Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cas never had a specific destination in mind when he left. All he knew is that he needed to protect the tablet, not only from the angels and humans, but from himself. It was the only way to keep what remained of his brothers and sisters, and for now, it was his only way to help. This made it of vital importance that he found a new location for it, some place more remote than the middle of America. A thousand places sprang up in his mind, but none of them seemed to appropriate. He needed to think. He needed to think and run, try to figure out where to go and what to do. He was desperately trying to get back to the person that he once was, the person he hadn't been in years, without the influence of any one else. No leviathans, no broken soul, no Naomi, just Castiel. So he decided to wander. Wherever other angels or demons or even hunters were, he was decidedly not going to be. While he was currently headed towards the west coast, he hadn't planned on stopping there. He hadn't planned on anything, really. Just that he was going to stay on Earth and keep 'a low profile'. This meant no flying or smiting for awhile, and that was surprisingly..okay. Human methods of travel were rather sow, but slow was almost exactly what he needed for the moment. Time to think, time to be, just, in general, time.
Unfortunately, he was distracted and he knew it. He was aware of the fact that he needed to focus on the angel tablet, but he found his thoughts were too scattered and frantic for it to be possible. He was occupied with things other than the tablet, mostly worrying about those that he had left behind. Meg, for some reason, kept popping up in his mind. He was still confused about her, not sure of how he felt, but he was concerned. Something told him that she hadn't made it out of the whole mess alive, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of...sadness? Disappointment? It was uncertain exactly what he was feeling, but it was unpleasant nonetheless. Thinking of her reminded him that he should probably get more in touch with human society and culture while he had this time. At the next place he could, he would have to pick up a book or film or something, though he had honestly no idea where he was supposed to start out.
Meg was hardly the only one on his mind. Though the relationship had been strained at times, he had become close friends with the younger Winchester, family even. The burden that Sam was carrying, well, leave it to a Winchester to do something so stupidly suicidal and dangerous. Cas wished that he had been there to warn against either one of them trying to take on the trials, but in the back of his mind he knew that they wouldn't have listened anyway. The worst part was than he had to keep running, couldn't stop and help like he so desperately wanted to, even though he doubted he could do much for Sam even if he was present. Still, if anyone could succeed in both closing Hell and making it out alive, it would be a Winchester.
And then there was Dean. Dean, his best friend. Dean, more important to him than Heaven and Hell combined. Dean, his family that he had almost killed. And perhaps most importantly, Dean Winchester, the man who refuses to stop praying to him.
That was always the worst part of leaving. Dean's voice, practically screaming in his head, begging him to come back, to help, just to simply be there. Cas could block out a thousand voices, from humans and angels alike, but for some reason, Dean always cut through whatever walls he put up with perfect clarity. His prayers always followed the same pattern if Castiel was gone for long enough.
The prayers immediately started out harsh, angry, as if he was yelling out to the world.
Dammit Cas! Get your feathery ass back down here! I need you!
The bitter words always dissipated quickly, replaced with desperate, hopeful pleas.
Come on, Cas, please. I know you can still hear me, I know you can. Just, come back, all right? I'm not gonna ask for the tablet or about Naomi or anything like that. Not yet. Not now. I just..i just want you back, okay? Please. I need you.
Eventually, Dean gives up. The prayers are barely whispers, screaming whispers, if they are even spoken out loud. It's the point where Dean knows that Cas isn't coming back for awhile, if at all, and he is unsure whether or not Cas is still listening, but the words come anyway. These are the prayers that aren't even truly prayers, more like one-sided conversations.
Hey Cas. Look, I doubt that your line's still open, but at this point, I guess it doesn't matter. Man, I gotta talk to someone, you know? Now, I'm not much for anything chick-flicky or touchy-feely, but there's something I have to admit; I scared. I really am. For the future, for the trials, for my idiot little brother. I mean, these trials? They were supposed to be my burden, and then Sam had to come in and save my ass. Dammit, Sam. I was supposed to suffer. I was supposed to go through these, Sam was supposed to get his apple-pie life. It doesn't help that he's friggin' lying to my face about it, what with the coughing up blood and crap like that. I love Sammy, but I swear to God I'm going to strangle him sometimes.
And then there's you. Man, the last time I think I got to see you being you was in freaking Purgatory. I wish you would've just told me, I mean, come on, we had to talk about that shit sometime, didn't we? I realise that you've been under Naomi's influence ever since you got out, but there's still some stuff that seemed pretty real, pretty, I dunno, you. Like the self-loathing crap. That's my thing, got it? Look, you gotta know, we all do things we regret, but you weren't even you. I mean, we have to keep fighting, you hear me? What I'm trying to say is, I miss you, okay? I wish you were here. Not because we need your help, which we do, and not because you're a bad-ass demon smiting machine, which you are, but because, well, I'm getting sick of talking to myself. I'm sick of talking to thin air when I could be, you know, actually talking to you. God, when did I become such a freaking girl? But seriously man, you haven't even been to the bat cave! There's no way you're gonna understand that reference, is there? See, this is what I'm talking about, we have got to catch you up on some stuff when you get back. Assuming you come back. You'll come back eventually. Right?
Anyway, yeah, the Men of Letters place? Pretty awesome. It's almost like a normal, real home. I have my own room! I haven't had my own room since I was, like, five or something. And a real kitchen, bot just a microwave and mini-fridge! Okay, yeah, I like cooking. Shut up. Speaking of which, I make a mean burger, you have got to try them some time, it's like a flavour explosion, a delight to the taste-buds.
You know, you could even, well, stay with us, if you wanted. I mean, um, there's a bunch of spare rooms and yeah... You could even nerd out with Sam over the random documents and crap that they have stowed here. And you know what? We could totally get a cheap TV set and DVD player, and I dunno, kick back, have some beers, watch some movies. You know, whenever we had some down time, and it's be awesome. You should really come back. We'd have a bunch of crap to sort through, and there's still challenges to come, but, well, we could have some great times. Maybe, with just the three of us, we could forget about Heaven and Hell and monsters for awhile, just kind of sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.
But that would mean you coming back. That would mean that you're listening, and that's too good to be true. And Cas? If you are still listening, if you can hear me, I just want you to know, it would be really great if you came back. I mean, eventually. I get that you're going through some stuff right now and that you probably have to deal with that on your own, but, still, come back soon? Because I really do need you, just..just for you.
These prayers were always the most painful for Cas to hear, the loudest in his head. They weren't demanding, they weren't pleading, just the simple thought of 'Hey, it would be kind of nice if you stopped by.' The simplicity of it, the normality of it, that's what made Castiel chest feel like it was going to collapse. That was what made every fibre of his being, every muscle of his vessel ache to return. It would be so easy, so effortless to just go back, to be accepted once more, to be a part of the only family he ever truly had. He couldn't of course. As Dean would say, 'he had shit to do' before he could go home. That didn't mean it didn't hurt, though. Not by a long shot.
Sometimes, in his absolute worst moments, he hated what the Winchesters have turned him into. He hates how much he feels, how much he cares, how...human he was. Life had been so easy before them, all he had to do was follow orders, be the good little solider. Yet, easy wasn't necessarily good. Despite how much it could hurt, he couldn't help but, in some way, be grateful. Blindly following orders, being controlled, well, in all honesty, it's worse than death. If there's one thing that Castiel had learned in recent years, it was that he really likes having free will.
Cas leaned back and closed his eyes with a bit of a sigh, reflecting on everything that had happened. At first, his thoughts were painful and frantic, reminding him of everything he should feel guilty about, and he desperately wanted them to stop. He had reached a point where he knew focusing on the tablet was going to be a near impossibility, so instead he tried to conjure up some pleasant thoughts, a distraction. Childhood memories came to mind, reminders of him laughing and playing with his siblings, but the thoughts quickly turned sour as he realized most of those people were gone. It was his fault. He dispelled these thoughts that only seemed to disturb him further by focusing on something else. In his mind, he could clearly see the splay of freckles he could count for days, the amused smirk that reached bright green eyes, and the strong, determined jawline of the Righteous Man. Not only that, but he entertained the idea, the vague hope of maybe one day going back, seeing the “bat cave”, and making it so Dean wouldn't have to be talking to air. Anyone who was paying attention would see a small smile playing on the angel's lips.

Chapter Text

Then the angel's eyes shot open and he was back in Purgatory, fighting back to back with Dean. Somehow, it had become worse than he remembered, wrong even. The place was constantly shifting, swirling and forming into new shapes, new nightmares. Yet, for some reason, Cas felt completely disconnected from it, almost as if...
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Dean's voice cut through whatever doubts were playing in his mind, if only because they were incredibly unexpected. No, that wasn't right. The voice wasn't unexpected, but the tone was. The words should have been sharper, harsher, but instead they were only filled with a sad disappointment.
“Man, you got out. You were free. Why come back?”
That's right. He remembered, he had gotten out awhile ago. Last time he checked, he was currently on a bus headed towards the coast. Then it fell into place for Cas, and while it seemed unlikely, it was far from impossible.
“Dean, I believe I'm dreaming.”
“So of a bitch. I mean, it makes sense, but seriously? Can just pop in for a chat with my subconscious but...wait, whoa, did you just say that you're the one dreaming.”
“Yes, I believe that is what I stated.”
“I thought angels didn't sleep.”
“Not in the traditional sense, no, but we can reach a state of rest if needed.”
Dean gave a bit of a huff before saying, “Still my dream.”
Castiel opened his mouth to contradict, but before any words came out, Dean continued on.
“Look around Cas. My home, my car, my dream.”
It was then that Castiel finally realized that their surroundings had indeed changed. Gone was the terrifying darkness of Purgatory, replaced with the comforting presence of the Impala's interior, parked outside of the “bat cave”. For a moment, Castiel considered pointing out that this still could just as well be his dream, but gave the notion up. It seemed more likely that he had wondered into Dean's subconscious than created his own anyway. Still, the environment had become pleasant enough, and this was the only way he could contact Dean for a while, so he might as well enjoy it. For a few moments, they sit in peaceful silence, neither of them feeling the need to say anything. However, the calm is quickly destroyed with the storm, and the world starts to crack and blinding bursts forth from them. Cas, as calmly as he can, turns towards Dean for an explanation.
“Shit. Looks like I'm waking up.”
Castiel didn't know why, but those words made him feel a pang. Apparently he wasn't quite ready to give up this time spent with Dean, even if none of it was real. It would be over soon, he observed, considering the white had already eaten away at the bunker and most of the outside world. Dean gave him a thoughtful look as the world was disappearing around him.
“Hey, Cas?”
“Mmm?”
“This is a dream, right? And dreams, well, they sure as hell don't effect reality, at least, not for the most part. Plus, well, I can always just vehemently deny that it happened, if I even really remember it, so....”
Cas was starting to wonder what Dean was rambling about when he felt his tie being tugged. The elder Winchester had grabbed onto it and was currently pulling Cas towards him, until finally their lips were locked. The kiss wasn't anything particularly special, only lasting for a second or two and it felt..wrong, vague and not fully formed (well, it was only in a dream), but what the kiss represented was overwhelming. By the time Cas recovered from the initial shock, Dean had already pulled away and most of the world had fallen apart. Dean barely had time to shoot him a grin and a wink accompanied with an affectionate, “Come back soon”,before everything was gone.
Castiel opened his eyes.

Chapter Text

He was back on he bus, but apparently night had fallen. He was still disoriented and confused, but, bleary-eyed, he observed the people around him. Most of the seats were empty by now, and those that were occupied had sleeping people in them. Well, except for one or two late night readers, but Castiel felt no particular need to bother them either. Instead, he amused himself by figuring out the lives of the passengers. The young couple next to him were 'starting over', and about to find out that the woman was pregnant, and while they'd have some initial worries, it would luckily be a blessing to the both of them. The bus driver had a malignant tumour forming in his stomach, which Castiel made a mental note to eradicate when he got the chance. One of the readers was a woman in her thirties, recently came out of a bad relationship. While the woman was aware that the relationship had gone sour, she was still slightly rueful about being single. Thus the obscure romance novel in her hand. It was then that Castiel decided that when he actually got around to reading some books for fun, 'romance' was not the genre he was going to begin with. The other reader provided to be more interesting, a college student cramming as he headed back towards his college. Castiel didn't understand why the man was intriguing, but it reminded him vaguely of some one he knew, or had known, one time or another.
Castiel shrugged it off and settled back down. He internalised himself, ignoring the rest of the people that had some how happened to be on this bus with him, unaware of the world flashing past, and he was finally able to focus. He couldn't read the tablet and he couldn't destroy it. The only option that seemed reasonable at this point was to relocate it, some place obscure and remote, some place that wouldn't be found for a long while.
It should have been easy. Cas should have tossed it to the farthest reaches of the ocean floor, or launched into space, or some other place where it wouldn't be found for millennia, but there was a small part of him that was selfish. There was a tiny little part of him that wanted to be able to reach it again, just in case it became vital. There was also the curiosity of what does it actually say? Despite knowing how potentially dangerous the words could be, he couldn't help but have the temptation to bring it to the prophet, to actually find out what these oh-so-destructive words.
It should have been easy.
Cas was too far gone for that.

Chapter Text

Cas was almost at his (first) destination. The small town in California was the official last stop on the bus he was taking, so he kind of had to get off. He was still uncertain as to where he was going to end and what he was going to do, but for now he was content to watch the world go by. No matter how long he observed this reality, no matter how many times he visited Earth, he couldn't help but marvel at his father's creation. All of the power, all of the structure, all of the infinite variations and possibilities of the world in front of him, it was breath-taking. Awe-inspiring. And then there were human beings. They had been a pure stroke of genius. All of them, they've come amazingly far since being nothing more than some bacteria in the life of soup. It was glorious and tragic and over-whelming. Yet, often times Castiel hardly had the freedom or patience to appreciate it all. The call out of 'Last stop!' made by the bus driver made it painfully aware to him that now was one of those times, and he had to direct his attention away from the window.
Luckily, Cas had been deposited somewhere with plenty of shops and people mulling about, so information about is location should be easily acquired. In addition, while both food and sleep were unnecessary, they both had a certain allure during his journey, and as Cas stepped out of the bus he found himself rather appreciative of his surrounding. Feeling the pleasant intensity of the sun, he tilted his head towards the brightness, allowing the warmth of it to embed itself into his skin, filling in the smallest of the cracks that had formed after a few...millennia of stresses and worries. Inhaling deeply, the salty, crisp smell of the ocean filled his lungs in a rather satisfactory way, and he had a sudden understanding of why many humans were so inclined towards the coast. While he enjoyed it so far, something in the back of his mind reminded him that he had never seen the ocean in person. He was struck with a sudden sense of longing to witness it for himself, but there were a few other matters to take care of first. Apparently, the sight of a man wearing full business attire and trench coat in 75 degree weather was considered unusual. People were giving him suspicious looks and the last thing he needed right now was to stand out. It seemed that a change of clothes was in order. Well, except maybe for the trench coat. He had grown fond of the trench coat. Still, the thought of changing clothing was slightly disconcerting, especially considering that he had no idea where he supposed to start. There were approximately five different clothes store within immediate proximity, so he went to the one who's display seemed the most appealing and hoped for the best. Fortunately, the store was filled with a variety, but much to Cas's chagrin, no one appeared to be in it, so he had no sense of what he was to do next. He scanned over the ridiculous amount of options for about a minute before a voice finally called out, “Hey there, you all right? You seem a bit lost.”
Lost. Yes, that was an accurate term, in more ways than one.
Castiel turned his head in the direction of the voice to find a lovely young shopkeeper that had been previously hidden behind the counter. He chewed his bottom lip for a few minutes in contemplation (a habit picked up from the Winchesters) before responding, “I am unsure of what I'm supposed to do. Perhaps you could assist?”
“Well, are you looking for any particular style or function?”
Another moment's hesitation before he replied, “I wish to become more...inconspicuous.”
The woman gave him a half-flirty, half-joking smile as she said, “What, are you on the run from the police or something?”
“Human police give me no trepidation. It is angels and demons that are my concern.”
With the suspicious look that the shopkeeper gave him that universally meant 'Oh, so you're a nutter', Cas was instantly reminded that maybe lying would be rather useful on this trip. To make up for his slip, he attempted to give her a smile that suggested he was kidding and cover his tracks by saying, “No, actually, I would just prefer to not appear as a tourist.”
The smile returned with a slight look of relief.
“Oh, okay. Yeah, I get that. Though, in all honesty, you kind of are in the wrong district, I mean, this entire place is touristy stuff. Still, you can hardly go wrong with casual.”
She then proceeded to voyage around the shop selecting a variety of styles and outfits, Cas following behind all the while, until finally she unceremoniously shoved everything into his arms. “Here, why don't you try these on and see what you like?”
Cas quickly complied, beginning to undress before the woman held up her hands to stop him. With a slight blush on her face, she indicated to the right and said, “Um, fitting rooms are over there.”
Cas gave her a brief blank stare before saying, “Oh. Yes, thank you.”
She replied with a smirk.
“You're kind of helpless, aren't you? Like a toddler in a trench coat.”
He froze, everything going stiff as the words seemed to cut through him. Apparently, the change in body language was noted.
“Oh, hey, sorry man, I didn't mean anything by it. Sorry if I offended you or anything.”
His breath and voice came out shakily, though he did visibly relax as he told her, “No, I apologize. You were at no fault, it was just that your statement was similar to what an old friend of mine once told me.”
“Oh, Okay then.”
Castiel gave her a smile that he hoped would be reassuring and headed off to change. It took awhile to get through the surprisingly large stack of clothes and figure out what he approved of, but eventually a conclusion was reached. Cas settled on only having a dark blue v-neck, bright green t-shirts, some jeans, and a pair of red converse. Reluctantly, Cas shoved his old clothes (along with a certain sense of security) into the satchel he had been carrying and went up to pay. He quickly dug out some cash and paid for the items. He was about to leave with a smile and goodbye, but before he had the chance to exit, the shopkeeper blurted out, “Would you like me to show you around?”
Blank stare.
“I mean, um, the shop's not exactly busy, I could probably close up early, and you, um, don't really seem like you know your way around and I'm pretty familiar with the town and it might be helpful and um, yeah...”
Blink.
“I'll buy lunch.”
There were a million reasons not to. She could be a spy, it wasn't unheard of. He would only be in town for the night. It would be dangerous to get close, for both him and her. He needed to focus on the tablet and what if she discovered it and what if she was a thief and what if...? He shouldn't. He couldn't. Yet, he found himself wanting to do it, and his mouth, against his better judgement, seemed to form words of approval.
“That would be...nice. As long as you are certain it wouldn't be a burden.”
She positively beamed at him.
“A burden? Not in the slightest. Um, just let me close up shop real quick and we'll head out.”
The woman tidied up at a rapid pace and grabbed her wallet before taking Castiel up by the arm and heading out the door.
The duration of the afternoon and evening was rather pleasant. The two of them mostly wandered around the town before ending up at a diner somewhere. They had chatted copiously, the conversation mostly focused on her, which Cas didn't mind in the least. In fact, he was grateful for it. Not only did he actually enjoy listening to someone else, hearing their story and being amazed by what she was willing to reveal, but the more she talked about herself the less they talked about him. Participating in the conversation would only mean spewing lies, and listening to her speak seemed much more comfortable and natural to him. Their meal, though humble, was fantastic, him thoroughly enjoying the burger in front of him and her showing immense pleasure over some sort of pastry thing. Eventually, they had finished everything and had lapsed into a comfortable silence. This silence was broken soon enough by the woman though, as she sighed contently and told him, “You know what? I've really enjoyed spending the day with you. For some one so clueless, you're actually pretty good company.”
“I have also enjoyed this day.”
“But you know what's crazy? We've spent several hours together now, and I still don't know your name.”
Should he lie? It didn't seem worthwhile.
“I am Castiel.”
“Nice name. I'm Deanna, in case you were wondering.”
Deanna.
Dean.
Dean.
Something dropped in the pit of his stomach and his chest felt like it was about to cave in. Dean's voice had been distinctly missing from his head the entire day, but now it cut though everything else.
Hey, um, Cas. I think it's about time for me to crash, so, um, you know. If you wanted to drop in for a nightly visit or something, I'd be okay with that. I mean, the thought of you rooting around my subconscious isn't exactly appealing, but, well, if it's gonna be the only way I can talk to you, then, um, it's fine. It's more than fine. I mean, silence is way less tolerable. Silence usually means some serious shit went down. So, um, yeah, feel free to stop by.
“Earth to Castiel.”
It appeared to Deanna that Cas had simply zoned out, so what he said next was somewhat unexpected.
“I'm sorry. It seems I must leave now.”
“What?”
Castiel quickly gather up his satchel and threw some cash on the table, hoping that it would cover his half of the meal. He exited the booth rapidly, but before he could make it, a hand latched onto his arm and green eyes locked onto his.
“Hey, come on, what's up? I mean, I thought you were enjoying yourself, now all of the sudden you're leaving? What the hell?”
Cas gave her a soft smile.
“I genuinely am sorry, but I have an old friend to catch up with.”
With that, her grip was released and Castiel was out the door.

Chapter Text

“Dean?”
“Cas!”
Nothing had formed yet. Cas could only find darkness, but Dean must be somewhere in this dream, there had been a response. Slowly, colours and patterns started to form, though they were still too vague to make out. A heavy hand clapped on his back and he spun around to find the smiling form of one Dean Winchester.
“Hello Dean.”
“Hey Cas, I'm glad you could make it.”
Finally, the background settled into an unfamiliar, but seemingly pleasant, environment. There were plenty of room, though some areas seemed to be more solid than others.
“I'd thought I'd show you the bat cave today. I mean, it's just a dream, so it won't really be as good or as accurate as the real thing, but, you know, it works. For now. I still need you to come back sometime, but, still, this is better than nothing.”
Cas gave a small nod and studied the bat cave. This was the Winchesters' home. He had to admit, it was far preferable over the dingy hotel rooms that they were normally stuck at. Also, despite the fact that it was a bunker, the whole placed felt...lived in. Like it actually was supposed to be a home rather than a security measure. Yet, Cas still felt his mind drift to one singular thing.
“May I see your room?”
Dean gave him a half-crooked smile and took up Cas's hand in his own as he said, “Sure thing, Cas. I was kind of hoping you'd ask.”
A small shiver went up Castiel's spine as their hands met, but for the moment he was distracted by their environment shifting to reflect Dean's visage of his room. It was for the most part sparse, thought there were some various mementos in the room. Weapons on the wall, classic rock records, a photo of Dean with his mom. Overall, the room just seemed to...fit. Anyone that knew Dean would come here and think, yes, this is clearly where he belongs. A home for the homeless.
Cas looked over to Dean and found immense satisfaction on the hunter's face. He looked peaceful, content, and almost prideful, which he hadn't seen on the his face since...well, just about ever.
“Pretty great, ain't it Cas? You know, there's really only one thing this is missing.”
“What would that be?”
“You.”
Cas turned towards Dean, confused by his statement. In fact, Dean's general attitude towards him in these night time visits was strange. Pleasant, but strange. The small smile on Dean's face didn't exactly help matters.
“Look, Cas, man, we gotta talk. Don't worry, it's not like the tablet or crap like that, just, I have to admit some things to you, and for some reason, it's way easier to do it in a dream. Like, ridiculously easier. Easy enough to be possible.”
“Anyway, I...I wasn't lying when I said I need you. It's just that, well, 'I need you' wasn't really what I was trying to say. It's more along the lines of sometimes it physically aches not to be around you. For years, the prospect of not only you being a dude, but also a freaking angel held me back. And now? Right now, right here? I'm just sick of it. Tired of my own bullshit, you know? I mean, you're finally back to being you and you can't even be around and that just pisses me off to no end. I get that good things just aren't gonna happen, but seriously, fuck that. Like, I dunno, but you and your vessel of choice and that goddamn voice of yours and your lack of understanding and your naivety and your badassness and your dumb-ass head tilt and your total disregard for personal space and those freaking blue eyes and and and...”
“I'm rambling, aren't I? Shit. Leave it to a Winchester to find it about 9 billion times easier to give a filibuster then just fucking say something. What I'm trying to say Cas is that, you, everything about you, it drives me nuts. I want you, I need you, I think...I think I love you, and I'm sorry I couldn't have just told that to you.”
Shit.
Was that the proper expression for the moment? Yes, it did seem appropriate.
Shit.
Cas thought it was wonderful and breath-taking and amazing and indescribable. Dean cared about him and wanted to be more then friends and needed him jut as much as Cas needed the hunter. Loved him, even.
It was inconceivable.
It was perfect.
It was torture.
It was worse than any pain Cas had experienced before, and considering what he had been through, that was practically impossible. Because he knew. He knew that he had to leave. He knew that had it been just about anyone else, this would be a glorious moment, it would be a new beginning. For them, though, it would be the end. The moment that both of them finally, finally knew that the other cared and that they mattered to each other and that in the end, not a single damn thing would happen. Dean would wake up. Cas would continue his journey to find some place for the tablet. The only thing that would change would be that being apart would somehow manage to be even more impossibly difficult, and necessary.
It took a few moments for Cas to realize that Dean was gauging his reaction to the information. Externally, he hadn't shown anything, which was probably the cause for the absolute look of terror that was currently embedded in Dean's expression.
Cas tried to say something, he really did. Something, anything, to tell Dean. His throat was sealed off and dry. His facial muscles refused to comply and his brain was blank. This meant that the only course of action that occurred to him was the stupid, stupid act of shoving Dean's face into his own. There earlier kiss had been entirely different from the last one, barely there, a simple gesture. This one, this was desperate and hungry and pleading and simultaneously hopeful and hopeless. It was caught somewhere between a reassurance, an apology, and a prayer. It was a flood of everything, every glance, every feeling, every struggle that had been the past five years. It seemed infinite. It seemed momentary. Either way, they had to pull back, breathless and frantic and wishing that it could have ended sooner and lasted forever. A few moments of silence passed, both of their minds reeling over what had just happened, before Dean eloquently interrupted both of their thoughts.
“Damn.”
Cas nodded.
“Fuck.”
Nod.
“I mean, fuck, Cas, that was...that was...”
“I apologize Dean. That was the wrong course of action.”
“What? No, Cas, don't you dare ever apologise for kissing someone senseless. It's just, that was...awesome. It was unreal. Like, literally unreal. And you can't fucking come back, even after that?!”
“Dean, I...”
“You know what? Just don't, save it for someone else. I get man, I really do. There's shit to be done. Doesn't mean that these time between dreams isn't gonna suck. It doesn't mean that it isn't gonna hurt like hell, or worse, and that's not figurative. Fuck, you couldn't have just told me to piss off and that you never want to see me, that I can handle. But no. You had to feel the same way. Of course you did.”
Cas opened his mouth to respond, to somehow fix things, but a piercingly loud noise interrupted. The world was breaking apart, the light of reality bleeding in and just ruining everything.
“Shit. Alarm clock.”
That was all to be said before the world was obliterated.

Chapter Text

His eyes were only slits, and the room was barely even lit, but the brightness of it all seemed searing. His thoughts, billion upon billions of voices screaming in his head, colliding forcefully, made his head pound and his limbs unresponsive. It was painful to breathe, and flat out impossible to move. They all seemed to have one thing in common: Dean. Dean, the disease as well as the cure, and currently making it very difficult for him to operate. So he shut him out. Not literally, Dean's prayers would always find his way into Cas's mind, but his thoughts of Dean, he could get rid of. These years had been difficult for him, and so he had acquired the ability to put up a barrier against his own thoughts and emotions- to run on autopilot. He would be empty, but he would be functional.
The wall was up, and Castiel finally managed to blink open his eyes and sit up. He was able to take in his surroundings and analyse the circumstances, and it appeared that he had found his way to a dingy hotel room. There was the vague recollection of a bus stop being nearby, so for the most part, his location wasn't vital information. All that was necessary was to know where it was relative to the final position he needed to be in. Because after it all, there was something that he had gotten out of it. He had a destination for the tablet. He was tired. He was done. Castiel figured that if he never had to hear a word about the tablet it would be too soon. The ocean it was then. Marianas Trench should be sufficient for now. It would take quite a while to get it there with out an expenditure of his grace, but maybe that didn't matter. His grace would act as an alarm to his pursuers, but that really be that bad? An ambush would come, from Heaven and Hell alike ,but if the tablet was gone, it wouldn't matter. There was always the torture aspect. Cas couldn't let that happen, so death seemed a much more suitable option. If he needed to be killed by his own hand, so be it. He was okay with his ultimate demise. Ever since Purgatory, whenever he saw his reflection, a monster was glaring back at him. He could hurt, he could destroy so easily, and he had before. Things like him were never supposed to live. And he was okay with that.
Until he thought about the Winchesters. The struggles that Sam has to go through were unimaginable. And Dean, well, Dean was Dean. Logically, Cas knew that they didn't need him. In all likelihood, they were better off without him, most of the time he had made their suffering worse. Yet, Dean's words still rang through his head, clawing desperately and threatening to destroy his wall.
We need you. I need you. Come home.
No. He couldn't, not now, not ever. It was better this way. That simple phrase became Castiel's mantra, guiding him and motivating him to continue on. It was better this way. It was better this way. It was better this way.
Of course, there were still steps to be taken before his flare of grace and his final departure. The tablet still needed protection, so a trip to the nearest location where he could acquire lamb's blood would be in order. Then there was the coast. Cas figured he was entitled to see it while he still had the chance. Lastly, collateral damage was not something that he wanted, so some place abandoned and forgotten would be favourable. Ocean, protection, then death. That seemed reasonable. It was better this way.
Of course, his new location meant that a walk to the beach would be tedious and time consuming, so it looked like he needed to root out some money for a cab. As he dug around in his satchel, he felt his hand hit something cool and slightly clunky. Curiously, he pulled it out to reveal one of the burner phones that Dean had provided for him. Opening it up, he found that Dean had continued to text him his most recent number, and his breath ever so slightly hitched in his throat. He couldn't go back and see him. He probably wouldn't make it to nightfall. This phone represented his last chance to converse with Dean, his final words. But not now. Not yet. He had an ocean to view.

Chapter Text

The waves, the sand, the people, it was beyond Castiel's expectations. Though he knew the reason behind it, though he had seen it's creation, he was entranced. The motion of the waves, the reflection of light, the general joyous atmosphere of the people milling about, it was captivating. Decades would be too short of a time to spend there, but unfortunately, he only had minutes. But his journey needed to continue.
The next few hours were but a blur. Gather necessary materials. Place wards and sigils. Find an out of the way warehouse. It was better this way.
He was ready. First the phone call. Then the tablet. So he hit call.
It rang several times, the sound creating a hollow tinny sound as it echoed throughout the warehouse walls. In the end, it came to voice-mail, which was actually preferable. Cas was unsure of whether or not he could manage to hear Dean's protests and continue on with his plan.
Hello Dean. I apologize that I will not be able to speak with you in person, but circumstances have made that rather difficult to achieve. For your information, after tonight, the angel tablet will not be of import. Also, I should no longer be of any concern. Protecting the tablet has some necessary costs, and the likelihood that I shall make it out of this situation is very low.
Anyway, I unfortunately do not possess any information on the trials for you, but I do believe that if anyone were to succeed in closing the gates of hell, it would be you and your brother. I am entirely unnecessary. It is better this way.
And Dean? I believe....I believe that I love you too. Nothing more needed to be said. Cas pondered the tablet for a moment, before wrapping his grace around it and envisioning it disappear. In his mind, he focused on the image of it sinking down, to the bottom of the ocean, and then pushing it further, having it enveloped by the earth, melting in its core and no longer a part of the human world. And then it was done, and there was silence.
For about 3 seconds, that is. Then came what Cas had expected. Demons began to appear at an alarming rate, and Castiel was about to press his knife into his stomach, when something inside his mind screamed
NO.
FIGHT.
IT'S NOT BETTER THIS WAY.
There are two types of people that are the most dangerous in a fight. People that had nothing to lose, and people that had everything to lose.
Castiel was both.
For himself, he had nothing that he cared about. He didn't care if he was barely a pulp when this ended. He didn't care if he became human, if his grace was diminished, if he couldn't move. Hell, he didn't care if he died as long as they were defeated before him.
But now, now he had something to fight for. Something to protect. Sam and Dean. His brother and his...his to-be-determined. His enemies quickly became theirs, and Cas was not willing to let that happen.
He let wrath and grace fill him, light coming out of every orifice and his knife slashing at an inhuman speed. Throats were being slit, bodies were being evacuated at an incredible pace, and Cas was the eye of the storm. Waves upon waves of demons were being summon, and Castiel was smiting them down before a word could be uttered.
Eventually, a hit here and there became thousands, and Cas began to run out of power. He..he couldn't continue to fight. The demons' sheer numbers made victory a nearly unreachable goal. Cas was losing, and Cas was losing fast. He couldn't...he couldn't continue. They were still coming, but he didn't have enough strength left. Slowly, he fell to his knees and waited for his death to come.
But then it didn't. Castiel looked up and all of the demons, well, they had disappeared. The warehouse was empty. He had survived, though he had no inkling as to why. Then he saw the face that had been the subject of his waking nightmares. Naomi.
“Castiel. I see you're getting yourself into trouble again.”
He was too tired to reply, or to protest as she ambled over to him. She calmly helped up with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. He teetered for a few moments before allowing himself to collapse into her arms. Naomi was prepared for this, but was she hadn't planned on was as Castiel fell, he aimed his knife at her ribs. Pain suddenly spread outward, and she knew that his knife was, in fact, an angel sword. She tried to hide her shock and fury, but it was clear as day on her face. Looking into Castiel's eyes, she found that all the weakness had left only to be replaced with a cold, dead rage. He turned the sword until all the blazing light coming from her dissipated and her body disappeared. His strength immediately faded and he was well aware that he wouldn't remain conscious for long. Desperately, he clawed for his cell phone and hit redial.
Dean, it seems that circumstances were in my favour. I survived. Now I would greatly appreciate it if you and your brother could pick me up.
That was all Cas could manage before the phone dropped from his hands and he collapsed to the ground.

Chapter Text

Two pairs of worried green eyes were the first thing Castiel saw. He blinked a few more times and the fuzzy shapes surrounding the eyes started to form. Oh, hey, it was Sam and Dean. That's nice.
Cas was lying on something incredibly comfortable and warm. He was some place unfamiliar, but much nicer that what he was accustomed to. And his family was here, so that was a plus.
Other than that, Castiel felt like crap. His grace was nearly gone, except for a bare smattering that was helping to heal the various cut and bruises he had sustained. He was almost certain that he would become human, most likely within the next twenty four hours. He also ached like crazy and his...everything was painful and exhausted. Yet, he couldn't really get too upset. The tablet was gone. Naomi was dead. Despite it all, he had won, and that was one of the most amazing feelings in the world.

“Cas?”
Dean's voice was incredibly tentative and on borderline panic. Cas wanted to reply with a “Hello, Dean, hello, Sam,” but he found that his tongue just wouldn't comply. It appeared the thrill of victory and freedom wasn't quite enough to keep him awake, so he simply gave them a small smile before shutting his eyes once more.
Cas was jarred awake by the sudden sensation of a hand taking up his own. He found that his eyes only met one pair of green this time, Sam apparently having been reassured earlier. He was feeling rather better, well, except for the fact that he had become fully human during the period of his sleep. He quickly sat upright and faced Dean with another reassuring smile. Becoming aware of Cas's consciousness, Dean rapidly and embarrassedly pulled his hand out of Cas's.
“So, um, you're awake.”
“It would appear so, yes.”
“Um, good. I was, um, getting kind of worried. You've been out for three days or so.”
This probably should have been more alarming to Cas, but the fact that he was awake, and functional, was generally gratifying, it didn't really matter to him how long it had taken. What was more upsetting was the look of concern and nervousness etched into Dean's features.
“So, um, you human now?”
“Yes, my grace has been thoroughly expelled.”
“Are you..are you okay?”
It was an interesting question. Was he okay? Well, he still had regrets, but overall, he felt better than he had in quite a long time. Humanity was..not as bad as it had been before. Maybe because this time, he wasn't stripped of his grace, he had used it of his own volition. In fact, he was fantastic.
“I'm doing quite well, actually.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
This was strange. Dean didn't show any signs of relief despite Cas's reassurances, and he didn't seem angry by what Cas had done. It was almost as if Dean was afraid that he could break at any minute. He couldn't particularly blame him, after all, a few weeks ago that had been true. Now was different.
“Dean, are you certain that you're all right?”
“What? Um, yeah Cas, I'm fine, just..concerned.”
“I assure you that there is no need to be.”
The shift in Dean's behaviour was instant. He was angry and frantic, but that was far preferable to the pitying look that Dean had been displaying earlier.
“No need?! No need, Cas, really? You're going to tell me that there's no need to worry when you've been gone for weeks and now you're human and you've told me that you've considered suicide and you were gonna die without even fucking bothering to ask for our help and you fucking think that you're not necessary despite how many times I tell you I need you and god dammit Cas I mmph?”
Dean's words were cut off by lips tasting his own. Somewhere in his rant Cas had managed to wrap his hands around Dean's wrists and pull him into a soft kiss, smiling all the while, if only to shut the hunter up. He hardly needed a reminder of recent events, and honestly sucking face with Dean seemed like a good way to avoid that. He was going to pull away quickly, but Dean's lips suddenly went from being unresponsive to working rather pleasantly against his own.
It felt like they were suspended in the moment. They could have stayed like that for a millennia or more, not wanting anything to change, just hands and lips and tongues working with each other perfectly. Of course, the moment was broken by the sound of a throat clearing.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Sam. Dean immediately pulled back with a rather prominent blush spreading on his features, not quite able to make eye contact with his younger brother.
Face completely blank, Cas looked up at him and simply stated, “Hello Sam.”
Sam's eyebrows were approaching his hairline, but he still managed to stammer out, “Um, hey, Cas. Looks like you're finally awake. I was just wondering, I mean, if you and Dean aren't, um, busy, a tour of the bunker might be in order.”
“I would like that, yes.”
The shocked expression on Sam's face was quickly replaced with a smirk, because, honestly, this whole thing with Cas had taken way too long.
“So, Dean, what do you say? Want to show your angel around?”
Dean shot a glare at Sam and opened his mouth to protest with something along the lines of “he's not my angel,” but realised the glaring inaccuracy of this statement and remembered that he actually had been meaning to show Cas around. No way he was going to let Sam get away with that smirk though, not without at least a scarring mental image. So, with the most suggestive grin he could muster, he told Sam, “Yeah, I think I will do that, and then I'll take him right back to here for some real fun.”
Sam was disappointingly unfazed by his feigned cockiness and just responded with a bitchface and a “Yeah, sure, Dean. Have fun with that,” before promptly heading out of the room.
Of course, because his stupid little brother knew him too well and could just tell that he was actually kind of freaking out about this whole him and Cas thing, so yeah, his confidence was completely feigned. With a bit of a sigh, he turned back towards the angel who was giving him and utterly blank expression, and asked him, “So, feathers, you're gonna be staying for awhile, how about the grand tour?”
Castiel's face became more hopeful and light in an almost imperceptible way, “You're allowing me to stay?”
“Of course. I mean, if you want to. I mean, I'd really like it if you didn't leave again, and, um.”
“That would be preferred.”
Dean gave the angel a small smile, feeling more relieved that he had expected and just said, “Awesome.”
Dean began to stand up and motioned for Cas to do the same thing as him, for the tour was about to begin. Just as they exited his room, Dean turned around to look at him once more, bringing Cas to a sudden stop.
“Hey Cas?”
“Yes, Dean?”
“Welcome home.”