can also tell when you are lying. I want to know if you made some kind of deal or-”
“It was a spell,” Dean admitted, cutting Cas off. “I found a spell that… well, it was supposed to… it said it could get you back from the Empty. I had to find a whole lot of ingredients, and one of them was angel grace. I knew getting an angel to respond to my… ‘request’ wasn’t going to happen, so I summoned Rowena to help me extract the leftover Grace from you, putting me back together. She said that apparently, a chunk of my soul got pulled out in the process. But it’s fine. I don’t notice it.”
Dean kept rambling on, but Cas had stopped listening as he struggled to process what he had said. He had fractured his soul to try and get Cas back? Did the idiot not understand the risks or consequences of what he had tried? Why had he been so reckless as to-?
He froze as another thought popped up, interrupting his growing anger, and he felt himself reaching up to rest a hand over his chest, where he could feel his new piece of soul steadily humming. Except it wasn’t his, it was Dean’s.
That may have explained why it hadn’t felt too out of place, despite him still having his Grace. He had gotten so used to seeing Dean’s soul, to being near it and being able to feel it every day, that having it suddenly woven into his very being hadn’t felt very jarring. In fact, as he thought about it, one of the reasons he hadn’t questioned it much was because it had felt almost…right. Like it fit perfectly into a gap he had never noticed was there.
But no matter how well he felt it fit, it wasn’t his. It belonged to Dean, not him, and he had to give it back. He could only imagine the discomfort that Dean had had to endure from missing part of his soul.
Dean was still rambling about some details of the spell when Cas leaned forward and spoke over him. “Dean, you cut out a piece of your soul for the spell.” His voice was low. “I think that, whatever you did, it worked. That was what woke me up and allowed me to escape the Empty.”
Dean’s eyes went wide, and his mouth opened and closed silently for several seconds before he responded. “You mean, it worked? How? That was nearly two weeks ago! How…”
“Time passes differently in the Empty,” Cas explained, not wanting to waste time on the obvious. How was Dean not more concerned about his soul? Surely he could feel how horrible it was to have it damaged like that? And for him to have had to endure that for two whole weeks. “The part of your soul that you lost from the spell, it’s in me. I think that the spell somehow transferred the soul to me and that’s what freed me from the Empty’s hold.”
Speechless, Dean sat back in his seat and stared at Cas for a while, until the edges of his mouth quirked up and he huffed out a small “Huh.”
Why wasn’t he reacting more? Why wasn’t he demanding Cas give his soul back? He clearly hadn’t meant to give it up to him, so Cas could only assume he was still in shock. “When we get back to your house, I’ll find a way to give the part of your soul back to you. It shouldn’t be too difficult as my Grace is still intact, but it could-”
“No.”
“I know it might be a painful process, but-”
“No.” Dean insisted, straightening up and looking Cas in the eyes. The previous guilt and discomfort are gone, replaced by that signature Winchester stubbornness. “You keep it.”
Cas shook his head, feeling exasperated and frustrated. Why couldn’t he understand? “It’s your soul, Dean. It belongs to you, and you need it back.”
Dean just shook his head, a small smile settling on his cracked lips. “If you having it keeps the Empty from dragging you away from me, then you keep it. Besides, there’s no one I’d trust more to keep it safe than you.”
His hand tensed and relaxed under the table, unsure whether to be angry or comforted by that. He knew Dean meant that because he would never have said it otherwise, and he'd be lying if he said the words didn't make his heart flutter slightly.
A small part of him had been worried about how Dean would treat him when he was back. Worried that he might have been angry at him or, even worse, disgusted with him. He hadn’t expected Dean to reciprocate; that was something he knew he couldn’t have, but he also hadn’t really been thinking about the consequences of what he said on their relationship. After all, he thought he was about to die, permanently, and Dean’s life had been in danger, so the consequences had been the last thing on his mind.
But now they were here, with no immediate dangers or imminent apocalypses, and sooner or later, Cas was going to have to face the consequences of what he had said. For now, though, Dean seemed content not to mention it. To sweep it under the rug and ignore it, at least for now. That was usually how Dean confronted things he didn’t like or that made him uncomfortable.
Thankfully, the waitress came by with their food before Cas’s mind delved any further into those thoughts. “Here we are.” She said cheerfully, sliding two stacks of pancakes onto the table, both drizzled in syrup with strips of bacon along the side.
Dean flashed her one of his charming smiles before attacking his pancakes with more gusto than Cas had ever seen before, and Cas had watched Dean eat a lot of meals. He couldn’t help but smile. No matter what he goes through, Dean Winchester’s eating habits never change. Except that they had.
Sam was right in saying that Cas had never seen Dean after he died, but he had always assumed that he had mourned, then moved on, as he had for so many of his other friends. He hadn’t expected the Dean he had found sleeping on the sofa, with sunken eyes and skin that was a little too tight. Part of it was probably due to the stress of losing part of his soul, but Sam’s concern suggested that it had started a lot sooner.
He had felt the extent of the damage when he had healed Dean in the kitchen. There hadn’t been much fat left on his body, and much of the muscle had begun to break down. His body had been suffering from a severe deficiency of several vitamins and minerals, and was weak from lack of use. It hadn’t seemed like Dean had been actively damaging his body, just that he had stopped caring. That thought almost broke Castiel.
“You gonna eat that, man?” Dean’s voice pulled Cas out of his thoughts as he gestured towards the untouched stack of pancakes in front of him. Dean was already halfway through his stack.
Nodding, Cas picked up his knife and fork and started eating, much slower than Dean. To his surprise, the pancakes didn’t taste like molecules. It tasted like… pancakes. Several different flavours melded together beautifully in a way that made his mouth water for more. This wasn’t his first time eating pancakes, Dean had made sure of that when he was human, but he had forgotten just how much joy there could be in a single bite of food.
He glanced up to see Dean watching him with a smile on his face. “I’m guessing you can taste that, then.” He said, pointing with his fork. Cas nodded, still savouring the flavours in his mouth. “And your mojo is still all there?” Another nod. “You lucky bastard.” He laughed.
Cas tilted his head and squinted at Dean. While he did agree that he was quite lucky to have kept his Grace intact without any noticeable consequences, something told him that wasn’t what he was talking about.
“You get the best of both worlds, man.” Dean gestured around, nearly knocking his coffee over. “You get all the perks of being human, without any of the annoying downsides, like colds or injuries.”
“Hopefully, that’s true. Though I haven’t ever heard of an angel having both a soul and their Grace, so I can’t be sure there will be no side effects.” He hoped there wouldn’t be. He remembered getting sick the first week he had been human, and it had been awful. He hoped that wasn’t something he’d ever have to go through again.
“After this, I’m going to take you to try all sorts of food. There is so much you’ve been missing out on.”
They spent the rest of the meal with Dean filling Cas in on everything that happened after the dungeon, though he noted that Dean seemed keen not to talk about what happened in the dungeon. He only finished one and a half of the big fluffy pancakes before he felt satisfied and slid the rest over to Dean, who devoured them in minutes.
Dean paid the check and tipped the waitress with a wink, and they headed back to the car. He didn’t even put up a fuss when Cas asked for the keys again, saying that he wanted to relax after a big meal, though Cas could tell he was still tired.
It sounded like the world had settled down quite a lot in the last year and a half. They had defeated Chuck, and Jack had taken over as God. Cas was still worried about the pressure and responsibility that were now weighing on his son’s shoulders, but Dean assured him that whenever Jack visited, he seemed to be doing well. And Cas couldn’t help but feel so proud of how far Jack had come.
Sam and Eileen were doing well, too. Apparently, Chuck had also gotten rid of everyone on Earth for a while before the Winchesters could defeat him and Jack could bring everyone back. After that, they had been ‘glued at the hip’ as Dean said, though Cas quickly guessed that was either sarcasm or a reference that Dean would show him the film it was from later. They had been hunting a lot together, and Eileen had moved into the bunker more permanently.
When he mentioned the hunting, Cas heard Dean mumble something about being grounded, and after a little bit of pressing, he admitted that Sam had grounded him from hunting after he got a bit reckless on a vampire nest hunt. Good, Cas thought, glad that Dean hadn’t been hunting while in his state.
It was nice, talking like they used to. Part of Cas had been worried that their friendship would have changed after everything he had said, but Dean seemed content to settle back into their old routine. A small bit of his brain was disappointed that he didn’t reciprocate his feelings, but he hadn’t said it so that he could have him, so if Dean would rather go back to being friends, Cas was happy with that. If he could keep their friendship, he was happy.
They ended up going grocery shopping before heading back to Dean’s house. He had already told Cas that there wasn’t any food in his house, so he decided that, since they were already out, it would be easier to sort that out now. Dean didn’t put up any protest, and Cas secretly revelled in the feeling of driving Baby with Dean next to him. He knew it likely wouldn’t happen again.
They fell into their easy silence as they shopped, with Dean picking stuff out and Cas adding in some healthy things, because someone needed to look out for the hunter’s health, he clearly wasn’t. That wasn’t a nice thought, and Cas dismissed it almost immediately. He would make sure that Dean wouldn’t reach the state that he had first found him in yesterday. Even if Dean complained about the ‘rabbit food’.
“I don’t eat that rabbit food, Cas. I’m a… a warrior.” He complained as they packed away the food in his cupboards. Dean had been sulking the whole drive back about having to eat so much healthy stuff, though Cas could tell most of it was just performative.
“Humans have been eating this type of food for thousands of years.” Cas countered as he set out the bunch of bananas in the bowl on the kitchen table. “And you need to take better care of your body.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man. My body feels fine.”
“Only because I healed it.” Cas kept his voice level, but there was frustration there, anger even. Because he couldn’t forget just how broken Dean had felt when he had healed and soothed him. He couldn’t forget the feeling of all that damage that he knew was self-inflicted.
“Dean, you had stopped taking care of yourself a long time ago, so I am going to make sure that you eat at least one healthy thing a day. By any means necessary.” He crossed his arms like he had seen Dean do when he made a point that he was going to stick to, and levelled the man with his gaze.
Dean opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, his green eyes staring back at Cas. There was something flickering behind them, a myriad of emotions that Cas couldn’t quite pin down, but desperately wanted to understand. The moment stretched out as they stood there in Dean’s kitchen, and a flicker of uncertainty flitted through his stomach. He hoped he hadn’t gone too far, hadn’t just pushed too hard, and that Dean wouldn’t kick him out. He hoped he hadn’t just crossed the line.
The line. There had never been a line before, not really. They had never truly set boundaries because whenever either of them pushed, the other just let them. At the beginning of their friendship, Dean had mentioned personal space, but after a few times of Cas forgetting, he had just stopped reminding him, and they both started settling into each other’s space whenever they wanted, because it had never felt anything other than normal. Now though, now everything was different. Cas had admitted that all those little things meant more to him than they did to Dean; they meant something different. The line would now be more clearly established, and Cas would have to be careful not to cross it. That thought made his heart sink just a little.
Dean opened his mouth again. “Cas… I-”
He was cut off by loud knocking on the front door. Breaking eye contact, Dean glanced down the hall towards the front door as the knocking continued. He looked back at Cas once more, who hadn’t looked away, before moving out of the kitchen to let in whoever was there.
“Hey, Dean!” Sam called cheerfully as the door was swung open to reveal him, Eileen, and Jack standing in the doorway. He hunched over to hug his brother and looked up to smile at Cas, who had moved to stand in the hall. “Hi, Cas.”
“Dad!” Jack squeezed past the brothers to run at Cas and wrap his arms around him. Cas couldn’t help but smile as he pulled Jack into a hug, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and the other resting on top of his head. That was another thing he had missed, hugging his son.
“Jack dropped by as we were heading over,” Sam explained, moving past to let Eileen hug Dean. “We decided that Cas getting back deserved a celebration.” He held up a six-pack of beer.
“Thanks for dropping a message,” Dean grumbled, unable to completely hide the grin building on his face.
Sam just smiled and moved to set the beer down in the kitchen. “By the way, Cas,” he said, unpackaging the beer and sliding the bottles into the fridge. “I did start looking into your soul thing, trying to find anything that sounded right. I haven’t found anything yet, but I’m sure we’ll figure it out eventually,” He smiled reassuringly.
“That was good of you, Sam, but there is no need,” Cas responded, sorry that he hadn’t informed his friend sooner to save him the research time.
“Why not? Have you figured it out? Was it Jack?” Sam turned his questioning gaze to Jack, who shook his head, his arms still wrapped around Cas.
“Then what-?”
“Actually, I can answer that.” Dean’s voice drifted in from behind him, a mix of pride and guilt. Cas moved into the kitchen and to the side to let Dean and Eileen in, Jack staying leaning into his side like a clingy kid. Cas loved it.
“So, you remember when you told me not to do anything stupid?” There was definitely more guilt in his voice now than pride as Sam raised his eyebrows extensively. “Well, I might have found a spell to bring back Cas from the Empty, and in doing so, I may have accidentally fractured my soul and somehow transferred a chunk of it to Cas.”
“What! Are you insane! Why did you say anything? Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped, I could have… What were you thinking?” Sam exploded, waving his hands around while Dean looked sheepish.
“I didn’t know if it would work. I… I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up if it failed, okay.” Dean shrugged, glancing briefly at Cas as he spoke.
“Well, why didn’t you call then?” Sam demanded, still looking pissed that Dean had done something so dangerous without telling him. Cas was glad to see that Sam was reacting similarly to him when he’d found out, then maybe they could actually make Dean see how much harm he had done to himself, instead of shrugging it off and deflecting.
“Because I didn’t know. I did that spell two weeks ago. I thought it failed.” Dean gestured around vaguely. “I only found out this morning, when Cas showed up in my kitchen.”
Sam buried his face in his hands and let out a groan to show how done he was with his brother's recklessness. Eileen looked like she was suppressing a grin as she stood next to Cas and Jack as she watched the two brothers argue back and forth.
“Well, at least I have an answer to the soul question,” Sam muttered, giving Dean his resting bitchface, which prompted Dean to bark laughter.
“You were probably up all night researching, weren’t you?” He teased.
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.”
Cas’s attention was drawn away from the argument as Jack looked up at him, a guilty frown on his face. “I tried. I promise I tried to get you out.” He mumbled, his shoulders hunching slightly as he spoke. “I really did, but the Empty locked me out. I’m sorry.”
Cas rested his hand on Jack’s shoulder and smiled. “I know you did. And I’m proud of you. Dean and Sam have both told me about what you’ve been doing in Heaven, and I’m proud.” He felt a swell of pride and love as Jack beamed at him and hugged him again. He knew Dean hadn’t told him everything, but he knew Jack had already done so much for the world and for Heaven, and he would keep doing it just because he knew it was right. There was a lot to be proud of.
“Well, now that you’ve invited yourself over, let’s get this party started!” Dean said with a grin, clapping his hands together and grabbing a beer from the fridge.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Cas just got back. Is it such a crime to want to spend time with him? He’s one of my best friends, too. You can’t hog him forever.”
“I haven't even had him for a day!”
Frowning, Sam glanced around at Castiel before looking back at Dean. “He came back yesterday. Did you get lost, or sidetracked?” He asked, rounding on Cas.
“Dean was asleep when I arrived yesterday; I thought it best to let him sleep,” Cas explained, accepting the beer Dean passed him.
“Oh.” Was all Sam said, deciding not to question that any further. “Well, now it’s time for some good old family catch-up. By the way, Jody and the girls are going to be coming round tomorrow. I told them Cas was back, and they insisted.”
The rest of the evening flowed on as everyone talked and laughed. They moved into the living room after grabbing beers and snacks, and everyone was eager to catch him up on everything that had happened. Sam and Eileen told him about the work they were doing at the bunker, helping other hunters and occasionally going on hunts themselves, though being careful not to stumble into another apocalypse. They told him that they had also gotten engaged, planning the wedding in two months, and that they would be overjoyed if Cas would be there. He agreed immediately, glad that they had managed to find happiness with each other.
Jack filled him in on what he had been doing in Heaven, talking excitedly about every little detail. Apparently, it had been quite difficult with so many angels having been gone, but once Jack had gotten a proper handle on his new powers, it was coming along. It would be a long time before everything was truly fixed and sorted, but he seemed hopeful.
He lost track of how long they were talking because it was dark by the time Jack finished. Just as he was finishing up telling him about how he had redesigned how souls see Heaven, Cas noticed that Dean hadn’t come back from when he had excused himself to the bathroom several minutes ago. After Jack had finished telling his story and asked Sam about a piece of mythology he had started looking into, Cas excused himself and went to look for Dean. He found him standing out on his back porch, leaning against the railing with a beer, looking up at the night sky with his eyes closed. He looked relaxed, more relaxed than Cas had seen him in a long time. He almost regretted breaking the silence.
“Hello, Dean.” The man jumped slightly at his voice, then relaxed and turned around to smile at him. That beautiful Dean Winchester smile that was so rare and so wonderfully precious that it made his stomach feel fluttery and light. The way the moonlight made the tips of his hair glow faintly and his forest green sparkle made him look vaguely ethereal, though Cas was likely biased in his opinion towards the man.
“Hey, Cas.”
“Are you alright out here?” He gestured around at the empty patio. It was unlike Dean to seek out quiet, usually unless there was something wrong, but he looked relaxed and comfortable, so Cas wasn’t sure.
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a lot, you know? I haven’t really had many people over since I moved in; Sam and Eileen visit occasionally, but it's never been like this.” He gestured toward the door back to the house as Eileen’s laughter could be heard echoing out. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”
Cas couldn’t help but blink. Dean’s voice sounded thick with emotion as he spoke, the sound low and comforting in a way he couldn’t explain. “I’ve missed you, too.” Was all he could think to say. Dean deserved more. He deserved more of a life after Chuck. He deserved the world if he would only ask.
They stood in silence for a few minutes, Cas moving to stand next to him at the railing. He could feel the heat radiating from Dean as their shoulders brushed, and had to resist the urge to move closer and cuddle in against his chest. Instead, he bathed in Dean’s presence, grateful that he was still allowed their small touches.
“Cas,” He was pulled out of his thoughts as Dean spoke, turning his head to see Dean still looking out at the garden.
“I think we need to talk.” He stepped back from the railing and turned to face Cas. His face was blank, but something in his eyes kept shifting. He picked at the label of his beer briefly before setting it down and looking Cas in the eyes. “About the dungeon.”
His breath hitched at the words, his entire body going stiff. This was the conversation he had been half hoping to avoid. He knew what Dean was going to say, knew that he would likely let him down as gently as he could, but Cas almost wished he left it unsaid. As an unspoken whisper. He had never considered the consequences of what he had said because it was supposed to be the end. But that wasn’t fair to Dean. It wasn’t fair to leave it if Dean needed to talk about it, though that was the only reason Cas didn’t spread his wings and disappear off to somewhere else to avoid the conversation. He dropped his gaze to the floor, not wanting to see the expression in his eyes as he spoke.
“You lied to me back there.”
His head snapped up so fast he might have gotten whiplash if he were a human, but as he opened his mouth to object, to assure Dean that everything he had said was true, Dean held up his hand.
“Please, just… let me finish.” He looked around before meeting Cas’s eyes again, running his nails along the lines of his jeans nervously. “Back in the dungeon, you said you knew you couldn’t have what you wanted, but that wasn’t true. You didn’t know. You just assumed. You couldn’t have known because you never asked. And I never said anything, which I regret, but you should have asked, man. You should have said something sooner.”
He was rambling, but most of it passed by Cas completely. This wasn’t the rejection he had expected, though he had no idea where Dean was going with this.
“Was I wrong?” His voice sounded almost challenging, if not for the slight crack in his voice, because if this was how Dean rejected him, then he’d rather just get straight to the point. “You always spoke of me as a friend, as a brother…”
“Cus I was scared shitless, Cas!” Dean’s voice was raised, panic starting to seep in, which made Cas even more confused. “You’re a frickin’ angel, man! A-a giant cosmic being! ‘God’s most holy’! You exist in planes and dimensions that my monkey brain can’t even begin to understand! Up until that point, I wasn't sure you could even feel the same way, Cas. I didn’t think that there were any possibilities for… well, us. But then you went and got yourself killed before…”
“Dean,” he said, cutting in as Dean’s rambling because he had to know. “Where are you going with this?”
Taking a deep breath, Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor as he spoke. “What I’m saying is… I’m sorry. For making you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it. For being such an asshole to you instead of telling you that I… that…” He seemed to trail off in frustration, though it didn’t seem aimed at Cas. He balled up his fists at his sides as he tried to find the words.
Cas wanted to ask more, to say more, to voice the questions that were now burning the back of his throat as a small flicker of hope came alive in his mind. But before he could even start, Dean’s hands shot up and cupped his cheeks, pulling him into a kiss.
It was brief, Cas barely having time to react before he pulled back, but it was so sweet and gentle that he mourned the loss of contact the second it was pulled away, and it left him reeling. Dean’s hands didn’t move as he rested his forehead against Cas’s, and he could feel them tremble slightly, though not from the cold. Dean’s breath was hot against his face as he looked at Cas, his eyes swirling with hope and fear.
“You can have me, if that’s what you want.”
The words were mumbled, but Cas felt something click in his head, like the final puzzle piece sliding into place, and all he could say was “Oh” before his mouth was crashing back into Dean’s with a desperation he didn’t know he felt.
Dean’s mouth tasted like the cheap beer, and was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. In the back of his mind, he wondered if it was his soul giving him more human qualities that allowed him to taste Dean, or if this would have always been what it was like. His soul. Dean’s soul. The one he had handed over and entrusted to Cas. No wonder it felt like it fit so well together, like that’s where it was made to be. Only it hadn’t been made to fit; it had chosen to. They had chosen to. They had chosen each other over and over, even after the whole universe had tried to tear them apart. This was love, the purest kind.
Dean’s tongue darted out, coaxing Cas’s mouth open, and it was almost embarrassing how quickly he complied, savouring the feeling of Dean’s tongue against his mouth. He ran his own tongue along Dean’s teeth and smiled at the shiver he felt run up the man’s spine. The kiss started desperate and needy, but trickled off into something sweet, both of them just savouring the feeling of each other.
He felt Dean’s hands running through his hair, and he let out a little moan as he pressed further into Dean. His own hands had wound around his waist to pull him closer, not wanting even a nanometre of space between them after so much time apart. One hand gripped his shirt, not wanting to let go in case it broke the spell and the moment ended. He felt Dean’s hips roll against his and move closer so that everything was pressed together, and he melted into it.
By the time they pulled apart, they were both panting for breath. Cas leaned their heads together, not wanting to move too far. Dean’s eyes were still closed, and his lips were swollen and pink. Cas trailed kisses along his jawline, brushing his lips over the stubble. Dean made a noise at the back of his throat, and he buried his face into Cas’s neck, pressing his lips to the bare skin.
His hand slipped under Dean’s shirt, his fingers sliding over the warm skin and up his back. One of Dean’s hands stayed raking softly through his hair, while the other dropped down to cradle his waist, holding him close.
“Cas.”
“Dean.”
The words were murmured low and soft, saying everything they needed to. For once, both of them knew exactly what the words meant.
They stayed there for a while, letting everything soak in as they pressed gentle kisses into one another. It felt like their own little Heaven, where it was just them for as long as they wanted. Eventually, the sound of laughter from inside prompted Cas to break the silence.
“I think maybe we should head back inside.” He wanted to stay out here, pressing soft, slow kisses into Dean forever, but the rest of their family was waiting for them.
“There’s no rush.” Dean pressed another long, slow kiss into Cas, and he let his eyes slip shut again. “We have all the time in the world.”
That felt true. It felt like time couldn’t touch them as they stood there, in their own little bubble.
“I want you to stay,” Dean said between kisses. “With me. For as long as you’ll have me.”
“Dean,” Cas whispered, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. He brought one hand up to brush his thumb against his cheek. “You’ve always been my home.” He was glad to finally say it, and when Dean just crumbles into him, it never felt so right.
They stayed out there for a little longer before moving back inside to the rest of their family, with the promise of many more loving days and nights to come.