Chapter Text
“Hello Dean,” said the voice coming from behind Sam and Dean, startling them. The boys had been sitting in the alcove, pouring over lore from a multitude of books while Sam’s computer sits open to receive any new articles about the strange new occurrences in the world.
“What the hell man,” Dean blurted out, “We’ve been calling you,”
“Sorry, I was…” Castiel’s voice trailed off. He paused as if he was trying to pick his next words very carefully, “I’m here now,”
“Thanks for coming Cas,” Sam’s voice was so thick with pity, it caused Castiel to wince as if he was struck by a blow. Sam’s lips were pursed together in a shape that looked to almost be a smile as he gave Castiel a curt nod.
Castiel looked rough. There was no other way to put it. His hair was in complete disarray, his tie was so loose it practically wasn’t even knotted anymore, and his trenchcoat reeked of alcohol - all of Castiel reeked of alcohol. He knew how he looked, he knew the boys were pitying him. Hell, Castiel couldn’t even look Dean in the eyes. He didn’t want Dean to see him like this, but here he was.
Truth be told, Dean could barely look at Castiel either. He couldn’t handle seeing him like this. He wanted to reach out to Castiel, to hug him, to hold him, to make him feel all right again. He pictured himself doing this. Grabbing Castiel, cupping his face with his hands.
Dude what is wrong with you. This is Cas. Sure he’s struggling but he’ll be fine. Just stop thinking this, it’s weird. You don’t actually want this. Why do I feel like I want this? You don't, you're just worried about your friend.
“Ahem,” Sam cleared his throat, trying to drown out the staggering silence. “Cas, man, what’s going on. You can’t disappear on us every year like this. You can talk to us about it,”
“There is nothing to say. I won’t let this affect anything,”
“We don’t need to have that deep feelings, pour your heart out talk. But we don’t even know who this girl - Rose - is. Could you tell us anything,” Dean’s words came out harsher than he had intended. He simply wanted to give Cas an “out”; the ability to talk about Rose again. He knew how badly he wished people would ask him about his mom growing up, how it almost made her feel like she was still around every time he was given the chance to talk about her. He wanted Cas to have that feeling again. The feeling that Rose isn’t as far gone from him as he feels she is.
Castiel winced again upon hearing her name. It set a surge of agony throughout his entire body that made his shiver. Oh, how he wanted to have her once again.
It was silent for quite some time. Castiel wanted to speak, but the words were caught in his throat. What would he even say about her? What could be said? Rose is not a person that can be simply defined; hell, Castiel raised her, yet even he barely knows who she is.
He looked out at the boys’ faces. Sam wore a sympathetic expression with his signature puppy dog eyes to match, willing Castiel to speak about her. Dean, on the other hand, wore a more stern expression. If it were anyone else they would assume that Dean was angry or annoyed and wanted silence, but this was Castiel. Castiel could see the comfort in Dean Winchester's eyes. He knew that Dean was there for him, and that he wanted to hear him speak about her.
Castiel hasn’t spoken about Rose (save for the time that he finally told the boys about her) since her death. He didn’t think he would be able to, however, for some reason, looking into Dean Winchester’s eyes, he felt that he could speak about her.
“Is there anything specific you want to know about her?” Castiel’s voice was barely above a whisper. As he said this he walked over to the table that the boys were sitting at and pulled out a seat, sitting at the end of the table with Dean on his left side and Sam on Dean’s left side.
“What kinda music was she into?” Sam asked. It was an innocuous question, sure, but Sam couldn’t think of anything else to ask at the moment and he just wanted to get the conversation started. Dean peered over to give Sam a confused what-the-fuck look when he asked this. Sam responded with a shrug.
“She loved all music,” Castiel answered, a small smile already beginning to form on his lips, “We used to say, her friends and the angels, that she knew every song in existence. She would always deny it, but there was never a time that a song was played where she didn’t know all the lyrics. She loved music, truly,” Castiel paused and began to chuckle softly, “One time, she was frozen for two hours watching the same thirty seconds of a Ethel Cain concert because she was so mesmerized at how she sang a part of this song. She was obsessed with music. She was never not listening to it,” Castiel’s smile had grown even further.
“Damn, a chick after my own heart,” Dean said, before abruptly shutting up, realizing that probably wasn’t the best thing to have said. At this, Sam shot Dean a dirty look, before turning to Castiel.
“Two hours of the same thirty second clip?” Sam asked, to which Castiel chuckled.
“She was a very unique individual. Everything about her was. You both would have loved her, though for very different reasons,”
“You mentioned she was good at spells,” Dean blurted out. It was necessarily a question, but he wanted to say something; he wanted to be there for his friend.
“Oh, yes. She was quite good at them. She made her own all the time. We’ve probably used spells she’s created without even knowing, it would be impossible to know. Rose would go back in time to create spells if she had to. She would do anything to ensure that humanity was left intact,”
“You know, I’ve been wondering this: why didn’t she help us in this Earth? She, what, helped every other one, but ours?” Dean asked. This was actually something that he had been quite curious about when he first learned of Rosemary’s existence.
“Truthfully, I don’t know. Being who she was, she was privy to many prophecies that I, nor even Michael were able to know about. Whenever I asked her about it, she just said that this Earth was for the two of you, not for her. She did give her help every once in a while she admitted,”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Dean exclaimed. He looked over at Sam, expecting him to be giving Dean a dirty look, though he seemed equally confused.
“When you would fight with a monster, every once in a while, she would - as she called it - ‘go invisible’ and perhaps nudge a weapon closer to you if it was too far away. She also mentioned that she had created spells for us to use, and conveniently laid them in our path,”
“Wait, so this girl has been helping us this whole time?” It was now Sam’s turn to exclaim.
“Yes,” The boys paused at this, expecting Castiel to elaborate, yet he didn’t.
“That’s fucking creepy man” Dean replied. He didn’t want to argue about this too much, knowing the lost Castiel was feeling, but he had to say something.
“It was helpful,” Castiel’s smile had now fallen and was replaced with a frown as his face seemingly lost all previous color. “That’s all she wanted to do - help humanity. It was everything to her.
“Cas,” Sam said quietly, “It’s okay, man. It wasn’t your fault,” Sam looked to Dean to say anything, but his eyes were fixated on his best friend.
“No, Sam. It was my fault. She died protecting me and- and Michael. She didn’t have to di- she didn’t have to leave us. It was my fault. I swore to protect her and I failed,” Castiel’s eyes began to well up with tears, he could no longer speak, knowing that his sadness would betray him.
“Dude, you can’t carry that type of guilt. There was nothing you could have done,” Dean knew that his words fell on deaf ears, yet he hoped that some part of what he said would get through to Cas.
Castiel didn’t speak, he couldn’t. He had been carrying this guilt for so long it felt like at any moment it would swallow him entirely.
He doesn’t know. He would think I was pathetic if he knew.
“It is my fault. That - that - that,” Castiel’s face was contorting with anger, “That thing,” Castiel spit out, acting as if those words contained bile themselves, “gave her the choice. To save me and Michael, but in turn she had to…” Castiel couldn’t finish his sentence. He was practically hyperventilating at this point. Sitting straight up in his eyes, his chest heaving as if he had just ran a marathon, and his eyes held a crazed look in them.
“Cas, calm down,” Sam started, before Castiel interrupted.
“It’s my fault, she should still be here. I fought with her. I yelled at her. I never yell at her. Never. But I did, and I couldn’t apologize before she was taken from me,” Castiel’s sadness did betray him. Tears were now streaming down his face freely. He couldn’t calm himself.
“To Rose, there is nothing worse than failing, and I told her she failed. I told her she failed. I yelled at her and now she’s gone and she won’t, she won’t,” Castiel was now almost choking on his own tears. He didn’t want this to happen, yet here he was, sobbing in front of the Winchesters. In embarrassment he put his head down on the table and threw his arms overtop; doing everything in his power to control his tears.
Instinctively, Dean reached out and grabbed Castiel’s arm with his hand, trying to ground him. It hurt Dean to see him like this. It was a visceral hurt, one that he didn’t expect to feel. It was almost as if Dean himself was struggling with a loss. After several minutes, Castiel’s sobs began to cease as he regained composure.
“Do you have a picture of her?” For the second time, Sam shot Dean a dirty look, though he didn’t feel bad for asking. Just as he liked being asked questions about his mother, he also liked showing people pictures of her. He wanted her smile to touch someone else’s eyes.
Castiel's faded smile slowly returned as he opened his trench coat and grabbed a folded out picture from the breast pocket. As he unfolded it, he felt a sob caught in the back of his throat, yet he did his best to push past it, hoping the boys didn’t see it; they did. The picture was of Rosemary at sixteen years old. She was peering over what appeared to be a spell book, wearing quite possibly the largest smile ever seen. She was sitting rather peculiar. She was crouching in her chair and had her knees pulled up so her head could rest on them. Her hair was - to put it simply - wild. It was covering part of her face, over her book, and dipped into a golden bowl laying beside her. Both of Rosemary’s hands were, in perfect teenage fashion, flipping off the camera.
Sam and Dean leaned down to look at the picture. Dean thought nothing of it, just happy that his best friend was finally opening up to them about someone so important to him. Sam, on the other hand, was perplexed. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had seen the girl before. He couldn’t remember where or what she was doing, all he knew was that he knew her.
Sam was drawn to the picture - drawn to her. Not necessarily out of attraction, but something deeper, something unexplainable. He knew her, in not in body then in soul.
“Sammy? Earth to Sammy,” Dean was waving his hands comically in front of Sam’s face. In that moment, Sam realized that Dean and Castiel had been carrying out a conversation and probably talking to him, however, he had been too wrapped up in his confusion facing Rosemary to hear them.
“Uh, yeah, sorry. I’m listening,” Sam stuttered out. Dean gave him a ‘dude, get your shit together’ look before turning back to Castiel. Sam tried to pretend to care about whatever the hell Dean was droning on about to Castiel, but his thoughts quickly drowned out his voice.
What is wrong with you, man? Calm down and be there for Cas.
Sam couldn’t will himself to pay attention though. Something about her smile specifically, he knew that smile. He knew her. As badly as Sam wanted to ponder this strange girl and the even stranger feeling attached to her, he was pulled back to reality when he saw Castiel’s eyes well up with tears.
“Cas, man, it’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself,” As Dean spoke these words, it almost looked as if his own eyes had begun to sprout tears. However, his face quickly hardened until to stood expressionless.
“You don’t know. You don’t understand,” Castiel whispered, looking down. Sam knew he had to step in.
“You couldn’t have done anything. You didn’t know what was going to happen. You didn’t affect her death at all,”
“Yes I did!” Castiel was now practically screaming, as the tears flowed freely down his face, “She left for me!”
“Whoa, calm down man. Whatever the fuck it was that killed her didn’t do it because of you,” Dean reached for Castiel’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. Castiel, in returned, covered his face with his arms as he continued.
“She died because of me. She was given a choice and she chose to save ME!” Castiel crumpled to the floor as Sam and Dean rushed to keep him upright. As they pulled him up, he flung himself to the table, throwing his head down to conceal his tears. Sam and Dean shared a look before trying - and failing - to comfort their friend. They stayed like that for quite some time. After several minutes, Sam and Dean sat in the chairs on either side of Castiel as they continued to sit with him in silence.
Finally, Castiel raised his head, his face red and swollen. He stared lifelessly at the shelf of books, trying to slow his breathing after it had choked him when he sobbed. For the first time since Castiel’s outbreak, someone spoke.
“You alright man?” It was Sam. He had been trying to catch Dean’s eyes to will him to say something, but Dean’s gaze was fixated on Castiel.
“Yes, I apologize. It’s just with Rose -” Castiel cut himself off unable to finish his sentence. He refuse to let himself cry again. Suddenly a loud crash was heard near the door that lead outside. Jumping up, the three boys ran upstairs to see what was causing the break in the otherwise quiet nature of the bunker.
Though they could not see who or what caused the commotion, it was clear to the boys that something had broken into the bunker. Dean shot a look to Sam and Castiel before silently reaching for his gun; Sam doing the same as Castiel lowered his Angel Blade to his hand.
They stood like that for just a moment before Sam caught a glimpse of a shadow lurking behind him. He nudged both Dean and Castiel to get their attention. The three shared a knowing look before sharply turning to face the figure.
Dean meant to yell at the figure, to scare it, to let it know that they would make it regret breaking into their bunker. However, upon seeing the figure, his jaw went slack. He could do no more than stand in utter disbelief. It would take him several months before he finally knew why he was so affected by this figure, in this moment.
Sam was overcome by - well - everything. So much so that in that moment he felt that his body would give out. He let his gun drop from his hand and crash nosily to the ground. He felt his own knees buckled, but, by some grace, was able to stay upright. Sam, much like Dean, wouldn’t find out why this figure affected him so much; although the realization would come to him much sooner.
As aggressive and intense these boys’ reactions were, neither was more emotional than Castiel’s.
His face lost all color. For several moments he lost the ability to speak, but finally he was able to gurgle out a simple word,
“Rose?”
“Come on Cas, that’s ‘pose to be a secret. Or has my absence caused you to forget everything?”