Message in the Music 5/Finale
Title: Message In the Music 5/Finale
Author: Hevyyd
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, past Lucier/Castiel
Spoilers: none
Themes: AU, Fallen!Cas, Mute!Dean, Not-a-Hunter!Dean
WARNING: Character death
Word Count: 2,463
Summary: Dean has always been able to hear things no one else can, but his gift has cost him the life his father wanted for him, making him a disappointment to his family legacy. Forced to live a domestic life while his younger brother and father save lives and claim all the glory, Dean's life is soon changed when an angel falls from Heaven.
( Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 )
I never really knew what love was. I had never been in love, never even had someone that I liked. I mean, I loved my family, but that isn't the same. I guess that's why Cas took me by surprise, how I fell so hard, so fast. But when I woke up in bed with him the next morning, wrapped in one another's arms, I knew that giving him my virginity last night wasn't a mistake.
I knew that I was in love.
I felt like I was one with the whole world, that Cas and I were small cogs in the giant wheel of fate, meant to slot together just right, that we were destined to be. I knew that Castiel had shown me soul-deep trust last night when he asked me to become one with him, and I knew we would be mates for life. Mates. Just thinking the word made my chest swell with pride, made my breath warm and my skin tingle with satisfied certainty in how just and right it was.
If only we could have had just a little more time.
Dean and Castiel had spent the majority of the day being as lazy as possible, lounging naked in their shared bed. Dean had never been so comfortable with himself and his body then when he was around Cas, and he could only imagine that his angel felt the same way. The two of them were reading through all of Dean's journals. They were Dean's most intimate possessions and he wanted Castiel to read them aloud while he lay in his angels lap. He wanted to give Castiel his innermost thoughts, a doorway into his heart, mind, and soul.
The same way Castiel had let him in their first night as mate's.
They were interrupted by a rapt scratching on the window of their bedroom. Dean quickly sat up and opened the window as a carrier pigeon flew in, a note tied to it's leg. When did we get a carrier pigeon? Were Deans first thoughts, quickly followed by, cool! A carrier pigeon! His glee quickly faded as he unfurled the note and read it.
Dean, it's your father.
He didn't make it out of his last hunt with Sam in good shape,
I know your probably still angry with him but please, I need you here.
John needs him family, all of us.
I need you to be there too, just in case he...
The rest of the words were blotched out, probably from where Mary had cried on the note. Dean had never known his mother to cry easily, so this had to be bad, really bad. Quick as a flash Dean leapt out of bed and began to dress himself, leaving Castiel bewildered as the angel picked the note up and read it. "Do you mean to return to your father?" Castiel asked.
He's family Cas. Dean signed.
"He also hurt you gravely, I don't know if I could forgive one of my brothers or sisters if they had hurt me the way John hurt you." Castiel said, his mind immediately going to Lucifer. He had looked so sad when Castiel turned him down, so penitent...
You only get one family Cas, Dean signed again, looking at Castiel with passion in his eyes, Dad doesn't have to forgive me, or accept me, but this time I will make him SEE that I love him, no matter what.
"Do you want me to come with you?" Castiel asked, hoping perhaps maybe John could accept him too.
I'm sorry Cas, I need to do this alone. I'll be back soon.
And then Dean was gone.
--
A week passed with no word from Dean, no message, nothing. At first Castiel didn't mind, took it as a good sign even that Dean had not been chased away by his father. Eventually he began to worry, Dean had been so adamant about acceptance, about forgiveness, about family. Castiel didn't know if he could ever trust Lucifer again, but despite his failings the archangel had never lied to him. Castiel's Grace was waning in Dean's absence, and as the days rolled by his thoughts returned to Lucifer more and more and more.
The thought of losing Dean was unbearable, but killing his precious human in order to sustain his life was even worse. Perhaps he should consider forgiveness...
On the eighth day with no word from Dean, Castiel rowed out to the middle of the lake and waited. It wasn't long before the scent of burnt cedar filled his nostrils and the flutter of enormous wings alerted him the Lucifer's presence. "Hello Castiel." The archangel said softly, as though a whisper.
"Hello Lucifer."
He turned to face the archangel, who had a sad, pained look in his eyes. Averting his gaze, Lucifer looked away. "I'm sorry for what happened with Dean Castiel, about him leaving the day after you gave your heart to him." Castiel's blood ran cold but he held himself steady.
"Dean will return to me Lucifer, he is visiting his father is all."
"Then why hasn't he sent word?" Lucifer asked.
Castiel had no answer, merely hanging his head. Had he been a fool this entire time? Blinded by his need for life and the light of Dean's soul? Everything was so twisted and confused and only Lucifer seemed to know the answer anymore. "Do you know what happened?" Castiel whispered.
"Come with me Castiel." Lucifer said, "To Dean's home, there are events unfolding you need to see." The archangel held out his hand to Castiel, as glorious as he had always been, and Castiel believed.
--
John had been under for over a week, fighting for his life from a grievous injury. He and Sam had been hunting a Crossroads Demon to save the soul of a man who had sold it to save his wife's life from a fatal disease. Though Sam and John had managed to corner the demon, it had summon a Hell Hound to attack them while it escaped, and John. Dean chocked silently, unable to think on it anymore. When Mary had told him she broke down in tears and clung to her eldest son tightly while Same stood by, silently ashamed of his failure.
The Hell Hound had torn John's throat open.
There was nothing any of them could do but sit and wait, the healers had done their best to mend the wound and now all they could do was pray. Mary was a wreck, neighbors would stop by to offer their condolences for John as though he was already dead and after a while Mary would simply turn them away and weep. Sam was at a loss for what to do and, for the first time in his life, moped about the house like one of the waking dead.
It took all of Dean's strength not to collapse under the weight of his family, all of his courage and will to keep the house clean, the meals cooked, to keep going out to help Ellen, or Bobby, or whomever needed his help every day. At night he would hold himself tightly and wish for Castiel, for his warm skin against his, his breath, his scent. Dean's bed was cold and lonesome without Castiel in it, and he had never felt so alone.
After eight days John finally awoke. He was weary, but alive, his fever having broken during the night. If nothing else John Winchester would not be put down in the grave by some dog, forces of hell or not. Mary went in to see him first and wept tears of joy for her husbands recovery, followed immediately by a world-class talking to about stupid and risky behaviors that rocked the house like a tidal wave.
Sam went in to see his father next, and the two men sat in relative silence, holding one another's hands and smiling. John happy to be near his boy again, and Sam grateful that his father would live to see another day. Finally Dean crept carefully into his fathers bedroom, when he saw the extent of the damage that had been done to his father, the man he had always fashioned as invincible, his eyes glassed over.
John bore deep scars across his throat, angry, tan, and thick like ropes.
He expected John to yell and chase him away like he had promised to, and Dean hung by the door carefully, full of fear of his fathers wrath. Instead John look at Dean with eyes filled with pity, tears, and something Dan couldn't quite describe. His father stood up slowly and walked halfway towards Dean, a peace offering perhaps? Dean slowly walked the other half of the room and stood face-to-face with his father.
Are you okay? Dean signed.
John did not respond.
Can you speak?
Dean reeled in pain as John's fist collided with the side of Dean's face, heavy and hard, with the sound of John's rage behind it. Dean steadied himself, unwilling to be knocked off of his feet, and glared at his father, expecting rage. Instead, John just looked sad, almost on the verge of tears. Dean righted himself and closed his eyes, bringing his hands to either side of his fathers face. As he touched his father another fist slammed into Dean, this time striking his ribs. Dean careened again but refused to be knocked down.
Standing off to the side, Sam rushed to Dean's side, only to have Mary stop him, her eyes wet with tears. "You can't baby," she whispered to Sam, "John's needed this for a long, long time. They both have"
Dean had heard John's voice, he was certain of it, even though he knew that his father could no longer speak, was mute, like him. He had heard to loud and clear as his father had struck him, the song of his fathers soul reaching out and clashing against his son through his fists, the only true way that John could express himself.
Dean knew what he had to do.
Bracing himself, Dean pulled his father into a tight embrace, crushing John to himself as he buried his face in the hollow of his fathers neck, his fathers fists came flying again, striking his ribs, his kidneys, his arms, his stomach, his chest, any place the old man could reach. Every strike sounded with another mournful sound from Johns soul. Every blow and another year between then faded, another wall came down. John beat his son for minutes on end, he and Dean sobbing as father battered against the walls of avoidance and doubt and fear he had built, trying desperately to reach his son.
WHAM. I was a fool Dean.
WHAM. How could I have failed you Dean?
WHAM. Why didn't I listen?
WHAM. How could I have been so blind?
WHAM. I'm so sorry Dean.
WHAM. God I'm so sorry Dean.
WHAM. Please forgive me Dean.
WHAM. Please take me back Dean.
WHAM. Please let me be your father again.
WHAM. I love you so much boy.
Eventually nothing more could be said, John's blows were thrown with the force of a toddler, he could barely touch Dean anymore, his energy spent. The older man sank to his knees and sobbed in silence, Dean right beside him. Sam looked on in confusion and wonder while Mary cried happily, she couldn't hear the silent conversation between them, but she knew. After a long while Dean looked up at his father and raised John's chin to meet his gaze.
I forgive you. I still love you daddy. Mommy still loves you and Sammy still loves you, so no more tears, ok? Dean signed, his eyes bloodshot and his face stained with tears. Sam and Mary crossed the room and knelt down, joining them in their embrace. The four of them sat in silence, the Winchester family was whole once again.
--
Castiel and Lucifer watched the entire event unfold, invisible and soundless. Tears ran down Castiel's face as watched the scene unfold before him, silently Lucifer took Castiel's hand and squeezed it tight. Castiel looked over to see that the archangel was crying too. "Please forgive me Castiel." Lucifer whispered, clutching the angels hand tighter, "Please let me make it right. Come home with me, let me get your wings healed, have your Grace placed back where it belongs."
You only get one family Cas.
"You only get one family Cas." Lucifer said softly, his words echoing Dean's, causing Castiel to shiver. "Please, I don't want to lose you. I know you love Dean but your killing him, and yourself as well. I just, I just can't watch that happen." Lucifer's eyes glistened as he pulled Castiel in close, kissing him tenderly, lovingly. "But I will always be here, by your side, your mate." He smiled warmly to Castiel, then whispered in his ear.
"If you love him, let him go."
Castiel sobbed for a long time, the sheer amount of emotion he had endured in the last hour more than he could ever hope to bear. Silently he held Lucifer close and nodded to the arch angel in agreement.
--
Dean rode home as fast as he could, hoping to return to the arms of his love and tell him the news. But as he approached the house his blood ran cold. He realized he couldn't hear Castiel. The lights were dark and nobody was home, but the sound of Castiel's Grace was gone from this place, as though it had never been there. He ran into the house as fast as he could, throwing the door open and searching every room for signs of his life, of Cas.
He was gone.
Dean barely heard the sound of a new Grace, low and sweet like honey, and twice as deadly. Could barely catch the scent of burnt cedar before his heart caught in his chest, his breath lost. He looked down to find a silver blade protruding from his chest, watched in wonder as blood erupted from the wound like a flower. The blade was removed from his chest with a slick sound and Dean crashed to his knees, his vision growing dark.
"Castiel is mine, mud monkey." A soft voice said.
The last sounds Dean heard were of Castiel screaming his name in terror, of the mysterious man roaring with anger. He saw flashes of light, white and red, as his vision darkened. Just before he slipped below the placid waters of death Dean could have sworn he heard the snarl of a Hell Hound. He thought of Cas one last time before letting go, falling into the black void.
If only we could have had just a little more time.