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“Cas?! Cas!” Dean is running, and he’s not sure where he is or where he’s going. It’s all black around him, the darkness – no not The Darkness – but the black around him is darker than anything he’d ever seen before.
But it doesn’t matter because he knows he heard it. It was faint… and broken. But he’d heard it. That rough, stilted voice saying his name.
“Dean…”
“Castiel!” Dean yells again.
He never thought he’d be here.
-x-
After Cas had – well, after all of that, and Dean was sitting on the ground in the bunker, his head cradled in his hand, his eyes hot with tears... He thought he’d never move again. Damn the end of the world. Damn humanity. Damn Chuck. Damn all of it.
It took him twelve hours to find the will to stand.
And then he was Dean Winchester again – not the heartbroken man who’d lost his best friend in service of his own life – Dean Winchester the hero. The man Cas had said he was. And he’d found a way, and he’d saved them all again.
The second… the second they were home free? Dean became obsessed. They had to find him. There was no way Cas was gone. Not after he–
“Dean… do you think you might want to put the books down for a little while?” Sam asked, holding a bottle of beer out. Dean grabbed it from him, slammed the rim of the bottle down on the table’s edge and watched the cap fly off before taking a long pull. The bitterness ran cold down his throat and he hummed appreciatively.
“Nah, Sammy. I’m on a roll. I’m gonna figure it out.”
Sam frowned slightly but gave him a short nod and then sat down at the table across from him.
“Okay. Tell me how I can help.”
They’d poured over texts, called in favors from everyone they could –
“Jack?” Sam asked, once. Dean just shook his head. He’d tried, back when the hurt was raw. But Jack had smiled beatifically and shrugged.
“I don’t think he can get involved without fucking up his whole deal… uh up there or whatever.” Dean pointed up at the ceiling, to the sky, to the heavens above. He’d been furious over it, but Dean Winchester was not one to wallow in one choice that didn’t work out. He’d just find another way.
And they had. They’d found a way that a human could get to the Empty. It involved a visit to hell and Sam having a closeted conversation with Rowena, who pulled a spell out of the reaches of her memory. Eileen came through with the ingredients – she went deep into her history, trekking through family trees all through Ireland to get what Dean needed.
Not once did anyone ask why he was working so hard for this. Why would they? He was Dean Winchester. This is what he did.
He never told a single soul what had happened between him and Cas before Cas gave up.
Which is how Dean couldn’t help but think of it.
Cas had given up. He’d just smiled and cried and let that black shit cover him from head to know and Dean just had to watch while that thing took Cas away.
Sometimes Dean had to bite his own tongue to stem the anger.
And he never told anyone. Not even Sam.
Part of it was that he didn’t know what to say – he thought about it, alone at night in his room. He’d lay on top of the covers, hands folded behind his head and feet crossed at the ankle. Dean would stare up at the concrete without really seeing it and think about Cas said to him.
That Cas loved him.
Not humanity. Not his family. Dean. Cas loved Dean.
But that love was irrevocably tied to goodbye and despair and Dean found himself hating it.
“How could you fucking do this to me, you dick?” Dean said, pretending Cas could hear him. “What was it about loving me that got you killed?” He asked, desperate for answer.
But no one ever responded.
Until now.
-x-
“Cas!!!” Dean yells for the third time, and he hears it again.
“Dean?” Cas’ voice is closer now, and Dean nearly stumbles directly into him. There was nothing, and then there was Cas, illuminated by something Dean can’t fathom. “Dean?!” Cas is gripping his shoulders and staring at him. “What are you doing here? You have to go – you can’t be here. Dean!”
But Dean’s not listening because he found him. All the anger and frustration melts away. He pulls Cas in and is hugging him, and Dean knows he’s crying again but he can’t care. Cas is in his arms, and he’s in his suit and trench coat, and Dean can feel the rough scratch of his cheek against his own. Dean lets his head fall forward and rest just next to Cas’ neck. His ear is pressed there, and there’s a moment where he’s discomfited. There’s no pulse. But he shakes it off. It doesn’t matter.
“Cas, I have been looking for so long, shut the fuck up and just let me do this.” he says into Cas’ shoulder.
Cas’ arms tighten around him.
“Okay.” Dean feels the voice reverberate against him. “Okay, Dean.”
When he finally pulls away and takes a step backward, Cas’ eyes are as sad as he’s ever seen them.
“How did you find me?” he asks. Dean shrugs.
“I worked really frickin’ hard is how, you asshole. Where do you get off—” He stops, suddenly. Unsure if he wants to have this conversation now and here of all places. Or if he wants to have the conversation at all.
“You can’t be here.” Cas says again and Dean bristles.
“Don’t give me that crap. I can be wherever the hell I want to be, including this weird angel mega-hell or whatever it is. The Empty’s not gonna do shit. We have it handled.”
Cas’ brow furrows and the corner of lips turn down.
“What does that mean?”
Dean rolls his eyes.
“What does it matter, we gotta go. I’ll yell at you when we get topside.” He reaches out and grips Cas’ hand. “Come on.”
Cas doesn’t reply and lets Dean pull him along. He seems overwhelmed but Dean doesn’t want Cas to have time to think of a reason he needs to stay so Dean just keeps moving.
Until finally, abruptly, incredibly, they are out. They are out and in the bunker and Sam is laughing and hugging Cas, the copper bowl behind him on the table is smoking and burned out.
“You made it, you’re here!” Sam is saying over and over again, and Dean is smiling so big his cheeks hurt.
Later, Dean and Cas are in his room. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed and Cas is standing just to his right and facing him.
“Has it been a very long time?” Cas asks, looking at Dean closely. And Dean has to fight not to turn away. This is what he’s been waiting for.
“Long enough.” He answers.
“Your hair’s long.” Cas says, and Dean’s thrown by the non sequitur.
“I… guess?” He says, running a hand through it. It has been falling into his eyes lately, in a way it hadn’t since he was a kid, but he’d been so busy he just ignored it.
“And you have a beard.” Cas’ eyes are narrowed, and his head is tilted just to the left.
“And?” Dean says, pointedly. “And you said you loved me and then you fucking died. There. We’re both pointing out things and being weird about it.”
“I…” Cas takes a step backwards, like he’s going to leave, and Dean stands up and puts a hand out to stop him.
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that. I wanted to…” Dean rubs at his face. “I meant to give you time. To, I don’t know, reacclimate.”
Cas shakes his head.
“You’re right to bring it up, Dean I…” He hesitates. “I meant it. I do… I do love you. But I said it knowing I’d never hear a response, and that it didn’t matter. I was happy knowing you knew and knowing that it was true.”
It’s the most he’s said since he got back. Dean moves so that he’s in Cas’ space, and he can’t help but think that the last time they were like this, standing this near each other, Cas was readying himself to die so Dean could live.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Cas says. “But I understand. It’s okay that you don’t feel the same way.”
Dean can’t help the incredulous look that slides onto his face.
“You have no idea what I’m thinking.” He says. “Cas, I went into the goddamn Empty for you. You think … you think I don’t… ?”
Cas doesn’t seem to understand him.
“I know you care about me a great deal, Dean. And I’m thankful for it. I’m thankful to be—”
And Dean can’t take it anymore, this absurdity. This ridiculous assumption. So, he pushes forward and puts his mouth on Cas’ and kisses him. Cas’ lips are softer than he’d imagined, and somehow, they fit perfectly against his own. But they’re frozen for just the slightest second and Dean’s worried he made a mistake. And then miraculously, Cas is kissing him back and his hands are pressed against Dean’s jaw, and his thumbs are tracking Dean’s cheekbones and it’s everything he could have hoped for. It’s everything he did hope for.
They stay like that for a while, until Dean sees it’s time for dinner wants to get to the kitchen before Sammy comes looking for them. But on their way out the door he can’t help but pause and turn back to shoot Cas a shit-eating grin.
“Who gripped who out of perdition now, bitch?”
From behind him, Cas deadpans, “That was not perdition.”