A Subtle Touch of Grace
Title: A Subtle Touch of Grace
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Sam/OFC
Warnings: See Master Post for full list of warnings.
Word Count: 8,163
Summary:There are many sayings for the wants of man: you can't always get what you want, you don't know what you want until it's gone, and most importantly, you don't know what you want until you have it. After averting the Apocalypse, a miracle in the form of an Angel-Human Hybrid and the reorganization of Heaven brings Dean and Castiel both closer together and farther apart than ever before. Dean lives with a broken heart and finds Faith in unexpected places, Sam finds the normal life he's always wanted while on a hunt of all places, and Castiel discovers that God was closer than everyone thought.
Dean didn't think you could sleep in Heaven, but apparently, one could. He knew he'd fallen asleep lying in Cas' arms on that overstuffed couch of Bobby's that he'd not seen in over a decade. Now he was starting to wake up and already he knew he wasn't on that couch any longer. He wasn't sure where he was, other than it was familiar and at the same time, completely foreign. He was warm, that was certain. It was the warmth of a hot bath after a long day, blankets fresh from the dryer, and being wrapped in a lover's arms all at the same time sort of warm. He slowly stretched out, and found no resistance to his movement. “Weird...” He didn't want to try and stand, because he was also aware of the fact that he was moving. He rolled over and looked up and saw nothing but brilliant light. It didn't burn him, yet it was so bright, so amazingly pure, he couldn't make out anything else. There was a soft humming sound that seemed to mix in with the warmth, adding to it and soothing him. “Cas?” He couldn't see him and in that moment he realized why he couldn't see the angel anywhere, because the angel was everywhere.
Blinking once or twice and sitting up, Dean finally made a few things out a little clearer. He was sitting in a pair of cupped hands, hands the size of two-story house. He was overwhelmed and nearly fell back down into the palm he was sitting in, trembling. “Castiel?” He seriously doubted the angel could hear him or even knew he was moving.
“Of course I can hear you, Dean.” Castiel's voice was more of a whisper across his mind (did souls have minds?) than in his ears. “Don't be afraid.”
Dean swallowed hard, still not certain what to make of all this. “I...”
“We'll be there soon.” The angel sounded reassuring, although Dean couldn't fully comprehend all of this.
As he settled back down to rest in the groove he'd been sleeping in, Dean curled up, not wanting to think of how the outside observer might see this. “This is friggin' insane.”
“No one can see us.” There was an odd tremor to the angel's voice, almost as if he couldn't believe that fact.
“You're used to it, I'm not.” Dean curled up into the fetal position, still not assured he was safe. It wasn't that he doubted Castiel's words; however, he'd never liked flying, and didn't think he ever could. He was dead for crying out loud and still scared shitless over flying.
Castiel urged himself forward, racing to reach his destination, not at all comfortable with the emotions pouring off of Dean. It was horrible to think that in a dimension where fear was supposed to be banished from the human psyche, the emotion was starting to overtake the soul in his hands. Through corridors and passageways, around immense buildings humans would never see from the outside, he raced onwards, heading back to the one place he didn't think he'd be back to visit so soon.
Dean was aware when Castiel stopped moving and gently set him down on something warm and supple. A fraction of a second later, the heat he'd known in the angel's hands suddenly seemed to completely fill him and he felt his breath (was he still breathing, exactly?) leave him. It was like being held, kissed, and loved all at the same time. It was everywhere and he slowly opened his eyes as the feeling abated to see the angel sitting over him, one hand on his cheek and the other clamped against his arm, where the hand-print burn scar still resided. Castiel wasn't wearing the tunic shirt that he'd been garbed in back in his Heaven. Those wings, those incredible wings Dean had only seen once were out and the angel was still breathing hard with the adrenaline of their flight. “Where are we?”
The angel brushed a stray strand of hair off of Dean's forehead, noticing a change he wasn't sure if the man himself knew about. Dean's hair was longer now; gone was the military style crew-cut. It wasn't as long as Castiel remembered Sam's being - it might be the fact that Dean's hair had a slight curl to it. “We're home.” He leaned down and kissed the man softly. “Our home.”
Dean blinked once or twice, not knowing quite how to react to that statement. The urge to look around was being outweighed by other things right now. He reached up and pulled Castiel back down towards him. “Less talk, more kissing.”
“No objections to that, Dean.” The angel smiled and let himself get drawn into the kiss he'd been waiting seventeen very, very long years for.
**
Holly walked in to school the Monday after her uncle's funeral against her parent's wishes. She didn't know what she would do even if she did stay home. If she stayed home, it'd only make matters worse. It'd only remind her that her uncle was gone and that he was never coming back. She slammed her locker shut and headed for her first class, head down. People gave her funny looks in the hallways, as if surprised by her presence. She and her brother kept hoping their cousin would make another appearance, however, after almost thirty-six hours, she figured he'd gone back to Heaven or wherever it was he usually lived. Going through the motions of the school day were actually a lot easier than she'd thought they would be, so that by the time rehearsal rolled around, she figured that she'd become numb to the pain.
Holly wasn't counting on the pain being bad until tomorrow. Tuesday was the day she had usually gone to visit Uncle Dean. She shoved a few books into her locker and headed for the theater, stopping short when she saw the director, Ms MacHale, talking to one of the last people she expected to see in her school.
“Oh, there you are Holly. I was just talking with your cousin here.”
Liam gave her a very guarded smile, trying not to show too much emotion in his face.
“Uh...yeah.” She didn't want to say anything about the fact that her cousin was wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing two days ago, and they still looked spotlessly clean. “I didn't know he was going to be here so...”
“It's perfectly alright.” The woman's tone let her know she was ready to override any objection or excuse she might have made. “Pity he has to go back to Ecuador before the end of the week.” She beamed at him. “So he asked if it would be all right if he stayed to watch the rehearsal this afternoon, but only if it is alright with you.”
Holly bit her lip and shrugged. “I guess that'd be okay but seriously... I don't think...”
“I'm going to go let a few other members of the cast know, so they won't wonder why there's a giant sitting in the theater. Call is in twenty minutes.” She turned and strode away.
“Ecuador?” Holly squeaked out. “You told her you live in Ecuador?”
Liam gave her a very mischievous grin and spoke in a flawless New Zealand accent. “I am a missionary to Ecuador, remember? I help people build houses and dig wells.”
“In that case, be sure you tell Hannah Strug what kind of sunblock you use, because her skin's twice as fair as yours is.” She shook her head and walked away.
“Neutrogena SPF eighty-four,” Liam called after her and went into the theater, catching her retort of 'smart-ass' as the door swung shut behind him.
**
Dean woke up slowly, resolving to try and stop thinking about how exactly things worked in Heaven, and found that Castiel was also dozing lightly. He rolled over onto his back to see the ceiling of the room they were in was high above him, at least twenty feet or more. The dark mahogany wood beams were a sharp contrast to the buttery-yellow color of the rest of the walls. There were windows up there too, all of them open, letting in a gentle breeze that even with the distance between him and them ruffled his hair just enough to be noticed. He frowned, slowly counting the windows, a grand total of sixteen of them, and if there was wall space between each of them, the room he was currently in had to be enormous. He lifted himself to a sit, mindful of Castiel's wing, which was still draped over him. The bed, or whatever they were in, stood in the middle of the room, which was square and looked to be around fifty by fifty feet. There was one door in the entire room and it was normal sized, so Dean figured that they'd either flown in here via the window or it was more complicated than he'd thought. The floors were the same butter color as the walls, and upon inspection, Dean saw that he was looking at some kind of stone, either granite or marble. The bed-thing was on a wooden platform that was raised up from the floor several feet, hence making it seem a little sunken. The only other furniture he could see in the room was a small footstool a few feet away and a coat rack on which hung another tunic like the one Castiel had been wearing, except it didn't have sleeves. “What the...”
Castiel opened his eyes and looked up at Dean, smiling. “You're awake.”
“Yeah.” Dean ran a hand through his hair, his face contorting slightly when he took in what they were lying in. “Are we in a frickin' nest?”
The angel frowned. “Yes. Is something wrong with that?”
“Angels sleep in nests?”
“Did you think angels slept in beds when they were in their homes?” Castiel sat up and stretched slightly. “I'll admit I've not been here in a long time.”
Dean let out a breath. “So this is where you and Liam lived, huh?”
“Yes.” Castiel rested his head against Dean's shoulder, a slight slump to his stature. “We did.”
In response, he gave the angel a one armed hug and kissed his forehead. “He came to see me before - before I got here.”
Tension seemed to melt off Castiel and he sat up a little straighter. “Did he?”
“Yeah.” Dean gave him a smile. “Said he'd come and see us as soon as he could. Whatever soon means to angels, that is.”
“He... he remembers both of us, not just you?” Castiel said incredulously.
“Yeah. Though I don't know if you'll recognize him when you first see him, 'cause I sure didn't. Then again, in my defense, I was pumped full of pain killers at the time.”
The angel let out a sound that was half laugh, half cry. “I don't believe it.” He pulled Dean into a tight hug. “That's supposed to be impossible.”
He let out a snort in response. “In case you've forgotten, Winchesters have a habit of not doing what they're supposed to do.”
The angel laughed softly and wrapped his wings around Dean as well. “That you do.”
Dean rested his head on Cas' shoulder, snuggling close to him. “So this is your home, huh?”
“Our home, Dean.” The angel corrected him, rubbing the man's back in slow circles. “Though we can't stay here forever, we can stay here together for periods of time.”
“Don't know if I could look at these walls forever, Cas.” He kissed the angel's neck. “And some time is better than no time.”
“An optimistic answer. Something I didn't think you ever gave.” The angel pulled away just enough to lift Dean's chin and look into his eyes. “What else have you been up to since I saw you last?”
“Rebuilt some cars, broadened my music tastes and turned down a lot of dates.” Dean's smile was almost sheepish.
“Broadened your music tastes how, exactly?” Castiel gave him wry expression. “Was there, I believe the term is... revival... of the classic hard rock genre?”
“Na, classic rock is called classic for a reason. Though I did go to the final concert of The Who. Led Zeppelin had theirs in London and much as I love Zep, I wasn't getting on a plane. Particularly one flying over the ocean.” Dean closed his eyes again. “Told you I started listening to that choir music Liam liked so much.”
Castiel smiled and kissed his forehead. “We all found our ways to get through the past seventeen years. I think I've listened to more books than I ever thought of reading, although I have yet to select a favorite from among them.”
“Sorry I freaked out over the flying thing a little while ago.”
“No, Dean. The fault was mine. I should have prepared you better.”
“I don't think it was the flying so much as the...” Dean struggled to find the right words. “Don't take this the wrong way, but waking up in a giant pair of hands would freak just about anyone out, living or dead.”
The angel nodded. “Understandable.” He held Dean closer to him. “Would you object to trying it again sometime?”
He thought for a moment. It was true, he'd been a little more overwhelmed with his surroundings and waking up already in mid-flight than the actual flying. “No, no I wouldn't.” He gave Castiel a smile. “Just, not any time real soon, okay?”
“Okay.” Castiel pulled them back down to the floor of the nest. “I prefer this right now anyway.”
Dean laughed. “No objections here, Castiel. No objections to this ever.”
**
Sam went back to work on the eighth of November, after almost an entire month off. He'd not trusted himself to not fall apart again until the second had passed. Over the following weeks he slowly slid back into the routine he'd had before Dean moved to Blue Springs. Life wouldn't ever be normal again, he knew that. As much as he hated to admit it, Liam had been right. Sam had always labored under the impression that he didn't need family, however, deep down, he'd always needed them - and now, he was without the one thing he'd always come to depend on in life: his big brother. He would have to find a way to adjust to life without Dean - even if at times it seemed utterly impossible. Thanksgiving was approaching rapidly, and he knew it'd be a hard one. The first holidays were always the hardest, he'd been told. It was going to be one of the Thanksgivings where just part of the family showed up in Atchison, so at least there would be some comfort in the fact that he wouldn't have to answer the same questions over and over.
“Sam?” Gina's voice brought him back to reality. “Could you pass the pepper please?”
“Sure.” He took the shaker and handed it to her. “How many of these have we gone to now?”
Gina laughed softly. “This makes nineteen for you.” She grinned as she turned her attention to her plate. “I never thought I'd be working for this company for twenty-five years.”
“I didn't think we'd be having the same chicken and potato dish at every employee banquet we've attended in this place.”
The coworker of Gina's sitting at the table next to Sam burst out laughing. “I thought it looked familiar!”
Gina shook her head in response and passed the salt to the person sitting next to her. “Honestly, Sam...”
“No, I'm serious. I've eaten at a Denny's in all of the lower forty-eight and even they don't crank out food as cloned as this dish is.” Sam stabbed a chunk of his meat. “Though I will say, in its defense, it hasn't been served cold in at least eleven years.”
Gina set her fork down, starting to chuckle. “Everything was cold eleven years ago! That blizzard came out of nowhere!” She took a drink of water to try and control her mirth.
“Augh, that was awful,” the man sitting on the other side of the table added. “I'd say it was a good thing we didn't have it over in the banquet room at the Platte City Best Western that year. I still can't believe they didn't cancel it.”
“This was almost as bad. I mean, sure, home's just a few miles away, but in that weather? Forget it.” Sam shook his head. “We all had to stay here for the night. Our neighbor was watching Holly, and she called right after the power went out in our neighborhood to tell us that she was going to take her over to her house for the night. If we hadn't talked to her, they never would have gotten Hols to fall asleep.”
“They did cancel the dinner...” Gina set her glass down. “The directors had a short meeting and said we'd get together for a nice breakfast in the morning. So we had an awards banquet with doughnuts and fruit cups.”
Sam listened as the employees went on talking about that harrowing winter banquet, only half listening as he ate his dinner. In a few days, it would be the one month anniversary of Dean's death.
He just had to keep moving forward, one step at a time.
*
Daniel often wished his grandparents would make a bigger deal about Thanksgiving, so they didn't always have to go to Atchison. However he knew that deep down, he shouldn't complain. The food was always great, there was always plenty of it, and best of all, plenty of relatives who didn't ask him stupid questions like what grade he was in school now - because the Winchester side actually bothered to remember - and all those other irritating questions that seemed to crop up at family gatherings on his mom's side of the family. He leaned his chin on his hand, watching the scenery fly past. “You think it's going to snow?”
Sam shook his head. “They're calling for flurries - I don't think there will be any accumulation if it does snow.”
In the seat next to Daniel, Holly frowned at her reader, running her finger back and forth to turn the page. “The mother in this book is so annoying...”
“What are you reading, honey?” Gina looked over her shoulder at her daughter.
“Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. I mean, I don't get how these books got to be so popular thirty years ago.”
Sam snorted. “Thirty years ago the fiction for kids your age was horrible. There was nothing original or entertaining, Harry Potter was something new.” He glanced at the girl in the rear-view mirror. “You're reading that for school?”
“Yeah.” She sighed and leaned back in her seat. “I just... it's weird.”
“Weird is one way of putting it.” Gina smiled. “Is there something you don't understand?”
“Yeah. Why is a book geared toward ten year olds on the list of books I'm supposed to read before I graduate?”
“Hey!” Daniel interjected.
“Wait until you get to the Russian authors. Then you'll be wishing for the good books with Harry and all of his friends.” Sam chuckled. “Still can't believe it's taken you this long to read that series.”
“Not a fan of science fiction and fantasy, Dad. I mean, I have to be the only person in this family who hasn't read the entire Narnia series.” Holly snorted and went back to her book.
Daniel rolled his eyes. “You have no idea what you're missing with that.”
“Yeah yeah, ” Holly replied, keeping her eyes on her reader.
*
Daniel thought the best and the worst thing about Thanksgiving this year was that no one mentioned Uncle Dean. It was as if his death had swept him under the rug and out of all conversation, the same with his grandparents, various cousins who'd not been seen in years - it was just like he didn't exist. Daniel was glad that no one mentioned him in that the pain was still very fresh, yet he was angry that no one even wanted to ask how his dad was doing. How he was doing. It was pretty obvious to him and Holly that all the other kids their age were avoiding the subject with them. He'd sort of been hoping that Liam would make an appearance for dinner; however considering it'd taken seventeen years for the guy to show up the last time, it was a lost cause.
When they came home, Daniel waited until his parents were both in their room before going down the hall to his sister's room. “Hols?” He knocked once. “Can I come in?”
Holly opened the door to admit her brother, looking perplexed. “Something wrong?”
Daniel took the book he'd been carrying out from under his arm and held it out to her. “Have you seen this?”
The girl took the offered book, took one glance at it and went white. “This is Granddad's journal. You're not supposed to read that!”
“Too late.” He sat down in his sister's desk chair. “Hols, is that... stuff in the book, are they true?”
“You mean - about monsters?” Holly sat down on her bed, sighing.
“Yeah. Dad says monsters aren't real. According to that, they are. Who's telling the truth?”
Holly set the journal down and took a deep breath. “I can't tell you that, Danny.”
“Why not?”
“Because I promised Uncle Dean I wouldn't. Not until you're old enough. Heck, Dad doesn't even know that I know about this.”
“I'm ten, Hols. That's older than Dad was, according to...”
“According to what?” A voice came from the doorway and both kids jumped. Sam stood there, taking the scene in. It was almost like looking into the past. Two kids, and an unopened journal he'd not seen in years lying next to his eldest. “Holly Deanna Winchester, where did you get that?”
“Uncle Dean gave it to me.” This was the truth. He'd given it to her after making her promise not to tell Daniel about any of what was in it until he was at least thirteen.
“Dad, it's my fault,” Daniel interjected before their father could reprimand his sister. “I took it out from where Hols had it hidden.”
Sam sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. “You aren't supposed to know about - ”
“Monsters?” Holly offered.
“I didn't want you two knowing about them.” He came over and shooed Daniel out of the desk chair and sat down in his place as the boy scrambled to sit next to his sister. “How much of that book have you read. And tell the truth.”
“Almost all of it,” Holly said. “Some of it's kind of hard, cause Granddad had horrible handwriting.”
“First few years...” Daniel answered. “I got to the part about... uh... that teacher in New Mexico and got scared. That's why I came to talk to Holly.”
Sam had never, ever wanted to have this conversation with his children. He wanted this part of the Winchester's life sealed and forgotten. “Before I start to explain all of this, Holly, did your uncle tell you about Liam? About where he really was the past seventeen years?”
“Liam's been in New Zealand,” Daniel said, looking stunned. “Where else would he have been?”
“Yeah. Uncle Dean told me about Liam and about Castiel.”
“Who's Castiel?”
“Castiel is a long story.” Sam set his father's journal on Holly's desk. “And we will get to him eventually. Because he's a very big part of this story.” He took a deep breath and began at the most logical place he could think of. “Around thirty years ago, I was living in Palo Alto, in California, going to Stanford University. I hadn't seen your uncle Dean in four years, when one night he broke into my apartment to talk to me...”
**
Castiel wasn't quite sure how he felt about the current 'addition' to the home. Until recently he'd thought that pets getting into Heaven was a myth - or that the ones who appeared in the Heavens of humanity were mere projections of the ones that had existed on Earth. However, this dog - who never made any attempt to move from her spot just outside the nest - was either the most obstinate animal that ever existed or just didn't like him very much. “I still do not understand why you named this dog Scully.”
Dean was dozing in the nest behind him. “I didn't name her Scully. The person who had her first named her that. Figured they were either X-Files fans or just thought the name was good.”
“I do not understand why she prefers the floor to being up here with you. She is your dog, Dean.” The angel watched as the dog came closer to the side of the nest and lay down just under where he was leaning against the side. “I thought if you had such a dog, she would sleep where you did.”
“Sculls always slept by my bed, never on it. It was a training thing.” Dean slowly sat up, mindful of the fourth occupant of the room. “And furthermore, she's not stubborn Cas, she's a Winchester.”
The angel gave him a look. “That explains much.” He reached down and rubbed the dog behind the ears, which seemed to be exactly what the dog wanted in the first place. “It is not that I object to her presence, Dean, it is just that I do not know what to make of her.”
“She's a dog, Cas. She's not that complicated. She spent seven years working, and the first two years of her life training for that work. She's kind of like you in that regard.”
He gave the man an offended look. “What does that mean?”
“It means that now that she no longer has to work, she has no idea what she's supposed to do. All she's ever known is work, more or less. All you knew for the longest time was work and when you tripped into unfamiliar territory, you weren't sure how to handle it.” He sighed. “I don't mean it in a bad way, Cas.”
“I understand what you're trying to say, Dean.” He smiled in response. “I am glad she was around to take care of you.”
“Scully's a good dog. Give her a few weeks and she'll probably start wanting to play as much as a puppy.”
Scully had sat up and was nudging at Castiel's now still hand and the angel complied by rubbing her behind the ears again. “She's also very demanding.”
“Na, she's not demanding. She is just long overdue for some serious attention and affection. I don't think she got much of that during the few months of retirement she had.” He rubbed his face. “You need to rest.”
“As do you.” Castiel turned. “I do not think a dog as loyal as this one should have to sleep on the floor.” He rubbed Scully's ears again.
“You get settled first and then I'll get Scully up here. She's still getting to know you.” Dean was stating a fact. The dog had only been with them for a few days and had been oddly cautious around the angel. Scully rarely trusted strangers right off.
The angel returned to a niche in the soft floor of the nest and stretched his wings once before laying down, curling himself around the egg that had made an appearance several days ago, draping one arm over it.
Dean smiled at the sight and called his dog. He watched as the animal scrambled over the lip of the nest with ease and came to lie down on his other side. “Good girl.” He rubbed her once before lying back down, draping his arm against the egg so he could hold Castiel's hand. Almost instantly, he felt a familiar tiny little push against his mind, something that still made him feel a little uncomfortable. “Cas? Why does she keep doing that?”
Castiel smiled and squeezed Dean's hand as he felt the familiar nudge against him. “She's using her grace to keep track of her surroundings.”
“Reassurance sort of thing?” Dean replied sleepily.
“Exactly.” The angel rubbed the back of Dean's hand with his thumb, humming softly.
Dean felt the dog settle down against his back and then thump her tail twice. “I think our girl just figured out how to give an ear rub via the mind.”
“I would not be surprised.” Castiel smiled and rested his head against the egg, making a soft cooing noise. “I remember telling you the other day that since I named Liam, it is only fair that you get to name this child.”
“I know, Cas.” Dean yawned. “I know it's only been a few days, but I was thinking of Brielle.”
The angel frowned slightly. “Brielle?”
“It's a nice name.” Dean rested his head against the egg, mirroring Cas' position. “What's wrong with it?”
“There's nothing wrong with it. I was merely perplexed because of what the name means.”
“Well, if it bothers you, we'll call her Ellie for short.” Dean felt another nudge against his mind. “See, she likes it.”
Castiel squeezed Dean's hand again. “I guess she does,” he said as he felt the same touch against his grace. “I have a feeling she's going to be quite the handful.”
“Wouldn't have her any other way, Cas,” Dean replied.
**
After watching the books gather dust, Sam came to the conclusion that he couldn't keep them in his house any longer. It took Sam exactly ten months, three weeks and five days to go through the entire contents of Bobby's book collection to check for stray papers, notes and other miscellaneous items. He had enlisted the help of Holly and Danny, who'd been more than happy to help him. Over those many months and weeks, he'd told them a lot more than he planned to, much more than he ever really wanted to. At first, he'd felt betrayed that his older brother had told his daughter the truth. After some reflection, Sam realized that it was better for the kids to know and not stumble into it, the way his own father had. He started from the beginning and told them about how he and Dean grew up, about monsters, about Jo and Ellen, about their Uncle Bobby and of course, he told them what he could about their Uncle Castiel. They'd had questions about some of the parts, thankfully none of them related to Ruby. Although he'd not gone into great detail with her - they seemed to accept the 'she was very manipulative and I was out of my mind with grief' as being believable. He prayed that they never asked for more details in regards to her.
The spare contents of the books turned out to be a large quantity of notes, the earliest dated 1978 and the most recent 2025. There were also seventeen letters, eight playing cards and two hundred and fifty dollars, made up mostly of one dollar bills.
He wrote letters to various members of the library board and the directors, and now the Robert Singer Special Collection was getting the dust-free, temperature-controlled home it had always deserved at the Lewis and Clark Library in Kansas City. When Gina had first told him about the new destination library that was being built, Sam had been surprised. Her employer already had three other destination libraries, one of which Gina worked at. However this one was to be a little different than the others. It would focus solely on special collections from around the country and the world. It'd be similar to the genealogical branch, which Sam translated to 'no kids under fifteen allowed' - a rule that he sometimes thought unfair, and other times practical. The library would be solely for research and research alone.
Perhaps the most shocking thing to Sam was the fact that it was being built in an area that thirty years ago, had been completely decimated by crime. Those days were long past, just from looking around the parking lot. He'd taken off work early to join the other people who'd donated collections to the library for a special tour before its official grand opening. He hurried up the steps and paused to look back out over the lot when he reached the top, his eyes focused on the backs of the statue of the library's namesakes, Clark's hand pointed northward. Down below the lot, in a hollow where there used to be stores and motels, the land had been given back to nature and was now full of prairie grass and wildflowers. Sam thought it was a very nice touch. He smiled at the mural of the history of Kansas City painted on this side of the noise wall that separated the grassland from the off-ramp of the highway.
Still smiling to himself, Sam turned and headed to the front doors. Today was his fiftieth birthday. Twenty-five years ago, he'd just wanted to live to see twenty-six. He knew that when he got home tonight, he could expect some kind of special dinner or something. Gina was big into birthdays.
*
That night, Sam couldn't sleep. After lying awake for several hours, hearing Gina's even breathing in bed next to him all the while, he got up, careful not to wake her and headed down to the family room. He took one of the heavy photo albums from the shelf and sat down in the overstuffed chair next to the fireplace. He knew full well why sleep was eluding him and getting this book out was nothing more than feeding the pain that was slowly building in his chest, but he had to do it. A good cry and then he knew he'd be able to sleep. One good long cry. He opened the book and stared down at the first page. Mom and Dad standing in front of the Impala. Dad was in a very ugly suit that was synonymous with the seventies and Mom was wearing a floral dress with an empire waist, holding a bouquet of white lavender and holly. Flowers for protection and defense.
Sam sighed and went through the pictures that came to him via his uncles. Mom and Dad in front of their first house, then came the baby pictures of his older brother. All smiles and freckles, someone who Sam didn't know. The Dean he'd known had been, for the most part, cautious and serious and didn't have the big grin he had in many of the pictures. He was staring down at what had to be Dean's third Christmas, judging from the pregnant state of Mom, and wondering, of all things, if that shiny black tricycle his brother was sitting on had been destroyed in the fire when he heard a rustling sound. He slowly raised his head and at the same time, heard a voice he'd not heard in over twenty years.
“Hello, Sam.”
Sam put the album down and rose from his chair. “Cas?”
The angel didn't wait for any more of a greeting, he merely walked over and hugged the man tightly. “Your brother told me to wish you a happy birthday.” He felt Sam shudder and then knew he was crying. “It is all right, Sam.”
“I... it....” Sam didn't know if he should be angry, upset or somehow overjoyed at this visit. He was on the verge of a full breakdown as he felt the angel hug him tighter. “I miss him, Cas. I miss him a lot.”
“He misses you too, Sam.” Castiel had already decided he wasn't going to shed a lot of information about what Dean was doing in Heaven. Humans, Dean had told him, never completely lost their need for comfort or affection. He didn't want to seem greedy or selfish about the incident, although knowing that Dean was at peace and wouldn't suffer again should be enough for Sam to accept and go on living. Then again, Sam was far too much like his father to just take a deep breath and do that.
“I didn't really get to say good-bye.” Sam sniffled and relaxed his grip a little. “Stupid, I know...”
“It is not stupid.” Castiel let out a breath. “Dean knows you would have been there, had you known.”
Sam made a sound between a snort and a sob. “Are you going to be angry if I said I would rather still have him here?”
The angel drew away and looked him in the eye. “If Dean were still alive, he would still be riddled with the disease that claimed his life. Asking for him to still be here is akin to asking him to continue to suffer because you do not want to be without your brother.”
“That's not entirely what I mean, Cas... I... I wanted him to get better.” Sam suddenly felt ashamed. “I just...”
“There are few siblings as close as you and Dean were, as you continue to be, even though he is no longer here. It is only natural that you wish you could still spend time with him, that you could still know that he was always there. The time has come for you to stand without your brother, to keep moving forward because you know that is what he wants you to do. You cannot continue to live while clinging to your brother's shadow.”
Sam saw back down in his chair, rubbing his face. “It's not easy, Cas.”
“No one said it was going to be. The only easy thing in this world is falling down the first time you try to walk.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It is a well documented fact that every single member of the mammal class, from bats to humans will fall on their first attempt at walking. Even quadrupeds have this issue.”
“Oh shit, you're sounding like Dr. Spock again.” Sam groaned.
“Which Dr. Spock are you referring to, Samuel? The pediatrician Benjamin Spock or the Star Trek character portrayed by Leonard Nimoy?”
“I don't....” Sam stopped short. “Since when the hell do you know about Star Trek?”
“Doesn't everyone of a certain age know of it?” Castiel held out his hands in a slight shrug. “I am merely stating a fact. I fail to see what I have in common with a Vulcan. Vulcans function on pure logic. If I were to function on that alone, then your brother and I would...”
“Stop.” Sam interrupted him. “Just don't go any further into that. Please.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm trying, Cas. I really am. Some days... some days are harder than others. This one started out so easy and then, it just hit me. How I managed to get through all of dinner and dessert, I don't know.”
“It will always be this way, although it will get better with time.” Castiel sat down on the couch, looking down at his hands. “I spent many hours of the past seventeen years feeling much the way you do now. That there would be no end. That things would not get better. However, time progressed and the bad hours were soon fewer and longer periods of time passed between them.”
“They say the first year is the hardest,” Sam said, more to the floor than to the angel.
“A fair assessment.”
Sam studied his own hands for a moment, focusing mainly on the gold band on his left hand. “Dean tell you he started going to church after - well, you know?”
“He went to listen to the music. I am in agreement that music tends to be the one thing most religions have gotten right.” Castiel smiled slightly. “Your brother found faith through dealing with loss. Perhaps you should try and do the same.”
“Maybe.” He looked up. “Though, no offense Cas, I don't think I'll be walking into a church any time soon.”
“All humans who find faith find it in their own ways.”
“There you go, being all philosophical again. I bet you and Pastor Jim get along great.”
“James Murphy and I have not had many opportunities in which to talk. However, you are correct, we do get along quite well.”
Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “I don't suppose you're going to make a habit of showing up here, are you?”
“No Sam.” The angel stood. “I will not. I have told you that you must go forward in life without your brother. You must go on without my help as well. I will watch over you from time to time, though beyond that, it is highly unlikely that I will contact you like this again.”
“Could - could you do something for me, Cas?”
“What is it?” The angel tilted his head to the side, studying Sam intently.
“Just give Dean a hug from me. And from the kids. They miss their uncle too.”
Castiel smiled. “Of course I can do that for you.” He took a step forward and gently tapped the man's forehead, sending him instantly into slumber. “Good-bye, Sam.” With a fluttering of wings, the angel was gone.
**
Liam hadn't been down this particular corridor in what seemed like forever. He remembered every stone in the floor, every door, each a little different from those that bordered it. Although he'd not been in any of the other rooms in this part of Heaven, he knew they were almost all the same. It didn't matter where the room was, they all had windows on all four sides and were done in warm tones. He'd slid down this corridor with other fledglings in stocking feet, laughing when they fell into a pile at the end, a mass of feathers and a tangle of arms, wings and legs. He knew it'd be a long time before he came to this place. Well, if two years could be considered long. The friends he made here were all off to various parts of Heaven, and some he'd seen and others he had no idea where they'd gone. When he at last came to the heavy, carved wooden door that was his destination, he stopped and slid his hand over the smooth wood. He remembered the patterns in the grain of wood. The weird curved shape that made him think of a thin person sitting on a very fat cushion, the curved one near the top that looked like the moon - and then there was that ornate bronze knob that was carved with flowers. He nudged the door open and found the room within to be in shadow, indicating that its occupants were sleeping. He looked up the corridor once more before slipping into the room and shutting the door.
Almost immediately, something brushed against his grace, seeking him out to determine if he was a threat. Liam let out a breath and reached out with his own, not as brash or as strong, but timidly, ready to bolt if needs be. He took a step closer to the nest, frowning when he got all the way up to the small dais it was on before the grace pushed at him again, letting him know that it was an involuntary action. The grace's owner was deep in slumber. He took two more steps and could see into the shallow area clearly. There were four occupants; his Papa was sleeping on one side, his wing spread out over two others protectively. His Dad slept on the other side, snoring softly. Between them, all Liam could make out was a mass of blond and a hint of white. “What...” At the sound of his voice, the fourth occupant, the German Sheppard he recognized as Scully, sat up, looked at him for a moment and then laid back down.
A few seconds later the middle figure wriggled out of their warm pocket and crawled towards him. Liam crouched down to rest against the lip of the nest as a fledgling, looking to be about the same age as a nine month old infant, came within arm's reach and sat down, leaning on her hands, blinking at him. In the semi-darkness of the room, he could make out the girl's very brown eyes, her blond hair a riot of curls. She then let out a huge yawn that made Liam grin. “You should be sleeping.” The child's response was to hold up her arms and wings, grinning, a silent request to be picked up. Without the support of her arms, she overbalanced and fell flat on her back.
Liam didn't think twice. He immediately picked her up before she could start crying, putting her wings to rights and settling her head against his collarbone. He could remember how Dad used to hold him like that. The girl relaxed against him, spreading out her wings in a semi-hug, while she tucked her arms against her body. The older angel settled against the inside of the nest, feeling the fledgling pushing against his grace with hers, testing to see if it was okay to get comfortable. She let out another yawn and a moment later, settled into sleep against him. He kissed his little sister on the top of her head and pulled his reader out of his pocket, using his other arm to support the girl as he turned it on and found his place in the book he'd been reading.
Castiel woke up not because he sensed that Ellie was no longer resting between him and Dean, but because he sensed someone else was in the nest with them. He rose up onto one arm and looked towards the door-side of the nest and couldn't believe his eyes. “Liam?” His voice was just above a whisper.
Liam looked up from his book. “Good morning, Papa.”
The older angel had to take in the sight for a moment. His son was wearing clothes that he'd only seen on 'specialist' angels, ones like Joshua and Virgil: heather-gray pants and a solid colored shirt that denoted his legion. Not even Zachariah, as leader of his garrison had worn such garments. Although he sensed that what Liam was involved in was something much more benign than any of the other specialist groups that had come and gone in the ranks of the Host. “It is still too early to be up.”
“It is perfectly all right with me if you want to go back to sleep. I do not think the little one is going to want to move any time soon.” He gave his father a sheepish grin.
“Brielle has the habit of waking up and changing locations during the night.” He smiled tiredly. “Rather like someone who used to sleep here did.”
Liam felt his cheeks turn slightly pink and went back to his reading as he heard his papa settle back down into the nest. “I'll try not to wake you again.”
“Do not worry.” Castiel covered a yawn. “Are you on vacation?”
“For several weeks, yes. Someone whom I am to be working with has yet to complete his hours working in the souls department.” Liam smiled. “So I thought I'd come home for a visit.”
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Sam/OFC
Warnings: See Master Post for full list of warnings.
Word Count: 8,163
Summary:There are many sayings for the wants of man: you can't always get what you want, you don't know what you want until it's gone, and most importantly, you don't know what you want until you have it. After averting the Apocalypse, a miracle in the form of an Angel-Human Hybrid and the reorganization of Heaven brings Dean and Castiel both closer together and farther apart than ever before. Dean lives with a broken heart and finds Faith in unexpected places, Sam finds the normal life he's always wanted while on a hunt of all places, and Castiel discovers that God was closer than everyone thought.
Dean didn't think you could sleep in Heaven, but apparently, one could. He knew he'd fallen asleep lying in Cas' arms on that overstuffed couch of Bobby's that he'd not seen in over a decade. Now he was starting to wake up and already he knew he wasn't on that couch any longer. He wasn't sure where he was, other than it was familiar and at the same time, completely foreign. He was warm, that was certain. It was the warmth of a hot bath after a long day, blankets fresh from the dryer, and being wrapped in a lover's arms all at the same time sort of warm. He slowly stretched out, and found no resistance to his movement. “Weird...” He didn't want to try and stand, because he was also aware of the fact that he was moving. He rolled over and looked up and saw nothing but brilliant light. It didn't burn him, yet it was so bright, so amazingly pure, he couldn't make out anything else. There was a soft humming sound that seemed to mix in with the warmth, adding to it and soothing him. “Cas?” He couldn't see him and in that moment he realized why he couldn't see the angel anywhere, because the angel was everywhere.
Blinking once or twice and sitting up, Dean finally made a few things out a little clearer. He was sitting in a pair of cupped hands, hands the size of two-story house. He was overwhelmed and nearly fell back down into the palm he was sitting in, trembling. “Castiel?” He seriously doubted the angel could hear him or even knew he was moving.
“Of course I can hear you, Dean.” Castiel's voice was more of a whisper across his mind (did souls have minds?) than in his ears. “Don't be afraid.”
Dean swallowed hard, still not certain what to make of all this. “I...”
“We'll be there soon.” The angel sounded reassuring, although Dean couldn't fully comprehend all of this.
As he settled back down to rest in the groove he'd been sleeping in, Dean curled up, not wanting to think of how the outside observer might see this. “This is friggin' insane.”
“No one can see us.” There was an odd tremor to the angel's voice, almost as if he couldn't believe that fact.
“You're used to it, I'm not.” Dean curled up into the fetal position, still not assured he was safe. It wasn't that he doubted Castiel's words; however, he'd never liked flying, and didn't think he ever could. He was dead for crying out loud and still scared shitless over flying.
Castiel urged himself forward, racing to reach his destination, not at all comfortable with the emotions pouring off of Dean. It was horrible to think that in a dimension where fear was supposed to be banished from the human psyche, the emotion was starting to overtake the soul in his hands. Through corridors and passageways, around immense buildings humans would never see from the outside, he raced onwards, heading back to the one place he didn't think he'd be back to visit so soon.
Dean was aware when Castiel stopped moving and gently set him down on something warm and supple. A fraction of a second later, the heat he'd known in the angel's hands suddenly seemed to completely fill him and he felt his breath (was he still breathing, exactly?) leave him. It was like being held, kissed, and loved all at the same time. It was everywhere and he slowly opened his eyes as the feeling abated to see the angel sitting over him, one hand on his cheek and the other clamped against his arm, where the hand-print burn scar still resided. Castiel wasn't wearing the tunic shirt that he'd been garbed in back in his Heaven. Those wings, those incredible wings Dean had only seen once were out and the angel was still breathing hard with the adrenaline of their flight. “Where are we?”
The angel brushed a stray strand of hair off of Dean's forehead, noticing a change he wasn't sure if the man himself knew about. Dean's hair was longer now; gone was the military style crew-cut. It wasn't as long as Castiel remembered Sam's being - it might be the fact that Dean's hair had a slight curl to it. “We're home.” He leaned down and kissed the man softly. “Our home.”
Dean blinked once or twice, not knowing quite how to react to that statement. The urge to look around was being outweighed by other things right now. He reached up and pulled Castiel back down towards him. “Less talk, more kissing.”
“No objections to that, Dean.” The angel smiled and let himself get drawn into the kiss he'd been waiting seventeen very, very long years for.
**
Holly walked in to school the Monday after her uncle's funeral against her parent's wishes. She didn't know what she would do even if she did stay home. If she stayed home, it'd only make matters worse. It'd only remind her that her uncle was gone and that he was never coming back. She slammed her locker shut and headed for her first class, head down. People gave her funny looks in the hallways, as if surprised by her presence. She and her brother kept hoping their cousin would make another appearance, however, after almost thirty-six hours, she figured he'd gone back to Heaven or wherever it was he usually lived. Going through the motions of the school day were actually a lot easier than she'd thought they would be, so that by the time rehearsal rolled around, she figured that she'd become numb to the pain.
Holly wasn't counting on the pain being bad until tomorrow. Tuesday was the day she had usually gone to visit Uncle Dean. She shoved a few books into her locker and headed for the theater, stopping short when she saw the director, Ms MacHale, talking to one of the last people she expected to see in her school.
“Oh, there you are Holly. I was just talking with your cousin here.”
Liam gave her a very guarded smile, trying not to show too much emotion in his face.
“Uh...yeah.” She didn't want to say anything about the fact that her cousin was wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing two days ago, and they still looked spotlessly clean. “I didn't know he was going to be here so...”
“It's perfectly alright.” The woman's tone let her know she was ready to override any objection or excuse she might have made. “Pity he has to go back to Ecuador before the end of the week.” She beamed at him. “So he asked if it would be all right if he stayed to watch the rehearsal this afternoon, but only if it is alright with you.”
Holly bit her lip and shrugged. “I guess that'd be okay but seriously... I don't think...”
“I'm going to go let a few other members of the cast know, so they won't wonder why there's a giant sitting in the theater. Call is in twenty minutes.” She turned and strode away.
“Ecuador?” Holly squeaked out. “You told her you live in Ecuador?”
Liam gave her a very mischievous grin and spoke in a flawless New Zealand accent. “I am a missionary to Ecuador, remember? I help people build houses and dig wells.”
“In that case, be sure you tell Hannah Strug what kind of sunblock you use, because her skin's twice as fair as yours is.” She shook her head and walked away.
“Neutrogena SPF eighty-four,” Liam called after her and went into the theater, catching her retort of 'smart-ass' as the door swung shut behind him.
**
Dean woke up slowly, resolving to try and stop thinking about how exactly things worked in Heaven, and found that Castiel was also dozing lightly. He rolled over onto his back to see the ceiling of the room they were in was high above him, at least twenty feet or more. The dark mahogany wood beams were a sharp contrast to the buttery-yellow color of the rest of the walls. There were windows up there too, all of them open, letting in a gentle breeze that even with the distance between him and them ruffled his hair just enough to be noticed. He frowned, slowly counting the windows, a grand total of sixteen of them, and if there was wall space between each of them, the room he was currently in had to be enormous. He lifted himself to a sit, mindful of Castiel's wing, which was still draped over him. The bed, or whatever they were in, stood in the middle of the room, which was square and looked to be around fifty by fifty feet. There was one door in the entire room and it was normal sized, so Dean figured that they'd either flown in here via the window or it was more complicated than he'd thought. The floors were the same butter color as the walls, and upon inspection, Dean saw that he was looking at some kind of stone, either granite or marble. The bed-thing was on a wooden platform that was raised up from the floor several feet, hence making it seem a little sunken. The only other furniture he could see in the room was a small footstool a few feet away and a coat rack on which hung another tunic like the one Castiel had been wearing, except it didn't have sleeves. “What the...”
Castiel opened his eyes and looked up at Dean, smiling. “You're awake.”
“Yeah.” Dean ran a hand through his hair, his face contorting slightly when he took in what they were lying in. “Are we in a frickin' nest?”
The angel frowned. “Yes. Is something wrong with that?”
“Angels sleep in nests?”
“Did you think angels slept in beds when they were in their homes?” Castiel sat up and stretched slightly. “I'll admit I've not been here in a long time.”
Dean let out a breath. “So this is where you and Liam lived, huh?”
“Yes.” Castiel rested his head against Dean's shoulder, a slight slump to his stature. “We did.”
In response, he gave the angel a one armed hug and kissed his forehead. “He came to see me before - before I got here.”
Tension seemed to melt off Castiel and he sat up a little straighter. “Did he?”
“Yeah.” Dean gave him a smile. “Said he'd come and see us as soon as he could. Whatever soon means to angels, that is.”
“He... he remembers both of us, not just you?” Castiel said incredulously.
“Yeah. Though I don't know if you'll recognize him when you first see him, 'cause I sure didn't. Then again, in my defense, I was pumped full of pain killers at the time.”
The angel let out a sound that was half laugh, half cry. “I don't believe it.” He pulled Dean into a tight hug. “That's supposed to be impossible.”
He let out a snort in response. “In case you've forgotten, Winchesters have a habit of not doing what they're supposed to do.”
The angel laughed softly and wrapped his wings around Dean as well. “That you do.”
Dean rested his head on Cas' shoulder, snuggling close to him. “So this is your home, huh?”
“Our home, Dean.” The angel corrected him, rubbing the man's back in slow circles. “Though we can't stay here forever, we can stay here together for periods of time.”
“Don't know if I could look at these walls forever, Cas.” He kissed the angel's neck. “And some time is better than no time.”
“An optimistic answer. Something I didn't think you ever gave.” The angel pulled away just enough to lift Dean's chin and look into his eyes. “What else have you been up to since I saw you last?”
“Rebuilt some cars, broadened my music tastes and turned down a lot of dates.” Dean's smile was almost sheepish.
“Broadened your music tastes how, exactly?” Castiel gave him wry expression. “Was there, I believe the term is... revival... of the classic hard rock genre?”
“Na, classic rock is called classic for a reason. Though I did go to the final concert of The Who. Led Zeppelin had theirs in London and much as I love Zep, I wasn't getting on a plane. Particularly one flying over the ocean.” Dean closed his eyes again. “Told you I started listening to that choir music Liam liked so much.”
Castiel smiled and kissed his forehead. “We all found our ways to get through the past seventeen years. I think I've listened to more books than I ever thought of reading, although I have yet to select a favorite from among them.”
“Sorry I freaked out over the flying thing a little while ago.”
“No, Dean. The fault was mine. I should have prepared you better.”
“I don't think it was the flying so much as the...” Dean struggled to find the right words. “Don't take this the wrong way, but waking up in a giant pair of hands would freak just about anyone out, living or dead.”
The angel nodded. “Understandable.” He held Dean closer to him. “Would you object to trying it again sometime?”
He thought for a moment. It was true, he'd been a little more overwhelmed with his surroundings and waking up already in mid-flight than the actual flying. “No, no I wouldn't.” He gave Castiel a smile. “Just, not any time real soon, okay?”
“Okay.” Castiel pulled them back down to the floor of the nest. “I prefer this right now anyway.”
Dean laughed. “No objections here, Castiel. No objections to this ever.”
**
Sam went back to work on the eighth of November, after almost an entire month off. He'd not trusted himself to not fall apart again until the second had passed. Over the following weeks he slowly slid back into the routine he'd had before Dean moved to Blue Springs. Life wouldn't ever be normal again, he knew that. As much as he hated to admit it, Liam had been right. Sam had always labored under the impression that he didn't need family, however, deep down, he'd always needed them - and now, he was without the one thing he'd always come to depend on in life: his big brother. He would have to find a way to adjust to life without Dean - even if at times it seemed utterly impossible. Thanksgiving was approaching rapidly, and he knew it'd be a hard one. The first holidays were always the hardest, he'd been told. It was going to be one of the Thanksgivings where just part of the family showed up in Atchison, so at least there would be some comfort in the fact that he wouldn't have to answer the same questions over and over.
“Sam?” Gina's voice brought him back to reality. “Could you pass the pepper please?”
“Sure.” He took the shaker and handed it to her. “How many of these have we gone to now?”
Gina laughed softly. “This makes nineteen for you.” She grinned as she turned her attention to her plate. “I never thought I'd be working for this company for twenty-five years.”
“I didn't think we'd be having the same chicken and potato dish at every employee banquet we've attended in this place.”
The coworker of Gina's sitting at the table next to Sam burst out laughing. “I thought it looked familiar!”
Gina shook her head in response and passed the salt to the person sitting next to her. “Honestly, Sam...”
“No, I'm serious. I've eaten at a Denny's in all of the lower forty-eight and even they don't crank out food as cloned as this dish is.” Sam stabbed a chunk of his meat. “Though I will say, in its defense, it hasn't been served cold in at least eleven years.”
Gina set her fork down, starting to chuckle. “Everything was cold eleven years ago! That blizzard came out of nowhere!” She took a drink of water to try and control her mirth.
“Augh, that was awful,” the man sitting on the other side of the table added. “I'd say it was a good thing we didn't have it over in the banquet room at the Platte City Best Western that year. I still can't believe they didn't cancel it.”
“This was almost as bad. I mean, sure, home's just a few miles away, but in that weather? Forget it.” Sam shook his head. “We all had to stay here for the night. Our neighbor was watching Holly, and she called right after the power went out in our neighborhood to tell us that she was going to take her over to her house for the night. If we hadn't talked to her, they never would have gotten Hols to fall asleep.”
“They did cancel the dinner...” Gina set her glass down. “The directors had a short meeting and said we'd get together for a nice breakfast in the morning. So we had an awards banquet with doughnuts and fruit cups.”
Sam listened as the employees went on talking about that harrowing winter banquet, only half listening as he ate his dinner. In a few days, it would be the one month anniversary of Dean's death.
He just had to keep moving forward, one step at a time.
*
Daniel often wished his grandparents would make a bigger deal about Thanksgiving, so they didn't always have to go to Atchison. However he knew that deep down, he shouldn't complain. The food was always great, there was always plenty of it, and best of all, plenty of relatives who didn't ask him stupid questions like what grade he was in school now - because the Winchester side actually bothered to remember - and all those other irritating questions that seemed to crop up at family gatherings on his mom's side of the family. He leaned his chin on his hand, watching the scenery fly past. “You think it's going to snow?”
Sam shook his head. “They're calling for flurries - I don't think there will be any accumulation if it does snow.”
In the seat next to Daniel, Holly frowned at her reader, running her finger back and forth to turn the page. “The mother in this book is so annoying...”
“What are you reading, honey?” Gina looked over her shoulder at her daughter.
“Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. I mean, I don't get how these books got to be so popular thirty years ago.”
Sam snorted. “Thirty years ago the fiction for kids your age was horrible. There was nothing original or entertaining, Harry Potter was something new.” He glanced at the girl in the rear-view mirror. “You're reading that for school?”
“Yeah.” She sighed and leaned back in her seat. “I just... it's weird.”
“Weird is one way of putting it.” Gina smiled. “Is there something you don't understand?”
“Yeah. Why is a book geared toward ten year olds on the list of books I'm supposed to read before I graduate?”
“Hey!” Daniel interjected.
“Wait until you get to the Russian authors. Then you'll be wishing for the good books with Harry and all of his friends.” Sam chuckled. “Still can't believe it's taken you this long to read that series.”
“Not a fan of science fiction and fantasy, Dad. I mean, I have to be the only person in this family who hasn't read the entire Narnia series.” Holly snorted and went back to her book.
Daniel rolled his eyes. “You have no idea what you're missing with that.”
“Yeah yeah, ” Holly replied, keeping her eyes on her reader.
*
Daniel thought the best and the worst thing about Thanksgiving this year was that no one mentioned Uncle Dean. It was as if his death had swept him under the rug and out of all conversation, the same with his grandparents, various cousins who'd not been seen in years - it was just like he didn't exist. Daniel was glad that no one mentioned him in that the pain was still very fresh, yet he was angry that no one even wanted to ask how his dad was doing. How he was doing. It was pretty obvious to him and Holly that all the other kids their age were avoiding the subject with them. He'd sort of been hoping that Liam would make an appearance for dinner; however considering it'd taken seventeen years for the guy to show up the last time, it was a lost cause.
When they came home, Daniel waited until his parents were both in their room before going down the hall to his sister's room. “Hols?” He knocked once. “Can I come in?”
Holly opened the door to admit her brother, looking perplexed. “Something wrong?”
Daniel took the book he'd been carrying out from under his arm and held it out to her. “Have you seen this?”
The girl took the offered book, took one glance at it and went white. “This is Granddad's journal. You're not supposed to read that!”
“Too late.” He sat down in his sister's desk chair. “Hols, is that... stuff in the book, are they true?”
“You mean - about monsters?” Holly sat down on her bed, sighing.
“Yeah. Dad says monsters aren't real. According to that, they are. Who's telling the truth?”
Holly set the journal down and took a deep breath. “I can't tell you that, Danny.”
“Why not?”
“Because I promised Uncle Dean I wouldn't. Not until you're old enough. Heck, Dad doesn't even know that I know about this.”
“I'm ten, Hols. That's older than Dad was, according to...”
“According to what?” A voice came from the doorway and both kids jumped. Sam stood there, taking the scene in. It was almost like looking into the past. Two kids, and an unopened journal he'd not seen in years lying next to his eldest. “Holly Deanna Winchester, where did you get that?”
“Uncle Dean gave it to me.” This was the truth. He'd given it to her after making her promise not to tell Daniel about any of what was in it until he was at least thirteen.
“Dad, it's my fault,” Daniel interjected before their father could reprimand his sister. “I took it out from where Hols had it hidden.”
Sam sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. “You aren't supposed to know about - ”
“Monsters?” Holly offered.
“I didn't want you two knowing about them.” He came over and shooed Daniel out of the desk chair and sat down in his place as the boy scrambled to sit next to his sister. “How much of that book have you read. And tell the truth.”
“Almost all of it,” Holly said. “Some of it's kind of hard, cause Granddad had horrible handwriting.”
“First few years...” Daniel answered. “I got to the part about... uh... that teacher in New Mexico and got scared. That's why I came to talk to Holly.”
Sam had never, ever wanted to have this conversation with his children. He wanted this part of the Winchester's life sealed and forgotten. “Before I start to explain all of this, Holly, did your uncle tell you about Liam? About where he really was the past seventeen years?”
“Liam's been in New Zealand,” Daniel said, looking stunned. “Where else would he have been?”
“Yeah. Uncle Dean told me about Liam and about Castiel.”
“Who's Castiel?”
“Castiel is a long story.” Sam set his father's journal on Holly's desk. “And we will get to him eventually. Because he's a very big part of this story.” He took a deep breath and began at the most logical place he could think of. “Around thirty years ago, I was living in Palo Alto, in California, going to Stanford University. I hadn't seen your uncle Dean in four years, when one night he broke into my apartment to talk to me...”
**
Castiel wasn't quite sure how he felt about the current 'addition' to the home. Until recently he'd thought that pets getting into Heaven was a myth - or that the ones who appeared in the Heavens of humanity were mere projections of the ones that had existed on Earth. However, this dog - who never made any attempt to move from her spot just outside the nest - was either the most obstinate animal that ever existed or just didn't like him very much. “I still do not understand why you named this dog Scully.”
Dean was dozing in the nest behind him. “I didn't name her Scully. The person who had her first named her that. Figured they were either X-Files fans or just thought the name was good.”
“I do not understand why she prefers the floor to being up here with you. She is your dog, Dean.” The angel watched as the dog came closer to the side of the nest and lay down just under where he was leaning against the side. “I thought if you had such a dog, she would sleep where you did.”
“Sculls always slept by my bed, never on it. It was a training thing.” Dean slowly sat up, mindful of the fourth occupant of the room. “And furthermore, she's not stubborn Cas, she's a Winchester.”
The angel gave him a look. “That explains much.” He reached down and rubbed the dog behind the ears, which seemed to be exactly what the dog wanted in the first place. “It is not that I object to her presence, Dean, it is just that I do not know what to make of her.”
“She's a dog, Cas. She's not that complicated. She spent seven years working, and the first two years of her life training for that work. She's kind of like you in that regard.”
He gave the man an offended look. “What does that mean?”
“It means that now that she no longer has to work, she has no idea what she's supposed to do. All she's ever known is work, more or less. All you knew for the longest time was work and when you tripped into unfamiliar territory, you weren't sure how to handle it.” He sighed. “I don't mean it in a bad way, Cas.”
“I understand what you're trying to say, Dean.” He smiled in response. “I am glad she was around to take care of you.”
“Scully's a good dog. Give her a few weeks and she'll probably start wanting to play as much as a puppy.”
Scully had sat up and was nudging at Castiel's now still hand and the angel complied by rubbing her behind the ears again. “She's also very demanding.”
“Na, she's not demanding. She is just long overdue for some serious attention and affection. I don't think she got much of that during the few months of retirement she had.” He rubbed his face. “You need to rest.”
“As do you.” Castiel turned. “I do not think a dog as loyal as this one should have to sleep on the floor.” He rubbed Scully's ears again.
“You get settled first and then I'll get Scully up here. She's still getting to know you.” Dean was stating a fact. The dog had only been with them for a few days and had been oddly cautious around the angel. Scully rarely trusted strangers right off.
The angel returned to a niche in the soft floor of the nest and stretched his wings once before laying down, curling himself around the egg that had made an appearance several days ago, draping one arm over it.
Dean smiled at the sight and called his dog. He watched as the animal scrambled over the lip of the nest with ease and came to lie down on his other side. “Good girl.” He rubbed her once before lying back down, draping his arm against the egg so he could hold Castiel's hand. Almost instantly, he felt a familiar tiny little push against his mind, something that still made him feel a little uncomfortable. “Cas? Why does she keep doing that?”
Castiel smiled and squeezed Dean's hand as he felt the familiar nudge against him. “She's using her grace to keep track of her surroundings.”
“Reassurance sort of thing?” Dean replied sleepily.
“Exactly.” The angel rubbed the back of Dean's hand with his thumb, humming softly.
Dean felt the dog settle down against his back and then thump her tail twice. “I think our girl just figured out how to give an ear rub via the mind.”
“I would not be surprised.” Castiel smiled and rested his head against the egg, making a soft cooing noise. “I remember telling you the other day that since I named Liam, it is only fair that you get to name this child.”
“I know, Cas.” Dean yawned. “I know it's only been a few days, but I was thinking of Brielle.”
The angel frowned slightly. “Brielle?”
“It's a nice name.” Dean rested his head against the egg, mirroring Cas' position. “What's wrong with it?”
“There's nothing wrong with it. I was merely perplexed because of what the name means.”
“Well, if it bothers you, we'll call her Ellie for short.” Dean felt another nudge against his mind. “See, she likes it.”
Castiel squeezed Dean's hand again. “I guess she does,” he said as he felt the same touch against his grace. “I have a feeling she's going to be quite the handful.”
“Wouldn't have her any other way, Cas,” Dean replied.
**
After watching the books gather dust, Sam came to the conclusion that he couldn't keep them in his house any longer. It took Sam exactly ten months, three weeks and five days to go through the entire contents of Bobby's book collection to check for stray papers, notes and other miscellaneous items. He had enlisted the help of Holly and Danny, who'd been more than happy to help him. Over those many months and weeks, he'd told them a lot more than he planned to, much more than he ever really wanted to. At first, he'd felt betrayed that his older brother had told his daughter the truth. After some reflection, Sam realized that it was better for the kids to know and not stumble into it, the way his own father had. He started from the beginning and told them about how he and Dean grew up, about monsters, about Jo and Ellen, about their Uncle Bobby and of course, he told them what he could about their Uncle Castiel. They'd had questions about some of the parts, thankfully none of them related to Ruby. Although he'd not gone into great detail with her - they seemed to accept the 'she was very manipulative and I was out of my mind with grief' as being believable. He prayed that they never asked for more details in regards to her.
The spare contents of the books turned out to be a large quantity of notes, the earliest dated 1978 and the most recent 2025. There were also seventeen letters, eight playing cards and two hundred and fifty dollars, made up mostly of one dollar bills.
He wrote letters to various members of the library board and the directors, and now the Robert Singer Special Collection was getting the dust-free, temperature-controlled home it had always deserved at the Lewis and Clark Library in Kansas City. When Gina had first told him about the new destination library that was being built, Sam had been surprised. Her employer already had three other destination libraries, one of which Gina worked at. However this one was to be a little different than the others. It would focus solely on special collections from around the country and the world. It'd be similar to the genealogical branch, which Sam translated to 'no kids under fifteen allowed' - a rule that he sometimes thought unfair, and other times practical. The library would be solely for research and research alone.
Perhaps the most shocking thing to Sam was the fact that it was being built in an area that thirty years ago, had been completely decimated by crime. Those days were long past, just from looking around the parking lot. He'd taken off work early to join the other people who'd donated collections to the library for a special tour before its official grand opening. He hurried up the steps and paused to look back out over the lot when he reached the top, his eyes focused on the backs of the statue of the library's namesakes, Clark's hand pointed northward. Down below the lot, in a hollow where there used to be stores and motels, the land had been given back to nature and was now full of prairie grass and wildflowers. Sam thought it was a very nice touch. He smiled at the mural of the history of Kansas City painted on this side of the noise wall that separated the grassland from the off-ramp of the highway.
Still smiling to himself, Sam turned and headed to the front doors. Today was his fiftieth birthday. Twenty-five years ago, he'd just wanted to live to see twenty-six. He knew that when he got home tonight, he could expect some kind of special dinner or something. Gina was big into birthdays.
*
That night, Sam couldn't sleep. After lying awake for several hours, hearing Gina's even breathing in bed next to him all the while, he got up, careful not to wake her and headed down to the family room. He took one of the heavy photo albums from the shelf and sat down in the overstuffed chair next to the fireplace. He knew full well why sleep was eluding him and getting this book out was nothing more than feeding the pain that was slowly building in his chest, but he had to do it. A good cry and then he knew he'd be able to sleep. One good long cry. He opened the book and stared down at the first page. Mom and Dad standing in front of the Impala. Dad was in a very ugly suit that was synonymous with the seventies and Mom was wearing a floral dress with an empire waist, holding a bouquet of white lavender and holly. Flowers for protection and defense.
Sam sighed and went through the pictures that came to him via his uncles. Mom and Dad in front of their first house, then came the baby pictures of his older brother. All smiles and freckles, someone who Sam didn't know. The Dean he'd known had been, for the most part, cautious and serious and didn't have the big grin he had in many of the pictures. He was staring down at what had to be Dean's third Christmas, judging from the pregnant state of Mom, and wondering, of all things, if that shiny black tricycle his brother was sitting on had been destroyed in the fire when he heard a rustling sound. He slowly raised his head and at the same time, heard a voice he'd not heard in over twenty years.
“Hello, Sam.”
Sam put the album down and rose from his chair. “Cas?”
The angel didn't wait for any more of a greeting, he merely walked over and hugged the man tightly. “Your brother told me to wish you a happy birthday.” He felt Sam shudder and then knew he was crying. “It is all right, Sam.”
“I... it....” Sam didn't know if he should be angry, upset or somehow overjoyed at this visit. He was on the verge of a full breakdown as he felt the angel hug him tighter. “I miss him, Cas. I miss him a lot.”
“He misses you too, Sam.” Castiel had already decided he wasn't going to shed a lot of information about what Dean was doing in Heaven. Humans, Dean had told him, never completely lost their need for comfort or affection. He didn't want to seem greedy or selfish about the incident, although knowing that Dean was at peace and wouldn't suffer again should be enough for Sam to accept and go on living. Then again, Sam was far too much like his father to just take a deep breath and do that.
“I didn't really get to say good-bye.” Sam sniffled and relaxed his grip a little. “Stupid, I know...”
“It is not stupid.” Castiel let out a breath. “Dean knows you would have been there, had you known.”
Sam made a sound between a snort and a sob. “Are you going to be angry if I said I would rather still have him here?”
The angel drew away and looked him in the eye. “If Dean were still alive, he would still be riddled with the disease that claimed his life. Asking for him to still be here is akin to asking him to continue to suffer because you do not want to be without your brother.”
“That's not entirely what I mean, Cas... I... I wanted him to get better.” Sam suddenly felt ashamed. “I just...”
“There are few siblings as close as you and Dean were, as you continue to be, even though he is no longer here. It is only natural that you wish you could still spend time with him, that you could still know that he was always there. The time has come for you to stand without your brother, to keep moving forward because you know that is what he wants you to do. You cannot continue to live while clinging to your brother's shadow.”
Sam saw back down in his chair, rubbing his face. “It's not easy, Cas.”
“No one said it was going to be. The only easy thing in this world is falling down the first time you try to walk.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It is a well documented fact that every single member of the mammal class, from bats to humans will fall on their first attempt at walking. Even quadrupeds have this issue.”
“Oh shit, you're sounding like Dr. Spock again.” Sam groaned.
“Which Dr. Spock are you referring to, Samuel? The pediatrician Benjamin Spock or the Star Trek character portrayed by Leonard Nimoy?”
“I don't....” Sam stopped short. “Since when the hell do you know about Star Trek?”
“Doesn't everyone of a certain age know of it?” Castiel held out his hands in a slight shrug. “I am merely stating a fact. I fail to see what I have in common with a Vulcan. Vulcans function on pure logic. If I were to function on that alone, then your brother and I would...”
“Stop.” Sam interrupted him. “Just don't go any further into that. Please.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm trying, Cas. I really am. Some days... some days are harder than others. This one started out so easy and then, it just hit me. How I managed to get through all of dinner and dessert, I don't know.”
“It will always be this way, although it will get better with time.” Castiel sat down on the couch, looking down at his hands. “I spent many hours of the past seventeen years feeling much the way you do now. That there would be no end. That things would not get better. However, time progressed and the bad hours were soon fewer and longer periods of time passed between them.”
“They say the first year is the hardest,” Sam said, more to the floor than to the angel.
“A fair assessment.”
Sam studied his own hands for a moment, focusing mainly on the gold band on his left hand. “Dean tell you he started going to church after - well, you know?”
“He went to listen to the music. I am in agreement that music tends to be the one thing most religions have gotten right.” Castiel smiled slightly. “Your brother found faith through dealing with loss. Perhaps you should try and do the same.”
“Maybe.” He looked up. “Though, no offense Cas, I don't think I'll be walking into a church any time soon.”
“All humans who find faith find it in their own ways.”
“There you go, being all philosophical again. I bet you and Pastor Jim get along great.”
“James Murphy and I have not had many opportunities in which to talk. However, you are correct, we do get along quite well.”
Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “I don't suppose you're going to make a habit of showing up here, are you?”
“No Sam.” The angel stood. “I will not. I have told you that you must go forward in life without your brother. You must go on without my help as well. I will watch over you from time to time, though beyond that, it is highly unlikely that I will contact you like this again.”
“Could - could you do something for me, Cas?”
“What is it?” The angel tilted his head to the side, studying Sam intently.
“Just give Dean a hug from me. And from the kids. They miss their uncle too.”
Castiel smiled. “Of course I can do that for you.” He took a step forward and gently tapped the man's forehead, sending him instantly into slumber. “Good-bye, Sam.” With a fluttering of wings, the angel was gone.
**
Liam hadn't been down this particular corridor in what seemed like forever. He remembered every stone in the floor, every door, each a little different from those that bordered it. Although he'd not been in any of the other rooms in this part of Heaven, he knew they were almost all the same. It didn't matter where the room was, they all had windows on all four sides and were done in warm tones. He'd slid down this corridor with other fledglings in stocking feet, laughing when they fell into a pile at the end, a mass of feathers and a tangle of arms, wings and legs. He knew it'd be a long time before he came to this place. Well, if two years could be considered long. The friends he made here were all off to various parts of Heaven, and some he'd seen and others he had no idea where they'd gone. When he at last came to the heavy, carved wooden door that was his destination, he stopped and slid his hand over the smooth wood. He remembered the patterns in the grain of wood. The weird curved shape that made him think of a thin person sitting on a very fat cushion, the curved one near the top that looked like the moon - and then there was that ornate bronze knob that was carved with flowers. He nudged the door open and found the room within to be in shadow, indicating that its occupants were sleeping. He looked up the corridor once more before slipping into the room and shutting the door.
Almost immediately, something brushed against his grace, seeking him out to determine if he was a threat. Liam let out a breath and reached out with his own, not as brash or as strong, but timidly, ready to bolt if needs be. He took a step closer to the nest, frowning when he got all the way up to the small dais it was on before the grace pushed at him again, letting him know that it was an involuntary action. The grace's owner was deep in slumber. He took two more steps and could see into the shallow area clearly. There were four occupants; his Papa was sleeping on one side, his wing spread out over two others protectively. His Dad slept on the other side, snoring softly. Between them, all Liam could make out was a mass of blond and a hint of white. “What...” At the sound of his voice, the fourth occupant, the German Sheppard he recognized as Scully, sat up, looked at him for a moment and then laid back down.
A few seconds later the middle figure wriggled out of their warm pocket and crawled towards him. Liam crouched down to rest against the lip of the nest as a fledgling, looking to be about the same age as a nine month old infant, came within arm's reach and sat down, leaning on her hands, blinking at him. In the semi-darkness of the room, he could make out the girl's very brown eyes, her blond hair a riot of curls. She then let out a huge yawn that made Liam grin. “You should be sleeping.” The child's response was to hold up her arms and wings, grinning, a silent request to be picked up. Without the support of her arms, she overbalanced and fell flat on her back.
Liam didn't think twice. He immediately picked her up before she could start crying, putting her wings to rights and settling her head against his collarbone. He could remember how Dad used to hold him like that. The girl relaxed against him, spreading out her wings in a semi-hug, while she tucked her arms against her body. The older angel settled against the inside of the nest, feeling the fledgling pushing against his grace with hers, testing to see if it was okay to get comfortable. She let out another yawn and a moment later, settled into sleep against him. He kissed his little sister on the top of her head and pulled his reader out of his pocket, using his other arm to support the girl as he turned it on and found his place in the book he'd been reading.
Castiel woke up not because he sensed that Ellie was no longer resting between him and Dean, but because he sensed someone else was in the nest with them. He rose up onto one arm and looked towards the door-side of the nest and couldn't believe his eyes. “Liam?” His voice was just above a whisper.
Liam looked up from his book. “Good morning, Papa.”
The older angel had to take in the sight for a moment. His son was wearing clothes that he'd only seen on 'specialist' angels, ones like Joshua and Virgil: heather-gray pants and a solid colored shirt that denoted his legion. Not even Zachariah, as leader of his garrison had worn such garments. Although he sensed that what Liam was involved in was something much more benign than any of the other specialist groups that had come and gone in the ranks of the Host. “It is still too early to be up.”
“It is perfectly all right with me if you want to go back to sleep. I do not think the little one is going to want to move any time soon.” He gave his father a sheepish grin.
“Brielle has the habit of waking up and changing locations during the night.” He smiled tiredly. “Rather like someone who used to sleep here did.”
Liam felt his cheeks turn slightly pink and went back to his reading as he heard his papa settle back down into the nest. “I'll try not to wake you again.”
“Do not worry.” Castiel covered a yawn. “Are you on vacation?”
“For several weeks, yes. Someone whom I am to be working with has yet to complete his hours working in the souls department.” Liam smiled. “So I thought I'd come home for a visit.”