[SPN] faith is a series of complications (15/16; epilogue)

Mar 22, 2012 10:28

Ø: epilogue-all this leads to one outcome.

It was like waking up from a long dream.

Dean opened his eyes, blinking as the world slowly came into focus around him-or rather, the view of the half-peeled ceiling that he was staring at. He only had a moment to himself before there was a shift in the space beside him, and Dean blinked when a warm hand snaked over his chest, pressing over the area where his heart was.

“Dean?” came the half-murmured inquiry from a low, gravelly voice he now so frequently heard in his life.

He turned his head around to smile sleepily at Cas, leaning in to bury his nose in the other’s hair and breathe in that scent of ozone and sea-spray he now loved so much. “Nothing, Cas. Just thinking.”

Castiel responded with a soft hum as he shifted closer, ducking his head down so that he could nuzzle at the junction between Dean’s neck and shoulder as he murmured out, “About what?”

“Stuff,” was all that Dean said, free hand now coming up so that he could tangle his finger in Cas’ mussed hair and mess it up even further as he gently tugged the other’s head up enough to place a kiss on his forehead. “Time really flies, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Castiel replied evenly, now much more awake as blue eyes gazed up to look at Dean, blinking before he added. “It’s been a year since that day.”

Dean let out a quiet sigh, the hand in Cas’ hair now stroking his cheek as the hunter closed his eyes. “A year, huh.”



The silence that came after Purgatory closed was almost absolute, and Dean could only watch as his brother moved to and knelt at the space before where the hole in the wall once was. It was gone now, just like back in Stull Cemetery with Lucifer’s Cage. Dean wasn’t sure if he wanted to see the irony of that.

Cas was pretty affected by it as well, staring forlornly at the wall and speaking in a voice so soft that only Dean could hear him say the words. ‘Brother… why?’ Dean opened his mouth to answer, but then before he could say anything a most unexpected voice cut across into his response.

“You know why he had to, Cas. It was his choice.”

All three of them turned around when they heard the voice, and spent the next few moments staring in shock at the white-dressed man who had just appeared and was now standing before them. Sam was the one who broke the silence, getting up on his feet as he started cautiously. “…Chuck?”

Chuck Shurley gave a small, nervous smile and held up his hand. “Hey, guys.”

Castiel was the one who spoke up next after that, his voice barely a whisper. “…Father?”

The prophet smiled, and when he replied this time there was no doubt as to his identity at all. “Castiel, my youngest child. The angel of Thursday. You have suffered much.”

“You’re God,” Dean finally managed to find his voice, still staring at Chuck, even as he was struggling to snap his jaw back shut. “You’re fucking God. Fuck.” Chuck was God? What the hell was going on here?

“It’s kind of a long story,” Chuck replied, all the Chuck-ness still in that response as much as the God part of him was, when he looked past them and towards somebody else entirely. “Trickster.”

The three of them turned around when they heard him call, following the man's gaze and looked at the girl who now stood before them all, dressed in black once again. “God,” Loki’s voice held a quiet sort of mirth as the girl smiled softly, looking at the man with barely-disguised fondness. “Nice digs.”

Chuck laughed. “Thanks,” he returned, smiling himself now. “You really helped this time.”

The Trickster only shrugged. “Consider it repayment for my previous meddling.” Even with the words there was no way to hide the quiet pain that was audible in the voice, and Dean could sense the hurt that she felt. Even though she had never seemed to voice it out properly, Dean knew that Gabriel was somebody the Trickster had come to care for and to lose him was something that did strike close to the Trickster’s heart. He also knew that she would weep for him later and mourn for the sacrifice that he had made, but not now when everybody else was still here.

Chuck-or well, God-most likely knew that as well, which explained the apologetic look that crossed his face before he turned back to Dean and the rest. “First-I have to apologize for all of this. I thought things would be better once the Apocalypse was over-”

“You think?” Dean started, ignoring the glare that Sam gave him for those words.

“Yeah, I know,” Chuck returned, looking apologetic once again. “And I’m really sorry. But, well-free will. That’s how the show here is being run now. Your choices, your consequences.”

Castiel spoke up. “Gabriel-”

Chuck turned around to look at the angel, smiling sadly as he spoke. “He’s made his choice, Castiel.”

“And you’re willing to let him remain there for eternity?” Castiel shot back, his voice going higher and louder. Dean couldn’t help but pause a little at that, surprised at the force of the angel’s words. To have Cas speak up like that-yeah, Gabriel definitely meant a lot to him; Dean already knew, but it never really struck him until now just how much Gabriel’s sacrifice was affecting the other. In a way, the archangel had been Castiel’s only real brother-and Dean could very well-relate to the feeling of losing your own brother to something you couldn’t control.

Chuck didn’t flinch, but the apologetic look crossed his features once more and the man ducked his head. His eyes trailed over to stare at the spot on the wall, where Gabriel had thrown himself across earlier, and for a moment Dean could see another expression entirely on his face. “He made his choice,” he repeated himself, regret much more audible in his voice now. “And that’s just how things are going to go.” Maybe Dean was just imagining things here, but he could almost swear the man was clenching his fists as he said that.

It was hard to just stand there and listen to everything much longer. Dean stepped forward, placing one hand on Cas’ shoulder as he looked straight at Chuck. “Is this how it’s going to be then, Chuck? Free will?”

“The plan’s always been about free will, Dean,” the other man returned with a wry smile, “From the moment you and Sam stopped the Apocalypse, free will’s been the name of the game. This,” he gestured mildly towards everything in general, “-this is just another chapter after the end. An important one, but still a chapter all the same.”

Sam spoke up now, cautiously stepping closer himself as he looked warily at Chuck. “So what happens now?”

“The world continues,” and this time it wasn't Loki or Chuck who spoke, but Jack Crow, the psychopomp taking two steps forward as he removed the fedora he was wearing, revealing dark, unruly locks of hair that fell across his face and framed his features. “Everything will go on as it always has, oblivious to the fact that their lives might have already perished twice. The days will keep on passing us by and life will go on as it’s always has.” The boy Trickster raised his head up, eyes twinkling, and a quiet, mirthful smile crossed his face. “More of the same, just as it’s always been.”

“More of the same,” Sam repeated quietly, turning his gaze over to Dean, who returned his brother’s look and then went to glance at Castiel. The angel was silent now, unable to say anything-but Dean could see how his jaw was tightly clenched and how his body was trembling under his hand. The man let out a loud hiss of breath through his nose and squeezed the hand he had on Castiel’s shoulder; there would be time to mourn, and there would be time to pick up the pieces and move on from this. It would be a while, perhaps, before anything was truly alright again… but hey, time was what they had now. Time was all they needed for this.



“Thank you, Dean.”

Dean opened his eyes at the sudden words of gratitude, blinking in confusion. “What for?” he asked, not at all sure where this was coming from.

Castiel hummed quietly and leaned into the hand at his cheek, his own eyes closed now as he replied. “For being there for me after everything. For helping me deal with Gabriel’s loss, and for forgiving me for my trespasses.”

“S’nothing,” the hunter swiftly replied, starting to feel the warm fuzzy feeling that came with the oncoming chick-flick moments he had with Cas these days. “You lost your brother. I could understand that feeling. And besides, it wasn’t as if everything was your fault.” As far as Dean himself was concerned, he made his fair share of mistakes too back then. For not empathising with Cas and helping him when he needed it most, for having pushed him around too often… he couldn’t really consider himself innocent in the whole mess either. “What’s more important is that they’re fixed now.”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed, scooting close enough so that they could press against each other, melding skin onto skin in a way that made Dean groan softly and shift his hand to cup the back of Cas’ head. “Fixed and even improved upon.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Dean returned before he groaned again when he felt Cas’ hands already sneaking around his waist. He attempted to reach down and push them away, speaking up again. “Sammy’s going to be here in thirty, you know. We’re supposed to be heading for Michigan to take down a Wendigo.”

Cas’ only response to that was to push on with what he was doing, lowering his head to start placing little kisses across Dean’s collarbones. “There’s a lot of things we can do within that time,” he murmured against the side of Dean’s throat when he got there, hot and wet as he sucked on the patch of sensitive skin at the junction hard enough to leave a bruise.

“Cas,” Dean groaned even as his fingers were already winding themselves into the other’s hair.

The angel only smiled as he shifted himself to the space between the hunter’s legs. “Consider this a ‘thank you’ present.”

Exactly thirty minutes later, Sam Winchester would enter and then exit the room straight away, while (once again) demanding for something to erase the image seared into his eyes. Dean would only laugh, and Castiel would smile in that special way of his that Dean had long since come to love and cherish.

There were still Wendigos and ghosts and all sorts of beasts to hunt down and life wasn’t exactly perfect-but it was still as good as Dean knew he was going to get.



← thirteenth act | encore →

!supernatural, ~fic, *knightblazer

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