[FIC] THE PROMISE AT THE END OF THIS BOOK FOR DAYMARKET
Gift type: Fanfic
Title: The Promise at the end of this book
Author: electrolitestar
Recipient: daymarket
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 7004
Warnings: Language, Sex, Angst.
Spoilers: Seasons 4 & 5
Characters & Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Sam, Bobby, Trickster-Gabriel, Chuck.
Wordcount: 7532
Summary: When Sam finds a way to get Dean out of hell without any deals for his soul with the help of the Trickster, he jumps at the chance only to find it’s too late: Dean has already been saved. Now with Dean out of the hell, Sam, Dean, Bobby and now Castiel embark on a long journey to end the apocalypse; each one finding what real love and family are really all about.
Author notes: This is an AU version of seasons 4 & 5. No Ruby. No Demon Blood. Not even Adam. Just Sam and Dean against the world. Oh, but with the same Dean/Castiel LOVE and DESTINED TO BE TOGETHERNESS as before but better <3
daymarket wanted AWESOME!Sam and some hurt/comfort between Dean and Cas. It’s also an AU which she said she loves. I hope you enjoy!!! *smishes*
“Are you sure this is going to work? I’ve taken this shit before. I barely made it out.”
“Trust me.” His smile wraps around almost his entire face and Sam as apprehensive as he is knows this may be the only thing he has left.
“I don’t. But I will.” Sam drinks down the vile of liquid dream root and hands it back.
Gabriel; dressed up like The Trickster, at least to the naked eye, leans down in front of the younger Winchester.
“You know what to do right? Don’t take the scenic root and don’t stop to sight see. Find Dean, grab him and make your way out. You have ten minutes. In ten minutes I’m waking you up. This isn’t shit to mess around with. You know that. I don’t care if you see your fucking father down there. You grab Dean and that’s it. No time for revenge or sentimental horse shit.”
“I’ve never seen you so serious before. Since when do you care so much about Dean being in hell? Just a few short months ago you were preparing me for his demise.”
“Let’s just say I have a new investment in it.” Gabriel answers, standing back up. He pushes the vile deep into his pocket and watches as Sam’s eyes start to droop.
“Investment?” Sam yawns, swaying a bit. Within 2 seconds he falls back onto the bed, dead to world. Well, almost.
Gabriel pulls up the motel chair next to the bed and sets the timer on his fancy digital watch. A gift from Kali.
“Yeah. In you two.”
~~
Sam screams, slashing upright, hand on his chest, other arm flailing.
Gabriel grabs him by the shoulders, shaking him out of his dream like…more like nightmare, state.
“Sam. Look at me. What happened? Where is Dean?”
Sam is shaking, sweating and he is covered in black soot. He looks like he just crawled through a burnt down building.
Or hell.
“He’s…” He can barely talk; his throat raw and dry. “…gone. Dean’s gone.”
Gabriel’s whole body turns ice cold and he stumbles backward, gripping the back of the chair so he doesn’t fall to the ground.
“It’s too late.”
“What’s too late? What are you talking about? What’s going on??” Sam half yells, his voice straining.
“So it is written so it shall come to pass…” He whispers.
“What?”
Gabriel looks down at the defeated man in front of him. “I know where Dean is.”
Sam’s eyes widen. “Where?” He attempts to stand, but wobbles slightly. He quickly sits back down.
“Here. He’s been saved.”
~~
Dean Winchester sits on Bobby Singers ratty old couch, staring at his bloody hands.
Hands that just dig himself out of his own grave.
“You okay, kid?”
Dean looks up at Bobby, still feeling as though this is some kind of weird dream. Just a tease; something for Alistair to laugh about when he begins to torture him again.
“Yeah. No.”
Bobby hands Dean a tumbler of Whiskey and pulls up a chair.
“I left Sam a voicemail. He’ll come.”
“When’s the last time you saw him?”
“It’s been months. He’s been searching and searching for a way to get you out of there. Last thing I heard is he may have found a way.”
“Oh he did alright. But it is bad mojo. You should have seen the gravesite. It looks like a nuke went off.”
“Give your brother some credit, Son. He wouldn’t have…”
“Made a deal? I did. And I know Sammy. He would…did too.” Dean downs the whiskey in one big gulp and leans back on the couch. “It’s what I would have done.”
Dean may have just gotten out of hell, dug his way out of his grave, but he has this warm feeling inside him. Something he can’t shake. He feels safe. Content. He knows deep down this couldn’t possibly be some sort of deal. He doesn’t feel the dread and regret and pain he normally does when one of them sacrifices themselves for the other.
He feels good.
He feels…alive. Maybe more so than he ever has.
He gently reaches under the sleeve of his t-shirt and touches the still hot and tender handprint of his arm. He’s good.
~~
Sam doesn’t knock. He doesn’t even breathe the entire drive to Bobby’s. He bursts through the door, large boots making large sounds on the hardwood floor.
“DEAN? DEAN!”
Bobby comes rushing out into the foyer, shushing him like a five year old kid.
“Shhh. He’s sleeping. Take it easy.”
“Take it easy? TAKE IT EASY? Do you have any idea…?” But Sam instantly silences when he sees his brother, curled up on Bobby’s plaid couch, sound asleep. Peaceful.
Alive.
“Is he….?”
“Okay? Yeah. He seems…great. No sign of demonic energy. He’s really Dean. “
Sam ventures slowly into the living room, kneeling down to peer at his sleeping brother. He pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and covers him with it, being careful not to wake him.
“Who did this Bobby?”
“It wasn’t you?”
Sam looks up at Bobby; confusion covering his face. “No. I tried…but…it…it didn’t work.” Sam didn’t want to elaborate right now. All that mattered is Dean was alive. And out of there.
“Well, I’m extremely happy your soul is in tack, Sam. But it does pose a puzzling question. If you didn’t pull Dean out, who or what did?”
A soft breeze, smelling of Lavender, ventures upon the air; spreading a sensation of solace to the two men.
When they both turn toward the doorway, neither frightens nor immediately go into hunter mode when they see a man dressed in a business suit and long trench coat standing there. Sam does stand though, shielding Dean from any possible harm.
The man cranes his neck, trying to look around Sam at his brother on the couch. His shoulders relax when he finds Dean asleep.
“Who are you?” Sam whispers. He isn’t afraid.
“I’m the one who gripped your brother tight and raised him from perdition.”
~~
The next few days were weird for Dean to say the least. Besides the fact that Sam and Bobby kept looking at him, watching him, as if any second he was either going to spontaneously combust or possibly disappear or maybe even fly off the deep end, going crazy; he also had an angel of the lord hanging around.
Also watching his every move.
He didn’t talk much, Castiel, but for some reason he didn’t have to. Sam filled Dean in on all the basics. Castiel, an angel of the lord, raised him from hell because God commanded it. When he asked more, Sam just shrugged telling him he really didn’t pry any more into it. It was God’s will after all.
And the few times he had Castiel alone so he himself could ask him questions about his resurrection, he found himself honestly not even caring.
“So like…are you possessing some poor bastard?”
Castiel looks down at his clothes, touching his trench coat gently. “He was a devout man. He actually prayed for this”
Dean blinks thinking he should feel something else than what he is feeling. Fear? He has none. Anger? Not even close.
He has questions but nothing really seems to matter.
“So why would God, rescue me from hell?” He finally asks as he and Castiel stare out the living room window at the sunset.
“Because we have work for you.”
~~
Sam kicks off his boots, stretching out his abnormally long toes on his abnormally large feet. Dean watches him, knowing that something has been off about him since he returned. He’s still Sam; kinda awkward and can never get out of his own way. But he seemed almost sad when Dean believes his brother should be happier that he’s back from hell, soul intact. And Sam’s as well.
“You gonna tell me what’s bothering you now?”
Sam looks up, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Bullshit. I’m getting a bit of a complex here, Sammy. I mean shouldn’t you be a little more excited that I’m not rotting away in my grave anymore?”
Sam swallows hard, looking away. “Yeah, and I had nothing to do with it.”
“Is that what this is about? The fact you didn’t sell your soul to the highest bidder to get me out of hell?”
“I was too late.” Sam whispers. “I tried, but I was too late.”
“Sam, I’m here. I’m fine. I’m a little confused as to why I’m here, but it doesn’t matter. We should be happy. Hell, be celebrating even. Hit a bar, pick up some woman.”
“How do you feel? I mean the things you must have seen, Dean. Down there…I…”
Dean tenses, feeling bile rise up in his throat. “I don’t remember anything. I remember being a hell hound’s chew toy, then lights out.” He lies.
“Lucky you.” Sam mumbles.
“Is there something else you’re not telling me?”
Sam looks down at his hands, suddenly fascinated with them.
“Sam.” Dean rumbles.
“Have you ever seen ‘Nightmare on Elm Street’?”
“This is what you wanna talk about right now?”
“Dean, I’m serious. Have you?”
Dean sighs heavily. “Yeah. Why?”
“You know how they end up killing Freddy Krueger because they pull him out of the dream world and into reality?”
Dean nods, trying to follow his brother’s rambling. “Yeah…”
“That’s real. It can happen.”
Dean’s eyebrows shoot up and he sits back in his chair. “And you know this how?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.” Dean says sternly.
Sam sighs and looks into his brothers eyes.
“The trickster.”
Dean’s eyes widen and he stands abruptly in his chair. “You’re trusting The Trickster now? What the hell happened to you while I was in the pit, Sam?”
“You don’t understand. He came to ME for help. He said he needed you out of hell just as much as I WANTED you out. It worked Dean. I used the dream root but…”
“But what, Sam? What happened?” Dean steps closer to his brother.
“I was too late. You were already gone.”
Dean’s blood runs cold. His heart begins to hammer away in his chest as mental images of Sam searching through hell for him invade his mind.
“Sammy, no…”
“It was horrible Dean. How…how did you do it? How did you stand it?” Sam’s voice cracks as the memories of aromas of burning flesh and sounds of torturous screams wash back over him.
“I don’t remember anything.” Dean lies again.
Sam shakes his head of the memories. “I’m sorry, Dean. I’m sorry it wasn’t me.”
“Sammy, stop. It doesn’t matter…”
“IT DOES MATTER!” Sam stands, fists clenched, screaming. “IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME! THAT’S THE WAY IT WORKS WITH US. ONE SACRIFICES HIMSELF AND THE OTHER FOLLOWS SUIT!”
“Well it SHOULDN’T be like that, don’t you see? Christ, Sammy. When it is it gonna end?”
Sam flops back down onto the old couch. “Sorry.” He mumbles.
“Tell me what happened, Sam. Tell me about what you saw.”
Sam swallows hard, squeezing his eyes shut as it washes back over him. “I mostly remember the sounds. The screams and moans. And the smell. Like burning flesh and blood.”
Dean shudders as everything Sam is describing stings his skin like a bad nightmare. “Yeah.”
Sam opens his eyes, looking at his older brother. “I’m glad you don’t remember anything, Dean. If I had to live with the fact that you had to endure any of that torture, I’m not sure I’d be able to handle it.”
Dean feels bile rise in his throat. “Yeah. Good thing.”
~~
“You should not be lying to your brother.”
Dean rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. He can never have any alone time since he got back. Everyone is watching him. Even at 3am when Sam and Bobby are asleep and Dean goes out into the salvage yard, just to sit with his baby, have a beer and listen to the silence, here comes the annoying angel with words of wisdom and sheer awkwardness.
“I think you should mind your own business.”
“You are my business, Dean. You and your brother need to stick together. Something is coming, and you’re stronger together.”
“Your business, huh?” Dean snorts taking a long drink from his beer. “What? You rescue me from hell and you own me now?”
Castiel turns his head to look at him, again way to close to than Dean is used to, and for the first time Dean sees Castiel relaxed. “No. Quite the opposite. I belong to you.”
~~
“Do something about your angel.”
Sam glares at Dean from across the room as Castiel stands in between them. The sun is barely lifted into the new morning sky and Dean squints, still half asleep.
“Cas. Seriously. It’s not even 6am.”
“I have no concept of time, Dean. I am here when I am here.”
“Yeah, we see that.” Sam throws the blanket off his bare legs and stumbles down the hallway into the bathroom.
Dean throws his arm over his face and begs his mind to go back to the dream he was just having about him and 2 blondes in a motel room.
“Are you going to be sleeping much longer?”
Dean growls and peeks out from behind his arm. “What?”
“I need to speak with you. Alone. How much longer will you need to rest?”
Dean sighs, kicking the blanket off his legs and sits up; his hair sticking every which way. “Fine. I’m up. Christ.”
Castiel seems pleased and Dean quickly dresses, keeping an eye on him as Castiel keeps his eyes fixed on Dean.
“We can talk, but I need breakfast.” Dean grumbles as he pushes past the angel and heads toward the front door.
~~
Castiel eyes the stereo as classic rock streams from the speakers. “The harmony of this is quite pleasing to the ears.”
Dean raises an eye brow, peaking a quick glance at him. “This is Metallica.” He smirks. “Good taste.”
Castiel nods, his eyes wandering out the car window at the passing scenery. “It is quite boring in this town.”
“I’ve been telling Bobby that for years. He won’t move though.”
“No. I suppose he wouldn’t. This is where he and his wife resided.”
Dean glances at Castiel. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve kept watch on you for years before your resurrection, Dean. I know about your family, your friends. Even the woman you chose to keep company with. This was long foretold.”
“What? Me going to hell?”
“Yes.”
“Awesome. So what now?”
Castiel turns, keeping steady eyes on Dean. “Now you do what you always do. You fight. Harder than you’ve ever fought before.”
Dean pulls into a parking space at the diner and turns off the ignition. “I’m a little rusty.”
“I suppose you would be. But this isn’t just physical fighting, Dean. You need to be strong emotionally. You have a lot of tough decisions ahead of you. I do not envy you.”
Dean grips the steering wheel. “Is it Sam?”
Castiel reaches out, touching Dean’s hand gently. “Yes.”
~~
Castiel stares down into his black coffee and then back up at Dean. “I do not require beverages, Dean.”
“Just drink it.”
Castiel sips the hot liquid as Dean shoves pancakes into his mouth. This is weird. Weirder than weird. He’s sitting across the table at a diner with an angel. An angel, which here is the weirdest of all, has some how become his friend. He tells more to this angel than he does his own brother.
“So how much do you know?” Dean asks, swallowing.
“Know?”
“About my time in hell.”
“Oh yes. That.” Castiel’s eyes wander out the large windows into the parking lot. “Everything.”
“Great.”
“It is nothing to be ashamed of, Dean. You did what you needed to do to survive. There is no blame to be put on you. But you cannot dwell on what has happened. We need to move forward now. We need to prepare for what’s coming.”
“And what exactly is coming?”
“You need to keep a close eye on your brother, Sam. Right now he is strong, but he has it inside him to become weak.”
“I’m not following you here, Cas. Like I’m five years old here.”
Castiel huffs a little, and Dean finds is ridiculously adorable.
“Lucifer. Lucifer is going to rise. And there is nothing we can do about it.”
“Wait, WHAT?” Dean leans across the table. “There has to be.”
“No. What is written will come to pass. But…there is a way to change the ending. But you need to keep an eye on Sam.”
“Okay, what? He gonna go all dark side into Lucifer’s team or something?”
“Precisely.”
Dean chokes on his piece of bacon and stares wide eyed and open mouthed at Castiel. “How. Why?”
“I don’t know. But I know someone who may.”
~~
“You’re kidding me, right? This guy? A prophet? He’s practically and Penthouse forum writer!”
Dean waves his hand out toward, The “Prophet” Chuck, who is standing there in boxer shorts and a worn out robe. He’s looks like he has not shaved let alone showered in weeks.
“He’s a mouth piece. A conduit for the spoken word.”
“Word? Word of God?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Chuck and Dean both say in unison.
Castiel’s eyes slide up from the books in front of him to Dean’s green eyes. “I am not…kidding you.”
“Right. Anyway, do you know anything? About Sam? About this showdown with Lucifer is supposed to happen?”
Chuck shakes his head. “I’m not psychic. I’m just a writer. I can’t see that far into it.”
“Well you sure as hell have been right so far!” Dean screams.
“Dean. Calm down.” Castiel orders.
Dean practically growls. “This is crazy.”
“Chuck, if you hear or see anything, please contact us. It is most important we learn of Lucifer’s rising before anyone else. This way we can make sure he cannot get to Sam.”
“Okay, enough of the riddles. Out with it. Now. What does Lucifer want from Sam?”
Chuck and Castiel exchange nervous glances.
“You tell him.” Chuck whispers.
Castiel glares. “You are the prophet.”
“You rescued him from hell!” Chuck exclaims.
Castiel sighs heavily, defeated. He turns back to look at his charge.
“Lucifer needs a vessel. His true vessel, in order to bring on the Apocalypse.”
“So?”
“Sam is his true vessel.”
Dean gapes at the angel, stepping toward him, and craning his neck out. “Excuse me?”
“It’s the prophecy.”
“Screw the prophecy. Sam would never…”
“So it is written, so it shall come to pass.”
~~
“You’re kinda freaking me out.” Sam uncomfortably looks at Dean who is staring him down across Bobby’s kitchen table. Bobby himself is leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded; eyes squinted, eyeing Sam like some sort of caged animal.
Oh right. And the angel who is standing next to seated Dean, a little too close, as per usual.
“Well I am freaked out, to say the least.” Dean answers. Castiel peers at Sam, like he’s trying to hear his thoughts.
“Stop that.”
Castiel huffs, he’s been doing that a lot lately, and turns around and begins to pace the kitchen.
“Guys, seriously. I get your concern. But this is ridiculous. There is no way in hell, no pun intended, that I am going to say yes to becoming Lucifer’s vessel!”
“So it is written-“
“Yeah. We got it, Cas.” Dean interrupts.
~~
Dean cracks open a bottle of beer and hands it to his younger brother. Sam takes it, smiling a little and takes a small sip, his eyes wandering out over the canyon. Sam likes it here. It’s peaceful.
Dean leans against the hood of the Impala, eyes squinting at the sun shining down on them.
“You trust me, right Dean?”
Dean eyes Sam; the boy with the demon blood as Castiel once branded him with. But he doesn’t see that. He never did.
He actually sees Sam 8 years old again. Playing with the Lego’s in the Impala; sticking them into the heating vents. This memory makes him smile.
Sam would always be that kid to him. Innocent. Free.
“Yes.” Dean answers with no hesitation.
~~
Castiel finds Dean depressed and torn in the Saddle River motel in Big Springs, Nebraska.
He puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder as his body lay curled up on the small twin bed. Castiel can feel the pain radiating from him.
“You needed to tell him. He needed to know.” Castiel reminds him.
Dean clears his throat. “I know.” His voice is still quivering.
“You should feel no shame for what you needed to do to survive, Dean. A lesser man would have caved much sooner.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Dean growls, pushing Castiel away from him. He sits up, his back to the angel, his face buried in his hands.
“Dean.”
“Go away.”
“Dean.”
“Just leave me alone.”
“I cannot do that.”
Dean sighs, removing his hands from his face and looking over his shoulder at Castiel. “Fine. Then stay.”
He lies back down, this time facing him. Castiel hesitates at first but then puts his body in the same position as Dean; their noses practically touching. Dean’s eyes flutter open, his breathing rushed. Castiel feels the warmth and softness of the pillow underneath his head. It feels…good. It feels even better being this close to Dean.
Dean cranes his head, almost now lying on his back. Castiel knows, somehow, this may be the most intimate thing Dean has ever experienced. They aren’t even touching. They are both barely breathing. But he’s feeling. Castiel is feeling things…and it’s overwhelming and scary and…perfect. Dean’s long lashes mask his green eyes and his full bottom lip separates from his top and the tiny freckles that line his nose and cheeks…
Castiel kisses Dean’s bottom lip; his top lip resting right underneath his nose.
Dean doesn’t move. He doesn’t move away but he doesn’t move closer. He lies still, allowing Castiel to test him. To experiment with things he shouldn’t.
He’s close to blasphemy.
And he doesn’t care.
When Castiel is finished practicing on Dean’s lower lip, he pulls back to find Dean’s eyes closed. His breathing is normal and the tears that had been flowing from his emerald eyes are now all dried up.
Dean is near sleep and Castiel covers Dean with the rough motel blanket and watches him sleep till morning comes.
~~
“Dean…” Sam begins.
“Don’t. I’m serious, Sam. Just…don’t.”
Sam swallows hard and sits gently on the edge of the bed. “This is all my fault.”
Dean whips around, eyes burning like hell itself. “Don’t. I swear to GOD Sam, don’t you fucking blame yourself for this.”
“If I had gotten to you sooner! Found another way!”
Dean grabs the front of Sam’s shirt, snarling, tears forming in his green eyes. “I said DON’T!”
They are both shaking and as quick as Dean was to grab Sam violently now he is hugging his little brother; clinging to him for dear life.
“What did Cas say? Is it true?”
Dean nods, catching his breath against his brothers shoulder.
“Did he say anything else?”
“The righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it.”
~~
~~
The next couple of months are filled with many hard decisions, just like Castiel had warned. Dean keeps a close watch on Sam, and Sam continues to prove his instincts wrong every time when it came to his strength.
When Lucifer finally rises, because of Sam, Dean doesn’t blame Sam once. Hunting down Lilith was something they both wanted. Something they both had been working for all year. Castiel tried to warn them, too little too late, about the consequences of what killing Lilith would do. Neither of them listened though. If anyone was to blame, it was the brothers as a whole.
But Castiel blames himself the most. Even after his death and resurrection, he stays clear of the Winchester’s for a while. He feels that his presence would only cause more harm; look what he had done already. He stays up in heaven, running some errands, little things here and there to keep him busy, all the while watching over Dean.
At night, while Dean sleeps in an over-used motel bed, still plagued with nightmares; Castiel sits at the edge of his bed, watching him.
Castiel misses him. But the angels and himself, even with trying to help, had hurt him and Sam both too much.
It was best if he just stays far away.
But when Lucifer visits Sam in a dream, warning of things to come; death, horseman, plague, and lots of blood shed; it shakes the boys to the core.
And that’s when Dean calls for Castiel.
~~
“Come on, you son of a bitch. Where are you?” Dean speaks to the night sky filled with bright stars, like he’s already looking down on him. “Please.” He whispers.
Dean hears the familiar flap of wings and the wind rushes over his face through the parking lot.
Dean doesn’t turn around. His heart is hammering away in his chest so hard he’s having trouble breathing. It’s been a long time. Months. And for the first time in those months, Dean feels safe again.
“I’m sorry.” Are the first words out of Castiel’s mouth.
Dean laughs a little, shaking his head. “Sorry? I’ve been drowning down here, trying to keep it together, and you’re SORRY?”
“I also have been trying to ‘keep it together’”.
“What? In heaven? I could give a shit less, Cas.”
“No. Myself. I myself have been trying to keep it together. Without you.”
Dean finally turns around, eyes shimmering in the lights in the parking lot of the Red Lion Motel. Castiel cannot be sure if it’s just the way the light and the moon is hitting them, or Dean indeed is crying.
Either way, he is the most beautiful thing Castiel has ever seen.
“You’re really stupid, you know that?”
“I’ve been told, yes.” Castiel takes a step toward him, nervous. Months ago being this close to Dean wasn’t an obstacle. But now…
Without warning, without a blink of either of their eyes, even without a breath, Dean collapses into Castiel’s arms. Castiel’s arms immediately wrap around Dean’s strong body, holding him up as he is about to drop to his knees at any moment. Dean clutches the back of Castiel’s trench coat; clinging to him for dear life.
“I need your help. I…don’t know what to do, Cas.” Dean murmurs into the collar of his coat. “What am I supposed to do?”
“You’re doing all you can.”
“What about the prophecy? So it as written and all that bullshit?”
Castiel pulls back; face centimeters from Dean’s. “Since when does Dean Winchester ever believe in all that?”
Dean half smiles, rubbing his stubbled cheek against Castiel’s. “Never.” He whispers.
“Then don’t. Do it your way. And I’ll be right behind you.”
“You’re not leaving again?”
“I’m considering disobedience.”
Dean breathes hard against the angel’s ear; his body and heart feeling things he wasn’t sure was possible. Those words; disobedience; was taboo to him. He always followed his father’s orders. He always did just as he was told. Like a good little soldier.
Just like Castiel.
So to think of the two of them rebelling; fighting the good fight their way, turns Dean on in ways that could make even the most risqué of people blush.
“You already are.” Dean slides his hand down Castiel’s back, gripping fabric and flesh underneath his fingers. Castiel moans softly, turning his head so his lips meet Dean’s stubble.
“Yes.”
It isn’t an answer.
It’s an invitation.
~~
Sam pulls the sheet up over his bare chest and rests his arms behind his head. The motel room is dark, and for the first time in days, he and Dean are alone.
“You don’t need to hide it.” He finally says into the darkness.
He hears a heavy sigh from the other bed. “Hide what?”
“It’s obvious. And I’m cool with it. I just wish you would be honest with me. Even about this shit. We’re never gonna win this war if-“
“I care about him.” Dean admits.
“And?”
“And what?”
“You tell me.”
“You gonna make me spell it out for you?”
“Is he you’re…boyfriend?”
Dean snorts. “Fuck if I know. He’s barely even human. Leave it to me to always fall for the ones I can’t really have.”
Sam smiles, closing his eyes, letting his exhaustion take him over. “Oh, you have him.”
~~
When Jo and Ellen died, Castiel sat on the hood of the Impala with Dean from sunset to sunrise in total silence. He held his hand and ever so often looked over at him, just to make sure he was still breathing.
He was but barely.
The stars were beautiful; each one shining down on them like angels. Castiel basked in this. It comforted him.
When the sun finally kissed their chilled skin from the night before, Dean moaned as he sat up and stretched. Castiel stays lying down; looking up at the man he had promised his life to.
“Thanks.”
“For?”
“Staying with me. It’s hard to be alone right now.”
“I’m sure Sam needs someone right now too.”
Dean winces and rubs his palms over his worn jeans. “We’re the 'suffer in silence' type.”
“The day is grower nearer where your brother will be the only one you can count on. Don’t underestimate Lucifer. He will use whatever distance you and Sam put between each other against you.”
Dean sighs. “I know.”
“Family is the most important thing, trust me.”
Dean looks over his shoulder at him. “Do you miss heaven?”
“Sometimes.”
“Sorry.” Dean mumbles.
“I made a choice. I chose you. And I’d do it again.”
Dean smiles and leans down capturing his lips with Castiel’s. Castiel wraps his hand around the back of Dean’s neck and deepens the kiss. Their tongues dance to a song only they know and Dean gets comfortable again on the hood.
He’d do it again.
~~
“Are you idgit’s trying to kill me?” Bobby screams.
Sam sighs heavily and rubs his hand over his face. “It’s the best plan we’ve come up with.”
“We? Oh no, no, no. There is NO WE in this scenario. I do not approve of this plan, whatsoever so DO NOT bring me down with this WE crap!”
Castiel touches Dean’s arm, trying to calm him. He yanks away and Castiel tries to hide his disappointment.
“How else do you plan to beat Lucifer then? Huh? Tell me! Cause I haven’t heard one solid plan coming from any of you since we lost Jo and Ellen. There isn’t time for more planning and waiting around. We need to strike and we need to strike NOW. Or we just give up, cause I’m done sitting around.”
Everyone stares at the younger Winchester, eyes wide and hearts hammering, and in that moment Dean realizes something he had been trying to suppress; something he didn’t want to admit for the past 5 years.
Sam is an adult. And he’s been an adult for a long time.
And its time they start treating him that way.
“Sam’s right, Dean.” Bobby says. “He’s proven what a good hunter he is time and time again. You’ve always called the shots. Maybe its time we let Sam.”
Dean frowns a little, still not wanting to accept the facts. He looks over at Castiel, who is also nodding in total agreement with Bobby. Castiel tries one more time to reach out for Dean, this time Dean accepting; taking his hand in his.
Dean winces, but looks deep into Sam’s eyes. “Fine. It’s time I let you grow up. I don’t like it, it’s against everything I stand for, but the floor is yours.”
Sam smiles at his older brother, and nods. “Here is what we do…”
~~
Dean keeps the speedometer at 55 as he travels down the deserted highway back to Bobby’s from the last hunt they may be doing for a long time. He peaks into the backseat at Castiel; sound asleep.
“Aw, ain’t he a little angel?”
Sam looks back behind him at the sleeping man.
“Angel’s don’t sleep.”
Dean remains quiet, knowing fully well that Sam is indeed correct. Castiel is as much human as he and Sam are. A part of him wants to smile at this. And the other part makes his chest ache with regret and guilt.
“There's something I got to talk to you about.”
“What?”
Sam takes a deep breath. “This thing goes our way and I...Triple lindy into that box... Y-you know I'm not coming back.”
Dean feels his throat begin to close. “Yeah, I’m aware.”
“So you gotta promise me something.”
“Okay. Yeah. Anything.” Dean glances at his brother.
“You got to promise not to try to bring me back.”
Dean glares. “What? No, I didn't sign up for that.”
“Dean…” Sam begins.
“Your hell is gonna make my tour look like Graceland. Y-you want me just to sit by and do nothing?”
“Once the cage is shut, you can't go poking at it, Dean. It's too risky.” Sam demands.
Dean’s voice begins to shake. “No, no, no, no, no. As if I'm just gonna let you rot in there.”
“Yeah, you are. You don't have a choice.”
Dean shakes his head. “You can’t ask me to do this.”
“I’m sorry, Dean. You have to.”
Dean feels his world begin to shatter around him. “Than what am I supposed to do?”
“You and Cas live some normal apple-pie life. You keep hunting. Remember what Dad taught you. And I’d like to believe I taught you some stuff too.”
Dean grips the steering wheel tighter and blinks back the stinging tears.
“Dean. Promise me.”
Even though the Impala rumbles down the highway at 55, Dean closes his eyes and tries to imagine his life, again, without Sam.
“I promise.”
~~
Castiel tries to tell Dean he should be with his brother tonight, but Dean insists he wants some time with him first. Castiel nods, getting into the Impala without anymore questions. Dean drives, for what seems like forever, down back roads; the headlights pointed out towards nowhere. Dean grips Castiel’s hand tightly the whole ride, the heat blasting from the vents; causing moisture on their skin.
“Where are we going?” Castiel asks gently afraid to disturb the beast that he knows is restless inside Dean tonight.
“Someplace my Dad used to take me when I was little. We used to come and visit Bobby once in a while. One of the only times my Dad did anything ‘father/son’ like with me was when he took me to lake to go fishing. Whenever we visit Bobby and I need some place to wind down I come here.” Dean glances at him. “And now I wanna show you.”
Castiel smiles and squeezes Dean’s hand.
The Impala’s tires crunch over the rocks and dirt on the path that lead to the lake as the night takes over the sky. Castiel can already see the twinkle of the stars and moon off the water and again he feels at peace knowing that no matter what, heaven is always watching over them.
Dean puts the Impala in park and turns off the engine. He sits silently for a few moments.
“This is our last night on earth.”
“You don’t know that.” Dean barks back and pulls his hand away.
Dean is the king of hurt emotions.
“Where is Sam?”
“Don’t start.”
“If this is indeed your last night on earth, shouldn’t you be spending it with him?”
“And what about us, huh? What about our last night together?”
“He is your brother. I am…”
“You’re everything. You’re more than everything. I’m not sure how I could have…” Dean trails off, shaking his head and looking away.
“I didn’t do anything. I was your friend.”
“Friend? Friend? That’s what you think we are?”
Castiel sighs. “I am not sure how you label things down here. I have given everything I have for you. If I had a soul I would have given you that as well.”
“You don’t have a soul?”
Castiel shrugs. “Well if you count my grace…”
“You still have it?”
“Some of it. Most of it has fizzled since my rebellion.” Castiel looks over at Dean. “But what I have left I’d give to you if I knew it would make any of this a little less painful.”
Dean’s features soften. “Cas…”
“So label it however you want, Dean. That’s how I feel. I don’t think any label will suffice that.”
They spend the rest of the night in the back of the Impala; the water in front of them; the light of the thousands of stars and moon shining down over them like the thousands of guardian angels and God himself; lighting the way to bliss and love.
Dean whispers things to Castiel he has never said to anyone. Promises. Fears. Everything inside his mind he spills for Castiel to hear. Castiel takes it all, offering a little truth of his own.
That he had never known true love till he met Dean. That he always thought love was something that just was. Something God created. And maybe that is still true. But he’s learned from Dean that love is hard work. That love is earned and it takes time to flourish. That real love, the kind that defines the soul and reaches in and takes everything that’s inside you leaving you empty and yearning for more, is the only love that really matters.
The kind of love he sees between the two brothers. Unconditional love that causes sacrifice and consequences. The kind of love worth fighting for.
The kind of love he sees between Bobby and the two brothers. Fatherly love coming from someone who did not have any part of conceiving these boys. But he’s kept them together. He’s helped mold them into the men they are today. The kind of love you’d die defending.
And the kind of love that he and Dean now have. Love that started off as understanding and respect. Love that started off as orders from heaven. But this love became a profound bond. Something neither of them expected, but it became something they could not deny. Castiel had become Dean’s best friend. His lover. His…
Everything.
Dean makes love to Castiel all night. He touches him in ways, emotionally and physically, Castiel wasn’t even sure he could experience.
If there was any part of him that was holding onto heaven, tonight was the night Castiel finally let go.
Falling asleep in Dean’s arms as the sun rose over the lake, Castiel knew he was now truly human.
~~
Endings are hard.
Everyone wants a happy ending but the bottom line sometimes there isn’t one.
But maybe happy endings are open for interpretation. Maybe happily ever after is a myth. Saved for Disney movies you show your kids before bed time so they have sweet dreams.
That isn’t reality. And Sam and Dean know this.
Dean, Bobby, Castiel…hell even Sam himself knew that Sam wouldn’t make it. They knew jumping into the cage was the worst idea. Bobby hugged Sam goodbye the night before the showdown; the night before Sam gave himself over to Lucifer; telling him hold on tight and don’t let go. Don’t give an inch.
But he and Sam both knew…no matter how hard Sam fought or held on…once he was inside…one he was Lucifer…there was no coming back from that.
Dean was beside him though, every step of the way. He went down fighting too. There was no epic battle between Michael and Lucifer. Without Dean saying yes, all there was Sam saying yes to Lucifer and using the helpful hint from Gabriel about the horseman’s rings, to open the gateway back down to hell. Lucifer didn’t plan on the love between the two brothers; the love they had built and never once diminished through all these years; would get him locked back down inside his cage for eternity.
Lucifer didn’t count on the trust between the brothers being the strongest thing in the world.
So when the gateway opened in Stull Cemetery and Sam giving his brother one last smile and nod of admiration before he jumped into the pit, Lucifer didn’t count on the Winchester brothers to give him a run for his money. He didn’t expect the brother’s to have a plan. Or an ally on the inside.
“You can’t trick a trickster.”
Dean hears Gabriel’s words echoing in his mind as he gives his brother one final nod.
Sam may have been Lucifer’s vessel. He may have had demon blood in him. He may have even has some darkness in him. But he had something greater than all those. More powerful.
He had the love of his brother.
So maybe this was a test, for Sam and Dean. Up against good, evil, Angels, devils, destiny, and god himself, They made their own choice. They chose family.
And well, isn’t that really the whole point?
~~
Dean stares out of the motel windows, hand wrapped around the curtain. Castiel watches him from the bed with a concerned look.
“Dean?”
‘Yeah?” Dean shakes himself out of his daze and draws the curtains closed.
“That doctor show is on. Did you wanna watch?”
Dean half smiles, walking over to Castiel and running his hand gently over his cheek. He leans down and presses his lips firmly to the new human. “Yeah, sounds great.”
Dean settles into bed, turning the TV on and wrapping his arm loosely around Castiel.
Dean misses his brother. For the first few months all he wanted to do was die. He drank too much, and broke everything in site. Castiel never left his side. He rubbed his back when Dean got sick from drinking too much. He cleaned up the motel rooms when Dean broke the lamps and mirrors. And he let Dean scream at him when he just needed to yell.
Dean has gotten better but all he thinks about is a way to bring Sam back. Between simple hunts he researches ways to get Sam out of the cage. The pain is dulled by Castiel, who still remains by his side. Dean is loved. He is watched over. He is cared for. And he promises, at least in his head, to make it up to Castiel. That one day things will be better. One day he will wake up and the pain won’t be so bad. One day he will repay Castiel for all he has done for him.
But Castiel has enough. He has Dean. And to him, that’s enough. It’s all he ever wanted.
“You okay?” Cas asks, his eyes growing heavy with exhaustion.
Dean looks down at him and kisses his forehead gently.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
No doubt endings are hard, but nothing ever really ends does it?
~~
A street lamp flickers and finally zaps out on Main Street.
Hazel eyes focus and burn on the hotel room windows 15 feet in front of him. The figure remains tall and straight, hands at his side, expression…null.
Title: The Promise at the end of this book
Author: electrolitestar
Recipient: daymarket
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 7004
Warnings: Language, Sex, Angst.
Spoilers: Seasons 4 & 5
Characters & Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Sam, Bobby, Trickster-Gabriel, Chuck.
Wordcount: 7532
Summary: When Sam finds a way to get Dean out of hell without any deals for his soul with the help of the Trickster, he jumps at the chance only to find it’s too late: Dean has already been saved. Now with Dean out of the hell, Sam, Dean, Bobby and now Castiel embark on a long journey to end the apocalypse; each one finding what real love and family are really all about.
Author notes: This is an AU version of seasons 4 & 5. No Ruby. No Demon Blood. Not even Adam. Just Sam and Dean against the world. Oh, but with the same Dean/Castiel LOVE and DESTINED TO BE TOGETHERNESS as before but better <3
daymarket wanted AWESOME!Sam and some hurt/comfort between Dean and Cas. It’s also an AU which she said she loves. I hope you enjoy!!! *smishes*
“Are you sure this is going to work? I’ve taken this shit before. I barely made it out.”
“Trust me.” His smile wraps around almost his entire face and Sam as apprehensive as he is knows this may be the only thing he has left.
“I don’t. But I will.” Sam drinks down the vile of liquid dream root and hands it back.
Gabriel; dressed up like The Trickster, at least to the naked eye, leans down in front of the younger Winchester.
“You know what to do right? Don’t take the scenic root and don’t stop to sight see. Find Dean, grab him and make your way out. You have ten minutes. In ten minutes I’m waking you up. This isn’t shit to mess around with. You know that. I don’t care if you see your fucking father down there. You grab Dean and that’s it. No time for revenge or sentimental horse shit.”
“I’ve never seen you so serious before. Since when do you care so much about Dean being in hell? Just a few short months ago you were preparing me for his demise.”
“Let’s just say I have a new investment in it.” Gabriel answers, standing back up. He pushes the vile deep into his pocket and watches as Sam’s eyes start to droop.
“Investment?” Sam yawns, swaying a bit. Within 2 seconds he falls back onto the bed, dead to world. Well, almost.
Gabriel pulls up the motel chair next to the bed and sets the timer on his fancy digital watch. A gift from Kali.
“Yeah. In you two.”
~~
Sam screams, slashing upright, hand on his chest, other arm flailing.
Gabriel grabs him by the shoulders, shaking him out of his dream like…more like nightmare, state.
“Sam. Look at me. What happened? Where is Dean?”
Sam is shaking, sweating and he is covered in black soot. He looks like he just crawled through a burnt down building.
Or hell.
“He’s…” He can barely talk; his throat raw and dry. “…gone. Dean’s gone.”
Gabriel’s whole body turns ice cold and he stumbles backward, gripping the back of the chair so he doesn’t fall to the ground.
“It’s too late.”
“What’s too late? What are you talking about? What’s going on??” Sam half yells, his voice straining.
“So it is written so it shall come to pass…” He whispers.
“What?”
Gabriel looks down at the defeated man in front of him. “I know where Dean is.”
Sam’s eyes widen. “Where?” He attempts to stand, but wobbles slightly. He quickly sits back down.
“Here. He’s been saved.”
~~
Dean Winchester sits on Bobby Singers ratty old couch, staring at his bloody hands.
Hands that just dig himself out of his own grave.
“You okay, kid?”
Dean looks up at Bobby, still feeling as though this is some kind of weird dream. Just a tease; something for Alistair to laugh about when he begins to torture him again.
“Yeah. No.”
Bobby hands Dean a tumbler of Whiskey and pulls up a chair.
“I left Sam a voicemail. He’ll come.”
“When’s the last time you saw him?”
“It’s been months. He’s been searching and searching for a way to get you out of there. Last thing I heard is he may have found a way.”
“Oh he did alright. But it is bad mojo. You should have seen the gravesite. It looks like a nuke went off.”
“Give your brother some credit, Son. He wouldn’t have…”
“Made a deal? I did. And I know Sammy. He would…did too.” Dean downs the whiskey in one big gulp and leans back on the couch. “It’s what I would have done.”
Dean may have just gotten out of hell, dug his way out of his grave, but he has this warm feeling inside him. Something he can’t shake. He feels safe. Content. He knows deep down this couldn’t possibly be some sort of deal. He doesn’t feel the dread and regret and pain he normally does when one of them sacrifices themselves for the other.
He feels good.
He feels…alive. Maybe more so than he ever has.
He gently reaches under the sleeve of his t-shirt and touches the still hot and tender handprint of his arm. He’s good.
~~
Sam doesn’t knock. He doesn’t even breathe the entire drive to Bobby’s. He bursts through the door, large boots making large sounds on the hardwood floor.
“DEAN? DEAN!”
Bobby comes rushing out into the foyer, shushing him like a five year old kid.
“Shhh. He’s sleeping. Take it easy.”
“Take it easy? TAKE IT EASY? Do you have any idea…?” But Sam instantly silences when he sees his brother, curled up on Bobby’s plaid couch, sound asleep. Peaceful.
Alive.
“Is he….?”
“Okay? Yeah. He seems…great. No sign of demonic energy. He’s really Dean. “
Sam ventures slowly into the living room, kneeling down to peer at his sleeping brother. He pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and covers him with it, being careful not to wake him.
“Who did this Bobby?”
“It wasn’t you?”
Sam looks up at Bobby; confusion covering his face. “No. I tried…but…it…it didn’t work.” Sam didn’t want to elaborate right now. All that mattered is Dean was alive. And out of there.
“Well, I’m extremely happy your soul is in tack, Sam. But it does pose a puzzling question. If you didn’t pull Dean out, who or what did?”
A soft breeze, smelling of Lavender, ventures upon the air; spreading a sensation of solace to the two men.
When they both turn toward the doorway, neither frightens nor immediately go into hunter mode when they see a man dressed in a business suit and long trench coat standing there. Sam does stand though, shielding Dean from any possible harm.
The man cranes his neck, trying to look around Sam at his brother on the couch. His shoulders relax when he finds Dean asleep.
“Who are you?” Sam whispers. He isn’t afraid.
“I’m the one who gripped your brother tight and raised him from perdition.”
~~
The next few days were weird for Dean to say the least. Besides the fact that Sam and Bobby kept looking at him, watching him, as if any second he was either going to spontaneously combust or possibly disappear or maybe even fly off the deep end, going crazy; he also had an angel of the lord hanging around.
Also watching his every move.
He didn’t talk much, Castiel, but for some reason he didn’t have to. Sam filled Dean in on all the basics. Castiel, an angel of the lord, raised him from hell because God commanded it. When he asked more, Sam just shrugged telling him he really didn’t pry any more into it. It was God’s will after all.
And the few times he had Castiel alone so he himself could ask him questions about his resurrection, he found himself honestly not even caring.
“So like…are you possessing some poor bastard?”
Castiel looks down at his clothes, touching his trench coat gently. “He was a devout man. He actually prayed for this”
Dean blinks thinking he should feel something else than what he is feeling. Fear? He has none. Anger? Not even close.
He has questions but nothing really seems to matter.
“So why would God, rescue me from hell?” He finally asks as he and Castiel stare out the living room window at the sunset.
“Because we have work for you.”
~~
Sam kicks off his boots, stretching out his abnormally long toes on his abnormally large feet. Dean watches him, knowing that something has been off about him since he returned. He’s still Sam; kinda awkward and can never get out of his own way. But he seemed almost sad when Dean believes his brother should be happier that he’s back from hell, soul intact. And Sam’s as well.
“You gonna tell me what’s bothering you now?”
Sam looks up, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Bullshit. I’m getting a bit of a complex here, Sammy. I mean shouldn’t you be a little more excited that I’m not rotting away in my grave anymore?”
Sam swallows hard, looking away. “Yeah, and I had nothing to do with it.”
“Is that what this is about? The fact you didn’t sell your soul to the highest bidder to get me out of hell?”
“I was too late.” Sam whispers. “I tried, but I was too late.”
“Sam, I’m here. I’m fine. I’m a little confused as to why I’m here, but it doesn’t matter. We should be happy. Hell, be celebrating even. Hit a bar, pick up some woman.”
“How do you feel? I mean the things you must have seen, Dean. Down there…I…”
Dean tenses, feeling bile rise up in his throat. “I don’t remember anything. I remember being a hell hound’s chew toy, then lights out.” He lies.
“Lucky you.” Sam mumbles.
“Is there something else you’re not telling me?”
Sam looks down at his hands, suddenly fascinated with them.
“Sam.” Dean rumbles.
“Have you ever seen ‘Nightmare on Elm Street’?”
“This is what you wanna talk about right now?”
“Dean, I’m serious. Have you?”
Dean sighs heavily. “Yeah. Why?”
“You know how they end up killing Freddy Krueger because they pull him out of the dream world and into reality?”
Dean nods, trying to follow his brother’s rambling. “Yeah…”
“That’s real. It can happen.”
Dean’s eyebrows shoot up and he sits back in his chair. “And you know this how?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.” Dean says sternly.
Sam sighs and looks into his brothers eyes.
“The trickster.”
Dean’s eyes widen and he stands abruptly in his chair. “You’re trusting The Trickster now? What the hell happened to you while I was in the pit, Sam?”
“You don’t understand. He came to ME for help. He said he needed you out of hell just as much as I WANTED you out. It worked Dean. I used the dream root but…”
“But what, Sam? What happened?” Dean steps closer to his brother.
“I was too late. You were already gone.”
Dean’s blood runs cold. His heart begins to hammer away in his chest as mental images of Sam searching through hell for him invade his mind.
“Sammy, no…”
“It was horrible Dean. How…how did you do it? How did you stand it?” Sam’s voice cracks as the memories of aromas of burning flesh and sounds of torturous screams wash back over him.
“I don’t remember anything.” Dean lies again.
Sam shakes his head of the memories. “I’m sorry, Dean. I’m sorry it wasn’t me.”
“Sammy, stop. It doesn’t matter…”
“IT DOES MATTER!” Sam stands, fists clenched, screaming. “IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME! THAT’S THE WAY IT WORKS WITH US. ONE SACRIFICES HIMSELF AND THE OTHER FOLLOWS SUIT!”
“Well it SHOULDN’T be like that, don’t you see? Christ, Sammy. When it is it gonna end?”
Sam flops back down onto the old couch. “Sorry.” He mumbles.
“Tell me what happened, Sam. Tell me about what you saw.”
Sam swallows hard, squeezing his eyes shut as it washes back over him. “I mostly remember the sounds. The screams and moans. And the smell. Like burning flesh and blood.”
Dean shudders as everything Sam is describing stings his skin like a bad nightmare. “Yeah.”
Sam opens his eyes, looking at his older brother. “I’m glad you don’t remember anything, Dean. If I had to live with the fact that you had to endure any of that torture, I’m not sure I’d be able to handle it.”
Dean feels bile rise in his throat. “Yeah. Good thing.”
~~
“You should not be lying to your brother.”
Dean rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. He can never have any alone time since he got back. Everyone is watching him. Even at 3am when Sam and Bobby are asleep and Dean goes out into the salvage yard, just to sit with his baby, have a beer and listen to the silence, here comes the annoying angel with words of wisdom and sheer awkwardness.
“I think you should mind your own business.”
“You are my business, Dean. You and your brother need to stick together. Something is coming, and you’re stronger together.”
“Your business, huh?” Dean snorts taking a long drink from his beer. “What? You rescue me from hell and you own me now?”
Castiel turns his head to look at him, again way to close to than Dean is used to, and for the first time Dean sees Castiel relaxed. “No. Quite the opposite. I belong to you.”
~~
“Do something about your angel.”
Sam glares at Dean from across the room as Castiel stands in between them. The sun is barely lifted into the new morning sky and Dean squints, still half asleep.
“Cas. Seriously. It’s not even 6am.”
“I have no concept of time, Dean. I am here when I am here.”
“Yeah, we see that.” Sam throws the blanket off his bare legs and stumbles down the hallway into the bathroom.
Dean throws his arm over his face and begs his mind to go back to the dream he was just having about him and 2 blondes in a motel room.
“Are you going to be sleeping much longer?”
Dean growls and peeks out from behind his arm. “What?”
“I need to speak with you. Alone. How much longer will you need to rest?”
Dean sighs, kicking the blanket off his legs and sits up; his hair sticking every which way. “Fine. I’m up. Christ.”
Castiel seems pleased and Dean quickly dresses, keeping an eye on him as Castiel keeps his eyes fixed on Dean.
“We can talk, but I need breakfast.” Dean grumbles as he pushes past the angel and heads toward the front door.
~~
Castiel eyes the stereo as classic rock streams from the speakers. “The harmony of this is quite pleasing to the ears.”
Dean raises an eye brow, peaking a quick glance at him. “This is Metallica.” He smirks. “Good taste.”
Castiel nods, his eyes wandering out the car window at the passing scenery. “It is quite boring in this town.”
“I’ve been telling Bobby that for years. He won’t move though.”
“No. I suppose he wouldn’t. This is where he and his wife resided.”
Dean glances at Castiel. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve kept watch on you for years before your resurrection, Dean. I know about your family, your friends. Even the woman you chose to keep company with. This was long foretold.”
“What? Me going to hell?”
“Yes.”
“Awesome. So what now?”
Castiel turns, keeping steady eyes on Dean. “Now you do what you always do. You fight. Harder than you’ve ever fought before.”
Dean pulls into a parking space at the diner and turns off the ignition. “I’m a little rusty.”
“I suppose you would be. But this isn’t just physical fighting, Dean. You need to be strong emotionally. You have a lot of tough decisions ahead of you. I do not envy you.”
Dean grips the steering wheel. “Is it Sam?”
Castiel reaches out, touching Dean’s hand gently. “Yes.”
~~
Castiel stares down into his black coffee and then back up at Dean. “I do not require beverages, Dean.”
“Just drink it.”
Castiel sips the hot liquid as Dean shoves pancakes into his mouth. This is weird. Weirder than weird. He’s sitting across the table at a diner with an angel. An angel, which here is the weirdest of all, has some how become his friend. He tells more to this angel than he does his own brother.
“So how much do you know?” Dean asks, swallowing.
“Know?”
“About my time in hell.”
“Oh yes. That.” Castiel’s eyes wander out the large windows into the parking lot. “Everything.”
“Great.”
“It is nothing to be ashamed of, Dean. You did what you needed to do to survive. There is no blame to be put on you. But you cannot dwell on what has happened. We need to move forward now. We need to prepare for what’s coming.”
“And what exactly is coming?”
“You need to keep a close eye on your brother, Sam. Right now he is strong, but he has it inside him to become weak.”
“I’m not following you here, Cas. Like I’m five years old here.”
Castiel huffs a little, and Dean finds is ridiculously adorable.
“Lucifer. Lucifer is going to rise. And there is nothing we can do about it.”
“Wait, WHAT?” Dean leans across the table. “There has to be.”
“No. What is written will come to pass. But…there is a way to change the ending. But you need to keep an eye on Sam.”
“Okay, what? He gonna go all dark side into Lucifer’s team or something?”
“Precisely.”
Dean chokes on his piece of bacon and stares wide eyed and open mouthed at Castiel. “How. Why?”
“I don’t know. But I know someone who may.”
~~
“You’re kidding me, right? This guy? A prophet? He’s practically and Penthouse forum writer!”
Dean waves his hand out toward, The “Prophet” Chuck, who is standing there in boxer shorts and a worn out robe. He’s looks like he has not shaved let alone showered in weeks.
“He’s a mouth piece. A conduit for the spoken word.”
“Word? Word of God?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Chuck and Dean both say in unison.
Castiel’s eyes slide up from the books in front of him to Dean’s green eyes. “I am not…kidding you.”
“Right. Anyway, do you know anything? About Sam? About this showdown with Lucifer is supposed to happen?”
Chuck shakes his head. “I’m not psychic. I’m just a writer. I can’t see that far into it.”
“Well you sure as hell have been right so far!” Dean screams.
“Dean. Calm down.” Castiel orders.
Dean practically growls. “This is crazy.”
“Chuck, if you hear or see anything, please contact us. It is most important we learn of Lucifer’s rising before anyone else. This way we can make sure he cannot get to Sam.”
“Okay, enough of the riddles. Out with it. Now. What does Lucifer want from Sam?”
Chuck and Castiel exchange nervous glances.
“You tell him.” Chuck whispers.
Castiel glares. “You are the prophet.”
“You rescued him from hell!” Chuck exclaims.
Castiel sighs heavily, defeated. He turns back to look at his charge.
“Lucifer needs a vessel. His true vessel, in order to bring on the Apocalypse.”
“So?”
“Sam is his true vessel.”
Dean gapes at the angel, stepping toward him, and craning his neck out. “Excuse me?”
“It’s the prophecy.”
“Screw the prophecy. Sam would never…”
“So it is written, so it shall come to pass.”
~~
“You’re kinda freaking me out.” Sam uncomfortably looks at Dean who is staring him down across Bobby’s kitchen table. Bobby himself is leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded; eyes squinted, eyeing Sam like some sort of caged animal.
Oh right. And the angel who is standing next to seated Dean, a little too close, as per usual.
“Well I am freaked out, to say the least.” Dean answers. Castiel peers at Sam, like he’s trying to hear his thoughts.
“Stop that.”
Castiel huffs, he’s been doing that a lot lately, and turns around and begins to pace the kitchen.
“Guys, seriously. I get your concern. But this is ridiculous. There is no way in hell, no pun intended, that I am going to say yes to becoming Lucifer’s vessel!”
“So it is written-“
“Yeah. We got it, Cas.” Dean interrupts.
~~
Dean cracks open a bottle of beer and hands it to his younger brother. Sam takes it, smiling a little and takes a small sip, his eyes wandering out over the canyon. Sam likes it here. It’s peaceful.
Dean leans against the hood of the Impala, eyes squinting at the sun shining down on them.
“You trust me, right Dean?”
Dean eyes Sam; the boy with the demon blood as Castiel once branded him with. But he doesn’t see that. He never did.
He actually sees Sam 8 years old again. Playing with the Lego’s in the Impala; sticking them into the heating vents. This memory makes him smile.
Sam would always be that kid to him. Innocent. Free.
“Yes.” Dean answers with no hesitation.
~~
Castiel finds Dean depressed and torn in the Saddle River motel in Big Springs, Nebraska.
He puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder as his body lay curled up on the small twin bed. Castiel can feel the pain radiating from him.
“You needed to tell him. He needed to know.” Castiel reminds him.
Dean clears his throat. “I know.” His voice is still quivering.
“You should feel no shame for what you needed to do to survive, Dean. A lesser man would have caved much sooner.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Dean growls, pushing Castiel away from him. He sits up, his back to the angel, his face buried in his hands.
“Dean.”
“Go away.”
“Dean.”
“Just leave me alone.”
“I cannot do that.”
Dean sighs, removing his hands from his face and looking over his shoulder at Castiel. “Fine. Then stay.”
He lies back down, this time facing him. Castiel hesitates at first but then puts his body in the same position as Dean; their noses practically touching. Dean’s eyes flutter open, his breathing rushed. Castiel feels the warmth and softness of the pillow underneath his head. It feels…good. It feels even better being this close to Dean.
Dean cranes his head, almost now lying on his back. Castiel knows, somehow, this may be the most intimate thing Dean has ever experienced. They aren’t even touching. They are both barely breathing. But he’s feeling. Castiel is feeling things…and it’s overwhelming and scary and…perfect. Dean’s long lashes mask his green eyes and his full bottom lip separates from his top and the tiny freckles that line his nose and cheeks…
Castiel kisses Dean’s bottom lip; his top lip resting right underneath his nose.
Dean doesn’t move. He doesn’t move away but he doesn’t move closer. He lies still, allowing Castiel to test him. To experiment with things he shouldn’t.
He’s close to blasphemy.
And he doesn’t care.
When Castiel is finished practicing on Dean’s lower lip, he pulls back to find Dean’s eyes closed. His breathing is normal and the tears that had been flowing from his emerald eyes are now all dried up.
Dean is near sleep and Castiel covers Dean with the rough motel blanket and watches him sleep till morning comes.
~~
“Dean…” Sam begins.
“Don’t. I’m serious, Sam. Just…don’t.”
Sam swallows hard and sits gently on the edge of the bed. “This is all my fault.”
Dean whips around, eyes burning like hell itself. “Don’t. I swear to GOD Sam, don’t you fucking blame yourself for this.”
“If I had gotten to you sooner! Found another way!”
Dean grabs the front of Sam’s shirt, snarling, tears forming in his green eyes. “I said DON’T!”
They are both shaking and as quick as Dean was to grab Sam violently now he is hugging his little brother; clinging to him for dear life.
“What did Cas say? Is it true?”
Dean nods, catching his breath against his brothers shoulder.
“Did he say anything else?”
“The righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it.”
~~
~~
The next couple of months are filled with many hard decisions, just like Castiel had warned. Dean keeps a close watch on Sam, and Sam continues to prove his instincts wrong every time when it came to his strength.
When Lucifer finally rises, because of Sam, Dean doesn’t blame Sam once. Hunting down Lilith was something they both wanted. Something they both had been working for all year. Castiel tried to warn them, too little too late, about the consequences of what killing Lilith would do. Neither of them listened though. If anyone was to blame, it was the brothers as a whole.
But Castiel blames himself the most. Even after his death and resurrection, he stays clear of the Winchester’s for a while. He feels that his presence would only cause more harm; look what he had done already. He stays up in heaven, running some errands, little things here and there to keep him busy, all the while watching over Dean.
At night, while Dean sleeps in an over-used motel bed, still plagued with nightmares; Castiel sits at the edge of his bed, watching him.
Castiel misses him. But the angels and himself, even with trying to help, had hurt him and Sam both too much.
It was best if he just stays far away.
But when Lucifer visits Sam in a dream, warning of things to come; death, horseman, plague, and lots of blood shed; it shakes the boys to the core.
And that’s when Dean calls for Castiel.
~~
“Come on, you son of a bitch. Where are you?” Dean speaks to the night sky filled with bright stars, like he’s already looking down on him. “Please.” He whispers.
Dean hears the familiar flap of wings and the wind rushes over his face through the parking lot.
Dean doesn’t turn around. His heart is hammering away in his chest so hard he’s having trouble breathing. It’s been a long time. Months. And for the first time in those months, Dean feels safe again.
“I’m sorry.” Are the first words out of Castiel’s mouth.
Dean laughs a little, shaking his head. “Sorry? I’ve been drowning down here, trying to keep it together, and you’re SORRY?”
“I also have been trying to ‘keep it together’”.
“What? In heaven? I could give a shit less, Cas.”
“No. Myself. I myself have been trying to keep it together. Without you.”
Dean finally turns around, eyes shimmering in the lights in the parking lot of the Red Lion Motel. Castiel cannot be sure if it’s just the way the light and the moon is hitting them, or Dean indeed is crying.
Either way, he is the most beautiful thing Castiel has ever seen.
“You’re really stupid, you know that?”
“I’ve been told, yes.” Castiel takes a step toward him, nervous. Months ago being this close to Dean wasn’t an obstacle. But now…
Without warning, without a blink of either of their eyes, even without a breath, Dean collapses into Castiel’s arms. Castiel’s arms immediately wrap around Dean’s strong body, holding him up as he is about to drop to his knees at any moment. Dean clutches the back of Castiel’s trench coat; clinging to him for dear life.
“I need your help. I…don’t know what to do, Cas.” Dean murmurs into the collar of his coat. “What am I supposed to do?”
“You’re doing all you can.”
“What about the prophecy? So it as written and all that bullshit?”
Castiel pulls back; face centimeters from Dean’s. “Since when does Dean Winchester ever believe in all that?”
Dean half smiles, rubbing his stubbled cheek against Castiel’s. “Never.” He whispers.
“Then don’t. Do it your way. And I’ll be right behind you.”
“You’re not leaving again?”
“I’m considering disobedience.”
Dean breathes hard against the angel’s ear; his body and heart feeling things he wasn’t sure was possible. Those words; disobedience; was taboo to him. He always followed his father’s orders. He always did just as he was told. Like a good little soldier.
Just like Castiel.
So to think of the two of them rebelling; fighting the good fight their way, turns Dean on in ways that could make even the most risqué of people blush.
“You already are.” Dean slides his hand down Castiel’s back, gripping fabric and flesh underneath his fingers. Castiel moans softly, turning his head so his lips meet Dean’s stubble.
“Yes.”
It isn’t an answer.
It’s an invitation.
~~
Sam pulls the sheet up over his bare chest and rests his arms behind his head. The motel room is dark, and for the first time in days, he and Dean are alone.
“You don’t need to hide it.” He finally says into the darkness.
He hears a heavy sigh from the other bed. “Hide what?”
“It’s obvious. And I’m cool with it. I just wish you would be honest with me. Even about this shit. We’re never gonna win this war if-“
“I care about him.” Dean admits.
“And?”
“And what?”
“You tell me.”
“You gonna make me spell it out for you?”
“Is he you’re…boyfriend?”
Dean snorts. “Fuck if I know. He’s barely even human. Leave it to me to always fall for the ones I can’t really have.”
Sam smiles, closing his eyes, letting his exhaustion take him over. “Oh, you have him.”
~~
When Jo and Ellen died, Castiel sat on the hood of the Impala with Dean from sunset to sunrise in total silence. He held his hand and ever so often looked over at him, just to make sure he was still breathing.
He was but barely.
The stars were beautiful; each one shining down on them like angels. Castiel basked in this. It comforted him.
When the sun finally kissed their chilled skin from the night before, Dean moaned as he sat up and stretched. Castiel stays lying down; looking up at the man he had promised his life to.
“Thanks.”
“For?”
“Staying with me. It’s hard to be alone right now.”
“I’m sure Sam needs someone right now too.”
Dean winces and rubs his palms over his worn jeans. “We’re the 'suffer in silence' type.”
“The day is grower nearer where your brother will be the only one you can count on. Don’t underestimate Lucifer. He will use whatever distance you and Sam put between each other against you.”
Dean sighs. “I know.”
“Family is the most important thing, trust me.”
Dean looks over his shoulder at him. “Do you miss heaven?”
“Sometimes.”
“Sorry.” Dean mumbles.
“I made a choice. I chose you. And I’d do it again.”
Dean smiles and leans down capturing his lips with Castiel’s. Castiel wraps his hand around the back of Dean’s neck and deepens the kiss. Their tongues dance to a song only they know and Dean gets comfortable again on the hood.
He’d do it again.
~~
“Are you idgit’s trying to kill me?” Bobby screams.
Sam sighs heavily and rubs his hand over his face. “It’s the best plan we’ve come up with.”
“We? Oh no, no, no. There is NO WE in this scenario. I do not approve of this plan, whatsoever so DO NOT bring me down with this WE crap!”
Castiel touches Dean’s arm, trying to calm him. He yanks away and Castiel tries to hide his disappointment.
“How else do you plan to beat Lucifer then? Huh? Tell me! Cause I haven’t heard one solid plan coming from any of you since we lost Jo and Ellen. There isn’t time for more planning and waiting around. We need to strike and we need to strike NOW. Or we just give up, cause I’m done sitting around.”
Everyone stares at the younger Winchester, eyes wide and hearts hammering, and in that moment Dean realizes something he had been trying to suppress; something he didn’t want to admit for the past 5 years.
Sam is an adult. And he’s been an adult for a long time.
And its time they start treating him that way.
“Sam’s right, Dean.” Bobby says. “He’s proven what a good hunter he is time and time again. You’ve always called the shots. Maybe its time we let Sam.”
Dean frowns a little, still not wanting to accept the facts. He looks over at Castiel, who is also nodding in total agreement with Bobby. Castiel tries one more time to reach out for Dean, this time Dean accepting; taking his hand in his.
Dean winces, but looks deep into Sam’s eyes. “Fine. It’s time I let you grow up. I don’t like it, it’s against everything I stand for, but the floor is yours.”
Sam smiles at his older brother, and nods. “Here is what we do…”
~~
Dean keeps the speedometer at 55 as he travels down the deserted highway back to Bobby’s from the last hunt they may be doing for a long time. He peaks into the backseat at Castiel; sound asleep.
“Aw, ain’t he a little angel?”
Sam looks back behind him at the sleeping man.
“Angel’s don’t sleep.”
Dean remains quiet, knowing fully well that Sam is indeed correct. Castiel is as much human as he and Sam are. A part of him wants to smile at this. And the other part makes his chest ache with regret and guilt.
“There's something I got to talk to you about.”
“What?”
Sam takes a deep breath. “This thing goes our way and I...Triple lindy into that box... Y-you know I'm not coming back.”
Dean feels his throat begin to close. “Yeah, I’m aware.”
“So you gotta promise me something.”
“Okay. Yeah. Anything.” Dean glances at his brother.
“You got to promise not to try to bring me back.”
Dean glares. “What? No, I didn't sign up for that.”
“Dean…” Sam begins.
“Your hell is gonna make my tour look like Graceland. Y-you want me just to sit by and do nothing?”
“Once the cage is shut, you can't go poking at it, Dean. It's too risky.” Sam demands.
Dean’s voice begins to shake. “No, no, no, no, no. As if I'm just gonna let you rot in there.”
“Yeah, you are. You don't have a choice.”
Dean shakes his head. “You can’t ask me to do this.”
“I’m sorry, Dean. You have to.”
Dean feels his world begin to shatter around him. “Than what am I supposed to do?”
“You and Cas live some normal apple-pie life. You keep hunting. Remember what Dad taught you. And I’d like to believe I taught you some stuff too.”
Dean grips the steering wheel tighter and blinks back the stinging tears.
“Dean. Promise me.”
Even though the Impala rumbles down the highway at 55, Dean closes his eyes and tries to imagine his life, again, without Sam.
“I promise.”
~~
Castiel tries to tell Dean he should be with his brother tonight, but Dean insists he wants some time with him first. Castiel nods, getting into the Impala without anymore questions. Dean drives, for what seems like forever, down back roads; the headlights pointed out towards nowhere. Dean grips Castiel’s hand tightly the whole ride, the heat blasting from the vents; causing moisture on their skin.
“Where are we going?” Castiel asks gently afraid to disturb the beast that he knows is restless inside Dean tonight.
“Someplace my Dad used to take me when I was little. We used to come and visit Bobby once in a while. One of the only times my Dad did anything ‘father/son’ like with me was when he took me to lake to go fishing. Whenever we visit Bobby and I need some place to wind down I come here.” Dean glances at him. “And now I wanna show you.”
Castiel smiles and squeezes Dean’s hand.
The Impala’s tires crunch over the rocks and dirt on the path that lead to the lake as the night takes over the sky. Castiel can already see the twinkle of the stars and moon off the water and again he feels at peace knowing that no matter what, heaven is always watching over them.
Dean puts the Impala in park and turns off the engine. He sits silently for a few moments.
“This is our last night on earth.”
“You don’t know that.” Dean barks back and pulls his hand away.
Dean is the king of hurt emotions.
“Where is Sam?”
“Don’t start.”
“If this is indeed your last night on earth, shouldn’t you be spending it with him?”
“And what about us, huh? What about our last night together?”
“He is your brother. I am…”
“You’re everything. You’re more than everything. I’m not sure how I could have…” Dean trails off, shaking his head and looking away.
“I didn’t do anything. I was your friend.”
“Friend? Friend? That’s what you think we are?”
Castiel sighs. “I am not sure how you label things down here. I have given everything I have for you. If I had a soul I would have given you that as well.”
“You don’t have a soul?”
Castiel shrugs. “Well if you count my grace…”
“You still have it?”
“Some of it. Most of it has fizzled since my rebellion.” Castiel looks over at Dean. “But what I have left I’d give to you if I knew it would make any of this a little less painful.”
Dean’s features soften. “Cas…”
“So label it however you want, Dean. That’s how I feel. I don’t think any label will suffice that.”
They spend the rest of the night in the back of the Impala; the water in front of them; the light of the thousands of stars and moon shining down over them like the thousands of guardian angels and God himself; lighting the way to bliss and love.
Dean whispers things to Castiel he has never said to anyone. Promises. Fears. Everything inside his mind he spills for Castiel to hear. Castiel takes it all, offering a little truth of his own.
That he had never known true love till he met Dean. That he always thought love was something that just was. Something God created. And maybe that is still true. But he’s learned from Dean that love is hard work. That love is earned and it takes time to flourish. That real love, the kind that defines the soul and reaches in and takes everything that’s inside you leaving you empty and yearning for more, is the only love that really matters.
The kind of love he sees between the two brothers. Unconditional love that causes sacrifice and consequences. The kind of love worth fighting for.
The kind of love he sees between Bobby and the two brothers. Fatherly love coming from someone who did not have any part of conceiving these boys. But he’s kept them together. He’s helped mold them into the men they are today. The kind of love you’d die defending.
And the kind of love that he and Dean now have. Love that started off as understanding and respect. Love that started off as orders from heaven. But this love became a profound bond. Something neither of them expected, but it became something they could not deny. Castiel had become Dean’s best friend. His lover. His…
Everything.
Dean makes love to Castiel all night. He touches him in ways, emotionally and physically, Castiel wasn’t even sure he could experience.
If there was any part of him that was holding onto heaven, tonight was the night Castiel finally let go.
Falling asleep in Dean’s arms as the sun rose over the lake, Castiel knew he was now truly human.
~~
Endings are hard.
Everyone wants a happy ending but the bottom line sometimes there isn’t one.
But maybe happy endings are open for interpretation. Maybe happily ever after is a myth. Saved for Disney movies you show your kids before bed time so they have sweet dreams.
That isn’t reality. And Sam and Dean know this.
Dean, Bobby, Castiel…hell even Sam himself knew that Sam wouldn’t make it. They knew jumping into the cage was the worst idea. Bobby hugged Sam goodbye the night before the showdown; the night before Sam gave himself over to Lucifer; telling him hold on tight and don’t let go. Don’t give an inch.
But he and Sam both knew…no matter how hard Sam fought or held on…once he was inside…one he was Lucifer…there was no coming back from that.
Dean was beside him though, every step of the way. He went down fighting too. There was no epic battle between Michael and Lucifer. Without Dean saying yes, all there was Sam saying yes to Lucifer and using the helpful hint from Gabriel about the horseman’s rings, to open the gateway back down to hell. Lucifer didn’t plan on the love between the two brothers; the love they had built and never once diminished through all these years; would get him locked back down inside his cage for eternity.
Lucifer didn’t count on the trust between the brothers being the strongest thing in the world.
So when the gateway opened in Stull Cemetery and Sam giving his brother one last smile and nod of admiration before he jumped into the pit, Lucifer didn’t count on the Winchester brothers to give him a run for his money. He didn’t expect the brother’s to have a plan. Or an ally on the inside.
“You can’t trick a trickster.”
Dean hears Gabriel’s words echoing in his mind as he gives his brother one final nod.
Sam may have been Lucifer’s vessel. He may have had demon blood in him. He may have even has some darkness in him. But he had something greater than all those. More powerful.
He had the love of his brother.
So maybe this was a test, for Sam and Dean. Up against good, evil, Angels, devils, destiny, and god himself, They made their own choice. They chose family.
And well, isn’t that really the whole point?
~~
Dean stares out of the motel windows, hand wrapped around the curtain. Castiel watches him from the bed with a concerned look.
“Dean?”
‘Yeah?” Dean shakes himself out of his daze and draws the curtains closed.
“That doctor show is on. Did you wanna watch?”
Dean half smiles, walking over to Castiel and running his hand gently over his cheek. He leans down and presses his lips firmly to the new human. “Yeah, sounds great.”
Dean settles into bed, turning the TV on and wrapping his arm loosely around Castiel.
Dean misses his brother. For the first few months all he wanted to do was die. He drank too much, and broke everything in site. Castiel never left his side. He rubbed his back when Dean got sick from drinking too much. He cleaned up the motel rooms when Dean broke the lamps and mirrors. And he let Dean scream at him when he just needed to yell.
Dean has gotten better but all he thinks about is a way to bring Sam back. Between simple hunts he researches ways to get Sam out of the cage. The pain is dulled by Castiel, who still remains by his side. Dean is loved. He is watched over. He is cared for. And he promises, at least in his head, to make it up to Castiel. That one day things will be better. One day he will wake up and the pain won’t be so bad. One day he will repay Castiel for all he has done for him.
But Castiel has enough. He has Dean. And to him, that’s enough. It’s all he ever wanted.
“You okay?” Cas asks, his eyes growing heavy with exhaustion.
Dean looks down at him and kisses his forehead gently.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
No doubt endings are hard, but nothing ever really ends does it?
~~
A street lamp flickers and finally zaps out on Main Street.
Hazel eyes focus and burn on the hotel room windows 15 feet in front of him. The figure remains tall and straight, hands at his side, expression…null.