SPN FIC: Reflection of You - 2/10 - R - Dean/Castiel
Title: Reflection of You (2/10)
Rating: R
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Disclaimer: I don't own these guys.
Warnings: 5.04: "The End" 'verse - dark, drug use, angst, torture, graphic violence, character death, good guys doing bad things, disturbing content, and an even more disturbing inspiration. Both Dean and Castiel are Not Nice people. That might cover all the bases.
Notes: Part 2: ~5800 words/~50,000 words. See the first post for the full list of warnings and complete header.
Thanks: More ♥ than I can express to tracy_loo_who, extraonions, deancastiel chat peeps, and quovadimus83.
Summary: When an angel falls, it's impossible to know exactly where they'll crash.
Talking, not talking, eavesdropping, and phone calls - these can all sometimes tell you more than you want to know. An extremely vague prophecy doesn't tell you much at all.
[ One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten ]
He stood in the center of a burning field, and flames licked at his sides and scorched the soles of his feet. Moans and screams of despair surrounded him, and for a moment Castiel wondered if he had returned to Hell. He'd been there only once, and that was when he fought down to the depths to find and retrieve a certain Dean Winchester. The fire had burnt him then, as well, but this time he felt the heat on his back, reminding him just how little protection he had without his wings.
A rushing gale roared across the field and knocked Castiel to his knees, and the fire surrounding him began to die down to glowing embers. The smoldering grass seeming to cause more choking smoke than the fire itself had and Castiel coughed, trying to regain his breath, and he remembered that the fire in Hell never let out a single wisp of smoke.
He wasn't in Hell. He was on Earth.
This was Hell on Earth.
The screams faded down along with the flames, and Castiel rubbed at his eyes, trying to ease the burning sensation from the soot and smoke flying through the air. The field stretched as far as he could see, and the smoke was so thick that he couldn't even tell if it was night or day. He couldn't see any other other beings on the field with him, but just because he couldn't see anything didn't mean he was alone.
He felt something there with him.
Something whispered to him, not in his ears, but his mind. The timbre and melody reminded him of the voices of his brothers and sisters, and deep longing burst open inside him. He reached out for the whispers, despite not knowing how or even knowing what they said. He just wanted to hear his family again -
"Cas!"
Castiel let out a gasp, and the air filling his lungs felt like an enormous relief, as if he'd been holding his breath for some time. His eyes shot open wide and the smoldering field instantly faded from his vision, Dean appearing in it's place. The pale moonlight shining through the window of the guest room at Bobby's cast long shadows across the planes of Dean's face, but Castiel could see his tight frown and eyebrows drawn together in a worried line. Fingers threaded their way through his hair and grounded him, and Castiel took a deep breath, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes.
"Another one?" Dean asked.
"Yes." Castiel sat up, shoving the covers down his chest and into his lap. His hair stuck to the back of his neck with sweat, and his throat felt dry and parched. "Is there water?" he asked. Dean rolled over and returned with a water bottle, and he waited as Castiel downed nearly the entire thing.
"Was it the same one again?"
Castiel wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and nodded. "I still can't tell what they're saying to me." Castiel never dreamed before, not even after he became mortal, but since the Croatoan virus started picking up steam he'd been having the same one nearly every night.
"You think it's really them?"
Castiel sighed. "I don't know, Dean. I doubt it, but I can't really tell the difference between a dream and a..."
"Like when you used to talk to me in my dreams?" Dean's tone was subdued, as it always was when they spoke about something Castiel used to be able to do. Castiel supposed he knew why - his chest tightened up every time something from "before" was mentioned. He thought he kept that feeling hidden fairly well, but Dean seemed to become more in tune with him every day.
"Yes," Castiel said, one of his hands twisting into the blankets in his lap. "Or even if it is a dream, I can't tell if it actually means something or if it's just... what was it that Bobby said? If it's just my subconscious trying to tell me something."
"So you did talk to Bobby about it."
"Yes, but it's not like there's an expert on the dreams of fallen angels!" Castiel snapped, and instantly regretted it. He glanced at Dean, and he hated how the dim light made the circles beneath his eyes even darker. "Dean, stop worrying about it. Please."
Dean shook his head. "Cas, I'm not gonna -"
Castiel figured out the fail-safe method of shutting Dean up a few weeks before, and he utilized that knowledge by covering Dean's lips with his own. Sure enough, Dean stopped, and instead returned the kiss with one just as soft. "You need sleep. We both do," Castiel whispered. "Let's not worry about it right now."
Dean reached around and pulled Castiel towards him, his hand brushing up against the amulet Castiel still wore around his neck. "You're not gonna talk about it, but I'm still gonna worry," he said, his voice muffled as he tucked his face back down into his pillow. Castiel repressed a sigh before relaxing into Dean's arms and letting sleep overtake him once more.
* * *
Castiel woke up to an empty bed. He stretched and blinked the sleep out of his eyes before deciding that a shower and some coffee would be entirely necessary. He eased the door of the guest room open and heard the familiar timbre of Bobby and Dean's voices come from downstairs. He started to head to the bathroom, but paused when overheard his name.
"He have another one of those dreams, then?"
"Yeah. I'm sorry, Bobby - did he wake you up?"
"No. You just look like you've been awake for three days straight."
Castiel's breath caught in his throat. He knew Dean didn't sleep enough as it was, and it seemed more of that had to do with himself than Dean let on. He turned back to the bathroom, not wanting to eavesdrop, but paused when Bobby's voice traveled up the stairs again.
"Dean, that boy -"
Castiel heard Dean snort. "Really not a boy, Bobby."
"I can't tell if he's the best thing that's ever happened to you, or if he's the worst idea you've ever had. And kid - you've had a lot of bad ideas."
An unfamiliar feeling crept into Castiel's mind, and the back of his neck and the tips of his ears suddenly felt hot. He didn't know what the feeling was, but he didn't like it, and he had to resist the temptation to storm down the stairs and demand why Bobby had apparently decided that the relationship between Dean and himself was his concern.
Bobby continued. "You two spend all your time together, but he won't talk to you and you won't talk to him. That's not healthy."
"We talk all the time."
"That's not what I mean, Dean, and you know it."
"Well, then, tell me what you mean." Dean sounded angry, and Castiel found himself smiling at that.
"You dote on him. You're practically wiping his ass with how much you're keeping an eye on him."
"Bobby, he's going through something right now -"
"Yeah, he is. And I can only kind of imagine what it's like to... suddenly be something you've never been before." Bobby paused, and Castiel found himself visualizing the wheelchair that Bobby now occupied. He supposed they were in somewhat similar positions, having both been reduced to only part of what they were before, but Castiel couldn't help but think that they were worlds apart to begin with.
Bobby started out as a human, and remained human. Castiel lost nearly everything he once was.
"And whenever you ask him about it he avoids the question."
Castiel narrowed his eyes.
"What, are you spying on us?" Dean asked.
"Not on purpose, trust me."
Another moment of silence passed before Dean finally responded, his voice so quiet that Castiel had to strain to hear it. "You wanna tell me what your point is, Bobby?"
Bobby sighed. "You two are using each other. He's using you as a way to deal with... whatever he's going through."
"And me?"
"Seems to me that you found yourself a half-assed replacement for Sam."
Castiel felt as if the temperature dropped ten degrees, and his breath caught in his throat.
Dean laughed. "I never slept with my brother, Bobby."
"Oh, so you two are sleeping together."
"I thought you knew. We weren't exactly hiding it."
"I suspected."
"He's not a replacement for Sam."
Bobby sighed loud enough for Castiel to hear it. "Look, kid. I'm not trying to say that you two don't... care about each other. But you're using him the same way he's using you."
"I really don't get what you're trying to say." Dean sounded irritated.
"You've both got some issues. I still don't know what happened with you an' Sam, and you won't talk to me or Cas about it. And Cas just lost something huge, is apparently having nightmares about it, and he ain't talking to anyone about it. I ain't a psychiatrist or nothing, but you're both just ignoring the problems you've got because you've got each other."
"Bobby, I don't know if you noticed, but we both have bigger problems than that. There's this other huge thing going on - you know, the friggin' apocalypse?"
Their voices dropped low, lower than Castiel could hear. He strained his ears for a moment, but stopped, sitting back and closing his eyes. He shouldn't have eavesdropped to begin with; Dean and Bobby didn't have anything to hide, and eavesdropping just wound up making Castiel feel worse. He headed into the bathroom, and as he stepped underneath the hot spray, he realized Bobby was right about one thing.
Every time Castiel attempted to bring up Sam to Dean, Dean brushed the subject off. Castiel may have lost much of his intuition when he lost his grace, but he knew that Dean needed Sam, and he still wasn't entirely clear why they had separated to begin with, or why Dean adamantly insisted that he didn't need to stay in touch with his brother.
If Dean wouldn't speak to Castiel about Sam, perhaps Castiel could try a different angle.
* * *
"Hey, Bobby. What's up?"
Castiel hadn't heard Sam's voice in well over a year. Even though he'd been expecting it, and he was the one who borrowed Bobby's cell phone, it still made him pause.
"Bobby?"
Castiel cleared his throat. "It's not Bobby, Sam."
"Who - Castiel?"
No one ever could ever pronounce his name in the way it was truly meant to be said but Sam always managed to mangle it more than most, and Castiel smiled at hearing Sam's particular way of saying it. "Hi, Sam."
"Why are you - is everyone okay?"
"Everyone's fine."
"I heard what happened, Cas. I'm... I'm sorry. I can't imagine what you're going through."
"It's... I'm... dealing with it. That isn't why I called. I wanted to speak with you."
He heard Sam sigh. "If you're calling me about the same thing Bobby's always bugging me about -"
"I don't even know what he's spoken to you about, Sam."
"Dean and I shouldn't be around each other. It's too dangerous."
Castiel blinked at Sam's response to his unspoken question. He didn't know what to expect for an answer, but that hadn't been it. More than anything, he hadn't expected Sam to agree with Dean. They rarely agreed on anything.
"Lucifer is after me, not anyone else. I've got a giant target on my back. I shouldn't be around anyone at all."
"Is that - that's why you and Dean won't even speak to each other?"
"It makes the most sense, Cas. If Lucifer or Michael get to either of us, we won't have anything to give up."
"That - that doesn't make any sense at all."
Sam sighed again. "Cas, I'm tired of arguing with Bobby about it, and I'm not going to start arguing with you about it."
"Sam -"
"I'm in the middle of something right now, Cas. I've gotta go." Sam cleared his throat. "Keep an eye on Dean for me."
"Sam!" Cas said, hoping he caught him before Sam hung up. "I can never be to Dean what you are. Please remember that."
Castiel heard Sam sniff in response. "Just make sure he doesn't do anything too crazy, okay? You know how he is."
By the time Castiel opened his mouth, Sam had already disconnected. He sighed, flipped the phone closed, and headed back inside.
"No luck, huh?" Bobby said as Castiel handed his phone back over.
"I don't understand them," Castiel said, shaking his head.
Bobby snorted. "I've been trying to understand those two for years."
* * *
Reports of the virus made it to hunters across the country, although it was clear that no one knew exactly what to make of it. When the revelation that sulfur was being detected in the infected blood, a few hunters that Bobby hadn't had contact with before were pointed in Bobby's direction. Word had apparently been put out that Bobby had information on what was happening, and Bobby's phone started ringing off the hook, to the point that Bobby turned his phone off at night.
Dean took to scouring the news to see if there were any hints of the virus, and Castiel began piecing together what he could remember of Roanoke, along with what little information he could find in the history books.
"The problem is that my brothers and I never expected it, and we didn't notice what had happened in Roanoke until the people of the colony were already missing." He leaned back from one of Bobby's books and rubbed his eyes. "We were never omniscient, and we hadn't known that the colony needed keeping an eye on. Even when Uriel went back -"
"That ass?"
Castiel ignored the comment. He still mourned the path Uriel had gone down, but he understood Dean's problems with him. "Even when Uriel went back through time to observe happenings on the island, he couldn't find the source of the virus."
"Is there any chance he was lying?" Dean asked. "I mean, you did tell me he was actually rooting for Lucifer to come back."
Castiel shook his head. "I doubt it, but it's hard to say for sure."
"So even the angels knew about as much Roanoke as we humans knew, then," Bobby said, rolling into the living room with a few beers.
"We did know it was demonic in origin, but that was it. We were never given a chance to study it."
"Do you... do you think it's a coincidence that the virus popped up again right after the angels left?" Dean asked.
Castiel frowned and took a sip of his beer. "I honestly don't know."
"Is it possible that the angels didn't just... leave?" Bobby asked quietly, and Castiel suppressed a sigh. Dean and Bobby acted as if they were walking on eggshells every time the topic of the angels' departure came up, and Castiel wished they wouldn't.
"It's the only possibility," Castiel said. "No demon or angel, not even Lucifer, could force the entire host to leave. And I know that my brothers and sisters were... tired." He cast his eyes away from the other two as a feeling of shame suddenly overtook him. "It's why they wanted the apocalypse to come to pass to begin with." He closed his eyes as he was reminded of the part he had played in causing the apocalypse. If he had only decided where his loyalties had laid sooner, the present events could have been completely different. Lucifer wouldn't have even been a threat.
"Stop that." Dean interrupted Castiel's thoughts.
"What?"
"I know that look. Just stop."
Castiel offered Dean a small smile. "I will if you do the same."
Dean snorted. "Right." Bobby passed another newspaper over to Dean, and their attention drifted away from him as they poured over the latest reports.
Castiel's fingers drifted up and landed on Dean's amulet, still resting against his chest underneath his shirt. Something had bothered him ever since the host left, but it was something he'd been shoving down, unsure if it was something he wanted to face.
He stood up, grabbed his beer and left the room, finding his way onto Bobby's porch. The summer air was beginning to cool down, and it helped him clear his head.
"Cas?"
Castiel closed his eyes. He'd been hoping Dean wouldn't have followed him out.
"Everything okay?"
Castiel didn't answer, and instead tipped his beer to his lips, guzzling down what remained of the bottle.
"Cas, c'mon. Talk to me." Dean came up beside Castiel and leaned against the rail of Bobby's porch, their arms brushing up against each other.
"Are you only checking with me because Bobby thinks we don't talk enough?"
He felt Dean stiffen up before letting out a laugh. "So you heard that?"
"Yes."
"Cas, look -"
Castiel cut Dean off with a wave of his hand. He again rested his fingers against the amulet, swallowed hard, and finally untucked the leather cord from his shirt and lifted it over his head. He rolled the amulet between his fingers before holding it out to Dean.
Dean's expression made it clear that he knew exactly what it meant, and blinked at it before he extended his hand to take the familiar necklace. "You're giving up?"
Castiel sighed. "I think I gave up months ago, Dean. It's obvious."
Dean didn't say anything, and Castiel was grateful for it.
"If my brothers and sisters were allowed to leave without resistance, our Father... it means God isn't anywhere that he can be found." He closed his eyes. "You were right, Dean. God is gone."
"Cas..."
"I don't even know if He was ever there to begin with," Castiel said. He turned around, and he hoped that Bobby would be willing to share whatever whiskey he had hidden away. "It wouldn't do any good for me to continue hoping for something that will never come."
* * *
Hunters began showing up at Bobby's for a first-hand account of exactly what was happening. The three of them shared what they could, and most hunters moved on when they got the information they came for. Once in a while, though, someone would stay for a night or two, and Castiel often found himself feeling even more claustrophobic than usual.
When Castiel had first taken Jimmy Novak as a vessel, he felt confined. Angels weren't meant to be contained in human skin, and he had felt cramped. When the host of angels had left, the skin started to feel more like his own, but it had still taken him quite some time for him to grow used to it.
Bobby's house became a type of command center, and the way people crowded into it made Castiel uncomfortable. More than once Dean found Castiel sitting out in the Impala with a beer or a bottle of whiskey, just to get away from the people and the noise. Dean teased him about being anti-social, but it was without spite.
One night Dean decided he was sick of Castiel hiding in his car, and he coaxed Castiel out of the Impala and up to Bobby's porch. They talked about everything and nothing, and Castiel appreciated the distraction.
The sun was just slipping down below the horizon when yet another car rolled up the dirt driveway. "Shit," Castiel said, exasperated at seeing yet another body added to the mix, and Dean laughed. For reasons Castiel couldn't understand, Dean was always amused when Castiel swore.
The car rolled to a stop, and a man neither Dean or Castiel recognized climbed out of the driver's seat, but when a second man appeared from the passenger side, Castiel felt as if his muscles locked up. He hadn't seen that face since he faced off against Raphael, and the memory of blinding light and excruciating pain froze him in place.
Chuck Shurley followed the hunter up the stairs in silence. He gave a small smile to Dean, but he stopped in his tracks when he spotted Castiel.
Castiel stared back, and he couldn't breathe. The last moments he'd been with Chuck kept replaying in his mind on repeat. Everything he felt was unfamiliar, and he found himself involuntarily tensing up, almost as if he was preparing for an archangel's power to break his body open again.
Dean looked back and forth between the two of them before placing a hand on Castiel's arm. "That's it," he muttered. He nodded to Chuck and the hunter in greeting, then turned Castiel around and marched him inside and up the stairs.
He never took his gaze off of Castiel, and he didn't speak until he shut the door with his shoe. "Cas, what's up?"
"It's ridiculous," Castiel said, taking a deep breath. He backed up until the back of his legs hit the bed, and he sat down, placing his head in one of his free hands. "I shouldn't be having this kind of reaction to him. The last time I saw him..."
Dean crouched down and tried to get Castiel's eyes to meet his own. "Cas, it's not exactly easy for me to think about, either. Raphael freaking killed you."
Castiel winced.
"Shit, I'm sorry," Dean said, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around Castiel's jeans. "I -"
"Dean, don't." Castiel shook his head. "I already know what happened there, and there's no use in reliving it. I just need... I just need to catch my breath."
He did just that, and Dean waited with him. Despite losing many of his angelic memories, his remembered his death as clear as daylight, and he found it difficult to simply shut it off. Castiel knew that he needed to, though - he would be of little use if he wasn't even able to deal with being in Chuck's presence.
Castiel took a deep breath, then offered Dean a smile in thanks for keeping his silence.
"We need to find out why he's here," Castiel said.
* * *
As it turned out, Chuck was about as thrilled to see Castiel again as Castiel was to see Chuck. Castiel may have been the one to be blown to pieces, but Chuck was the one who had seen it all unfold. Humans didn't tend to see people explode in front of their eyes, so Castiel supposed he could understand why Chuck had been so disturbed to see him.
Bobby ushered all of the hunters out of his kitchen and plunked a bottle of Johnnie Walker on the table, and Dean, Castiel, and Chuck stared each other down as he poured them each a glass.
"I haven't had a vision in a while," Chuck said after swallowing down his glass in one gulp. "I know that they left, though."
"How do you know?" Castiel asked.
"I kinda... felt them go," Chuck said. "It was like a vice suddenly let go of my brain."
"Did any of your last visions tell you anything? Why they left, or if they knew what was happening?" Castiel knew the answer to that wouldn't necessarily solve any of their current problems, but he couldn't help but wonder about the circumstances surrounding his brothers and sisters' departure.
Chuck shrugged. "A lot of the visions I got after that one vision - the one that sent you and Sam into a trap, Dean - they were all muddled. They didn't make much sense."
"Do you remember anything at all?" Dean asked, and Castiel could tell from Dean's tone of voice that 'anything at all' actually meant 'anything useful.'
"Just that this virus is gonna start wiping everyone out," Chuck said.
"Which we already know is a possibility," Bobby said.
"Anything else?" Dean pressed.
Chuck poured himself another glass of whiskey. He knocked it back and looked down, not meeting anyone's eyes. "The only other thing I saw for sure is that in the end, you're there."
"Me?" Dean asked.
Chuck nodded.
"I..." Dean leaned back in his chair and frowned. "Did you see anyone else?" Castiel knew he wasn't only wondering about himself and Bobby, but Sam, as well.
Chuck shrugged. "I saw some other people here and there, but I couldn't see any of their faces. But you're definitely there." Chuck shivered, and Castiel felt a chill run down his body, as well. "I don't know what happens after that."
"Was I... doing anything in the vision?"
Chuck shook his head. "I really couldn't see much of anything, Dean. I'm sorry, but it's all pretty useless."
"Then why did you come here?" Castiel asked.
Bobby snorted. "Boy, you haven't learned much tact, have you?" Castiel ignored him.
Chuck finally met Castiel's eyes, and Castiel noticed just how pale and tired Chuck appeared. "I didn't know where else to go. From what I can tell, the world's gonna crash and burn, but you're gonna keep fighting until the end."
Dean didn't say anything. He looked at Chuck for another moment before he pushed back from the table, swiftly heading out of the room. Castiel muttered an apology to Chuck and Bobby before following behind him.
He found Dean out on the porch, which seemed to have become their refuge since coming to Bobby's. Dean leaned against the railing, and Castiel could see the tension racing up and down Dean's back. "He's right, you know," Castiel said.
"I know," Dean said.
"If this world has any hope of surviving, it's because of you."
"And if that's what Chuck thinks, he's nothing but a fucking coward for coming here." Dean shook his head. "Do you know how much I hate that?"
"Chuck being afraid? Can you blame him?"
"No." Dean turned his head, and Castiel was struck by how lost Dean appeared. "I can't be the... the only hope for survival."
"Dean." Castiel grabbed Dean and turned him around, not wanting to continue speaking to Dean's back. "I know you hate it. But it's not much different from what people usually look to you for." He placed a hand on Dean's cheek. "You've saved countless lives, both by just... doing what you do, and also just by inspiring others to do what's right." Castiel smiled, knowing he himself was one of those who Dean had convinced to do the right thing. "Chuck might be here because he's a coward, but he's also here because he believes in you."
"I can't take that, Cas. I can't deal with that alone."
Castiel winced, but plowed on. "I know I'm not much of a substitute for Sam, but I'm with you. You're not alone."
Dean opened his mouth when Castiel mentioned Sam, but Castiel didn't let him say what was on his mind. Sam wasn't the point.
"We're all fighting blind here, Dean, but we do have more info than any other hunter going up against this thing. We might not know how to cure it, but we do know how it spreads, and we can at least figure out how to slow it down and how to keep people safe."
Dean pushed Castiel's hand away and shook his head. "I'm really not up for hearing whatever inspiring speech you're gearing up for, Cas."
"Too bad," Castiel said. "Even though you're much better at inspiring speeches than I am, anyway."
Dean gave Castiel a half smile, which Castiel considered to be a small victory.
"Whether you want it or not, people are going to look to you for guidance, Dean," Castiel continued. "And you're going to need to be there to give it. You're going to have to make people listen to you if they won't."
Dean frowned. "You kind of sound like a dick right now, Cas."
"You're calling me by your old nickname for the angels." Castiel couldn't help but laugh. "You are right about something, in that respect."
"That you're being a dick?"
"No," Castiel said, narrowing his eyes. "But I've seen what happens when humanity is sent into a panic over something and no one steps up to lead them. I have been alive for millennia, Dean, and I've seen it happen countless times. It never leads to anything but a quicker end."
Dean stared, and his throat bobbed as he took a deep swallow before he finally shook his head. "If you've been around for millennia, how old does that make me with my forty years in hell?"
"Don't change the subject."
Dean sighed. He stepped away from Castiel and leaned back against the railing again, his eyes cast downward. "Why does it have to be me, Cas?"
It was a question Castiel sometimes found himself asking. "Do you trust anyone else to take the lead?"
Dean didn't answer, his gaze still pointed down towards their feet. "I hate this," he muttered.
"So do I." Castiel wished for the impossible - that he could take the apocalypse and throw it into the sun, just so he could offer Dean some relief. "But there doesn't appear to be a choice."
Dean let out a noisy sigh and pushed himself away from the railing. "Damn it." He rubbed a hand across his eyes before looking at Castiel, and an unspoken need made them both reach for one another, somehow knowing that leaning on each other was the only thing they could do at that moment. Castiel brushed his lips across Dean's, and he felt as if something inside of him was breaking into pieces. He was the one laying all of this on Dean's shoulders when he wanted nothing more than to take it all away.
They stayed wrapped around each other for a few long minutes before Dean finally pulled away, cradling Castiel's face in his hands and placing a kiss on Castiel's forehead. "I hear you, Cas," he said quietly. "I wish you didn't have to say it, but I hear you."
Castiel closed his eyes. "I wish it didn't need to be said."
Dean let out a laugh. "I don't know about you, but I'm thinking that the only thing that's gonna make this night better is if we gank the rest of Bobby's Johnnie Walker."
* * *
Castiel woke up to a pounding headache, and again an empty bed. He wondered exactly what it was that had woken him, and after managing to get the nausea and headache under control, he wandered down the stairs and into the living room, where Bobby and the hunter that arrived with Chuck the night before were both cursing up a storm.
"- can't believe a fucking woman is about to steal the election," the hunter said.
"It's got less to do with her fucking genitals and more to do with the fact that she's a fucking idiot!" Bobby shouted.
Castiel listened for another minute and finally deduced that they weren't actually arguing but in fact agreeing with each other, though he couldn't determine exactly what had set them off. The smell of coffee enticed him into the kitchen, where he found Dean and Chuck sitting at the table with forlorn expressions. "What's going on?" Castiel asked.
Dean sighed, setting his coffee mug down with a bang. "You want the good news or the bad news?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Palin apparently 'released' the information that there is an extremely contagious blood-borne virus that can be blamed for all the recent upswing in violence across the country," Dean said, cynicism dripping from his words. "Her so-called 'team' that found this info has the theory that it's the same thing that wiped out the Roanoke Colony because of the word 'Croatoan' that's been found in some of these towns. Don't ask me why since it could just be chalked up to copycat cult shit, but the public is just eating it up."
"Do you think she's always been possessed?" Chuck asked.
"Palin is possessed?" Castiel asked, surprised. He'd only come across her name when they'd been scouring the news for hints of the virus. Her activities were extremely well-covered due to her campaigning for the presidency, which made it somewhat difficult to find news of anything else.
"Fuck if I know. She probably just got the info from some demon, and she jumped at the chance for a good playing card," Dean said. "She really seems too dumb for a demon."
"Isn't this a good thing, though?" Castiel asked. "If the public is aware of the virus and how it is spread, it may make it easier to prevent it from spreading as quickly." He paused. "Or is this the good news?"
Dean smiled blearily as Castiel sat down next to him. "No. The good news is actually kinda good, and Palin is really not good. Palin basically just guaranteed herself the election next month."
Castiel nodded as the situation became clearer. "So she is a person who could wind up in a position of significant power, and if she did actually gain the information from a demon she is potentially easy to manipulate."
Chuck blinked. "And here most of us were just mad beacuse she's a fucking idiot."
Dean grinned and gently bumped his shoulder into Castiel's, who groaned. His head still ached, and being jostled didn't help. "Cas is always the voice of reason."
"Don't run into me again until my head feels better," Castiel said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What's the actual good news?"
"Bobby's sick as shit of his house being invaded, so we're all being kicked out."
Castiel dropped his hand and stared at Dean. "That's good news?"
"The hunter who brought Chuck here last night - he came here with word of a little military camp that's wide open for us to move into. It's abandoned, but still in good shape, and it'll make a good base of operations. That means no more overcrowding and no more hiding in my car for you." Dean grinned. "And if we're actually going to try and convince people to get together and fight, we need somewhere to put them that isn't Bobby's living room."
Castiel found Dean's smile infectious, and he offered a small smile back. "You seem especially pleased about this." He considered what Dean had said. "More pleased than you did last night, anyway."
"Dude, no matter how shitty this place turns out, it's still..." He paused. "When I was growing up, we never stayed anywhere longer than a few months. These days I never stay somewhere for more than a few weeks. Even if it's just for strategic purposes or - whatever, it's almost like I'm gonna have a home."
"Well, personally, I'm less than thrilled," Chuck said, standing up. "I'm happy for you, Dean, really, but I know that I'll really be missing being able to have a shower in the morning."
"You don't have to come," Dean pointed out.
Chuck stared back at Dean for a moment before answering. "Yes, I do." He poured himself another cup of coffee and headed out into the living room, where Bobby could still be heard shouting about 'that fucking manipulative moron.'
Castiel glanced back over at Dean, who was still grinning at him. "You've never had this before," Castiel said quietly.
"No. And I'm not happy about the circumstances around it, but..." He paused and let out a laugh. "You wanna move in with me, Cas?"
Part Three
Rating: R
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Disclaimer: I don't own these guys.
Warnings: 5.04: "The End" 'verse - dark, drug use, angst, torture, graphic violence, character death, good guys doing bad things, disturbing content, and an even more disturbing inspiration. Both Dean and Castiel are Not Nice people. That might cover all the bases.
Notes: Part 2: ~5800 words/~50,000 words. See the first post for the full list of warnings and complete header.
Thanks: More ♥ than I can express to tracy_loo_who, extraonions, deancastiel chat peeps, and quovadimus83.
Summary: When an angel falls, it's impossible to know exactly where they'll crash.
Talking, not talking, eavesdropping, and phone calls - these can all sometimes tell you more than you want to know. An extremely vague prophecy doesn't tell you much at all.
[ One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten ]
He stood in the center of a burning field, and flames licked at his sides and scorched the soles of his feet. Moans and screams of despair surrounded him, and for a moment Castiel wondered if he had returned to Hell. He'd been there only once, and that was when he fought down to the depths to find and retrieve a certain Dean Winchester. The fire had burnt him then, as well, but this time he felt the heat on his back, reminding him just how little protection he had without his wings.
A rushing gale roared across the field and knocked Castiel to his knees, and the fire surrounding him began to die down to glowing embers. The smoldering grass seeming to cause more choking smoke than the fire itself had and Castiel coughed, trying to regain his breath, and he remembered that the fire in Hell never let out a single wisp of smoke.
He wasn't in Hell. He was on Earth.
This was Hell on Earth.
The screams faded down along with the flames, and Castiel rubbed at his eyes, trying to ease the burning sensation from the soot and smoke flying through the air. The field stretched as far as he could see, and the smoke was so thick that he couldn't even tell if it was night or day. He couldn't see any other other beings on the field with him, but just because he couldn't see anything didn't mean he was alone.
He felt something there with him.
Something whispered to him, not in his ears, but his mind. The timbre and melody reminded him of the voices of his brothers and sisters, and deep longing burst open inside him. He reached out for the whispers, despite not knowing how or even knowing what they said. He just wanted to hear his family again -
"Cas!"
Castiel let out a gasp, and the air filling his lungs felt like an enormous relief, as if he'd been holding his breath for some time. His eyes shot open wide and the smoldering field instantly faded from his vision, Dean appearing in it's place. The pale moonlight shining through the window of the guest room at Bobby's cast long shadows across the planes of Dean's face, but Castiel could see his tight frown and eyebrows drawn together in a worried line. Fingers threaded their way through his hair and grounded him, and Castiel took a deep breath, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes.
"Another one?" Dean asked.
"Yes." Castiel sat up, shoving the covers down his chest and into his lap. His hair stuck to the back of his neck with sweat, and his throat felt dry and parched. "Is there water?" he asked. Dean rolled over and returned with a water bottle, and he waited as Castiel downed nearly the entire thing.
"Was it the same one again?"
Castiel wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and nodded. "I still can't tell what they're saying to me." Castiel never dreamed before, not even after he became mortal, but since the Croatoan virus started picking up steam he'd been having the same one nearly every night.
"You think it's really them?"
Castiel sighed. "I don't know, Dean. I doubt it, but I can't really tell the difference between a dream and a..."
"Like when you used to talk to me in my dreams?" Dean's tone was subdued, as it always was when they spoke about something Castiel used to be able to do. Castiel supposed he knew why - his chest tightened up every time something from "before" was mentioned. He thought he kept that feeling hidden fairly well, but Dean seemed to become more in tune with him every day.
"Yes," Castiel said, one of his hands twisting into the blankets in his lap. "Or even if it is a dream, I can't tell if it actually means something or if it's just... what was it that Bobby said? If it's just my subconscious trying to tell me something."
"So you did talk to Bobby about it."
"Yes, but it's not like there's an expert on the dreams of fallen angels!" Castiel snapped, and instantly regretted it. He glanced at Dean, and he hated how the dim light made the circles beneath his eyes even darker. "Dean, stop worrying about it. Please."
Dean shook his head. "Cas, I'm not gonna -"
Castiel figured out the fail-safe method of shutting Dean up a few weeks before, and he utilized that knowledge by covering Dean's lips with his own. Sure enough, Dean stopped, and instead returned the kiss with one just as soft. "You need sleep. We both do," Castiel whispered. "Let's not worry about it right now."
Dean reached around and pulled Castiel towards him, his hand brushing up against the amulet Castiel still wore around his neck. "You're not gonna talk about it, but I'm still gonna worry," he said, his voice muffled as he tucked his face back down into his pillow. Castiel repressed a sigh before relaxing into Dean's arms and letting sleep overtake him once more.
* * *
Castiel woke up to an empty bed. He stretched and blinked the sleep out of his eyes before deciding that a shower and some coffee would be entirely necessary. He eased the door of the guest room open and heard the familiar timbre of Bobby and Dean's voices come from downstairs. He started to head to the bathroom, but paused when overheard his name.
"He have another one of those dreams, then?"
"Yeah. I'm sorry, Bobby - did he wake you up?"
"No. You just look like you've been awake for three days straight."
Castiel's breath caught in his throat. He knew Dean didn't sleep enough as it was, and it seemed more of that had to do with himself than Dean let on. He turned back to the bathroom, not wanting to eavesdrop, but paused when Bobby's voice traveled up the stairs again.
"Dean, that boy -"
Castiel heard Dean snort. "Really not a boy, Bobby."
"I can't tell if he's the best thing that's ever happened to you, or if he's the worst idea you've ever had. And kid - you've had a lot of bad ideas."
An unfamiliar feeling crept into Castiel's mind, and the back of his neck and the tips of his ears suddenly felt hot. He didn't know what the feeling was, but he didn't like it, and he had to resist the temptation to storm down the stairs and demand why Bobby had apparently decided that the relationship between Dean and himself was his concern.
Bobby continued. "You two spend all your time together, but he won't talk to you and you won't talk to him. That's not healthy."
"We talk all the time."
"That's not what I mean, Dean, and you know it."
"Well, then, tell me what you mean." Dean sounded angry, and Castiel found himself smiling at that.
"You dote on him. You're practically wiping his ass with how much you're keeping an eye on him."
"Bobby, he's going through something right now -"
"Yeah, he is. And I can only kind of imagine what it's like to... suddenly be something you've never been before." Bobby paused, and Castiel found himself visualizing the wheelchair that Bobby now occupied. He supposed they were in somewhat similar positions, having both been reduced to only part of what they were before, but Castiel couldn't help but think that they were worlds apart to begin with.
Bobby started out as a human, and remained human. Castiel lost nearly everything he once was.
"And whenever you ask him about it he avoids the question."
Castiel narrowed his eyes.
"What, are you spying on us?" Dean asked.
"Not on purpose, trust me."
Another moment of silence passed before Dean finally responded, his voice so quiet that Castiel had to strain to hear it. "You wanna tell me what your point is, Bobby?"
Bobby sighed. "You two are using each other. He's using you as a way to deal with... whatever he's going through."
"And me?"
"Seems to me that you found yourself a half-assed replacement for Sam."
Castiel felt as if the temperature dropped ten degrees, and his breath caught in his throat.
Dean laughed. "I never slept with my brother, Bobby."
"Oh, so you two are sleeping together."
"I thought you knew. We weren't exactly hiding it."
"I suspected."
"He's not a replacement for Sam."
Bobby sighed loud enough for Castiel to hear it. "Look, kid. I'm not trying to say that you two don't... care about each other. But you're using him the same way he's using you."
"I really don't get what you're trying to say." Dean sounded irritated.
"You've both got some issues. I still don't know what happened with you an' Sam, and you won't talk to me or Cas about it. And Cas just lost something huge, is apparently having nightmares about it, and he ain't talking to anyone about it. I ain't a psychiatrist or nothing, but you're both just ignoring the problems you've got because you've got each other."
"Bobby, I don't know if you noticed, but we both have bigger problems than that. There's this other huge thing going on - you know, the friggin' apocalypse?"
Their voices dropped low, lower than Castiel could hear. He strained his ears for a moment, but stopped, sitting back and closing his eyes. He shouldn't have eavesdropped to begin with; Dean and Bobby didn't have anything to hide, and eavesdropping just wound up making Castiel feel worse. He headed into the bathroom, and as he stepped underneath the hot spray, he realized Bobby was right about one thing.
Every time Castiel attempted to bring up Sam to Dean, Dean brushed the subject off. Castiel may have lost much of his intuition when he lost his grace, but he knew that Dean needed Sam, and he still wasn't entirely clear why they had separated to begin with, or why Dean adamantly insisted that he didn't need to stay in touch with his brother.
If Dean wouldn't speak to Castiel about Sam, perhaps Castiel could try a different angle.
* * *
"Hey, Bobby. What's up?"
Castiel hadn't heard Sam's voice in well over a year. Even though he'd been expecting it, and he was the one who borrowed Bobby's cell phone, it still made him pause.
"Bobby?"
Castiel cleared his throat. "It's not Bobby, Sam."
"Who - Castiel?"
No one ever could ever pronounce his name in the way it was truly meant to be said but Sam always managed to mangle it more than most, and Castiel smiled at hearing Sam's particular way of saying it. "Hi, Sam."
"Why are you - is everyone okay?"
"Everyone's fine."
"I heard what happened, Cas. I'm... I'm sorry. I can't imagine what you're going through."
"It's... I'm... dealing with it. That isn't why I called. I wanted to speak with you."
He heard Sam sigh. "If you're calling me about the same thing Bobby's always bugging me about -"
"I don't even know what he's spoken to you about, Sam."
"Dean and I shouldn't be around each other. It's too dangerous."
Castiel blinked at Sam's response to his unspoken question. He didn't know what to expect for an answer, but that hadn't been it. More than anything, he hadn't expected Sam to agree with Dean. They rarely agreed on anything.
"Lucifer is after me, not anyone else. I've got a giant target on my back. I shouldn't be around anyone at all."
"Is that - that's why you and Dean won't even speak to each other?"
"It makes the most sense, Cas. If Lucifer or Michael get to either of us, we won't have anything to give up."
"That - that doesn't make any sense at all."
Sam sighed again. "Cas, I'm tired of arguing with Bobby about it, and I'm not going to start arguing with you about it."
"Sam -"
"I'm in the middle of something right now, Cas. I've gotta go." Sam cleared his throat. "Keep an eye on Dean for me."
"Sam!" Cas said, hoping he caught him before Sam hung up. "I can never be to Dean what you are. Please remember that."
Castiel heard Sam sniff in response. "Just make sure he doesn't do anything too crazy, okay? You know how he is."
By the time Castiel opened his mouth, Sam had already disconnected. He sighed, flipped the phone closed, and headed back inside.
"No luck, huh?" Bobby said as Castiel handed his phone back over.
"I don't understand them," Castiel said, shaking his head.
Bobby snorted. "I've been trying to understand those two for years."
* * *
Reports of the virus made it to hunters across the country, although it was clear that no one knew exactly what to make of it. When the revelation that sulfur was being detected in the infected blood, a few hunters that Bobby hadn't had contact with before were pointed in Bobby's direction. Word had apparently been put out that Bobby had information on what was happening, and Bobby's phone started ringing off the hook, to the point that Bobby turned his phone off at night.
Dean took to scouring the news to see if there were any hints of the virus, and Castiel began piecing together what he could remember of Roanoke, along with what little information he could find in the history books.
"The problem is that my brothers and I never expected it, and we didn't notice what had happened in Roanoke until the people of the colony were already missing." He leaned back from one of Bobby's books and rubbed his eyes. "We were never omniscient, and we hadn't known that the colony needed keeping an eye on. Even when Uriel went back -"
"That ass?"
Castiel ignored the comment. He still mourned the path Uriel had gone down, but he understood Dean's problems with him. "Even when Uriel went back through time to observe happenings on the island, he couldn't find the source of the virus."
"Is there any chance he was lying?" Dean asked. "I mean, you did tell me he was actually rooting for Lucifer to come back."
Castiel shook his head. "I doubt it, but it's hard to say for sure."
"So even the angels knew about as much Roanoke as we humans knew, then," Bobby said, rolling into the living room with a few beers.
"We did know it was demonic in origin, but that was it. We were never given a chance to study it."
"Do you... do you think it's a coincidence that the virus popped up again right after the angels left?" Dean asked.
Castiel frowned and took a sip of his beer. "I honestly don't know."
"Is it possible that the angels didn't just... leave?" Bobby asked quietly, and Castiel suppressed a sigh. Dean and Bobby acted as if they were walking on eggshells every time the topic of the angels' departure came up, and Castiel wished they wouldn't.
"It's the only possibility," Castiel said. "No demon or angel, not even Lucifer, could force the entire host to leave. And I know that my brothers and sisters were... tired." He cast his eyes away from the other two as a feeling of shame suddenly overtook him. "It's why they wanted the apocalypse to come to pass to begin with." He closed his eyes as he was reminded of the part he had played in causing the apocalypse. If he had only decided where his loyalties had laid sooner, the present events could have been completely different. Lucifer wouldn't have even been a threat.
"Stop that." Dean interrupted Castiel's thoughts.
"What?"
"I know that look. Just stop."
Castiel offered Dean a small smile. "I will if you do the same."
Dean snorted. "Right." Bobby passed another newspaper over to Dean, and their attention drifted away from him as they poured over the latest reports.
Castiel's fingers drifted up and landed on Dean's amulet, still resting against his chest underneath his shirt. Something had bothered him ever since the host left, but it was something he'd been shoving down, unsure if it was something he wanted to face.
He stood up, grabbed his beer and left the room, finding his way onto Bobby's porch. The summer air was beginning to cool down, and it helped him clear his head.
"Cas?"
Castiel closed his eyes. He'd been hoping Dean wouldn't have followed him out.
"Everything okay?"
Castiel didn't answer, and instead tipped his beer to his lips, guzzling down what remained of the bottle.
"Cas, c'mon. Talk to me." Dean came up beside Castiel and leaned against the rail of Bobby's porch, their arms brushing up against each other.
"Are you only checking with me because Bobby thinks we don't talk enough?"
He felt Dean stiffen up before letting out a laugh. "So you heard that?"
"Yes."
"Cas, look -"
Castiel cut Dean off with a wave of his hand. He again rested his fingers against the amulet, swallowed hard, and finally untucked the leather cord from his shirt and lifted it over his head. He rolled the amulet between his fingers before holding it out to Dean.
Dean's expression made it clear that he knew exactly what it meant, and blinked at it before he extended his hand to take the familiar necklace. "You're giving up?"
Castiel sighed. "I think I gave up months ago, Dean. It's obvious."
Dean didn't say anything, and Castiel was grateful for it.
"If my brothers and sisters were allowed to leave without resistance, our Father... it means God isn't anywhere that he can be found." He closed his eyes. "You were right, Dean. God is gone."
"Cas..."
"I don't even know if He was ever there to begin with," Castiel said. He turned around, and he hoped that Bobby would be willing to share whatever whiskey he had hidden away. "It wouldn't do any good for me to continue hoping for something that will never come."
* * *
Hunters began showing up at Bobby's for a first-hand account of exactly what was happening. The three of them shared what they could, and most hunters moved on when they got the information they came for. Once in a while, though, someone would stay for a night or two, and Castiel often found himself feeling even more claustrophobic than usual.
When Castiel had first taken Jimmy Novak as a vessel, he felt confined. Angels weren't meant to be contained in human skin, and he had felt cramped. When the host of angels had left, the skin started to feel more like his own, but it had still taken him quite some time for him to grow used to it.
Bobby's house became a type of command center, and the way people crowded into it made Castiel uncomfortable. More than once Dean found Castiel sitting out in the Impala with a beer or a bottle of whiskey, just to get away from the people and the noise. Dean teased him about being anti-social, but it was without spite.
One night Dean decided he was sick of Castiel hiding in his car, and he coaxed Castiel out of the Impala and up to Bobby's porch. They talked about everything and nothing, and Castiel appreciated the distraction.
The sun was just slipping down below the horizon when yet another car rolled up the dirt driveway. "Shit," Castiel said, exasperated at seeing yet another body added to the mix, and Dean laughed. For reasons Castiel couldn't understand, Dean was always amused when Castiel swore.
The car rolled to a stop, and a man neither Dean or Castiel recognized climbed out of the driver's seat, but when a second man appeared from the passenger side, Castiel felt as if his muscles locked up. He hadn't seen that face since he faced off against Raphael, and the memory of blinding light and excruciating pain froze him in place.
Chuck Shurley followed the hunter up the stairs in silence. He gave a small smile to Dean, but he stopped in his tracks when he spotted Castiel.
Castiel stared back, and he couldn't breathe. The last moments he'd been with Chuck kept replaying in his mind on repeat. Everything he felt was unfamiliar, and he found himself involuntarily tensing up, almost as if he was preparing for an archangel's power to break his body open again.
Dean looked back and forth between the two of them before placing a hand on Castiel's arm. "That's it," he muttered. He nodded to Chuck and the hunter in greeting, then turned Castiel around and marched him inside and up the stairs.
He never took his gaze off of Castiel, and he didn't speak until he shut the door with his shoe. "Cas, what's up?"
"It's ridiculous," Castiel said, taking a deep breath. He backed up until the back of his legs hit the bed, and he sat down, placing his head in one of his free hands. "I shouldn't be having this kind of reaction to him. The last time I saw him..."
Dean crouched down and tried to get Castiel's eyes to meet his own. "Cas, it's not exactly easy for me to think about, either. Raphael freaking killed you."
Castiel winced.
"Shit, I'm sorry," Dean said, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around Castiel's jeans. "I -"
"Dean, don't." Castiel shook his head. "I already know what happened there, and there's no use in reliving it. I just need... I just need to catch my breath."
He did just that, and Dean waited with him. Despite losing many of his angelic memories, his remembered his death as clear as daylight, and he found it difficult to simply shut it off. Castiel knew that he needed to, though - he would be of little use if he wasn't even able to deal with being in Chuck's presence.
Castiel took a deep breath, then offered Dean a smile in thanks for keeping his silence.
"We need to find out why he's here," Castiel said.
* * *
As it turned out, Chuck was about as thrilled to see Castiel again as Castiel was to see Chuck. Castiel may have been the one to be blown to pieces, but Chuck was the one who had seen it all unfold. Humans didn't tend to see people explode in front of their eyes, so Castiel supposed he could understand why Chuck had been so disturbed to see him.
Bobby ushered all of the hunters out of his kitchen and plunked a bottle of Johnnie Walker on the table, and Dean, Castiel, and Chuck stared each other down as he poured them each a glass.
"I haven't had a vision in a while," Chuck said after swallowing down his glass in one gulp. "I know that they left, though."
"How do you know?" Castiel asked.
"I kinda... felt them go," Chuck said. "It was like a vice suddenly let go of my brain."
"Did any of your last visions tell you anything? Why they left, or if they knew what was happening?" Castiel knew the answer to that wouldn't necessarily solve any of their current problems, but he couldn't help but wonder about the circumstances surrounding his brothers and sisters' departure.
Chuck shrugged. "A lot of the visions I got after that one vision - the one that sent you and Sam into a trap, Dean - they were all muddled. They didn't make much sense."
"Do you remember anything at all?" Dean asked, and Castiel could tell from Dean's tone of voice that 'anything at all' actually meant 'anything useful.'
"Just that this virus is gonna start wiping everyone out," Chuck said.
"Which we already know is a possibility," Bobby said.
"Anything else?" Dean pressed.
Chuck poured himself another glass of whiskey. He knocked it back and looked down, not meeting anyone's eyes. "The only other thing I saw for sure is that in the end, you're there."
"Me?" Dean asked.
Chuck nodded.
"I..." Dean leaned back in his chair and frowned. "Did you see anyone else?" Castiel knew he wasn't only wondering about himself and Bobby, but Sam, as well.
Chuck shrugged. "I saw some other people here and there, but I couldn't see any of their faces. But you're definitely there." Chuck shivered, and Castiel felt a chill run down his body, as well. "I don't know what happens after that."
"Was I... doing anything in the vision?"
Chuck shook his head. "I really couldn't see much of anything, Dean. I'm sorry, but it's all pretty useless."
"Then why did you come here?" Castiel asked.
Bobby snorted. "Boy, you haven't learned much tact, have you?" Castiel ignored him.
Chuck finally met Castiel's eyes, and Castiel noticed just how pale and tired Chuck appeared. "I didn't know where else to go. From what I can tell, the world's gonna crash and burn, but you're gonna keep fighting until the end."
Dean didn't say anything. He looked at Chuck for another moment before he pushed back from the table, swiftly heading out of the room. Castiel muttered an apology to Chuck and Bobby before following behind him.
He found Dean out on the porch, which seemed to have become their refuge since coming to Bobby's. Dean leaned against the railing, and Castiel could see the tension racing up and down Dean's back. "He's right, you know," Castiel said.
"I know," Dean said.
"If this world has any hope of surviving, it's because of you."
"And if that's what Chuck thinks, he's nothing but a fucking coward for coming here." Dean shook his head. "Do you know how much I hate that?"
"Chuck being afraid? Can you blame him?"
"No." Dean turned his head, and Castiel was struck by how lost Dean appeared. "I can't be the... the only hope for survival."
"Dean." Castiel grabbed Dean and turned him around, not wanting to continue speaking to Dean's back. "I know you hate it. But it's not much different from what people usually look to you for." He placed a hand on Dean's cheek. "You've saved countless lives, both by just... doing what you do, and also just by inspiring others to do what's right." Castiel smiled, knowing he himself was one of those who Dean had convinced to do the right thing. "Chuck might be here because he's a coward, but he's also here because he believes in you."
"I can't take that, Cas. I can't deal with that alone."
Castiel winced, but plowed on. "I know I'm not much of a substitute for Sam, but I'm with you. You're not alone."
Dean opened his mouth when Castiel mentioned Sam, but Castiel didn't let him say what was on his mind. Sam wasn't the point.
"We're all fighting blind here, Dean, but we do have more info than any other hunter going up against this thing. We might not know how to cure it, but we do know how it spreads, and we can at least figure out how to slow it down and how to keep people safe."
Dean pushed Castiel's hand away and shook his head. "I'm really not up for hearing whatever inspiring speech you're gearing up for, Cas."
"Too bad," Castiel said. "Even though you're much better at inspiring speeches than I am, anyway."
Dean gave Castiel a half smile, which Castiel considered to be a small victory.
"Whether you want it or not, people are going to look to you for guidance, Dean," Castiel continued. "And you're going to need to be there to give it. You're going to have to make people listen to you if they won't."
Dean frowned. "You kind of sound like a dick right now, Cas."
"You're calling me by your old nickname for the angels." Castiel couldn't help but laugh. "You are right about something, in that respect."
"That you're being a dick?"
"No," Castiel said, narrowing his eyes. "But I've seen what happens when humanity is sent into a panic over something and no one steps up to lead them. I have been alive for millennia, Dean, and I've seen it happen countless times. It never leads to anything but a quicker end."
Dean stared, and his throat bobbed as he took a deep swallow before he finally shook his head. "If you've been around for millennia, how old does that make me with my forty years in hell?"
"Don't change the subject."
Dean sighed. He stepped away from Castiel and leaned back against the railing again, his eyes cast downward. "Why does it have to be me, Cas?"
It was a question Castiel sometimes found himself asking. "Do you trust anyone else to take the lead?"
Dean didn't answer, his gaze still pointed down towards their feet. "I hate this," he muttered.
"So do I." Castiel wished for the impossible - that he could take the apocalypse and throw it into the sun, just so he could offer Dean some relief. "But there doesn't appear to be a choice."
Dean let out a noisy sigh and pushed himself away from the railing. "Damn it." He rubbed a hand across his eyes before looking at Castiel, and an unspoken need made them both reach for one another, somehow knowing that leaning on each other was the only thing they could do at that moment. Castiel brushed his lips across Dean's, and he felt as if something inside of him was breaking into pieces. He was the one laying all of this on Dean's shoulders when he wanted nothing more than to take it all away.
They stayed wrapped around each other for a few long minutes before Dean finally pulled away, cradling Castiel's face in his hands and placing a kiss on Castiel's forehead. "I hear you, Cas," he said quietly. "I wish you didn't have to say it, but I hear you."
Castiel closed his eyes. "I wish it didn't need to be said."
Dean let out a laugh. "I don't know about you, but I'm thinking that the only thing that's gonna make this night better is if we gank the rest of Bobby's Johnnie Walker."
* * *
Castiel woke up to a pounding headache, and again an empty bed. He wondered exactly what it was that had woken him, and after managing to get the nausea and headache under control, he wandered down the stairs and into the living room, where Bobby and the hunter that arrived with Chuck the night before were both cursing up a storm.
"- can't believe a fucking woman is about to steal the election," the hunter said.
"It's got less to do with her fucking genitals and more to do with the fact that she's a fucking idiot!" Bobby shouted.
Castiel listened for another minute and finally deduced that they weren't actually arguing but in fact agreeing with each other, though he couldn't determine exactly what had set them off. The smell of coffee enticed him into the kitchen, where he found Dean and Chuck sitting at the table with forlorn expressions. "What's going on?" Castiel asked.
Dean sighed, setting his coffee mug down with a bang. "You want the good news or the bad news?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Palin apparently 'released' the information that there is an extremely contagious blood-borne virus that can be blamed for all the recent upswing in violence across the country," Dean said, cynicism dripping from his words. "Her so-called 'team' that found this info has the theory that it's the same thing that wiped out the Roanoke Colony because of the word 'Croatoan' that's been found in some of these towns. Don't ask me why since it could just be chalked up to copycat cult shit, but the public is just eating it up."
"Do you think she's always been possessed?" Chuck asked.
"Palin is possessed?" Castiel asked, surprised. He'd only come across her name when they'd been scouring the news for hints of the virus. Her activities were extremely well-covered due to her campaigning for the presidency, which made it somewhat difficult to find news of anything else.
"Fuck if I know. She probably just got the info from some demon, and she jumped at the chance for a good playing card," Dean said. "She really seems too dumb for a demon."
"Isn't this a good thing, though?" Castiel asked. "If the public is aware of the virus and how it is spread, it may make it easier to prevent it from spreading as quickly." He paused. "Or is this the good news?"
Dean smiled blearily as Castiel sat down next to him. "No. The good news is actually kinda good, and Palin is really not good. Palin basically just guaranteed herself the election next month."
Castiel nodded as the situation became clearer. "So she is a person who could wind up in a position of significant power, and if she did actually gain the information from a demon she is potentially easy to manipulate."
Chuck blinked. "And here most of us were just mad beacuse she's a fucking idiot."
Dean grinned and gently bumped his shoulder into Castiel's, who groaned. His head still ached, and being jostled didn't help. "Cas is always the voice of reason."
"Don't run into me again until my head feels better," Castiel said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What's the actual good news?"
"Bobby's sick as shit of his house being invaded, so we're all being kicked out."
Castiel dropped his hand and stared at Dean. "That's good news?"
"The hunter who brought Chuck here last night - he came here with word of a little military camp that's wide open for us to move into. It's abandoned, but still in good shape, and it'll make a good base of operations. That means no more overcrowding and no more hiding in my car for you." Dean grinned. "And if we're actually going to try and convince people to get together and fight, we need somewhere to put them that isn't Bobby's living room."
Castiel found Dean's smile infectious, and he offered a small smile back. "You seem especially pleased about this." He considered what Dean had said. "More pleased than you did last night, anyway."
"Dude, no matter how shitty this place turns out, it's still..." He paused. "When I was growing up, we never stayed anywhere longer than a few months. These days I never stay somewhere for more than a few weeks. Even if it's just for strategic purposes or - whatever, it's almost like I'm gonna have a home."
"Well, personally, I'm less than thrilled," Chuck said, standing up. "I'm happy for you, Dean, really, but I know that I'll really be missing being able to have a shower in the morning."
"You don't have to come," Dean pointed out.
Chuck stared back at Dean for a moment before answering. "Yes, I do." He poured himself another cup of coffee and headed out into the living room, where Bobby could still be heard shouting about 'that fucking manipulative moron.'
Castiel glanced back over at Dean, who was still grinning at him. "You've never had this before," Castiel said quietly.
"No. And I'm not happy about the circumstances around it, but..." He paused and let out a laugh. "You wanna move in with me, Cas?"
Part Three