Big Bang: Where We're Heading To: Epilogue on Earth
Epilogue on Earth
After Dean had gotten them both out of the warehouse, they were met with a problem.
"Dude, where's my car?" (Cas totally didn't even notice that he was making a reference. He definitely had to educate him later.) The Impala was nowhere within sight. It seemed that when Sam had kidnapped Dean, he hadn't bothered taking his wheels with them. Which was the worst thing about all of this, Dean thought.
Castiel had a solution to the problem, though. If Sam hadn't moved the Impala to bring with him, then surely he hadn't moved it from where Dean had left it. So, Dean just needed to remember where he'd been last.
After a little thinking, Dean named off the little town, and Castiel flew them there before Dean could protest. When he saw his beloved car, he decided that he didn't need to bitch about it this time.
For a little while, the car ride was quiet.
Castiel didn't have anything in particular to say, and Dean wasn't ready to say what he needed to talk about yet. So there was no conversation in the Impala.
The silence lasted through four towns, and it was Dean who finally broke it, albeit unwillingly.
"Listen, man. We have to talk about this," he said, steering his car to the side of the road and stopping.
Castiel frowned. "Talk about what?"
Dean sighed. Either Castiel was thick, or very forgetful. He could never be sure, with him. "I want to know why you lied to me."
"About Sam," Castiel said, not even a hint of a question in his mind.
Well, at least he wasn't forgetful.
"Yeah, about Sam. You knew about him, and you didn't tell me. How come?"
"I believed that I was protecting you," Castiel answered. Strangely, Dean found that he wasn't able to meet his eyes.
"Right. Good job you did at that." Maybe sarcasm wasn't exactly helpful in a conversation like this, but he couldn't help it, alright? But, really. It was Cas's attempt at protection that had nearly gotten them killed.
"I intended to save you emotional pain, not physical peril."
Well, that was a great way of saying that he cared. Yup, Cas fit right in with the Winchesters. But still, "You thought I would be emotionally injured if I knew about Sam?"
"Sam is a demon," Castiel said, frowning. "I should think that the knowledge would cause some kind of trauma."
"Sure, but I still would have liked to know that he was topside."
Castiel frowned. "I was also sure that your knowledge of Sam would distract you from matters at hand, possibly lethally."
"Yeah, sure," Dean dismissed. "Still, it was sort of a nice sentiment, I guess. If you ignore the part where we were almost sacrificed to bring Yellow Eyes back."
"So," Castiel offered carefully, "are we, 'good' now?"
Dean had to laugh. Cas looked positively nervous, and it was hilarious. "Yeah, we're good." He did sober up enough to add,
"As long you don't keep any other important information from me."
Castiel nodded solemnly. "Of course."
Dean pulled back into traffic, and the rest of the drive was spent in companionable conversation.
They discussed topics as diverse as the most efficient way to deal with a zombie infestation (flamethrowers would make everything easier, Dean said), to the best kind of crab (Castiel claimed that Jimmy had always liked Dungeness more than anything from the east coast), to the most believable science fiction stories (Castiel had no input, so Dean just informed him).
At one point, though, Castiel noticed the route that Dean was taking. "You are not returning to Indiana," he observed.
"Uh, no," Dean admitted, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "I already said my goodbyes to Lisa and the kid. Besides, I don't really fit into that life very well."
"You managed for two years," Castiel said, his brow furrowed the slightest bit.
"There's a difference between managing and enjoying." Dean smiled. "And I had you to distract me when things got really boring."
"I am glad that I was your distraction," Castiel said, and Dean could swear that he was sincere. "You were mine, from the politics of Heaven."
Dean was not overly proud of the goofy grin that he made after that, so it was never to be mentioned again.
"If we are not going to Cicero, where are we headed?"
"South Dakota," Dean said, and he added, for no reason besides that it felt nice to say, "Bobby's."
They were there soon enough.
It was early in the morning, around five, and the sun was not going to rise anytime soon. That was what it was like during the winter. As such, Dean was not surprised that no one came to greet them as they arrived. He was actually pretty sure that he was going to be yelled at the instant he reached the door. Bobby never did appreciate being awakened when he could still be sleeping.
Still, Dean was in too good of a mood to let something like that discourage him. He cheerfully bounded up to the door, Castiel close on his heels, and pounded on the wood.
Within moments, he could hear someone shuffling around behind the door. Which was strange, since it meant that Bobby was already awake. And this was a weird time to not be sleeping.
The thought of Bobby awake right now was not half as strange as what Dean saw when the door opened. That being, the demon Crowley.
"Hush," Crowley ordered, seeing the words forming on Dean's lips. "He's asleep, and I would certainly like him to stay that way for a while." It almost sounded like he was talking about a child, which was just a little bit creepy.
Dean opened his mouth again anyway. "What are you doing here?" he hissed.
Unfazed, Crowley smiled. "I'm just paying Bobby a little visit. What about you?"
Narrowing his eyes, Dean answered with a simple, "We just finished with a hunt."
The demon's smile stretched wider, and he addressed his next comment to Castiel, rather than Dean. "Oh, you mean Samael? How did that go?"
"Well enough, thank you," the angel muttered in reply, trying to avoid the look Dean was giving him.
"Why does he know about that?" Dean demanded.
Castiel shuffled awkwardly under Dean's gaze. "He was the one who directed me to the warehouse where Sam was keeping you."
"Into the trap, you mean."
Cas was quick to shake his head. "No, the oversight was mine alone. I should have been more prepared to deal with the defensive measures that Sam had set."
Bobby chose now to make an appearance. "What is all the ruckus about, Crowley --" He stopped when he saw Dean and
Castiel. He sighed and said, "Come on in, boys."
They complied and stepped through the threshold, but Dean couldn't help but glare at Crowley as he passed. Sure, the demon was useful, but that didn't mean that he was trustworthy.
They stopped in the kitchen, where Bobby helped himself to a cup of coffee. "What are you two doing here at such a god awful time of day?"
"Sam is in Hell," Dean said.
Bobby gave him a strange look. "I could have sworn we already knew that." He turned to Castiel, a probing look on his face. "Did he get whammied or something?"
"Sam was back on Earth for some time," Castiel explained tired, ignoring Bobby's actual question. "He is currently back in Hell again."
"You two don't sound too miffed about this."
"He was a demon," Dean offered.
Bobby was too tired to work out what exactly that meant. So he tried to change the topic. "Well, what are you going to about that Samael fellow?"
Sadly, it didn't work. "That's what I was saying," Dean said.
Of course. "Is this what you lot were yelling about at my front door?"
"We weren't yelling, dear," Crowley said, "Your ears are just more sensitive than most people's."
Dean's eyebrows rocketed at the demon's use of the word "dear". This was worse than he had thought. "We were fighting about how you are playing house with a demon, Bobby!"
"Oh, hush up, Dean. It's nothing like that," Bobby asserted.
"What's he doing here, then? He gave your soul back, right?" Dean asked.
Crowley rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't worry about that. I don't have his soul anymore." He glanced over at Bobby and added, "His heart on the other hand…"
Bobby glared back and growled, "Dammit, Crowley. Does discretion mean nothing to you?"
Dean made a face. "Dude. Eww."
"Oh, grow up," Bobby said, rolling his eyes.
Dean considered putting up more of a fight, but decided against it. "Fine. Whatever makes you happy."
Well this was a new and interesting twist, from Bobby's perspective. "Really. You're okay with this?"
Dean sighed. "There's no way I'm going to trust him, not after Ruby. But if you're good with him, I'm okay."
The demon in question decided that now would be a good time to ruin the mood. "Well, isn't that nice. Now we can all get along."
Dean didn't bother commenting.
A while later, after Dean and Cas had stayed over at Bobby's for a week or so, Dean's phone rang. (Cas had gone back and grabbed it from the warehouse when Dean had realized it was missing.) Dean answered it dutifully, though he had no idea who it could be. The only people who called him were in the room with him.
"Hello?" he asked, apprehensive, and hoping desperately that it wasn't some new Big Bad.
"Dean?" The voice was familiar, of course. It made Dean simultaneously relieved and worried. Relieved it wasn't a demon or something threatening him, but worried about why she was calling.
"What do you need, Lisa?"
"I was just calling to see if you were okay," she said.
Huh. She was worried about him. "I'm fine," he assured her. "Everything's great."
There was a moment's silence on the other end. "Are you ever going to come back, or what? 'Cause Ben asks about you all the time, and I don't know what to tell him."
Oh, Ben. As bad as it sounded, Dean had almost forgotten all about him. This was kind of awkward now. "Um, I was actually thinking I would get back into hunting full time."
"Which means, what, exactly?" Lisa was rarely willing to buy into bullshit. Dean liked that about her.
"I don't think I'm going to come back. I'll send postcards, though." He knew that this wasn't enough. But he just felt like he couldn't go back to living with Lisa now. He just couldn't. So he had to settle for this as a consolation.
"Oh," and there she went, trying to understand. "Will you be happy, doing that?"
Dean considered the question. He looked around the room, at each of the men who were pointedly ignoring his private conversation. Even though two of them could probably hear every word that Lisa said, just as well as he could. He wasn't lying when he answered, saying, "Yeah, I think I'll be good." And maybe he didn't have Sam anymore, but he still had a family, albeit a very strange one, and he was going to be okay.
They made an interesting team, when it came to hunting. Between Crowley and Castiel (not to mention all the books that Bobby still had), there wasn't much that they didn't know. Add all of Dean and Bobby's hunting experience, and they were set to face off against pretty much anything.
Honestly, the four of them together was a bit much. They found this out the hard way when they tried to chase after that family of ghouls in Illinois. It wasn't so much a chase as it was a step into the state and having those little ghouls in their clutches. It was a little pathetic, and definitely boring.
Much of the time after that, they worked in pairs, Dean and Castiel, and Bobby and Crowley. It was the only way to keep things interesting, they found. Sometimes they switched it up, and Dean worked with Bobby, and Castiel with Crowley. Dean thought it was hilarious when the angel and the demon hunted together, because, well, the joke practically wrote itself. (They weren't a bad team, though.)
But at the end of the day - or hunt, rather - they settled back down at Bobby's, and it was probably the closest to home any of them had ever gotten.
It was a nice day, so Castiel sat out on Bobby's porch. He could hear Dean yelling about something inside, and Crowley shouting something back, but Bobby's laughter was also quite audible, so the argument must not have been too serious. It was probably just the demon insulting the hunter's sartorial tastes -- or lack thereof, as the case may be.
Castiel just sat, watching the clouds pass by, and he felt Rumsfeld settle on his feet. That stupid dog had no understanding of personal space, Cas thought fondly, reaching down to scratch his ear. If he had been a cat, he would have purred, but since he was a dog, he beat against the deck with his paw. Castiel found this kind of subconscious reaction amusing.
He felt reality shift behind him as a new body filled the empty air. "Castiel," Raphael said, and Cas sighed. It had been such a nice day, too.
"Yes, brother?" Cas asked as he turned to look at the archangel.
"Why are you still here?" Raphael asked, glancing around the salvage yard in distaste.
Castiel followed his gaze, saw the sunlight reflect off old, rusty metal, heard birdsong far away, but still close enough. "Is it so hard to believe that I enjoy it here?"
Apparently, yes, it was hard to believe, because Raphael coughed awkwardly and shuffled his feet. "But why, when you could enjoy yourself better in Heaven?"
"Who is to say that I can?" Castiel asked, not sure if Raphael had the answer he was looking for.
"You are able to return at any time," he pointed out.
"That is not what I meant," Castiel said, "but thank you anyway." It was indeed comforting to know, in case things didn't end up as well as they were all hoping.
Raphael frowned and stared at Castiel for quite a long time. When he finally spoke, he did so carefully, as if he were afraid he would be embarrassed. "Then I am afraid I misunderstand you."
Clearly. Castiel didn't say that out loud, of course, but he made sure it showed in his voice as he said, "I cannot think of a single way that it is better in Heaven than on Earth."
"There is no suffering in Heaven," Raphael replied, confident in his ability to provide the correct answer. However, the confidence was misplaced, since he was dealing with Castiel.
"Someone told me that suffering was necessary in the end." Castiel recalled the Prophet, Sarah, fondly, even despite the distress her interference had caused. She hadn't been wrong about it then, and she wasn't wrong now.
"I do not understand." He wouldn't, either, since the only real suffering he'd done this past millennium was a short time in a ring of Holy Oil. And even that wasn't so bad, as Castiel had discovered.
"She said that we must earn our happy endings," he explained, and he almost mentioned that it was a Prophet of the Lord who had spoken as such. He didn't though, and continued, "and I cannot say that I disagree with her." Because he really didn't, he found.
"That sounds needlessly troublesome," Raphael said. Cas was getting tired of talking to him, and vaguely wondered if he used to be like this, too. He hoped not, but he couldn't say with certainty that he wasn't.
Castiel sighed. He would have to try and explain this with logic. He had been getting used to saying things, and everyone around understanding. "Our Father created Earth so that humans could earn their way to Heaven, correct?"
Raphael frowned. "In a manner of speaking, yes."
"Earth is full of suffering, is it not?" It was impossible for Raphael to disagree, which was, of course, the point. Castiel could prove nothing if Raphael did not first accept his premises.
"Yes, it is," Raphael conceded. Good. He was off to a start, at least.
"And Heaven is Paradise, the final resting place of certain human souls."
"Yes."
"Then it follows that for humans to reach the happy ending that is Heaven, they must first suffer through their lives on Earth."
"Correct. However, I don't see why that makes you enjoy Earth more than Heaven."
This does actually give Castiel pause, if only for a moment. "I enjoy it because this world is full of humans still struggling to earn the ending that they deserve." He looked down at Rumsfeld, who still sat on his feet, and added, "It is also full of many other living things that do not even have a chance at Heaven, as they are neither humans nor angels." He scratched the dog's ear once again, and his foot thumped loudly against the wood.
"You do not regret your decision, then?"
Castiel was not sure which decision in particular that Raphael was referring to. It didn't matter, because it was obviously whichever decision led him to right here, right now. He spared a glance into the house, where he swore he saw Dean about to throw something at the resident demon, though Crowley wasn't reacting much, so it probably wasn't an honest threat. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he turned back to Raphael.
"No," he said, still unaware of which choice he was talking about, "I really don't."
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