[Fic] DCBB - Hidden Away - Part Five (Final)
Title: Hidden Away
Author: Stolen Childe
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Part Five: “…nothing ever really ends…”
“Chuck? Chuck?! You’re God? Jesus Christ…” Dean muttered, then winced. “Oops.”
“I’ll let it slide this time, Dean,” Chuck smiled kindly. “After all, I know you. But you see, now I have a question for you. It’s almost time to leave, and you will be going back to Purgatory, I can’t change that, but I need to make sure, before you go… I need to make sure you learned.”
“Of course,” Dean said bitterly. “Always a fucking lesson.”
“Of course,” Chuck said lightly.
Dean closed his eyes and sighed. “All right, lay it on me.”
Chuck got up and walked over to a tea caddy sitting against the wall by the crackling fireplace. He was singing to himself as he poured dark liquid into cups, added cream and sugar. Dean listened and was shocked to realize he knew the song.
“And all these words that you meant to say/Held in silence day after day/Words of kindness that our poor hearts crave/Please don’t keep them hidden away. ”
“It was you?” Dean asked. “Did you put that in my head?”
Chuck stilled. “Put what?” He looked as if he was thinking back over the last few minutes before he shook his head, then frowned and said, “No. That was Castiel.”
“That was in my head,” Dean retorted.
Chuck turned and smiled mysteriously. “It was still Castiel.” He carried the cups over towards Dean. They were simple, black porcelain mugs. Chuck handed one to Dean then resumed his seat. Then Chuck just stared across the space between them. Dean took a hesitant sip of his drink, then a more enthusiastic one. That was damn good coffee… Heavenly coffee? Dean shook his head, mentally chastising himself for his wandering thoughts. He was here for a reason. He had to focus. He took another sip. It was still really good coffee.
“You know what you have to look forward to now, right?” Chuck finally said, startling Dean.
Dean looked up.
Chuck sipped his coffee and looked at Dean with level blue eyes. It was uncanny how much Chuck Shurley resembled Jimmy Novak. Dean knew, looking at them now and knowing their connection, that if they told a stranger on the street that Chuck and Cas were related, they would believe it in a heartbeat. Even with the obvious height difference.
“Did you do that on purpose?” Dean asked suddenly, “Find a vessel that looked like Cas’?”
The writer chuckled, “I am Chuck, Dean. I always have been. I was… sleeping for a while. I didn’t awaken until, well, until things got out of hand.”
It was said with some regret and Dean wanted desperately to be as pissed at the former prophet turned freaking God as Castiel apparently was, but it was Chuck. He had helped them out more than once. Despite Castiel’s justified anger, Chuck had intervened when he could. Chuck wasn’t Dean’s dad though, Chuck was Castiel’s. The father who had abandoned his children without even knowing half of them.
“Out of hand? That’s how we’re describing it now?” Dean asked sardonically, then snapped his mouth shut just as suddenly, his eyes widening. “Sorry.”
“Reverence from a Winchester?” Chuck laughed lowly. “I’m shocked.” He quirked a grin at Dean and shrugged it off. “You didn’t answer my question you know.”
“I know,” Dean replied quietly. “I’m not sure. I don’t even know how to get out.”
“Castiel is working on that. He’ll have your answer tonight. Though it will take some finagling to make it happen, but hey, I can swing it,” Chuck said lightly. “How are my grandsons? Why didn’t you bring them?”
“I… What? Grandsons? You aren’t saying that they…”
“Come over here and clean out my supplies of ice cream? Hog my television and raid my kitchen? Sure do. You drop them off sometimes. I, ah… babysat John when he was a just a little guy, that’s actually how you guys found me. Castiel and Sam were busy and I think you were going stir crazy.
“John was only three at the time so you couldn’t take him with you and you couldn’t leave him alone and, well, you called me. Thinking I was still just Chuck. I didn’t realize… I didn’t think John would be able to tell who I was. He did. I didn’t see or hear from any of you for a few years after that. Castiel was… Well, he wasn’t very happy.”
“He’s still not very happy,” Dean said quietly.
“Not with me, no. He lets me see the boys, though,” Chuck shrugged. “He’s grateful for them, if nothing else and I can’t say I blame him.”
“Yeah, well, can’t say I blame him either.”
They continued to drink their coffee in silence; Chuck watched him with an eerily focused gaze and Dean fell deep into thought.
“You were sent here so you could realize that it wasn’t the end, Dean. It wasn’t me who sent you, but the me from your timeline. What happened in your world caused something like a… a pocket? I guess, you could say. We experienced some of it here, a few of the events that happened with Crowley, but not like you did.”
“I know, Cas told me,” Dean replied.
“Some wires seemed to get crossed in your timeline or your free will was just too strong and it changed things. It happened in a way I never could have predicted and that’s saying something.”
“I still don’t know how that’s even possible,” Dean said exasperatedly. “Everything is fucked up beyond reckoning and I just don’t get it! Why does this shit have to happen to me? What did we do to get punished?”
Chuck’s eyes went sad, he put his coffee mug aside and leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees. “You aren’t being punished, Dean. Despite what people think, I can’t control every aspect of life. That would defeat the purpose of it, don’t you think? If I were to leave myself the ability to manipulate you down to the last action then you would be nothing but puppets and free will would be an illusion. Castiel told me something once and, well… It probably made me sadder than anything I can ever remember.”
“Told you?” Dean asked, confused. “I thought he didn’t…”
“He doesn’t anymore,” Chuck shook his head. “Just before things got back on track, in our world, Castiel spoke with me. Looking for guidance, looking in the wrong place, but looking anyway.”
“Wrong place?”
“He shouldn’t have been talking to me,” Chuck whispered. “I’m not the one who saves him over and over again.”
“God, it’s not Lucifer is it?” Dean asked stricken.
Chuck smiled sadly, “No Dean, it isn’t. I may give the pieces the final nudge, but it’s not me, not really.”
“Then who?”
Chuck leaned forward and touched a hand to Dean left shoulder. Dean flinched back and looked at God’s hand on his arm. On his arm, right over a once angry red mark that had faded now to a slightly lighter patch of skin on his upper arm, the shape only discernible if you stared - Castiel’s hand print scar.
“That’s impossible,” Dean scoffed, pulling away from the light pressure of Chuck’s hand.
Chuck settled back in his seat. “A mark like that means something was left behind. Something that shouldn’t have been, but was. When Castiel pulled you out, you traded pieces of yourselves. You carry each other wherever you go. Think about it, you know it’s true.”
Dean didn’t even have to think that hard.
“Your goal is this life you lived for the past week, Dean. You already have the tools you need. When you go back, bring him back. You can, but only if you want it. Really, really want to. You have to let go of everything dark between you before you can stitch the tear back together. If you want those boys, this life, Sam to be healthy, happy and have his little girl, then you have to make it happen.”
“Bobby?” Dean asked desperately. “That shouldn’t have happened. Bobby was supposed to live a long, long time, right? The Leviathans weren’t supposed to get out and if they hadn’t Bobby wouldn’t have died.”
Chuck sighed, his eyes were sad again when he looked up. “I’ll talk to an old friend, Dean, but I’m afraid I owe him one too many favours as it is. It might not work. Though everything else? That you can have, I guarantee it, all you have to do is try. Castiel has returned to you three times already and this fourth time you just need to push a few more pieces into place. All men make mistakes, Dean.”
“Even I in this,” Dean quirked an ironic grin.
“Dean, it’s easier to forgive our enemies than our friends, but we can only forgive as much as we love. If you want that love, if you want this future, you need to wipe the slate clean. Castiel’s been punishing himself quite enough without your help, don’t you think?”
"I can't help. You understand, I can't. I destroyed everything, and I will destroy everything again. Can we please just leave it at that?"
Dean swallowed. “Yeah.”
“So do you know what to do?”
Dean nodded firmly, “Get me back.”
“Tomorrow. You have one more night here, make the most of it.”
The doorbell rang.
“There’s your ride,” Chuck grinned. “He won’t come in. It was nice talking to you again, Dean. I hope you and Castiel make it through. Good luck.”
Dean nodded and slowly put his cup on the coffee table. He stood, hesitated a moment, then began heading to the foyer. Before he reached it, he stopped and turned.
“What did Cas tell you that made you so upset?” Dean asked.
Chuck had that sad, ancient smile on his face again. “It was about freedom, free will,” Chuck answered, “‘Freedom is a length of rope… God wants you to hang yourselves with it.’”
Dean flinched. “When?” he rasped.
“Superman going to the Dark Side,” Chuck replied. “He was so, so miserable, Dean. So scared and alone.”
Dean closed his eyes and nodded once. It’s so simple when you say it like that. Where were you when I needed to hear it? Maybe Dean wasn’t there after all. How could he not have seen it? Dean had a lot of making up to do. He just hoped that for his Cas, it wasn’t too late. Dean had been too late once, but he wouldn’t be again. That he swore right then. Hell he could swear to God - for real, if he so chose.
“I believe you,” Chuck said quietly. “He’s waiting.”
“Ah… thanks, I guess,” Dean said uncomfortably. The green-eyed man gave an awkward little wave and crossed the foyer.
Castiel was waiting on the other side of the door. When Dean swung it fully open, the angel took a step back and waited for Dean to exit.
“I won’t go in,” Castiel said.
“Yeah, I know,” Dean walked out and shut the door behind him. “Did you get it?”
“I… What?” Castiel asked, confused.
Dean shrugged. “Chuck… God… Ah, your Dad said you were working on my great escape. Did you manage?”
Castiel blinked. “Ah… Yes, Gabriel and I have determined a way to get you and your Castiel out of Purgatory… As for returning you to your timel-”
“Tomorrow,” Dean interrupted, he nodded behind him at the house. “It’s taken care of.”
Castiel waited a beat then said softly, “Oh. I didn’t think… I see. That’s good.”
“Home?” Dean asked with a smile.
“Yes,” Castiel held out his hand, which Dean took, then stepped further into the angel’s arms. If Castiel held him just a bit harder and maybe a tad longer than he had to, well, Dean felt no need to question it.
The hunter closed his eyes tight and shifted his hold to Castiel’s sweater, fists clenched in the soft material. He heard a crackle as the air broke around them, a great sweep of impossibly large wings and then with a sickening lurch he landed, hard, rocking uneasily into Castiel.
“Jesus Christ,” Dean muttered. “Angel Express is one thing, but Archangel Express? Shit man, it’s like getting hit by a bus every fucking time.”
“Ah… Dean,” Castiel coughed.
“Huh?” Dean pulled back. Castiel gestured with his head to the side, Dean turned and grimaced.
“Hey, Johnny! Just ignore everything I just said,” Dean laughed.
“Dude, not the first time I heard you swear,” John shrugged.
“Doesn’t mean he should if you’re around,” Castiel said firmly.
“And normally, I’m sure I wouldn’t,” Dean retorted with a tight smile and a glare.
“You’d be surprised,” Castiel drawled.
“Okay, weird,” John remarked casually, then slid off the couch, closing his book. “I’m going to bed now. Just wanted to wait to say goodnight.”
Castiel crouched and John gave him a quick hug.
“Good night, my son,” Castiel said softly.
John turned and hugged Dean’s waist tight, squeezing with all of his youthful strength. Obviously, the boy was still a little more than shaken up over Dean’s near death experience and abrupt departure.
Dean squeezed back, holding John tight for a long moment until he felt the boy’s arms relax.
“Night, Monkey,” Dean ruffled the child’s hair before releasing him entirely.
John waved over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hall.
“So ah… when I disappeared… Did you guys…?” Dean began.
“We were informed,” Castiel replied. “Father told us as he was taking you. He said you two needed to talk and not to be concerned.”
“Yeah,” Dean answered distractedly.
Dean wandered around the living room, looking at pictures and books on the shelf. He felt Castiel’s eyes on him but didn’t turn or speak. Dean wanted a chance to remember this house, a chance to make it happen for himself if he and Cas ever got back - No, when they got back.
He stopped at one of the bookcases bracketing the mantelpiece and noticed a framed photograph he must have overlooked before. It was beautiful.
It was dark, but Dean could make out the three figures in it clear enough. The paved path they were on was lined with white paper lanterns suspended on tall poles. In the background rose a fair ground, the Ferris wheel brightly lit and rising high above the rest of rides and booths. Behind the Ferris wheel Dean made out flashes of light: multi coloured fireworks, blue, red, white flashed in the sky, ghostly through the camera lens. In the middle of it all walked Castiel, Dean, and a younger John on Dean’s shoulders. Castiel was looking up at his son, a faint smile on his lips, John was slumped over Dean’s head, clearly asleep or halfway there.
“Fourth of July about - my goodness, seven years ago now. You and Sam insisted we go to the carnival the town was holding in celebration. I was uncertain of it. Back then I wasn’t too fond of crowds but you managed to talk me into it. You manage to talk me into a lot of things,” Castiel said fondly. He was standing right behind Dean, chin nearly resting on the green-eyed man’s shoulder. “Sam took it.”
“We look so happy,” Dean said softly, almost not able to believe it.
“Yes. We are, you know… happy. I’m not just making all this stuff up. Please don’t let the rockier parts you’ve heard about fool you. We may have fallen into our family accidently but it seems to suit us well enough. You mustn’t give up hope that you’ll get this one day, and soon perhaps.
“I think, I think a long time ago, even before you met me and before you knew about the horror of your past and your life, you gave up on feeling happy. Maybe you forgot how to be. Maybe that’s why you were sent here, so you could remember and so you’d know it’s okay to be happy. Just because you feel joy, Dean, does not mean the world will suffer for it. We have our life here together, with Sam and our children, but you still do good work. You still help people. After everything, Dean, don’t you think you deserve to indulge your self-gratification? At least a little?”
Dean set the picture back on the shelf with reverence. He turned to Castiel, eyes swimming. “Do you think I deserve it? After everything I’ve done?”
“Dean, even after everything, you still don’t think you deserve to be saved?” Castiel gave a wry smile and raised his brows.
Dean reached out suddenly and grabbed Castiel’s sweater, pulling the deceptively slight man hard against his chest and crushing their mouths together. Castiel made a small muffled sound of surprise against Dean’s lips but that lasted only a second until he was sinking against Dean’s solid, familiar chest and feeling Dean move against him. Castiel allowed it to continue for a few more seconds, having no desire to relinquish this just yet but eventually his logical brain took over and he pushed away, though not entirely. Castiel kept his hands firm against Dean’s chest, feeling the younger man’s heart beat double time against his palm.
“Dean, we don’t have to do this, not if it makes you-” He was cut off by another kiss, “-Oomf.”
“Shut up, Cas,” Dean murmured against the angel’s lips. “I got one night left here, let me have this because I may not get it for a while.”
“Dean,” Castiel muttered back.
“Please?”
“God Dean, yes, whatever you want,” Castiel conceded and it felt like relief. This time he pulled Dean against him and Dean went more than willingly.
The two stumbled through the living room, grazing the corner of the wall as they fumbled down the short hallway until Castiel’s back hit their closed bedroom door, Dean leaned over him and kissed every inch of available skin while he grappled for the doorknob.
“Jesus, fuck, why’d you close the damn door?” Dean panted out.
“Shut up,” Castiel retorted.
Dean had the sudden sense of free fall before his back hit the rumbled bed sheets. He blinked up at Castiel leaning over him and grinned.
“You’re badass, you know that?” Dean remarked.
“I’m aware.”
Dean grinned and quickly flipped them so he had the upper hand, Castiel didn’t even look surprised, rather he looked challenging. The angel’s blue eyes were sparking with barely masked humour as he waited to see what Dean would do next. Suddenly, and kind of ridiculously, Dean felt out of his depth.
For Castiel this was familiar territory, this was probably a basic Thursday night or whatever; for Dean, he hadn’t been really truly intimate with someone for a very, very long time. Dean pulled away.
Castiel reached up quickly and snagged Dean’s shirt, pulling him back down and kissing him languidly, easing Dean’s anxiety with each careful press of his lips. Dean relaxed again finally, resting almost his full weight on the body beneath him and let out a shaky breath once they parted in order for the human to breathe.
“Dean, don’t try to be him, just be you,” Castiel whispered in Dean’s ear. “I’ve only ever been with you, Dean. It’s okay.”
Dean pulled back then suddenly, but this time out of shock. “Shit. No way, just me?”
Castiel gave Dean a flat look. “When exactly would I have had the time to ah… broaden my horizons?” The archangel quirked a brow.
“Oh Man, then I’m a fucking good teacher because a few days ago? Jesus. All right, now I think I’m more intimidated.”
Castiel rolled his eyes. “Shut up. Let me lead then.”
Dean grinned. “Well lead on.”
Castiel pulled Dean back down into another deep kiss and Dean just let himself feel. Castiel kissed deeply and almost aggressively without being unpleasant and Dean found himself moaning around the blue-eyed man’s slick, talented tongue and reciprocating with enthusiasm. It was so strange to be with someone who knew you, it was more than Dean had ever had. Even with Cassie and Lisa they had still been learning one another, but ex-girlfriends were not what Dean wanted to think about right now and he turned his attention back to Castiel with laser focus.
The angel gradually built Dean’s confidence as he let out little pleased noises now and again, and Dean pulled back to explore, trying out some of his old tricks he learned with his Castiel and was more than pleased when the angel arched off of the bed at a particularly accurate nip Dean landed.
“Just like riding a bike,” Dean murmured, pleased with himself.
“Classy,” Castiel drawled, before he flipped them unceremoniously and began kissing down Dean’s chest. The clothes had vanished at some point earlier and Dean had been too absorbed in Castiel’s mouth to realize. Score two for the angel.
When the blue-eyed being reached Dean’s reddened, straining erection, Dean visibly rose from the bed and groaned. It was unexpected and so good. Fuck, was it ever good, but Dean wanted more than that right now and as much as it was an internal battle to reason out his two wants, he conceded to the gentler one and tugged Cas back up.
“Dean?” Castiel asked, puzzled, looking a little uncertain of himself for the first time.
Dean was quick to reassure. “Shh, no I just…” Dean pulled Castiel back towards him and the angel settled easily on the hunter’s chest as they kissed again.
Castiel smiled knowingly and shifted his positions so he could work his hand between their bodies. Castiel positioned them just right so that when their heated dicks brushed together, nestled close in Castiel’s palm Dean’s eyes fluttered as he his moaned and reached for a kiss again.
It was slow, easy, comfortable and perfect as they exchanged intimate kisses and soft moans. It was far gentler than Dean had allowed himself to be in a while and it was also exactly what he needed. However, that didn’t make him turn down the offer when Castiel murmured a careful:
“Want you inside.”
“Fuck, yes,” Dean groaned and kissed his thanks into Castiel’s mouth, shifting them over again so he could fumble across for the lubricant tucked away in their side table.
“Dean,” Castiel panted, “you don’t really-”
“Quiet Cas, I don’t care. I’m not going in that way.”
“No, but I can-”
“Cas, I got this,” Dean cut in with the words followed by another kiss to soothe. “I just want slow. I got this.”
“Good, yes, okay,” Castiel was then nodding eagerly as Dean rolled on top of him and eased his first slick finger into Castiel’s hot entrance. The angel groaned and arched into the touch when Dean slid deeper.
Dean continued to slowly and gently prepare Castiel, soft words interspersed with gentle kisses as Dean worked steadily away until Castiel was a writhing mess beneath him, perfectly wrecked and hovering on the knife’s edge of tumbling into ecstasy. Dean relished the look he put in those near black eyes, dark now with untamed lust.
“Please,” Castiel whispered.
Dean didn’t wait to be asked twice and slicked his cock with more lube before positioning himself between Castiel’s raised legs; he hesitated only briefly, but Castiel’s frustrated glare had Dean pressing forward, slipping comfortably into Castiel’s entrance as a loud moan was torn free of Dean’s throat.
Fuck, it was perfect.
The leisurely pace quickened then, the both of them pushed very nearly to the edge, dispensing with the niceties and focusing their new and entirely mutual focus on the release that would follow. Dean pressed forward and Castiel met him thrust for thrust, their bodies working in perfect unison, slipping into familiar intimacy, exactly where they both belonged.
Dean reached between them , feeling himself close to orgasm, and grasped Castiel’s hot, deep-red erection in hand, stroking in time with his thrusts and then, remarkably, they toppled over the edge in unison. Dean gasped when Castiel cried out and then after a few last desperate thrusts, the green-eyed man collapsed onto Castiel’s chest.
Afterwards, once they had both awoken from a light, blissed-out nap, they lay in bed. Dean was staring at the ceiling, one arm over his head, the other curled around Castiel’s shoulder. The angel rested on his side, facing Dean, chin resting against Dean’s shoulder. Cas pressed the occasional soft, teasing kiss against Dean’s throat but made no move to speak. The blue-eyed man seemed content just to bask in the afterglow.
“I can have this?” Dean whispered, half asleep.
“Yes, I promise,” Castiel answered.
“You said you and Gabriel found how to get my Cas and me out of Purgatory?”
“Mmm,” Castiel nodded. He shifted around and reached over to his discarded jeans, rifling through the pockets until he came up with a small bundle. It was a little velvet bag pulled closed with a silken string. He handed it to Dean. Dean balanced it in his palm, the weight almost familiar.
Dean frowned. “What is it?”
“You do realize the quickest way to discover that, right?” Castiel teased.
Dean rolled his eyes and opened the bag, upending it so the object within tumbled onto his open palm. He stared down at it, slightly in awe of the familiar shape that lived with him for thirteen years. “No way. You seriously didn’t comb through a landfill to get this, did you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Castiel scoffed. “I went and got it from Sam.”
“Sammy?” Dean squeaked.
“Yes, Dean. He’s had it all along. You do recall he was the last to leave the room, right?”
Dean didn’t respond, just stared down at the tarnished little amulet that he thought lost to him forever, tossed away in one rash moment on the tail end of a bitterly spat: It’s useless.
“How is it supposed to help me, though?” Dean closed his hand around it, feeling the small horns bite into his calloused palm.
“You have heard that objects can gather auras onto themselves, right? They carry traces of people who have touched them; that is, if they had a strong affection for the object. This little brass charm is a part of you and continued to be even after you threw it away because Sam kept it as such. It was important for most of your life and I would argue continues to be so, even if you removed yourself from it.
“I imagine, right now, the Sam of your timeline is either wearing it or holding it close, which transfers his energy to it. Gabriel and I deduced, given the strength of your bond with your brother, if you both try at the same time, the force of it may tear open a door which Sam can then use to pull you out of.”
Dean shook his head. “No, Cas, what about everything else that will crawl out with me? How can we risk that, after the hell we went through to get everything back where it belonged? And the bond is between me and Sam, where does that leave my Cas?”
Castiel shook his head slowly and said affectionately, “Dean, have you learned nothing?”
“Hey!” Dean protested automatically, then he thought back to his conversation with Chuck and it clicked. They would act like a chain, with Dean the centre link. Sam to Dean to Castiel and only Sam, Dean and Cas. The bond wouldn’t work with anything else.
“Do you understand now?”
“Y…yeah, but still. How can I know when Sam’s wearing it or holding it? It has to be at the exact same time, right? Or it won’t work?”
“That’s where it becomes challenging,” Castiel admitted.
“I’m listening.”
“I’m going to need to go to Sam. I need to cross the bubble as it were, but there’s no way I could go there physically.”
“Well, I hate to tell you this, Cas, but that doesn’t sound like much of a plan.”
“I’m not done yet,” Castiel said impatiently.
“Please go on.”
“Dream-walking.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean like you did with me?”
Castiel smirked, “Not exactly like with you.”
“Well that’s a relief at least,” Dean winked.
“Gabriel may have to loan me some of his power to make the journey but I should be able to get to Sam and tell him what he needs to do. If I time it exactly with your return to Purgatory I may be able to disrupt the difference in time. It moves different there, right?”
“I don’t know.”
It had seemed to move different, that was for sure, but was it really moving at a slower pace than Earth or did it just feel like that? Dean had at first tried to keep track of days and hours but the light rarely shifted from washed out grey to darker grey to eventual black. There was nothing to track in the sky, no stars that came out at night and no burning sun above their heads just a gradual desaturation of night to day then back again.
He tried to ask Castiel to keep track of the hours, because there was no way Dean was going to sit there counting seconds. Castiel had tried at first, but then his mouth grew pinched and his brow so furrowed that if Dean hadn’t known better he would have sworn the guy had a migraine.
“It’s… difficult. I can’t… It isn’t letting me Dean. Why can’t I?” the angel’s tone had been uncharacteristically desperate, even at his craziest, he hadn’t sounded desperate. There was just that one time Castiel had, after he saved Dean from a demon and promised to find Lisa.
God, the fact that Castiel had even said that in the first place should have been Dean’s indication of how much the angel cared about him. Lisa had never been Castiel’s favourite person.
Dean had eased the anxious angel the best he could and told him not worry about it. It didn’t really matter. Castiel had nodded and gone back to scratching Enochian in the dirt.
“I don’t know,” Dean repeated, returning to this time and place and Castiel could only smile sadly.
“We’ll work it out,” the angel promised. “We should sleep.”
“Yeah,” Dean settled back against the pillows. “Hey, ah… Cas?”
“Yes Dean?”
“Can we, um…” Dean wondered if Castiel could see his flush in the dim light of their bedroom. “Could we do some sort of family thing tomorrow? You know, you, me and the boys? I just… I need a good memory to get me through. I’ve a lot of work ahead of me with fixing you in my timeline.”
Castiel shuffled across the short space between them on the bed and squeezed Dean tight around the chest, leaning up and kissing the younger man’s temple. “Of course.”
xx
Dean found himself sadder than he thought he would be when it was nearing time to say goodbye. They had spent the day doing simple family things - a visit to the park, playing in the backyard, and even a board game for goodness sake. It was also, uncomfortably enough, Sorry. Apparently John had a fondness for the game. Dean didn’t explain the connection, just played on, silently wincing when Castiel had to send a few of his pawns back to the start. It was also helpful in a way, though; Dean saw what his world’s Castiel had been trying to do back then, explaining without explaining.
“I’m sorry, Dean, you have to go back to the beginning,” Castiel said.
“What?” Dean asked, blinking out of his daze.
John snickered.
Mary was ignoring them; she and Sam were playing on a team, after all, the girl was only four. She kept pushing Sam’s pawns around to where they weren’t supposed to be. Dean admired his little brother’s surprising patience with his daughter. Sam was a damn good dad apparently.
Castiel flashed Dean the playing card he had picked up. “The beginning? I got the card that sends you back.”
“Sends me back,” Dean repeated dumbly.
“Dad, are you all right?” John asked curiously.
“Ah, I’ll be better soon, Kiddo,” Dean answered.
Dean. It’s time.
Dean quirked an ironic grin. “The card that sends me back, huh? Back to the beginning.”
“Dean?” Castiel asked.
“Dude, you normally don’t suck this much at this game,” Sam said carefully.
“I’m going to check on Jasper,” Dean pushed away from the table and sent Castiel and Sam a significant look. “Then I’ll follow that card. Just give me a minute.”
All right. Just a minute. Then make your goodbyes, Dean.
“Oh!” Castiel said, eyes widening. “Right, yes.”
xx
Dean felt a little guilty about waking Jasper up, but he wouldn’t leave without saying a proper goodbye. He might not get to meet this little boy again for several years. Jasper had pretty well been the one to get Dean through this ridiculous rollercoaster that had been his life the last weeks.
“Dada?” Jasper muttered sleepily, rubbing his eye and then nuzzling against Dean’s shoulder, half falling asleep again.
“Hey Baby Boy,” Dean murmured. “I just wanted to tell you goodbye and give you one last hug before I go. I’ll see you again though in a few years. Your real daddy will be back soon so it’s not like you’re even gonna notice.”
Jasper lifted his head up, his eyes taking on that impossible age and awareness once again as he met Dean’s gaze. Dean was no baby expert but he was pretty sure kids who weren’t even toddling yet weren’t supposed to have that sort of look to them.
“Better?” Jasper asked.
Dean blinked. “Ah… yeah, yeah. I think I’m better now. I have some work ahead of me, but I can do it. I’m gonna have to if I want to get you.”
Jasper reached out one tiny hand and touched Dean’s chest over his heart once again before settling back against Dean and beginning to coo and sing nonsense - thirteen-month-old once again.
Dean smiled and kissed the baby’s head before settling Jasper back in the crib.
The green-eyed man scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed before exiting the room. He slapped a grin back on his face and headed to the kitchen, running in and gently tackling John off his seat, hugging the boy close and kissing his cheek.
John giggled and rubbed at his cheek once Dean had released him.
“Dad!” John whined, flashing Dean a miniature and adorable version of Castiel’s scowl, then clamouring back on his seat. Dean danced around the table and gave Sam a noogie, then dropped a kiss on Mary’s curls. He stopped at Cas and took the angel’s hand, pulling him off the chair and flashing the rest of his family a wink.
“We’ll be back in a sec, guys. Johnny, take my turn, then you two can keep going. I’m sure we’ll just be a minute.”
“See you in a few, Dean,” Sam said significantly.
“Dad?” John asked.
“It’s cool, Kiddo. We’ll be back,” Dean said and pulled Castiel behind him, out of the kitchen. When he reached their bedroom he shut the door behind him and pulled Castiel into his arms. Castiel brought his own arms up and around Dean, squeezing tightly and pressing their cheeks together.
“You be safe,” Castiel said sternly.
“’Course,” Dean grinned. “Hey, your real Dean will be back soon, so isn’t this a win for you?”
“I like past you,” Castiel smiled gently. “I have missed him though.”
“Understandable,” Dean nodded. “You remember what we talked about though, all right? Just talk to him. Please don’t keep secrets. I don’t want… It’s dangerous.”
“All right,” Castiel agreed firmly. “I promise. I hope, no, I know, you’ll get this one day, Dean. Don’t forget what you have here. You’ll need it to… to bring me back.”
Dean nodded again.
They stood in one another’s arms, quiet for a few breaths, before Dean took the initiative and leaned down to kiss Castiel deeply. Castiel opened his mouth willingly, his arms tightening their hold around Dean. They pulled back after their short exchange and then Castiel grinned.
“See you on the flip-side,” the angel winked.
That startled a laugh out of Dean. “See you.”
“Don’t forget the pendant,” Castiel said hastily, as if just remembering. Dean patted down his jean pockets before he landed on the pendant, still tucked away in its bag.
“Got it,” Dean nodded. All right. I’m ready.
Brace yourself.
Dean felt a tug then, behind his navel, probably close to what was always described in the Harry Potter books when using that teleport thing. It was a jolt and a rush that left him feeling dizzy and out of breath before he came awake.
“You slept for a long time.”
Dean looked over and gasped, shaking in his spot on the hard, damp ground. For one confused moment he was afraid he was back in the dream world, but everything around him just seemed so solid, with none of that floating sort of feeling around him. Just to check, he patted his pocket again and landed on the lump of the charm. They were the clothes he last remembered being in when they first tumbled into Purgatory. His new jacket creaked around him, the firelight reflecting across the leather.
“You needed it,” Castiel added gently.
Dean looked at the angel properly, really looked, and saw somewhat to his surprise that Castiel’s eyes weren’t quite as clouded as they had been in the dream. Castiel seemed to have a better understanding of the world around him. Dean supposed in the real thing, Castiel needed to pull himself, at least somewhat, out of his temporary craziness.
“Hey, Cas,” Dean greeted.
“Hello, Dean.”
“Come here,” Dean said, gesturing with one hand.
“Dean?” Castiel furrowed his brow a little.
“Just come here,” Dean repeated, more insistently.
Castiel scooted towards the hunter, his awkward shuffle evidence that he still wasn’t quite the Castiel Dean had been so familiar with.
“I need you to know, Cas, you and I are solid, all right? That shit? All under the bridge. We’re gonna get out of here and we’re gonna get you better. We have a lot of catching up to do and I’m not letting time slip away again.”
“Dean, I-”
Dean interrupted the angel with a chaste kiss, then pulled him tight to his chest. Castiel startled and was stiff in Dean’s arms.
“You’re important, Cas,” Dean whispered.
Castiel gradually relaxed in Dean’s hold, though his long fingers tightened in the dirty material of the hunter’s shirt.
“Now let’s go home,” Dean said. He closed his eyes, focused as hard as he could, and then with a sigh followed by a crackle and a tear, the sky opened above them.
The End
Previous | Master Post
Author: Stolen Childe
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Part Five: “…nothing ever really ends…”
“Chuck? Chuck?! You’re God? Jesus Christ…” Dean muttered, then winced. “Oops.”
“I’ll let it slide this time, Dean,” Chuck smiled kindly. “After all, I know you. But you see, now I have a question for you. It’s almost time to leave, and you will be going back to Purgatory, I can’t change that, but I need to make sure, before you go… I need to make sure you learned.”
“Of course,” Dean said bitterly. “Always a fucking lesson.”
“Of course,” Chuck said lightly.
Dean closed his eyes and sighed. “All right, lay it on me.”
Chuck got up and walked over to a tea caddy sitting against the wall by the crackling fireplace. He was singing to himself as he poured dark liquid into cups, added cream and sugar. Dean listened and was shocked to realize he knew the song.
“And all these words that you meant to say/Held in silence day after day/Words of kindness that our poor hearts crave/Please don’t keep them hidden away. ”
“It was you?” Dean asked. “Did you put that in my head?”
Chuck stilled. “Put what?” He looked as if he was thinking back over the last few minutes before he shook his head, then frowned and said, “No. That was Castiel.”
“That was in my head,” Dean retorted.
Chuck turned and smiled mysteriously. “It was still Castiel.” He carried the cups over towards Dean. They were simple, black porcelain mugs. Chuck handed one to Dean then resumed his seat. Then Chuck just stared across the space between them. Dean took a hesitant sip of his drink, then a more enthusiastic one. That was damn good coffee… Heavenly coffee? Dean shook his head, mentally chastising himself for his wandering thoughts. He was here for a reason. He had to focus. He took another sip. It was still really good coffee.
“You know what you have to look forward to now, right?” Chuck finally said, startling Dean.
Dean looked up.
Chuck sipped his coffee and looked at Dean with level blue eyes. It was uncanny how much Chuck Shurley resembled Jimmy Novak. Dean knew, looking at them now and knowing their connection, that if they told a stranger on the street that Chuck and Cas were related, they would believe it in a heartbeat. Even with the obvious height difference.
“Did you do that on purpose?” Dean asked suddenly, “Find a vessel that looked like Cas’?”
The writer chuckled, “I am Chuck, Dean. I always have been. I was… sleeping for a while. I didn’t awaken until, well, until things got out of hand.”
It was said with some regret and Dean wanted desperately to be as pissed at the former prophet turned freaking God as Castiel apparently was, but it was Chuck. He had helped them out more than once. Despite Castiel’s justified anger, Chuck had intervened when he could. Chuck wasn’t Dean’s dad though, Chuck was Castiel’s. The father who had abandoned his children without even knowing half of them.
“Out of hand? That’s how we’re describing it now?” Dean asked sardonically, then snapped his mouth shut just as suddenly, his eyes widening. “Sorry.”
“Reverence from a Winchester?” Chuck laughed lowly. “I’m shocked.” He quirked a grin at Dean and shrugged it off. “You didn’t answer my question you know.”
“I know,” Dean replied quietly. “I’m not sure. I don’t even know how to get out.”
“Castiel is working on that. He’ll have your answer tonight. Though it will take some finagling to make it happen, but hey, I can swing it,” Chuck said lightly. “How are my grandsons? Why didn’t you bring them?”
“I… What? Grandsons? You aren’t saying that they…”
“Come over here and clean out my supplies of ice cream? Hog my television and raid my kitchen? Sure do. You drop them off sometimes. I, ah… babysat John when he was a just a little guy, that’s actually how you guys found me. Castiel and Sam were busy and I think you were going stir crazy.
“John was only three at the time so you couldn’t take him with you and you couldn’t leave him alone and, well, you called me. Thinking I was still just Chuck. I didn’t realize… I didn’t think John would be able to tell who I was. He did. I didn’t see or hear from any of you for a few years after that. Castiel was… Well, he wasn’t very happy.”
“He’s still not very happy,” Dean said quietly.
“Not with me, no. He lets me see the boys, though,” Chuck shrugged. “He’s grateful for them, if nothing else and I can’t say I blame him.”
“Yeah, well, can’t say I blame him either.”
They continued to drink their coffee in silence; Chuck watched him with an eerily focused gaze and Dean fell deep into thought.
“You were sent here so you could realize that it wasn’t the end, Dean. It wasn’t me who sent you, but the me from your timeline. What happened in your world caused something like a… a pocket? I guess, you could say. We experienced some of it here, a few of the events that happened with Crowley, but not like you did.”
“I know, Cas told me,” Dean replied.
“Some wires seemed to get crossed in your timeline or your free will was just too strong and it changed things. It happened in a way I never could have predicted and that’s saying something.”
“I still don’t know how that’s even possible,” Dean said exasperatedly. “Everything is fucked up beyond reckoning and I just don’t get it! Why does this shit have to happen to me? What did we do to get punished?”
Chuck’s eyes went sad, he put his coffee mug aside and leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees. “You aren’t being punished, Dean. Despite what people think, I can’t control every aspect of life. That would defeat the purpose of it, don’t you think? If I were to leave myself the ability to manipulate you down to the last action then you would be nothing but puppets and free will would be an illusion. Castiel told me something once and, well… It probably made me sadder than anything I can ever remember.”
“Told you?” Dean asked, confused. “I thought he didn’t…”
“He doesn’t anymore,” Chuck shook his head. “Just before things got back on track, in our world, Castiel spoke with me. Looking for guidance, looking in the wrong place, but looking anyway.”
“Wrong place?”
“He shouldn’t have been talking to me,” Chuck whispered. “I’m not the one who saves him over and over again.”
“God, it’s not Lucifer is it?” Dean asked stricken.
Chuck smiled sadly, “No Dean, it isn’t. I may give the pieces the final nudge, but it’s not me, not really.”
“Then who?”
Chuck leaned forward and touched a hand to Dean left shoulder. Dean flinched back and looked at God’s hand on his arm. On his arm, right over a once angry red mark that had faded now to a slightly lighter patch of skin on his upper arm, the shape only discernible if you stared - Castiel’s hand print scar.
“That’s impossible,” Dean scoffed, pulling away from the light pressure of Chuck’s hand.
Chuck settled back in his seat. “A mark like that means something was left behind. Something that shouldn’t have been, but was. When Castiel pulled you out, you traded pieces of yourselves. You carry each other wherever you go. Think about it, you know it’s true.”
Dean didn’t even have to think that hard.
“Your goal is this life you lived for the past week, Dean. You already have the tools you need. When you go back, bring him back. You can, but only if you want it. Really, really want to. You have to let go of everything dark between you before you can stitch the tear back together. If you want those boys, this life, Sam to be healthy, happy and have his little girl, then you have to make it happen.”
“Bobby?” Dean asked desperately. “That shouldn’t have happened. Bobby was supposed to live a long, long time, right? The Leviathans weren’t supposed to get out and if they hadn’t Bobby wouldn’t have died.”
Chuck sighed, his eyes were sad again when he looked up. “I’ll talk to an old friend, Dean, but I’m afraid I owe him one too many favours as it is. It might not work. Though everything else? That you can have, I guarantee it, all you have to do is try. Castiel has returned to you three times already and this fourth time you just need to push a few more pieces into place. All men make mistakes, Dean.”
“Even I in this,” Dean quirked an ironic grin.
“Dean, it’s easier to forgive our enemies than our friends, but we can only forgive as much as we love. If you want that love, if you want this future, you need to wipe the slate clean. Castiel’s been punishing himself quite enough without your help, don’t you think?”
"I can't help. You understand, I can't. I destroyed everything, and I will destroy everything again. Can we please just leave it at that?"
Dean swallowed. “Yeah.”
“So do you know what to do?”
Dean nodded firmly, “Get me back.”
“Tomorrow. You have one more night here, make the most of it.”
The doorbell rang.
“There’s your ride,” Chuck grinned. “He won’t come in. It was nice talking to you again, Dean. I hope you and Castiel make it through. Good luck.”
Dean nodded and slowly put his cup on the coffee table. He stood, hesitated a moment, then began heading to the foyer. Before he reached it, he stopped and turned.
“What did Cas tell you that made you so upset?” Dean asked.
Chuck had that sad, ancient smile on his face again. “It was about freedom, free will,” Chuck answered, “‘Freedom is a length of rope… God wants you to hang yourselves with it.’”
Dean flinched. “When?” he rasped.
“Superman going to the Dark Side,” Chuck replied. “He was so, so miserable, Dean. So scared and alone.”
Dean closed his eyes and nodded once. It’s so simple when you say it like that. Where were you when I needed to hear it? Maybe Dean wasn’t there after all. How could he not have seen it? Dean had a lot of making up to do. He just hoped that for his Cas, it wasn’t too late. Dean had been too late once, but he wouldn’t be again. That he swore right then. Hell he could swear to God - for real, if he so chose.
“I believe you,” Chuck said quietly. “He’s waiting.”
“Ah… thanks, I guess,” Dean said uncomfortably. The green-eyed man gave an awkward little wave and crossed the foyer.
Castiel was waiting on the other side of the door. When Dean swung it fully open, the angel took a step back and waited for Dean to exit.
“I won’t go in,” Castiel said.
“Yeah, I know,” Dean walked out and shut the door behind him. “Did you get it?”
“I… What?” Castiel asked, confused.
Dean shrugged. “Chuck… God… Ah, your Dad said you were working on my great escape. Did you manage?”
Castiel blinked. “Ah… Yes, Gabriel and I have determined a way to get you and your Castiel out of Purgatory… As for returning you to your timel-”
“Tomorrow,” Dean interrupted, he nodded behind him at the house. “It’s taken care of.”
Castiel waited a beat then said softly, “Oh. I didn’t think… I see. That’s good.”
“Home?” Dean asked with a smile.
“Yes,” Castiel held out his hand, which Dean took, then stepped further into the angel’s arms. If Castiel held him just a bit harder and maybe a tad longer than he had to, well, Dean felt no need to question it.
The hunter closed his eyes tight and shifted his hold to Castiel’s sweater, fists clenched in the soft material. He heard a crackle as the air broke around them, a great sweep of impossibly large wings and then with a sickening lurch he landed, hard, rocking uneasily into Castiel.
“Jesus Christ,” Dean muttered. “Angel Express is one thing, but Archangel Express? Shit man, it’s like getting hit by a bus every fucking time.”
“Ah… Dean,” Castiel coughed.
“Huh?” Dean pulled back. Castiel gestured with his head to the side, Dean turned and grimaced.
“Hey, Johnny! Just ignore everything I just said,” Dean laughed.
“Dude, not the first time I heard you swear,” John shrugged.
“Doesn’t mean he should if you’re around,” Castiel said firmly.
“And normally, I’m sure I wouldn’t,” Dean retorted with a tight smile and a glare.
“You’d be surprised,” Castiel drawled.
“Okay, weird,” John remarked casually, then slid off the couch, closing his book. “I’m going to bed now. Just wanted to wait to say goodnight.”
Castiel crouched and John gave him a quick hug.
“Good night, my son,” Castiel said softly.
John turned and hugged Dean’s waist tight, squeezing with all of his youthful strength. Obviously, the boy was still a little more than shaken up over Dean’s near death experience and abrupt departure.
Dean squeezed back, holding John tight for a long moment until he felt the boy’s arms relax.
“Night, Monkey,” Dean ruffled the child’s hair before releasing him entirely.
John waved over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hall.
“So ah… when I disappeared… Did you guys…?” Dean began.
“We were informed,” Castiel replied. “Father told us as he was taking you. He said you two needed to talk and not to be concerned.”
“Yeah,” Dean answered distractedly.
Dean wandered around the living room, looking at pictures and books on the shelf. He felt Castiel’s eyes on him but didn’t turn or speak. Dean wanted a chance to remember this house, a chance to make it happen for himself if he and Cas ever got back - No, when they got back.
He stopped at one of the bookcases bracketing the mantelpiece and noticed a framed photograph he must have overlooked before. It was beautiful.
It was dark, but Dean could make out the three figures in it clear enough. The paved path they were on was lined with white paper lanterns suspended on tall poles. In the background rose a fair ground, the Ferris wheel brightly lit and rising high above the rest of rides and booths. Behind the Ferris wheel Dean made out flashes of light: multi coloured fireworks, blue, red, white flashed in the sky, ghostly through the camera lens. In the middle of it all walked Castiel, Dean, and a younger John on Dean’s shoulders. Castiel was looking up at his son, a faint smile on his lips, John was slumped over Dean’s head, clearly asleep or halfway there.
“Fourth of July about - my goodness, seven years ago now. You and Sam insisted we go to the carnival the town was holding in celebration. I was uncertain of it. Back then I wasn’t too fond of crowds but you managed to talk me into it. You manage to talk me into a lot of things,” Castiel said fondly. He was standing right behind Dean, chin nearly resting on the green-eyed man’s shoulder. “Sam took it.”
“We look so happy,” Dean said softly, almost not able to believe it.
“Yes. We are, you know… happy. I’m not just making all this stuff up. Please don’t let the rockier parts you’ve heard about fool you. We may have fallen into our family accidently but it seems to suit us well enough. You mustn’t give up hope that you’ll get this one day, and soon perhaps.
“I think, I think a long time ago, even before you met me and before you knew about the horror of your past and your life, you gave up on feeling happy. Maybe you forgot how to be. Maybe that’s why you were sent here, so you could remember and so you’d know it’s okay to be happy. Just because you feel joy, Dean, does not mean the world will suffer for it. We have our life here together, with Sam and our children, but you still do good work. You still help people. After everything, Dean, don’t you think you deserve to indulge your self-gratification? At least a little?”
Dean set the picture back on the shelf with reverence. He turned to Castiel, eyes swimming. “Do you think I deserve it? After everything I’ve done?”
“Dean, even after everything, you still don’t think you deserve to be saved?” Castiel gave a wry smile and raised his brows.
Dean reached out suddenly and grabbed Castiel’s sweater, pulling the deceptively slight man hard against his chest and crushing their mouths together. Castiel made a small muffled sound of surprise against Dean’s lips but that lasted only a second until he was sinking against Dean’s solid, familiar chest and feeling Dean move against him. Castiel allowed it to continue for a few more seconds, having no desire to relinquish this just yet but eventually his logical brain took over and he pushed away, though not entirely. Castiel kept his hands firm against Dean’s chest, feeling the younger man’s heart beat double time against his palm.
“Dean, we don’t have to do this, not if it makes you-” He was cut off by another kiss, “-Oomf.”
“Shut up, Cas,” Dean murmured against the angel’s lips. “I got one night left here, let me have this because I may not get it for a while.”
“Dean,” Castiel muttered back.
“Please?”
“God Dean, yes, whatever you want,” Castiel conceded and it felt like relief. This time he pulled Dean against him and Dean went more than willingly.
The two stumbled through the living room, grazing the corner of the wall as they fumbled down the short hallway until Castiel’s back hit their closed bedroom door, Dean leaned over him and kissed every inch of available skin while he grappled for the doorknob.
“Jesus, fuck, why’d you close the damn door?” Dean panted out.
“Shut up,” Castiel retorted.
Dean had the sudden sense of free fall before his back hit the rumbled bed sheets. He blinked up at Castiel leaning over him and grinned.
“You’re badass, you know that?” Dean remarked.
“I’m aware.”
Dean grinned and quickly flipped them so he had the upper hand, Castiel didn’t even look surprised, rather he looked challenging. The angel’s blue eyes were sparking with barely masked humour as he waited to see what Dean would do next. Suddenly, and kind of ridiculously, Dean felt out of his depth.
For Castiel this was familiar territory, this was probably a basic Thursday night or whatever; for Dean, he hadn’t been really truly intimate with someone for a very, very long time. Dean pulled away.
Castiel reached up quickly and snagged Dean’s shirt, pulling him back down and kissing him languidly, easing Dean’s anxiety with each careful press of his lips. Dean relaxed again finally, resting almost his full weight on the body beneath him and let out a shaky breath once they parted in order for the human to breathe.
“Dean, don’t try to be him, just be you,” Castiel whispered in Dean’s ear. “I’ve only ever been with you, Dean. It’s okay.”
Dean pulled back then suddenly, but this time out of shock. “Shit. No way, just me?”
Castiel gave Dean a flat look. “When exactly would I have had the time to ah… broaden my horizons?” The archangel quirked a brow.
“Oh Man, then I’m a fucking good teacher because a few days ago? Jesus. All right, now I think I’m more intimidated.”
Castiel rolled his eyes. “Shut up. Let me lead then.”
Dean grinned. “Well lead on.”
Castiel pulled Dean back down into another deep kiss and Dean just let himself feel. Castiel kissed deeply and almost aggressively without being unpleasant and Dean found himself moaning around the blue-eyed man’s slick, talented tongue and reciprocating with enthusiasm. It was so strange to be with someone who knew you, it was more than Dean had ever had. Even with Cassie and Lisa they had still been learning one another, but ex-girlfriends were not what Dean wanted to think about right now and he turned his attention back to Castiel with laser focus.
The angel gradually built Dean’s confidence as he let out little pleased noises now and again, and Dean pulled back to explore, trying out some of his old tricks he learned with his Castiel and was more than pleased when the angel arched off of the bed at a particularly accurate nip Dean landed.
“Just like riding a bike,” Dean murmured, pleased with himself.
“Classy,” Castiel drawled, before he flipped them unceremoniously and began kissing down Dean’s chest. The clothes had vanished at some point earlier and Dean had been too absorbed in Castiel’s mouth to realize. Score two for the angel.
When the blue-eyed being reached Dean’s reddened, straining erection, Dean visibly rose from the bed and groaned. It was unexpected and so good. Fuck, was it ever good, but Dean wanted more than that right now and as much as it was an internal battle to reason out his two wants, he conceded to the gentler one and tugged Cas back up.
“Dean?” Castiel asked, puzzled, looking a little uncertain of himself for the first time.
Dean was quick to reassure. “Shh, no I just…” Dean pulled Castiel back towards him and the angel settled easily on the hunter’s chest as they kissed again.
Castiel smiled knowingly and shifted his positions so he could work his hand between their bodies. Castiel positioned them just right so that when their heated dicks brushed together, nestled close in Castiel’s palm Dean’s eyes fluttered as he his moaned and reached for a kiss again.
It was slow, easy, comfortable and perfect as they exchanged intimate kisses and soft moans. It was far gentler than Dean had allowed himself to be in a while and it was also exactly what he needed. However, that didn’t make him turn down the offer when Castiel murmured a careful:
“Want you inside.”
“Fuck, yes,” Dean groaned and kissed his thanks into Castiel’s mouth, shifting them over again so he could fumble across for the lubricant tucked away in their side table.
“Dean,” Castiel panted, “you don’t really-”
“Quiet Cas, I don’t care. I’m not going in that way.”
“No, but I can-”
“Cas, I got this,” Dean cut in with the words followed by another kiss to soothe. “I just want slow. I got this.”
“Good, yes, okay,” Castiel was then nodding eagerly as Dean rolled on top of him and eased his first slick finger into Castiel’s hot entrance. The angel groaned and arched into the touch when Dean slid deeper.
Dean continued to slowly and gently prepare Castiel, soft words interspersed with gentle kisses as Dean worked steadily away until Castiel was a writhing mess beneath him, perfectly wrecked and hovering on the knife’s edge of tumbling into ecstasy. Dean relished the look he put in those near black eyes, dark now with untamed lust.
“Please,” Castiel whispered.
Dean didn’t wait to be asked twice and slicked his cock with more lube before positioning himself between Castiel’s raised legs; he hesitated only briefly, but Castiel’s frustrated glare had Dean pressing forward, slipping comfortably into Castiel’s entrance as a loud moan was torn free of Dean’s throat.
Fuck, it was perfect.
The leisurely pace quickened then, the both of them pushed very nearly to the edge, dispensing with the niceties and focusing their new and entirely mutual focus on the release that would follow. Dean pressed forward and Castiel met him thrust for thrust, their bodies working in perfect unison, slipping into familiar intimacy, exactly where they both belonged.
Dean reached between them , feeling himself close to orgasm, and grasped Castiel’s hot, deep-red erection in hand, stroking in time with his thrusts and then, remarkably, they toppled over the edge in unison. Dean gasped when Castiel cried out and then after a few last desperate thrusts, the green-eyed man collapsed onto Castiel’s chest.
Afterwards, once they had both awoken from a light, blissed-out nap, they lay in bed. Dean was staring at the ceiling, one arm over his head, the other curled around Castiel’s shoulder. The angel rested on his side, facing Dean, chin resting against Dean’s shoulder. Cas pressed the occasional soft, teasing kiss against Dean’s throat but made no move to speak. The blue-eyed man seemed content just to bask in the afterglow.
“I can have this?” Dean whispered, half asleep.
“Yes, I promise,” Castiel answered.
“You said you and Gabriel found how to get my Cas and me out of Purgatory?”
“Mmm,” Castiel nodded. He shifted around and reached over to his discarded jeans, rifling through the pockets until he came up with a small bundle. It was a little velvet bag pulled closed with a silken string. He handed it to Dean. Dean balanced it in his palm, the weight almost familiar.
Dean frowned. “What is it?”
“You do realize the quickest way to discover that, right?” Castiel teased.
Dean rolled his eyes and opened the bag, upending it so the object within tumbled onto his open palm. He stared down at it, slightly in awe of the familiar shape that lived with him for thirteen years. “No way. You seriously didn’t comb through a landfill to get this, did you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Castiel scoffed. “I went and got it from Sam.”
“Sammy?” Dean squeaked.
“Yes, Dean. He’s had it all along. You do recall he was the last to leave the room, right?”
Dean didn’t respond, just stared down at the tarnished little amulet that he thought lost to him forever, tossed away in one rash moment on the tail end of a bitterly spat: It’s useless.
“How is it supposed to help me, though?” Dean closed his hand around it, feeling the small horns bite into his calloused palm.
“You have heard that objects can gather auras onto themselves, right? They carry traces of people who have touched them; that is, if they had a strong affection for the object. This little brass charm is a part of you and continued to be even after you threw it away because Sam kept it as such. It was important for most of your life and I would argue continues to be so, even if you removed yourself from it.
“I imagine, right now, the Sam of your timeline is either wearing it or holding it close, which transfers his energy to it. Gabriel and I deduced, given the strength of your bond with your brother, if you both try at the same time, the force of it may tear open a door which Sam can then use to pull you out of.”
Dean shook his head. “No, Cas, what about everything else that will crawl out with me? How can we risk that, after the hell we went through to get everything back where it belonged? And the bond is between me and Sam, where does that leave my Cas?”
Castiel shook his head slowly and said affectionately, “Dean, have you learned nothing?”
“Hey!” Dean protested automatically, then he thought back to his conversation with Chuck and it clicked. They would act like a chain, with Dean the centre link. Sam to Dean to Castiel and only Sam, Dean and Cas. The bond wouldn’t work with anything else.
“Do you understand now?”
“Y…yeah, but still. How can I know when Sam’s wearing it or holding it? It has to be at the exact same time, right? Or it won’t work?”
“That’s where it becomes challenging,” Castiel admitted.
“I’m listening.”
“I’m going to need to go to Sam. I need to cross the bubble as it were, but there’s no way I could go there physically.”
“Well, I hate to tell you this, Cas, but that doesn’t sound like much of a plan.”
“I’m not done yet,” Castiel said impatiently.
“Please go on.”
“Dream-walking.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean like you did with me?”
Castiel smirked, “Not exactly like with you.”
“Well that’s a relief at least,” Dean winked.
“Gabriel may have to loan me some of his power to make the journey but I should be able to get to Sam and tell him what he needs to do. If I time it exactly with your return to Purgatory I may be able to disrupt the difference in time. It moves different there, right?”
“I don’t know.”
It had seemed to move different, that was for sure, but was it really moving at a slower pace than Earth or did it just feel like that? Dean had at first tried to keep track of days and hours but the light rarely shifted from washed out grey to darker grey to eventual black. There was nothing to track in the sky, no stars that came out at night and no burning sun above their heads just a gradual desaturation of night to day then back again.
He tried to ask Castiel to keep track of the hours, because there was no way Dean was going to sit there counting seconds. Castiel had tried at first, but then his mouth grew pinched and his brow so furrowed that if Dean hadn’t known better he would have sworn the guy had a migraine.
“It’s… difficult. I can’t… It isn’t letting me Dean. Why can’t I?” the angel’s tone had been uncharacteristically desperate, even at his craziest, he hadn’t sounded desperate. There was just that one time Castiel had, after he saved Dean from a demon and promised to find Lisa.
God, the fact that Castiel had even said that in the first place should have been Dean’s indication of how much the angel cared about him. Lisa had never been Castiel’s favourite person.
Dean had eased the anxious angel the best he could and told him not worry about it. It didn’t really matter. Castiel had nodded and gone back to scratching Enochian in the dirt.
“I don’t know,” Dean repeated, returning to this time and place and Castiel could only smile sadly.
“We’ll work it out,” the angel promised. “We should sleep.”
“Yeah,” Dean settled back against the pillows. “Hey, ah… Cas?”
“Yes Dean?”
“Can we, um…” Dean wondered if Castiel could see his flush in the dim light of their bedroom. “Could we do some sort of family thing tomorrow? You know, you, me and the boys? I just… I need a good memory to get me through. I’ve a lot of work ahead of me with fixing you in my timeline.”
Castiel shuffled across the short space between them on the bed and squeezed Dean tight around the chest, leaning up and kissing the younger man’s temple. “Of course.”
xx
Dean found himself sadder than he thought he would be when it was nearing time to say goodbye. They had spent the day doing simple family things - a visit to the park, playing in the backyard, and even a board game for goodness sake. It was also, uncomfortably enough, Sorry. Apparently John had a fondness for the game. Dean didn’t explain the connection, just played on, silently wincing when Castiel had to send a few of his pawns back to the start. It was also helpful in a way, though; Dean saw what his world’s Castiel had been trying to do back then, explaining without explaining.
“I’m sorry, Dean, you have to go back to the beginning,” Castiel said.
“What?” Dean asked, blinking out of his daze.
John snickered.
Mary was ignoring them; she and Sam were playing on a team, after all, the girl was only four. She kept pushing Sam’s pawns around to where they weren’t supposed to be. Dean admired his little brother’s surprising patience with his daughter. Sam was a damn good dad apparently.
Castiel flashed Dean the playing card he had picked up. “The beginning? I got the card that sends you back.”
“Sends me back,” Dean repeated dumbly.
“Dad, are you all right?” John asked curiously.
“Ah, I’ll be better soon, Kiddo,” Dean answered.
Dean. It’s time.
Dean quirked an ironic grin. “The card that sends me back, huh? Back to the beginning.”
“Dean?” Castiel asked.
“Dude, you normally don’t suck this much at this game,” Sam said carefully.
“I’m going to check on Jasper,” Dean pushed away from the table and sent Castiel and Sam a significant look. “Then I’ll follow that card. Just give me a minute.”
All right. Just a minute. Then make your goodbyes, Dean.
“Oh!” Castiel said, eyes widening. “Right, yes.”
xx
Dean felt a little guilty about waking Jasper up, but he wouldn’t leave without saying a proper goodbye. He might not get to meet this little boy again for several years. Jasper had pretty well been the one to get Dean through this ridiculous rollercoaster that had been his life the last weeks.
“Dada?” Jasper muttered sleepily, rubbing his eye and then nuzzling against Dean’s shoulder, half falling asleep again.
“Hey Baby Boy,” Dean murmured. “I just wanted to tell you goodbye and give you one last hug before I go. I’ll see you again though in a few years. Your real daddy will be back soon so it’s not like you’re even gonna notice.”
Jasper lifted his head up, his eyes taking on that impossible age and awareness once again as he met Dean’s gaze. Dean was no baby expert but he was pretty sure kids who weren’t even toddling yet weren’t supposed to have that sort of look to them.
“Better?” Jasper asked.
Dean blinked. “Ah… yeah, yeah. I think I’m better now. I have some work ahead of me, but I can do it. I’m gonna have to if I want to get you.”
Jasper reached out one tiny hand and touched Dean’s chest over his heart once again before settling back against Dean and beginning to coo and sing nonsense - thirteen-month-old once again.
Dean smiled and kissed the baby’s head before settling Jasper back in the crib.
The green-eyed man scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed before exiting the room. He slapped a grin back on his face and headed to the kitchen, running in and gently tackling John off his seat, hugging the boy close and kissing his cheek.
John giggled and rubbed at his cheek once Dean had released him.
“Dad!” John whined, flashing Dean a miniature and adorable version of Castiel’s scowl, then clamouring back on his seat. Dean danced around the table and gave Sam a noogie, then dropped a kiss on Mary’s curls. He stopped at Cas and took the angel’s hand, pulling him off the chair and flashing the rest of his family a wink.
“We’ll be back in a sec, guys. Johnny, take my turn, then you two can keep going. I’m sure we’ll just be a minute.”
“See you in a few, Dean,” Sam said significantly.
“Dad?” John asked.
“It’s cool, Kiddo. We’ll be back,” Dean said and pulled Castiel behind him, out of the kitchen. When he reached their bedroom he shut the door behind him and pulled Castiel into his arms. Castiel brought his own arms up and around Dean, squeezing tightly and pressing their cheeks together.
“You be safe,” Castiel said sternly.
“’Course,” Dean grinned. “Hey, your real Dean will be back soon, so isn’t this a win for you?”
“I like past you,” Castiel smiled gently. “I have missed him though.”
“Understandable,” Dean nodded. “You remember what we talked about though, all right? Just talk to him. Please don’t keep secrets. I don’t want… It’s dangerous.”
“All right,” Castiel agreed firmly. “I promise. I hope, no, I know, you’ll get this one day, Dean. Don’t forget what you have here. You’ll need it to… to bring me back.”
Dean nodded again.
They stood in one another’s arms, quiet for a few breaths, before Dean took the initiative and leaned down to kiss Castiel deeply. Castiel opened his mouth willingly, his arms tightening their hold around Dean. They pulled back after their short exchange and then Castiel grinned.
“See you on the flip-side,” the angel winked.
That startled a laugh out of Dean. “See you.”
“Don’t forget the pendant,” Castiel said hastily, as if just remembering. Dean patted down his jean pockets before he landed on the pendant, still tucked away in its bag.
“Got it,” Dean nodded. All right. I’m ready.
Brace yourself.
Dean felt a tug then, behind his navel, probably close to what was always described in the Harry Potter books when using that teleport thing. It was a jolt and a rush that left him feeling dizzy and out of breath before he came awake.
“You slept for a long time.”
Dean looked over and gasped, shaking in his spot on the hard, damp ground. For one confused moment he was afraid he was back in the dream world, but everything around him just seemed so solid, with none of that floating sort of feeling around him. Just to check, he patted his pocket again and landed on the lump of the charm. They were the clothes he last remembered being in when they first tumbled into Purgatory. His new jacket creaked around him, the firelight reflecting across the leather.
“You needed it,” Castiel added gently.
Dean looked at the angel properly, really looked, and saw somewhat to his surprise that Castiel’s eyes weren’t quite as clouded as they had been in the dream. Castiel seemed to have a better understanding of the world around him. Dean supposed in the real thing, Castiel needed to pull himself, at least somewhat, out of his temporary craziness.
“Hey, Cas,” Dean greeted.
“Hello, Dean.”
“Come here,” Dean said, gesturing with one hand.
“Dean?” Castiel furrowed his brow a little.
“Just come here,” Dean repeated, more insistently.
Castiel scooted towards the hunter, his awkward shuffle evidence that he still wasn’t quite the Castiel Dean had been so familiar with.
“I need you to know, Cas, you and I are solid, all right? That shit? All under the bridge. We’re gonna get out of here and we’re gonna get you better. We have a lot of catching up to do and I’m not letting time slip away again.”
“Dean, I-”
Dean interrupted the angel with a chaste kiss, then pulled him tight to his chest. Castiel startled and was stiff in Dean’s arms.
“You’re important, Cas,” Dean whispered.
Castiel gradually relaxed in Dean’s hold, though his long fingers tightened in the dirty material of the hunter’s shirt.
“Now let’s go home,” Dean said. He closed his eyes, focused as hard as he could, and then with a sigh followed by a crackle and a tear, the sky opened above them.
The End
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