Fic: Supernatural: Dean/Future Cas: The Long Road Back: (27/28)
special thank you to my beta weslyn, who as always, helped me to make this chapter as good as it can be.
Title: The Long Road Back
Author: nicole9514
Rating: R
Chapters: 27/28
Warnings: gore,language,violence, drug use, slash
Spoilers: only up to 5 X 4 (but you'll see me draw from information we found out later)
Characters/Pairings: focus on Dean/Future Cas but also Risa, Chuck, OC's, LuciferSam, and future Dean.
Disclaimer: Supernatural is not mine and I don't own anything but a few OC's and the errors.
Summary: AU 5 X 04 The End fic. In many ways this will be a fix it story (but not in all ways). Dean stops his future self from sending Cas and the others into a trap and Zachariah seems to be missing in action. Dean has to figure out where to go from here.
A/N: This fic has been consuming my brain in a good way. I really wanted to play around in this world, i love apocalyptic type settings, and i thought it would be a good way to keep myself busy during the hiatus. This story is going to have action,violence, and some death but the focus of this fic will be a slowly evolving love story in the middle of a world gone to hell between a certain hunter and a certain fallen angel. If you have a problem with that, don't read it.
Word count: 6,285 (72,245 total)
Chapter One Chapter Eight Chapter 15 Chapter 22
Chapter Two Chapter Nine Chapter 16 Chapter 23
Chapter Three Chapter Ten Chapter 17 Chapter 24
Chapter Four Chapter Eleven Chapter 18 Chapter 25
Chapter Five Chapter Twelve Chapter 19 Chapter 26
Chapter Six Chapter Thirteen Chapter 20
Chapter Seven Chapter Fourteen Chapter 21
Dean stopped a few feet from the bed; Sam’s chest was rising and falling. “Sam?”
Sam coughed.
Dean’s heart almost stopped.
He heard footsteps, and felt Cas come up behind him. Another softer set let him know Molly had followed as well.
“Dean?” With that one word Dean felt the world had finally completely righted itself. Sam’s voice was hoarse, and uncertain, but it was him. Not the Devil using his vocal chords.
It was Sam, and he wasn’t a drooling mess. He was actually speaking. Dean knew this was weird and shouldn’t be possible, but the emotions rolling through him made it difficult to care about the why’s and how’s at that exact moment. He and Cas could tackle that mystery later.
He wanted to cross the remaining distance between himself and his brother, but his feet were frozen to the floor. This felt surreal; impossible that Sam was okay. He was terrified he was going to wake up and find himself sitting in that uncomfortable wooden chair again. Afraid he’d dozed off while watching over Sam.
Sam rubbed at his head, then sat up on his elbows, eyes moving all around the room. His expression swam between confusion and wariness. He squinted at them, his eyes focusing momentarily on Cas. “Didn’t you used to wear a trench coat?” Sam blurted at Cas, his eyebrows crawling up his forehead, doing an incredibly good impression of the phrase ‘dazed and confused.’
Dean and Cas exchanged pointed glances. Maybe Sam wasn’t as fine as he’d first appeared.
“Do you know who he is, Sam?” Dean managed to force out around the baseball-sized lump that had formed in his throat.
Sam’s forehead scrunched together, and he bit his bottom lip, his eyes going distant, then they widened. “Castiel,” he seemed to be testing the word.
Dean sighed mentally; that was something at least.
“That‘s right.” Cas took a step closer to the bed. “I’m your friend.” Cas’s voice had the barest hitch to it, Dean knew Sam wouldn’t notice , but Cas was close to tears.
Sam blinked, then nodded. “I’m sorry, Cas, I do know you - things are a just a bit jumbled…fuzzy.”
Cas nodded, his eyes understanding.
Sam opened his mouth closed it, then his eyes started darting around, his body tensing. He looked like an animal tossed out of a car in the middle of nowhere, lost and panicked.
“Sammy,” Dean kept his tone soothing, and took a step closer and Sam stiffened, his gaze and shoulders wary. Dean kept his face calm, but inside it felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He knew that look; Sam didn’t trust him.
“I remember going to bed alone in my motel room,” Sam said, his breathing becoming more rapid. “And you,” he pointed at Dean, with an unsteady finger, “You haven’t spoken to me in years.” His voice shook and rose, then twisted into a semi-hysterical laugh that had Dean cringing inside. “This is a dream isn’t it? Well fuck you Lucifer and get the hell out of my head!”
He heard Cas inhale, Dean swallowed.
Crap.
Sam started to rise, his skin was flushed, his chest heaving.
Dean held his hands up and took a step back. “Sam - you need to trust me right now - this isn’t a trick. A lot has happened,” he pleaded, “a lot you don’t understand. But it’s me, Sammy.”
Sam looked torn, desperate to believe him, but terrified it was a lie.
Dean glanced at Cas - who like always, saved them.
“Sam,” Cas’s voice was level, his tone reasonable. “If this was Lucifer playing with you, do you really think he’d make things so obvious? If he wanted to make you believe his dream world was reality, would he make it so different from what you knew?” Cas gestured at Dean, then at himself. “Would he make us so different?”
Sam blinked - tried to take a deep breath, but seemed to be having trouble.
Cas tilted his head. “Just think about it Sam.” His tone was kind, sincere, and didn’t hold a trace of impatience. “He would never create a scenario that you would so easily suspect. He would make it as close to reality as possible to cause you more suffering.” Cas stepped closer, his hands beseeching. “Dean is telling you the truth. We are real. This is real.”
Cas’s logic seemed to be working. Sam had lowered himself back down onto the bed, but his breathing was still rapid, his hands shaking.
“It’s okay, Sam.” Dean fought the urge to race forward and hug him - he had a feeling it wouldn’t go over well at the moment.
Sam looked at him, his eyes less suspicious, but still guarded.
Dean tried again to reach out, knowing he had to do it with words, and hoping he wouldn’t fail at it. Thank God for all of the practice he’d gotten on Cas. “You‘re safe, Sam. You‘re okay, I‘m okay, and Cas is okay.” He deliberately didn’t mention Bobby. That was not a detail that Sam needed weighing on him right now. “We’re at a place called Camp Chitaqua. It’s in South Dakota. Things are a bit different lifestyle wise - but me and Cas, we’ve got your back on that. We are going to walk you through everything.”
“You aren’t alone, Sam.” Cas added, his earnest voice rang with determination.
Sam’s eyes got too bright, and Dean took a chance, slowly closing the distance between them, letting his hand rest on Sam’s shoulder. His brother tensed, but didn’t pull away. “Take a few minutes to clear your head.”
Dean waved Molly over, Sam’s breathing was still off, too rapid, and Dean swore he could see his carotid pulse trying to beat its way outside of his skin. He knew a panic attack when he saw one.
“Sam. This is Molly,” Dean gestured towards their nurse. She smiled warmly, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
“Hey,” Sam managed, his voice strained. “Sorry - have we met before?”
“No. We’ve never officially met, but I was here when you woke up.”
“You mind if Molly gives you a quick examination?” Dean added, hoping she could help Sam relax.
Sam nodded numbly, Dean felt a rock form in his stomach. He was going to have to take this slow and easy. Too much on Sam’s fragile psyche wasn’t going to help his brother. There were things he didn’t need to know right at this moment. Time traveling brothers were going to be left for another day.
Sam nodded once.
Dean squeezed his shoulder more tightly. “You’re going to be fine.”
Sam licked his lips, doubt flickering across his tense features, but he didn‘t argue.
Dean stood and watched while Molly did her thing. Speaking in soft, soothing tones, she had Sam take a drink of water while she checked his pulse.
Cas walked over to him, and whispered, “I should leave, we can talk about things later. I know you want to be alone with him right now. I’ll leave you two to talk.”
There was no resentment in his face or tone; Cas just always understood.
Cas turned to leave, Dean grabbed his wrist. “Thanks, Feathers,” then Dean leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his lips without thinking.
There was a choking sound nearby, followed by Molly‘s quiet chuckle.
Shit. Guess that’s one less surprise I have to tell Sam about.
Dean pulled back, a sheepish grin on his face as he turned towards Sam, who’s eyes had gone owlish. “That’s new right?”
At least Sam wasn’t wallowing in his thoughts anymore.
Dean smirked. “You know me Sam, I’m always full of surprises.”
“I’ll be outside if you need me,” Cas blurted and left. Dean had a feeling he was blushing.
Molly continued to make small talk with Sam, she convinced him to take some type of anti-anxiety medication she’d had in her pocket. Dean wondered if she’d suspected this might happen if Sam woke up. Whatever her reasons for having them on hand, Dean was grateful.
When Sam seemed relatively calm she grinned at Dean. “I’ll leave you two alone to catch up.”
Molly left; the rustling of beads seemed very loud in the dead silence that followed.
Dean watched as Sam took a few deep breaths, and finally met his gaze.
Dean smiled, hoping to reassure. “Sammy, let me fill you in on some things.”
****
Castiel sat down outside on the steps. He could hear the distant sounds of people talking and laughing.
Hope had been restored, not only in the camp, but within Dean now as well.
It was marvelous.
Cas knew Sam was going to have a bumpy road full of problems, regret, and painful memories. Cas understood what it was like to live with your mistakes, and so did Dean. He had no doubt now that Sam was awake, coherent, and talking, that things would work themselves out eventually.
Dean wouldn’t let his brother fall apart, and Cas would be there to help with whatever he could.
He closed his eyes, and turned his face towards the sun. He bathed in the glow that mirrored the swell of his heart.
The devil was gone, Sam was awake, and Dean, Dean was his. There were still moments when that didn’t feel real. His life had changed so much in the past month.
He felt different.
He felt alive.
He still had to battle with his past decisions on a daily basis. Having a bit of his former life still flowing through his veins might have helped lessen his symptoms, but it did nothing for the cravings.
Even right now, when he was so full of joy it was hard to breathe, a little voice still whispered for him to go celebrate by popping a few pills. It’d only be just that one time. But it was faint, and it wasn’t the loudest voice in his head. Not anymore.
When you hated yourself it was so easy to bury yourself in drugs. It made everything better. Only it never had. When you came down off your high, you still hated yourself. So you kept going back to the drugs.
Now he had somewhere else to go with his fears, pain, and doubt.
He focused on Dean’s soft, muted voice flowing towards him from the cabin. He couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was gentle and understanding.
Cas really hoped things were going well.
He couldn’t help but worry about Sam’s reaction to their new relationship. What if he didn’t approve? Cas did not want to cause a rift between Dean and his brother. They had enough to work through without him getting in the way.
And then that little voice started nagging at him again.
He had a feeling it would be a long time before it disappeared. If it ever did.
Then he heard the familiar rustling of beads.
Cas turned.
Dean saw him and his face lit up. “I was hoping you’d be out here.”
“Is Sam okay?” Cas kept his voice nonchalant, not allowing his anxiety to show.
“He’s napping, boy’s got a killer headache, but he’s dealing.”
“He’s been through a lot.” Cas replied.
“We all have,” Dean said pointedly before ducking his head back inside to check on Sam, then he walked down, and sat next to Cas. “What’s going on in that feathery little head of yours?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve got that look. The one where something is worrying you but you don’t want me to know, so you try and pretend like you’re fine for my benefit.”
Cas gaped at him.
Dean bumped him with his elbow gently. “Spill.”
“It’s nothing,” Cas smoothed a wrinkle in his pants. “I’m just being paranoid.”
“Now, Cas. You know I find your paranoia to be sexy.” Dean nudged him again. “Tell me anyway.”
Cas kept trying to get that wrinkle out. “I was just worried that our relationship change might cause problems for you with Sam.”
Dean took his hand that had developed a mind of its own and held it still. “Sam was…surprised, but I think with him struggling to remember what year it is the fact that we’re doing the nasty, just wasn’t front page news.”
“Please tell me that “doing the nasty” is not how you phrased our relationship to your brother.”
Dean laughed. “You think I should have gone with bumping and grinding instead?”
Cas pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. That‘s so much better.”
Dean leaned in and kissed his neck, right on top of his pulse. “You’re way too easy to mess with, Cas.” His lips traced a line across Cas’s jawbone. “I told him the truth.”
Dean did not play fair. “What truth?” Cas managed.
“That I’d finally met my match.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, and his mouth twitched once then he added. “And I might have mentioned something about loving you.”
Cas’s felt himself suck in a startled breath while his fingers tightened around Dean’s. He leaned in close and whispered. “Love you, too.”
Dean nodded, his gaze straight ahead. Cas rested his chin on Dean‘s shoulder. “You do realize if you keep saying things like that, you really are going to lose your macho image.”
Dean relaxed and turned to grin at Cas. “That’ll never happen. I built up way too many man points over the years.” Dean said while stretching his legs out in front of him. “It gives me wiggle room to say pansy stuff like that every now and then.”
“You are making progress.” Cas groaned.
Dean scooted closer, and his expression went from playful to deadly serious in the space of a heartbeat. “How are you doing with everything else?”
Cas knew exactly what Dean meant. It was their code for have you had any more close calls with Mr. Amphetamine or Mrs. Valium yet today? “I’m doing okay,” he looked down at the ground, “but I still want it every damn day, Dean.”
“When that happens, tell me.”
Cas swallowed. “It happened a few minutes ago,” he admitted.
Dean seemed to get it. “When you were worried about me and Sam.”
“It gets harder when I’m stressed or upset, but that‘s not the only time it happens.”
Dean nodded. “I’ve got your back. I’ll be here every day to remind you that I’ll kick your ass if you so much as even smell one of those pills.”
“Thanks,” Cas couldn’t help but smile. Dean really was a closet mother hen.
“Nothing to thank me for. You’d do it for me.”
“Dean. Did you tell Sam about m-”
“No.” Dean interrupted. “I wouldn’t do that. If you want to tell him, you can. It’s your decision.”
Cas nodded. “I’m sure he’ll find out one way or another, so I might as well tell him. This isn’t exactly a big city, word gets around.”
“You want to do it together?”
“Yes, but let‘s wait until Sam has had a moment to adjust to everything else, first.”
Dean nodded.
“What all did you tell him?” Cas kept his voice low.
“Not much else. I figure it’s best to let him remember it gradually.”
“Good idea.”
“I left out everything about me being from the past,” Dean continued. “He doesn’t remember anything when it comes to the devil being a houseguest, but he was able to remember that the hotel he mentioned was in Detroit, and that the year was 2010. ”
Cas nodded, he wasn’t surprised. “It seems he doesn’t remember anything after he said yes.” Cas supplied. “That’s probably why he’s so…lucid.”
“Not that I’m complaining, but how is that possible?”
“I wish I knew. Maybe it’s his brain’s way of protecting him.” Cas glanced down, then back up, his blue eyes intense. “Or someone could have intervened.”
Dean growled. “More of your God crap again?”
Cas couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Yep. More of my God crap.”
Dean puffed out some air, then whispered, “He’s taking things better than I expected.”
Cas felt doubt nibble at his brain. “For now, but Dean just remember, he’s been through a lot. He could be putting on a brave face.” Cas leaned in, hoping his next words wouldn‘t be taken badly. “He said yes Dean. He may not remember doing it, but he knows. That will eat at him.”
Dean swallowed. “I know. We‘ll just have to be there when it does.”
Cas nodded, feeling proud of the man he had fallen in love with. “Yes, we will.”
*****
Dean woke up to the sound of screaming.
He shot up, throwing his covers off, Cas was doing the same.
He grabbed a flashlight, flipped it on, and raced out of their bedroom with Cas on his heels.
Sam was sitting up on the bed, sweat making his hair stick to his face, his eyes too wide, his pupils huge.
“Sam, what’s wrong?” Dean hovered near him.
Sam blinked, rubbed at his chest.
“Sam,” Dean repeated, his voice firm, hoping to get Sam to focus.
His brother shook his head. “Sorry, nightmare.”
Dean glanced at Cas, who’s brow was furrowed. He mouthed one word to Dean. Memory.
Dean nodded, and knelt down on the floor as Cas went back to the bedroom, knowing Sam would be more likely to talk if it was just the two of them.
“Tell me about it?”
Sam shook his head. “It’s not important man. I‘m fine. Just go back to bed.”
Dean realized at that moment how frustrating he must be when he spouted shit like that. Dean took a deep breath. “I think we both know that’s not true; you remembered something, didn’t you?”
Sam’s face turned angry for split second, then their eyes locked, and whatever he saw in Dean’s face, melted the anger away, and he looked like a little boy again. Big brown eyes, lost expression, fear.
“I saw death, Dean. Images. Flashes of mangled bodies, and I could feel the pleasure he took at seeing humans so close to extinction.” Sam buried his face in his hands. “And I saw you and Cas, being flung through the air. I almost killed you both.”
Dean sucked in a breath, and steeled himself. He’d known this moment had to come sooner or later. He’d just hoped Sam would have had more time to adjust before he was hit over the head with this bullshit.
Dean grabbed his shoulders. “You didn’t almost kill us. You didn’t do anything to hurt anyone. That was Lucifer - not you.”
Something snapped in Sam at that moment, and Dean knew it was time for him to step up, and help him start to put himself back together. “But I said yes Dean. I fucking said yes.” He thumped his hand on his chest. “That was my decision. I caused all this.”
“No Sam; Lucifer did.”
Sam shook his head violently back and forth.
“Yes.” Dean made his voice strong, commanding. “If you blame yourself you’ll end up consumed by it - trust me, I know.”
Sam’s eyes shot up, and he shook harder. “Be better than me, Sammy; no one blames you. Not me, not Cas. We‘ve all fucked up royally in our lives. No one’s throwing stones.”
Dean wrapped his arms around Sam, and Sam didn‘t resist, instead crumpled against him. “Listen to me. If you blame anyone, you blame me. If I hadn’t pushed you away, if I’d stepped up sooner and been there, none of this would have happened, do you fucking hear me?”
Sam was crying, Dean could feel moisture on his shoulder, seeping through his t-shirt.
“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Sam half sobbed, half laughed into his shoulder.
Dean chuckled through the lump in his throat. “Cas turned me into a chick,” he said loudly.
“I heard that,” Cas’s warm voice called from the bedroom dispelling a lot of tension in the room.
“Remind me to thank him,” Sam fell silent for a moment then whispered, “I don’t blame you,” as his brother clung to him like a drowning victim fighting for air.
“Then you can’t blame yourself, either.”
Sam didn’t protest, he didn’t agree either, but it was a start.
Between him and Cas they would get him through this.
*****
Cas sat up the morning after Sam’s nightmare and took a deep breath, his feet dangling over the side of the bed. Dean had chosen to sleep in the chair next to Sam’s bed, Cas didn’t blame him.
Cas hadn’t slept much that night; every time he’d start to close his eyes he’d hear Sam moan, or cry out and it was like bucket of ice water had been shot into his veins, chilling him to the bone.
He’d forced himself not to go running out there. Dean knew he was here if he needed him; Cas didn’t want to intrude on their much needed healing process.
Cas got up, keeping his footsteps soft, then pulled on an old pair of jeans that had a hole in one knee, and padded to the living area.
Dean’s head was lolled back at a very uncomfortable looking angle, his jaw was slack, and he snored lightly. He looked wiped.
Sam was sitting up, staring off into space, he jumped a little when Cas quietly cleared his throat. His face broke out in a tired smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Cas smiled back anyway and gestured towards his mouth, making a chewing gesture.
Sam considered the silent question about food, then nodded, slid out of bed and followed Cas into the kitchen. Neither said anything as Cas pulled out some Spam, honey, and water and set it on the small wooden table.
Cas gestured towards it, and Sam sat down, not quite meeting Cas’s eyes.
Cas sat down and opened the jar of honey. “I know it’s not incredibly appetizing but…” he trailed off and shrugged. “It’s better than nothing.”
“It looks great. I’m actually starving.”
It wasn’t surprising. He probably hadn’t eaten in years. Cas offered him the jar and one of their few spoons.
Sam went for the Spam first, grinning. “It figures there would still be Spam.”
“It grows on you,” Cas replied, taking a drink of water.
They ate in silence for awhile; Cas might not know Sam as well as Dean, but he knew Sam was trying to work up the nerve to tell him something. He kept opening his mouth, would meet Cas’s gaze, then shove food in instead of saying whatever was on his mind.
Finally, after about ten false starts Sam whispered. “Sorry if I kept you up,” his face was shadowed with shame.
Cas shook his head, and rested his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Sam.” Cas said, his tone full of meaning.
They locked gazes, he could see Sam fighting the urge to protest, but he swallowed them back. “Thanks, Cas.”
“Have your memories cleared up some?” Cas asked, hoping he wasn’t pushing too much, or over-stepping his bounds.
Sam actually smiled, and Cas knew he hadn’t made a mistake. “I remember you very well if that’s what you’re asking.”
Cas felt his face stretch into a broad grin. “That’s reassuring.”
“Although you aren’t exactly like I remember,” Sam teased.
Cas tilted his head. “It’s the new clothes, isn’t it?”
“Among other things,” Sam laughed softly, his eyes fond.
The fact that he could still laugh warmed Castiel’s heart.
“A lot has happened.” Cas stated, his tone warm.
“I gathered that. Someday you’re going to have to fill me in,” Sam added.
“I will, that’s a promise.”
“Good.”
They ate a little more, then Sam started sharing again, surprising Cas with his openness.
“There’s a lot that’s muddled, though,” Sam became contemplative. “Things are clearer than yesterday - the past stuff anyway - not everything though. And I still don’t remember hardly anything after Detroit,” he admitted.
“Sam,” Cas leaned forward, “that might be a good thing. Don’t push yourself; let things come naturally, when you’re ready for them.”
Sam sighed. “Yeah. Easier said than done.”
“I know.”
They finished eating, and Cas started to clear the table, Sam stood and helped. Cas let him, he knew how important it was to feel useful, even if it was something small.
He showed him where the food went, Sam bent down, and placed the honey on its shelf. Cas was cleaning off their utensils when he heard a quiet gasp.
He spun, Sam was on his knees, holding his head.
Cas knelt down, gripped his shoulders. “Sam. What’s wrong?”
“Hang…on.”
Cas felt his heart rocket in his chest, he almost ran for Dean, but Sam was gripping his arms so tightly there would probably be bruises, so he stayed. It was probably less than a minute later that Sam opened his eyes, but it felt like days.
Pain and shame were written all over his face.
Please father, help us to help him.
“It’s okay Sam, whatever it was, it’s okay. You’re safe.” Cas found himself murmuring, his hands squeezing Sam’s now sweat tinged t-shirt.
Sam shook his head and stood, wobbling a little, but Cas had risen with him. He steadied his friend, his eyes searching his face.
“I’ll get Dean.”
Sam gripped his wrist, his tone desperate. “Let him sleep. There’s nothing he can do.”
Cas knew Dean would not want to be kept out of the loop, but Sam was practically begging him, so Cas nodded reluctantly and kept quiet.
“So is there something else I can help with?” he tried to keep his face neutral, but Cas could see his unease sneaking out through the facade.
Cas understood Sam’s need to keep busy. He plucked at his brain and came up with something tedious that would keep Sam occupied for a while.
“Laundry,” Cas blurted. “We have fallen behind on it,” he explained, hoping it didn’t sound too forced.
Sam seemed surprised, but grateful. “Sure,” his eyes swept over their home. “I’m guessing there’s not a washer and dryer in this place?”
Cas smiled. “Not exactly, but I’ll show you what to do.”
They gathered up the pile of clothes. While Sam scooped a pair of Dean’s dirty socks Cas allowed himself to give him a once over. He noted the sweat on his skin, the still too rapid breathing, and the slightly jerky movements.
Sam was far from fine, but he was awake, he was talking, and he was Sam. That was all that mattered, this would pass in time. Cas told himself that, as he glanced back at Dean who still slept.
He was catching up on days without any real rest.
Sam shadowed Cas out the back, brandishing an armful of clothing and blankets. Cas figured Sam could wash it all, whether it needed it or not. If it would help him get through this, Sam could scrub their cabin from top to bottom for all he cared.
****
2 days later
Dean watched Sam as he fiddled with a needle and thread. His brother was repairing a hole in Cas’s favorite pair of jeans, his head bent while he patiently threaded the needle. He enjoyed sewing, said it kept his brain focused, that it calmed him.
Dean knew Sam needed to keep busy. He’d virtually been shoving anything and everything at him to organize and clean he could find over the past few days.
Sam was fragile as all hell, he still had nightmares every night, and sometimes during the day. Although he had to give it to his brother, he was handling it as well as anyone could expect.
Dean still hadn’t told him about him being from the past, he wanted to but Sam had enough on his plate dealing with memories of Satan plowing through humanity.
He still only got flashes, he’d described it as watching fragments of a film. You saw images, but not enough to truly understand what was going on.
Until Sam could sleep for more than an hour without waking up screaming, Dean wasn’t letting him out of his sight - no matter how much it pissed Sam off.
Cas thought it was a good idea if Sam got some company besides them, to ease him into being around other people. Sam had agreed, so tonight Molly and Chuck were both coming over for dinner and poker.
Dean wasn’t happy about it. He thought this was too soon, but Sam had been around Molly already, and he knew Chuck. He just hoped things went smoothly.
“I’m not going to freak out, Dean.” Sam’s tone was more than a little annoyed as Dean hovered a few feet away.
“Did I say you were?” he snapped.
“No, but you’re thinking it.”
Dean growled.
Cas stepped in between them. “They’ll be here any minute, why don’t you set the table,” Cas’s voice was soft, but firm as he gave Dean one of his stop annoying your brother looks.
Dean grumbled, but walked over to the cabinet and started pulling out a few dishes.
He could feel Sam smirking from his chair.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Sam’s voice was pure innocence.
Dean repressed the urge go back over there and slap the smirk Sam was probably wearing right off his face. Sam’s brain was jumbled enough without him making it worse.
The smell of actual meat wafted over and Dean felt his mouth water and his annoyance melt away.
Mark and Risa had gotten lucky and spotted a deer in the area. Mark was an expert marksman with a bow and arrow. Silent and deadly.
Molly had cooked it at her place, and had brought their share over to eat tonight.
Dean’s stomach rumbled and he quickly finished setting the table.
“Hey guys,” Molly’s warm voice reached his ears, and Dean smiled at her, but her eyes were on Sam.
Dean noticed his brothers face lighten in a way he hadn’t seen in a long time. “Hey, Molly.”
She smiled back, her eyes warm.
Molly had been monitoring Sam daily. Apparently they’d become fast friends.
The nurse, followed by Chuck carrying a plate of venison, headed to the table. Dean caught Sam’s eye, it was his turn to smirk.
*****
1 week later
Dean smiled as he watched his brother sleeping peacefully. It had been five hours and not a peep.
The memories hadn’t been coming as often or as intense. Sam had taken to meditating; Cas had helped him with techniques.
Dean had given them hell about it, but he had to admit, it was helping.
That and the St. John‘s Wort Molly had prescribed. It was some herbal crap that she said might help, it seemed she’d been right.
Sam wasn’t perfect. He’d jump for no reason, go still in the middle of conversations, but everything considered he was doing awesome.
Dean stood up, fought against his protective instinct to hover, and forced himself to his bedroom. Cas was snuggled deep into the covers, his face half submerged. His soft breathing and mussed hair made Dean grin.
He’d been sleeping in that chair for too many nights. He pulled off his shoes and shirt and crawled into bed, placing his hand protectively over Cas’s hip.
Cas murmured, but didn’t completely wake, as he burrowed his face against Dean’s chest, and sighed contentedly.
Dean kissed his hair, and closed his eyes, feeling that he really was home.
****
2 weeks later
“You’re from where?” The little dickhead was actually laughing.
“The past, Sam.” Dean stood up and raised his arms over his head. “I don’t see why you find this so funny!”
“I’m sorry, just after everything I’ve remembered and you’ve told me about the world - I didn’t think it could get any weirder.” Sam flopped down on the bed. “I’ve seen some strange shit, but damn, this takes the cake.”
‘I’m glad you find my bumble fuck of a life so freaking hilarious.”
“Dean, come on - you have to admit the whole thing sounds like the plot of bad sci-fi movie.”
Dean snorted, and tried not to laugh, but seeing Sam smiling so naturally, it was incredible.
“Screw you,” he mumbled, half-heartedly.
Sam just grinned, then his face sobered. “But if you’re from the past, what about the other you? I mean wouldn’t he have been here?”
Dean felt queasy, but he needed to be honest. “Yeah, he was here. He was a mess. He died.”
Sam wasn’t laughing now. “Wow. I don’t even know how to feel about that.”
“Welcome to my world.” Dean huffed.
Sam rivaled Cas when it came to perceptiveness. “He’s what made you change - why you stopped hating me for what I did.”’
“Jesus, Sam. I never hated you. I was just upset. ” Dean sat down on the edge of the bed. “But yeah, he’s part of it. Seeing what I could become…but it wasn’t just him.”
“Cas.” Sam breathed, his eyes weren’t teasing, they were happy.
“Yeah,” Dean rubbed at the back of his neck.
“For what it’s worth - I approve.” Sam said quietly.
Dean leaned forward. “Aww Sammy, you giving us your blessing?” he made his tone too high, his eyes too wide.
Sam groaned. “You’re such an ass.”
****
Sam was outside doing laundry, and succeeding more so than Dean ever had. Cas watched him from the window, his palms were sweaty, his throat felt parched. He was closer to Sam than he had ever been, hours spent meditating, and just talking. He felt like he’d gained a brother, he didn’t want to lose him, but he couldn’t keep hiding behind the Sam needs time excuse, because honestly Sam was doing rather well.
Molly stepped into view and offered her assistance. Sam ducked his head slightly and handed her a shirt. She’d been coming to visit Sam almost daily the past few days. Cas hoped something would come from their friendship; he adored them both and liked the match. He wanted them to find happiness.
“What’s on your mind?” Dean came up behind him, arms wrapping around his waist.
Cas rested his hands over Dean’s, and drew a deep breath. “I want to tell him tonight.”
Dean understood. “You want me there?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’ll be there.”
Cas tried not to be terrified of Sam’s reaction to his past. He didn’t think he would judge him, but Sam had this idea of him as an angel, all of his memories except those from the past few weeks were of that. How would he react when he found out Castiel was not at all what he thought he was - instead of a being of grace, he was a washed up drug addict, who’d almost given up on life until Dean had come along.
“It’ll be fine feathers,” Dean whispered against his ear.
Cas breathed in his freshly washed scent and tried to believe him.
*****
Later that night over dinner Dean sat in quiet support while Cas told Sam about his drug addiction. Sam had listened patiently, never interrupting. He was good at things like that.
When Cas finished speaking Sam was quiet for a moment, his expression contemplative.
“You know,” Sam leaned forward, his face soft, “for the past few weeks you’ve been basically helping to put me back together piece by piece. Listening to me bitch, putting up with my poor attempts at meditation, never complaining about anything, and all the while you’ve been keeping yourself clean and sober.”
Sam had a expression of awe that made him look years younger. “You are amazing, Cas. You have nothing to feel ashamed of - if anything you have more grace than any angel could ever hope to possess.”
Cas swallowed, his eyes shimmering with emotion. “Thank you, Sam.”
Sam reached out, squeezed his shoulder. “I know how hard it is - not getting another fix.”
Cas nodded, his gaze intense.
“Just know that I get it man. I was-am a demon blood junkie. The way it made me feel, I still miss it.”
Cas nodded again. “Me too.”
Sam let his arm drop, but his gaze never wavered from Cas. “I promise it does get easier.”
Cas shuddered, then closed his eyes for several moments.
“If there’s anything I can ever do to help, please don’t hesitate.”
Cas opened his eyes.
“It would be nice to help you for a change,” Sam smiled, his tone sincere and affectionate.
“You already have.” Cas paused. “It helps when you have people around you that care and won‘t stop fighting for you.” Cas added pointedly.
“I’ll drink to that,” Dean spoke through the tightness in his throat, holding up his water.
Sam gave a weak smile and met both of their supportive gazes. “Yes it does,” he agreed, his expression earnest and grateful.
They ate in silence for awhile.
“So,” Sam grinned. “I’ve been meaning to tell you Cas - you and Dean.” He gestured between them.
Cas nodded, his expression going worried again. Dean knew better, and snarled. “Sam.”
Sam ignored him.
“It makes sense. There’s no woman alive that could put up with his shit.”
“Hey,” Dean yelled, putting as much indignation as he could into his tone.
“He is quite a handful.” Cas added playfully, his body visibly relaxing.
Dean glared at him, but he couldn’t stop his lips from twitching.
“He’s lucky. I just feel sorry for you.” Sam added while Dean tried not to laugh.
Dean looked between them both as they cracked up at his expense.
Yep. He was definitely home.
Final Chapter
Feel free to friend this journal for the insanity :)
Comments are always loved and adored, how else will I know if anyone is still reading/enjoying this :)
Title: The Long Road Back
Author: nicole9514
Rating: R
Chapters: 27/28
Warnings: gore,language,violence, drug use, slash
Spoilers: only up to 5 X 4 (but you'll see me draw from information we found out later)
Characters/Pairings: focus on Dean/Future Cas but also Risa, Chuck, OC's, LuciferSam, and future Dean.
Disclaimer: Supernatural is not mine and I don't own anything but a few OC's and the errors.
Summary: AU 5 X 04 The End fic. In many ways this will be a fix it story (but not in all ways). Dean stops his future self from sending Cas and the others into a trap and Zachariah seems to be missing in action. Dean has to figure out where to go from here.
A/N: This fic has been consuming my brain in a good way. I really wanted to play around in this world, i love apocalyptic type settings, and i thought it would be a good way to keep myself busy during the hiatus. This story is going to have action,violence, and some death but the focus of this fic will be a slowly evolving love story in the middle of a world gone to hell between a certain hunter and a certain fallen angel. If you have a problem with that, don't read it.
Word count: 6,285 (72,245 total)
Chapter One Chapter Eight Chapter 15 Chapter 22
Chapter Two Chapter Nine Chapter 16 Chapter 23
Chapter Three Chapter Ten Chapter 17 Chapter 24
Chapter Four Chapter Eleven Chapter 18 Chapter 25
Chapter Five Chapter Twelve Chapter 19 Chapter 26
Chapter Six Chapter Thirteen Chapter 20
Chapter Seven Chapter Fourteen Chapter 21
Dean stopped a few feet from the bed; Sam’s chest was rising and falling. “Sam?”
Sam coughed.
Dean’s heart almost stopped.
He heard footsteps, and felt Cas come up behind him. Another softer set let him know Molly had followed as well.
“Dean?” With that one word Dean felt the world had finally completely righted itself. Sam’s voice was hoarse, and uncertain, but it was him. Not the Devil using his vocal chords.
It was Sam, and he wasn’t a drooling mess. He was actually speaking. Dean knew this was weird and shouldn’t be possible, but the emotions rolling through him made it difficult to care about the why’s and how’s at that exact moment. He and Cas could tackle that mystery later.
He wanted to cross the remaining distance between himself and his brother, but his feet were frozen to the floor. This felt surreal; impossible that Sam was okay. He was terrified he was going to wake up and find himself sitting in that uncomfortable wooden chair again. Afraid he’d dozed off while watching over Sam.
Sam rubbed at his head, then sat up on his elbows, eyes moving all around the room. His expression swam between confusion and wariness. He squinted at them, his eyes focusing momentarily on Cas. “Didn’t you used to wear a trench coat?” Sam blurted at Cas, his eyebrows crawling up his forehead, doing an incredibly good impression of the phrase ‘dazed and confused.’
Dean and Cas exchanged pointed glances. Maybe Sam wasn’t as fine as he’d first appeared.
“Do you know who he is, Sam?” Dean managed to force out around the baseball-sized lump that had formed in his throat.
Sam’s forehead scrunched together, and he bit his bottom lip, his eyes going distant, then they widened. “Castiel,” he seemed to be testing the word.
Dean sighed mentally; that was something at least.
“That‘s right.” Cas took a step closer to the bed. “I’m your friend.” Cas’s voice had the barest hitch to it, Dean knew Sam wouldn’t notice , but Cas was close to tears.
Sam blinked, then nodded. “I’m sorry, Cas, I do know you - things are a just a bit jumbled…fuzzy.”
Cas nodded, his eyes understanding.
Sam opened his mouth closed it, then his eyes started darting around, his body tensing. He looked like an animal tossed out of a car in the middle of nowhere, lost and panicked.
“Sammy,” Dean kept his tone soothing, and took a step closer and Sam stiffened, his gaze and shoulders wary. Dean kept his face calm, but inside it felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He knew that look; Sam didn’t trust him.
“I remember going to bed alone in my motel room,” Sam said, his breathing becoming more rapid. “And you,” he pointed at Dean, with an unsteady finger, “You haven’t spoken to me in years.” His voice shook and rose, then twisted into a semi-hysterical laugh that had Dean cringing inside. “This is a dream isn’t it? Well fuck you Lucifer and get the hell out of my head!”
He heard Cas inhale, Dean swallowed.
Crap.
Sam started to rise, his skin was flushed, his chest heaving.
Dean held his hands up and took a step back. “Sam - you need to trust me right now - this isn’t a trick. A lot has happened,” he pleaded, “a lot you don’t understand. But it’s me, Sammy.”
Sam looked torn, desperate to believe him, but terrified it was a lie.
Dean glanced at Cas - who like always, saved them.
“Sam,” Cas’s voice was level, his tone reasonable. “If this was Lucifer playing with you, do you really think he’d make things so obvious? If he wanted to make you believe his dream world was reality, would he make it so different from what you knew?” Cas gestured at Dean, then at himself. “Would he make us so different?”
Sam blinked - tried to take a deep breath, but seemed to be having trouble.
Cas tilted his head. “Just think about it Sam.” His tone was kind, sincere, and didn’t hold a trace of impatience. “He would never create a scenario that you would so easily suspect. He would make it as close to reality as possible to cause you more suffering.” Cas stepped closer, his hands beseeching. “Dean is telling you the truth. We are real. This is real.”
Cas’s logic seemed to be working. Sam had lowered himself back down onto the bed, but his breathing was still rapid, his hands shaking.
“It’s okay, Sam.” Dean fought the urge to race forward and hug him - he had a feeling it wouldn’t go over well at the moment.
Sam looked at him, his eyes less suspicious, but still guarded.
Dean tried again to reach out, knowing he had to do it with words, and hoping he wouldn’t fail at it. Thank God for all of the practice he’d gotten on Cas. “You‘re safe, Sam. You‘re okay, I‘m okay, and Cas is okay.” He deliberately didn’t mention Bobby. That was not a detail that Sam needed weighing on him right now. “We’re at a place called Camp Chitaqua. It’s in South Dakota. Things are a bit different lifestyle wise - but me and Cas, we’ve got your back on that. We are going to walk you through everything.”
“You aren’t alone, Sam.” Cas added, his earnest voice rang with determination.
Sam’s eyes got too bright, and Dean took a chance, slowly closing the distance between them, letting his hand rest on Sam’s shoulder. His brother tensed, but didn’t pull away. “Take a few minutes to clear your head.”
Dean waved Molly over, Sam’s breathing was still off, too rapid, and Dean swore he could see his carotid pulse trying to beat its way outside of his skin. He knew a panic attack when he saw one.
“Sam. This is Molly,” Dean gestured towards their nurse. She smiled warmly, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
“Hey,” Sam managed, his voice strained. “Sorry - have we met before?”
“No. We’ve never officially met, but I was here when you woke up.”
“You mind if Molly gives you a quick examination?” Dean added, hoping she could help Sam relax.
Sam nodded numbly, Dean felt a rock form in his stomach. He was going to have to take this slow and easy. Too much on Sam’s fragile psyche wasn’t going to help his brother. There were things he didn’t need to know right at this moment. Time traveling brothers were going to be left for another day.
Sam nodded once.
Dean squeezed his shoulder more tightly. “You’re going to be fine.”
Sam licked his lips, doubt flickering across his tense features, but he didn‘t argue.
Dean stood and watched while Molly did her thing. Speaking in soft, soothing tones, she had Sam take a drink of water while she checked his pulse.
Cas walked over to him, and whispered, “I should leave, we can talk about things later. I know you want to be alone with him right now. I’ll leave you two to talk.”
There was no resentment in his face or tone; Cas just always understood.
Cas turned to leave, Dean grabbed his wrist. “Thanks, Feathers,” then Dean leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his lips without thinking.
There was a choking sound nearby, followed by Molly‘s quiet chuckle.
Shit. Guess that’s one less surprise I have to tell Sam about.
Dean pulled back, a sheepish grin on his face as he turned towards Sam, who’s eyes had gone owlish. “That’s new right?”
At least Sam wasn’t wallowing in his thoughts anymore.
Dean smirked. “You know me Sam, I’m always full of surprises.”
“I’ll be outside if you need me,” Cas blurted and left. Dean had a feeling he was blushing.
Molly continued to make small talk with Sam, she convinced him to take some type of anti-anxiety medication she’d had in her pocket. Dean wondered if she’d suspected this might happen if Sam woke up. Whatever her reasons for having them on hand, Dean was grateful.
When Sam seemed relatively calm she grinned at Dean. “I’ll leave you two alone to catch up.”
Molly left; the rustling of beads seemed very loud in the dead silence that followed.
Dean watched as Sam took a few deep breaths, and finally met his gaze.
Dean smiled, hoping to reassure. “Sammy, let me fill you in on some things.”
****
Castiel sat down outside on the steps. He could hear the distant sounds of people talking and laughing.
Hope had been restored, not only in the camp, but within Dean now as well.
It was marvelous.
Cas knew Sam was going to have a bumpy road full of problems, regret, and painful memories. Cas understood what it was like to live with your mistakes, and so did Dean. He had no doubt now that Sam was awake, coherent, and talking, that things would work themselves out eventually.
Dean wouldn’t let his brother fall apart, and Cas would be there to help with whatever he could.
He closed his eyes, and turned his face towards the sun. He bathed in the glow that mirrored the swell of his heart.
The devil was gone, Sam was awake, and Dean, Dean was his. There were still moments when that didn’t feel real. His life had changed so much in the past month.
He felt different.
He felt alive.
He still had to battle with his past decisions on a daily basis. Having a bit of his former life still flowing through his veins might have helped lessen his symptoms, but it did nothing for the cravings.
Even right now, when he was so full of joy it was hard to breathe, a little voice still whispered for him to go celebrate by popping a few pills. It’d only be just that one time. But it was faint, and it wasn’t the loudest voice in his head. Not anymore.
When you hated yourself it was so easy to bury yourself in drugs. It made everything better. Only it never had. When you came down off your high, you still hated yourself. So you kept going back to the drugs.
Now he had somewhere else to go with his fears, pain, and doubt.
He focused on Dean’s soft, muted voice flowing towards him from the cabin. He couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was gentle and understanding.
Cas really hoped things were going well.
He couldn’t help but worry about Sam’s reaction to their new relationship. What if he didn’t approve? Cas did not want to cause a rift between Dean and his brother. They had enough to work through without him getting in the way.
And then that little voice started nagging at him again.
He had a feeling it would be a long time before it disappeared. If it ever did.
Then he heard the familiar rustling of beads.
Cas turned.
Dean saw him and his face lit up. “I was hoping you’d be out here.”
“Is Sam okay?” Cas kept his voice nonchalant, not allowing his anxiety to show.
“He’s napping, boy’s got a killer headache, but he’s dealing.”
“He’s been through a lot.” Cas replied.
“We all have,” Dean said pointedly before ducking his head back inside to check on Sam, then he walked down, and sat next to Cas. “What’s going on in that feathery little head of yours?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve got that look. The one where something is worrying you but you don’t want me to know, so you try and pretend like you’re fine for my benefit.”
Cas gaped at him.
Dean bumped him with his elbow gently. “Spill.”
“It’s nothing,” Cas smoothed a wrinkle in his pants. “I’m just being paranoid.”
“Now, Cas. You know I find your paranoia to be sexy.” Dean nudged him again. “Tell me anyway.”
Cas kept trying to get that wrinkle out. “I was just worried that our relationship change might cause problems for you with Sam.”
Dean took his hand that had developed a mind of its own and held it still. “Sam was…surprised, but I think with him struggling to remember what year it is the fact that we’re doing the nasty, just wasn’t front page news.”
“Please tell me that “doing the nasty” is not how you phrased our relationship to your brother.”
Dean laughed. “You think I should have gone with bumping and grinding instead?”
Cas pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. That‘s so much better.”
Dean leaned in and kissed his neck, right on top of his pulse. “You’re way too easy to mess with, Cas.” His lips traced a line across Cas’s jawbone. “I told him the truth.”
Dean did not play fair. “What truth?” Cas managed.
“That I’d finally met my match.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, and his mouth twitched once then he added. “And I might have mentioned something about loving you.”
Cas’s felt himself suck in a startled breath while his fingers tightened around Dean’s. He leaned in close and whispered. “Love you, too.”
Dean nodded, his gaze straight ahead. Cas rested his chin on Dean‘s shoulder. “You do realize if you keep saying things like that, you really are going to lose your macho image.”
Dean relaxed and turned to grin at Cas. “That’ll never happen. I built up way too many man points over the years.” Dean said while stretching his legs out in front of him. “It gives me wiggle room to say pansy stuff like that every now and then.”
“You are making progress.” Cas groaned.
Dean scooted closer, and his expression went from playful to deadly serious in the space of a heartbeat. “How are you doing with everything else?”
Cas knew exactly what Dean meant. It was their code for have you had any more close calls with Mr. Amphetamine or Mrs. Valium yet today? “I’m doing okay,” he looked down at the ground, “but I still want it every damn day, Dean.”
“When that happens, tell me.”
Cas swallowed. “It happened a few minutes ago,” he admitted.
Dean seemed to get it. “When you were worried about me and Sam.”
“It gets harder when I’m stressed or upset, but that‘s not the only time it happens.”
Dean nodded. “I’ve got your back. I’ll be here every day to remind you that I’ll kick your ass if you so much as even smell one of those pills.”
“Thanks,” Cas couldn’t help but smile. Dean really was a closet mother hen.
“Nothing to thank me for. You’d do it for me.”
“Dean. Did you tell Sam about m-”
“No.” Dean interrupted. “I wouldn’t do that. If you want to tell him, you can. It’s your decision.”
Cas nodded. “I’m sure he’ll find out one way or another, so I might as well tell him. This isn’t exactly a big city, word gets around.”
“You want to do it together?”
“Yes, but let‘s wait until Sam has had a moment to adjust to everything else, first.”
Dean nodded.
“What all did you tell him?” Cas kept his voice low.
“Not much else. I figure it’s best to let him remember it gradually.”
“Good idea.”
“I left out everything about me being from the past,” Dean continued. “He doesn’t remember anything when it comes to the devil being a houseguest, but he was able to remember that the hotel he mentioned was in Detroit, and that the year was 2010. ”
Cas nodded, he wasn’t surprised. “It seems he doesn’t remember anything after he said yes.” Cas supplied. “That’s probably why he’s so…lucid.”
“Not that I’m complaining, but how is that possible?”
“I wish I knew. Maybe it’s his brain’s way of protecting him.” Cas glanced down, then back up, his blue eyes intense. “Or someone could have intervened.”
Dean growled. “More of your God crap again?”
Cas couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Yep. More of my God crap.”
Dean puffed out some air, then whispered, “He’s taking things better than I expected.”
Cas felt doubt nibble at his brain. “For now, but Dean just remember, he’s been through a lot. He could be putting on a brave face.” Cas leaned in, hoping his next words wouldn‘t be taken badly. “He said yes Dean. He may not remember doing it, but he knows. That will eat at him.”
Dean swallowed. “I know. We‘ll just have to be there when it does.”
Cas nodded, feeling proud of the man he had fallen in love with. “Yes, we will.”
*****
Dean woke up to the sound of screaming.
He shot up, throwing his covers off, Cas was doing the same.
He grabbed a flashlight, flipped it on, and raced out of their bedroom with Cas on his heels.
Sam was sitting up on the bed, sweat making his hair stick to his face, his eyes too wide, his pupils huge.
“Sam, what’s wrong?” Dean hovered near him.
Sam blinked, rubbed at his chest.
“Sam,” Dean repeated, his voice firm, hoping to get Sam to focus.
His brother shook his head. “Sorry, nightmare.”
Dean glanced at Cas, who’s brow was furrowed. He mouthed one word to Dean. Memory.
Dean nodded, and knelt down on the floor as Cas went back to the bedroom, knowing Sam would be more likely to talk if it was just the two of them.
“Tell me about it?”
Sam shook his head. “It’s not important man. I‘m fine. Just go back to bed.”
Dean realized at that moment how frustrating he must be when he spouted shit like that. Dean took a deep breath. “I think we both know that’s not true; you remembered something, didn’t you?”
Sam’s face turned angry for split second, then their eyes locked, and whatever he saw in Dean’s face, melted the anger away, and he looked like a little boy again. Big brown eyes, lost expression, fear.
“I saw death, Dean. Images. Flashes of mangled bodies, and I could feel the pleasure he took at seeing humans so close to extinction.” Sam buried his face in his hands. “And I saw you and Cas, being flung through the air. I almost killed you both.”
Dean sucked in a breath, and steeled himself. He’d known this moment had to come sooner or later. He’d just hoped Sam would have had more time to adjust before he was hit over the head with this bullshit.
Dean grabbed his shoulders. “You didn’t almost kill us. You didn’t do anything to hurt anyone. That was Lucifer - not you.”
Something snapped in Sam at that moment, and Dean knew it was time for him to step up, and help him start to put himself back together. “But I said yes Dean. I fucking said yes.” He thumped his hand on his chest. “That was my decision. I caused all this.”
“No Sam; Lucifer did.”
Sam shook his head violently back and forth.
“Yes.” Dean made his voice strong, commanding. “If you blame yourself you’ll end up consumed by it - trust me, I know.”
Sam’s eyes shot up, and he shook harder. “Be better than me, Sammy; no one blames you. Not me, not Cas. We‘ve all fucked up royally in our lives. No one’s throwing stones.”
Dean wrapped his arms around Sam, and Sam didn‘t resist, instead crumpled against him. “Listen to me. If you blame anyone, you blame me. If I hadn’t pushed you away, if I’d stepped up sooner and been there, none of this would have happened, do you fucking hear me?”
Sam was crying, Dean could feel moisture on his shoulder, seeping through his t-shirt.
“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Sam half sobbed, half laughed into his shoulder.
Dean chuckled through the lump in his throat. “Cas turned me into a chick,” he said loudly.
“I heard that,” Cas’s warm voice called from the bedroom dispelling a lot of tension in the room.
“Remind me to thank him,” Sam fell silent for a moment then whispered, “I don’t blame you,” as his brother clung to him like a drowning victim fighting for air.
“Then you can’t blame yourself, either.”
Sam didn’t protest, he didn’t agree either, but it was a start.
Between him and Cas they would get him through this.
*****
Cas sat up the morning after Sam’s nightmare and took a deep breath, his feet dangling over the side of the bed. Dean had chosen to sleep in the chair next to Sam’s bed, Cas didn’t blame him.
Cas hadn’t slept much that night; every time he’d start to close his eyes he’d hear Sam moan, or cry out and it was like bucket of ice water had been shot into his veins, chilling him to the bone.
He’d forced himself not to go running out there. Dean knew he was here if he needed him; Cas didn’t want to intrude on their much needed healing process.
Cas got up, keeping his footsteps soft, then pulled on an old pair of jeans that had a hole in one knee, and padded to the living area.
Dean’s head was lolled back at a very uncomfortable looking angle, his jaw was slack, and he snored lightly. He looked wiped.
Sam was sitting up, staring off into space, he jumped a little when Cas quietly cleared his throat. His face broke out in a tired smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Cas smiled back anyway and gestured towards his mouth, making a chewing gesture.
Sam considered the silent question about food, then nodded, slid out of bed and followed Cas into the kitchen. Neither said anything as Cas pulled out some Spam, honey, and water and set it on the small wooden table.
Cas gestured towards it, and Sam sat down, not quite meeting Cas’s eyes.
Cas sat down and opened the jar of honey. “I know it’s not incredibly appetizing but…” he trailed off and shrugged. “It’s better than nothing.”
“It looks great. I’m actually starving.”
It wasn’t surprising. He probably hadn’t eaten in years. Cas offered him the jar and one of their few spoons.
Sam went for the Spam first, grinning. “It figures there would still be Spam.”
“It grows on you,” Cas replied, taking a drink of water.
They ate in silence for awhile; Cas might not know Sam as well as Dean, but he knew Sam was trying to work up the nerve to tell him something. He kept opening his mouth, would meet Cas’s gaze, then shove food in instead of saying whatever was on his mind.
Finally, after about ten false starts Sam whispered. “Sorry if I kept you up,” his face was shadowed with shame.
Cas shook his head, and rested his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Sam.” Cas said, his tone full of meaning.
They locked gazes, he could see Sam fighting the urge to protest, but he swallowed them back. “Thanks, Cas.”
“Have your memories cleared up some?” Cas asked, hoping he wasn’t pushing too much, or over-stepping his bounds.
Sam actually smiled, and Cas knew he hadn’t made a mistake. “I remember you very well if that’s what you’re asking.”
Cas felt his face stretch into a broad grin. “That’s reassuring.”
“Although you aren’t exactly like I remember,” Sam teased.
Cas tilted his head. “It’s the new clothes, isn’t it?”
“Among other things,” Sam laughed softly, his eyes fond.
The fact that he could still laugh warmed Castiel’s heart.
“A lot has happened.” Cas stated, his tone warm.
“I gathered that. Someday you’re going to have to fill me in,” Sam added.
“I will, that’s a promise.”
“Good.”
They ate a little more, then Sam started sharing again, surprising Cas with his openness.
“There’s a lot that’s muddled, though,” Sam became contemplative. “Things are clearer than yesterday - the past stuff anyway - not everything though. And I still don’t remember hardly anything after Detroit,” he admitted.
“Sam,” Cas leaned forward, “that might be a good thing. Don’t push yourself; let things come naturally, when you’re ready for them.”
Sam sighed. “Yeah. Easier said than done.”
“I know.”
They finished eating, and Cas started to clear the table, Sam stood and helped. Cas let him, he knew how important it was to feel useful, even if it was something small.
He showed him where the food went, Sam bent down, and placed the honey on its shelf. Cas was cleaning off their utensils when he heard a quiet gasp.
He spun, Sam was on his knees, holding his head.
Cas knelt down, gripped his shoulders. “Sam. What’s wrong?”
“Hang…on.”
Cas felt his heart rocket in his chest, he almost ran for Dean, but Sam was gripping his arms so tightly there would probably be bruises, so he stayed. It was probably less than a minute later that Sam opened his eyes, but it felt like days.
Pain and shame were written all over his face.
Please father, help us to help him.
“It’s okay Sam, whatever it was, it’s okay. You’re safe.” Cas found himself murmuring, his hands squeezing Sam’s now sweat tinged t-shirt.
Sam shook his head and stood, wobbling a little, but Cas had risen with him. He steadied his friend, his eyes searching his face.
“I’ll get Dean.”
Sam gripped his wrist, his tone desperate. “Let him sleep. There’s nothing he can do.”
Cas knew Dean would not want to be kept out of the loop, but Sam was practically begging him, so Cas nodded reluctantly and kept quiet.
“So is there something else I can help with?” he tried to keep his face neutral, but Cas could see his unease sneaking out through the facade.
Cas understood Sam’s need to keep busy. He plucked at his brain and came up with something tedious that would keep Sam occupied for a while.
“Laundry,” Cas blurted. “We have fallen behind on it,” he explained, hoping it didn’t sound too forced.
Sam seemed surprised, but grateful. “Sure,” his eyes swept over their home. “I’m guessing there’s not a washer and dryer in this place?”
Cas smiled. “Not exactly, but I’ll show you what to do.”
They gathered up the pile of clothes. While Sam scooped a pair of Dean’s dirty socks Cas allowed himself to give him a once over. He noted the sweat on his skin, the still too rapid breathing, and the slightly jerky movements.
Sam was far from fine, but he was awake, he was talking, and he was Sam. That was all that mattered, this would pass in time. Cas told himself that, as he glanced back at Dean who still slept.
He was catching up on days without any real rest.
Sam shadowed Cas out the back, brandishing an armful of clothing and blankets. Cas figured Sam could wash it all, whether it needed it or not. If it would help him get through this, Sam could scrub their cabin from top to bottom for all he cared.
****
2 days later
Dean watched Sam as he fiddled with a needle and thread. His brother was repairing a hole in Cas’s favorite pair of jeans, his head bent while he patiently threaded the needle. He enjoyed sewing, said it kept his brain focused, that it calmed him.
Dean knew Sam needed to keep busy. He’d virtually been shoving anything and everything at him to organize and clean he could find over the past few days.
Sam was fragile as all hell, he still had nightmares every night, and sometimes during the day. Although he had to give it to his brother, he was handling it as well as anyone could expect.
Dean still hadn’t told him about him being from the past, he wanted to but Sam had enough on his plate dealing with memories of Satan plowing through humanity.
He still only got flashes, he’d described it as watching fragments of a film. You saw images, but not enough to truly understand what was going on.
Until Sam could sleep for more than an hour without waking up screaming, Dean wasn’t letting him out of his sight - no matter how much it pissed Sam off.
Cas thought it was a good idea if Sam got some company besides them, to ease him into being around other people. Sam had agreed, so tonight Molly and Chuck were both coming over for dinner and poker.
Dean wasn’t happy about it. He thought this was too soon, but Sam had been around Molly already, and he knew Chuck. He just hoped things went smoothly.
“I’m not going to freak out, Dean.” Sam’s tone was more than a little annoyed as Dean hovered a few feet away.
“Did I say you were?” he snapped.
“No, but you’re thinking it.”
Dean growled.
Cas stepped in between them. “They’ll be here any minute, why don’t you set the table,” Cas’s voice was soft, but firm as he gave Dean one of his stop annoying your brother looks.
Dean grumbled, but walked over to the cabinet and started pulling out a few dishes.
He could feel Sam smirking from his chair.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Sam’s voice was pure innocence.
Dean repressed the urge go back over there and slap the smirk Sam was probably wearing right off his face. Sam’s brain was jumbled enough without him making it worse.
The smell of actual meat wafted over and Dean felt his mouth water and his annoyance melt away.
Mark and Risa had gotten lucky and spotted a deer in the area. Mark was an expert marksman with a bow and arrow. Silent and deadly.
Molly had cooked it at her place, and had brought their share over to eat tonight.
Dean’s stomach rumbled and he quickly finished setting the table.
“Hey guys,” Molly’s warm voice reached his ears, and Dean smiled at her, but her eyes were on Sam.
Dean noticed his brothers face lighten in a way he hadn’t seen in a long time. “Hey, Molly.”
She smiled back, her eyes warm.
Molly had been monitoring Sam daily. Apparently they’d become fast friends.
The nurse, followed by Chuck carrying a plate of venison, headed to the table. Dean caught Sam’s eye, it was his turn to smirk.
*****
1 week later
Dean smiled as he watched his brother sleeping peacefully. It had been five hours and not a peep.
The memories hadn’t been coming as often or as intense. Sam had taken to meditating; Cas had helped him with techniques.
Dean had given them hell about it, but he had to admit, it was helping.
That and the St. John‘s Wort Molly had prescribed. It was some herbal crap that she said might help, it seemed she’d been right.
Sam wasn’t perfect. He’d jump for no reason, go still in the middle of conversations, but everything considered he was doing awesome.
Dean stood up, fought against his protective instinct to hover, and forced himself to his bedroom. Cas was snuggled deep into the covers, his face half submerged. His soft breathing and mussed hair made Dean grin.
He’d been sleeping in that chair for too many nights. He pulled off his shoes and shirt and crawled into bed, placing his hand protectively over Cas’s hip.
Cas murmured, but didn’t completely wake, as he burrowed his face against Dean’s chest, and sighed contentedly.
Dean kissed his hair, and closed his eyes, feeling that he really was home.
****
2 weeks later
“You’re from where?” The little dickhead was actually laughing.
“The past, Sam.” Dean stood up and raised his arms over his head. “I don’t see why you find this so funny!”
“I’m sorry, just after everything I’ve remembered and you’ve told me about the world - I didn’t think it could get any weirder.” Sam flopped down on the bed. “I’ve seen some strange shit, but damn, this takes the cake.”
‘I’m glad you find my bumble fuck of a life so freaking hilarious.”
“Dean, come on - you have to admit the whole thing sounds like the plot of bad sci-fi movie.”
Dean snorted, and tried not to laugh, but seeing Sam smiling so naturally, it was incredible.
“Screw you,” he mumbled, half-heartedly.
Sam just grinned, then his face sobered. “But if you’re from the past, what about the other you? I mean wouldn’t he have been here?”
Dean felt queasy, but he needed to be honest. “Yeah, he was here. He was a mess. He died.”
Sam wasn’t laughing now. “Wow. I don’t even know how to feel about that.”
“Welcome to my world.” Dean huffed.
Sam rivaled Cas when it came to perceptiveness. “He’s what made you change - why you stopped hating me for what I did.”’
“Jesus, Sam. I never hated you. I was just upset. ” Dean sat down on the edge of the bed. “But yeah, he’s part of it. Seeing what I could become…but it wasn’t just him.”
“Cas.” Sam breathed, his eyes weren’t teasing, they were happy.
“Yeah,” Dean rubbed at the back of his neck.
“For what it’s worth - I approve.” Sam said quietly.
Dean leaned forward. “Aww Sammy, you giving us your blessing?” he made his tone too high, his eyes too wide.
Sam groaned. “You’re such an ass.”
****
Sam was outside doing laundry, and succeeding more so than Dean ever had. Cas watched him from the window, his palms were sweaty, his throat felt parched. He was closer to Sam than he had ever been, hours spent meditating, and just talking. He felt like he’d gained a brother, he didn’t want to lose him, but he couldn’t keep hiding behind the Sam needs time excuse, because honestly Sam was doing rather well.
Molly stepped into view and offered her assistance. Sam ducked his head slightly and handed her a shirt. She’d been coming to visit Sam almost daily the past few days. Cas hoped something would come from their friendship; he adored them both and liked the match. He wanted them to find happiness.
“What’s on your mind?” Dean came up behind him, arms wrapping around his waist.
Cas rested his hands over Dean’s, and drew a deep breath. “I want to tell him tonight.”
Dean understood. “You want me there?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’ll be there.”
Cas tried not to be terrified of Sam’s reaction to his past. He didn’t think he would judge him, but Sam had this idea of him as an angel, all of his memories except those from the past few weeks were of that. How would he react when he found out Castiel was not at all what he thought he was - instead of a being of grace, he was a washed up drug addict, who’d almost given up on life until Dean had come along.
“It’ll be fine feathers,” Dean whispered against his ear.
Cas breathed in his freshly washed scent and tried to believe him.
*****
Later that night over dinner Dean sat in quiet support while Cas told Sam about his drug addiction. Sam had listened patiently, never interrupting. He was good at things like that.
When Cas finished speaking Sam was quiet for a moment, his expression contemplative.
“You know,” Sam leaned forward, his face soft, “for the past few weeks you’ve been basically helping to put me back together piece by piece. Listening to me bitch, putting up with my poor attempts at meditation, never complaining about anything, and all the while you’ve been keeping yourself clean and sober.”
Sam had a expression of awe that made him look years younger. “You are amazing, Cas. You have nothing to feel ashamed of - if anything you have more grace than any angel could ever hope to possess.”
Cas swallowed, his eyes shimmering with emotion. “Thank you, Sam.”
Sam reached out, squeezed his shoulder. “I know how hard it is - not getting another fix.”
Cas nodded, his gaze intense.
“Just know that I get it man. I was-am a demon blood junkie. The way it made me feel, I still miss it.”
Cas nodded again. “Me too.”
Sam let his arm drop, but his gaze never wavered from Cas. “I promise it does get easier.”
Cas shuddered, then closed his eyes for several moments.
“If there’s anything I can ever do to help, please don’t hesitate.”
Cas opened his eyes.
“It would be nice to help you for a change,” Sam smiled, his tone sincere and affectionate.
“You already have.” Cas paused. “It helps when you have people around you that care and won‘t stop fighting for you.” Cas added pointedly.
“I’ll drink to that,” Dean spoke through the tightness in his throat, holding up his water.
Sam gave a weak smile and met both of their supportive gazes. “Yes it does,” he agreed, his expression earnest and grateful.
They ate in silence for awhile.
“So,” Sam grinned. “I’ve been meaning to tell you Cas - you and Dean.” He gestured between them.
Cas nodded, his expression going worried again. Dean knew better, and snarled. “Sam.”
Sam ignored him.
“It makes sense. There’s no woman alive that could put up with his shit.”
“Hey,” Dean yelled, putting as much indignation as he could into his tone.
“He is quite a handful.” Cas added playfully, his body visibly relaxing.
Dean glared at him, but he couldn’t stop his lips from twitching.
“He’s lucky. I just feel sorry for you.” Sam added while Dean tried not to laugh.
Dean looked between them both as they cracked up at his expense.
Yep. He was definitely home.
Final Chapter
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