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Dean Winchester is twenty two and he feels like he’s drowning.
It’s August. Sam has just left and Dad has taken off too. Dean’s sitting in a no-tell motel parking lot with his hands on Baby’s steering wheel. He doesn’t know where to go next. He considers Vegas, makes a list in his mind of why he deserves a break from the job, but can’t bring himself to turn the key and drive. Part of him wants to give up and go to a bar to drink until he isn’t able to walk. Part of him wants to go find Sammy in California and make sure he’s doing alright. Part of him wants to just drive to the nearest bridge and throw the armory in Baby’s trunk down into the water and drive till he’s sick, but he decides to head East instead and look for cases on his own. Sammy doesn’t need him anymore now that he’s an adult. Dad never needed him in the first place. The only thing left to do is hunt. It’s the only thing he knows how to do.
He’s angry and bitter and some part of him tells him he’s being selfish for wanting anything better than what he already has.
He’s almost worked himself up to drive out of the parking lot and towards the highway when the ringing starts. It’s quiet at first, and he almost convinces himself that the silence is making his ears ring before it gets louder.
It’s getting louder and he can feel the pressure building up inside of his head, hands clasped firmly around his ears in a futile attempt to block the noise out.
The noise gets louder still and Baby’s windows shatter inwards before the sound ceases.
Dean thinks that maybe he’s going crazy.
--------------
He shows up a week later.
Dean is sitting inside of a motel room in Massachusetts. He’s alone again, not that he’s surprised. He talked with Sam on the phone two days ago, but the call was short and awkward and Dean had pretended that he was working a case just so that he could hang up. Dad hasn’t called, but Dean’s not really surprised.
He’s just about to turn in for the night when there’s a sharp knock at the door. Dean almost ignores it, but the voice in the back of his head bids him to go and open it.
He’s surprised when he does. There’s a man outside his door, all sharp angles and subtle discomfort. He’s shorter than Dean, but he carries himself like he could squish him like a bug. His hair is dark brown, practically black, and sticks out like he’s just been caught in a storm. He’s wearing a suit and a trenchcoat, both items looking far too expensive for someone standing outside a motel room door. His eyes are so blue and fierce that Dean almost looks away. His face is stony and his head moves ever so slightly, as if trying to read Dean.
Dean coughs uncomfortably before asking the man if he can help him.
“Yes.” he responds, and Dean nearly gapes at the sound of his voice. It’s deep and gravely and he thinks that it must be Hell on the vocal cord, but at the same time it isn’t cold or aggressive, “It’s an honor to properly meet you, Dean.”
Dean almost thinks he’s dreaming, almost shuts the door and lays down in bed, but is stuck where he stands, “Have we met before?”
The man doesn’t blink, but a ghost of a smile graces his lips, “Not formally. You have heard me speak though I fear you didn’t understand me.”
Dean thinks back, but can’t possibly remember hearing the man’s voice, sure that something like that would stick out to him until-
“My car… The windows.” he says slowly, “That was you talking? Buddy you cost me over two hundred bucks worth of repairs.”
Dean knows that he should be afraid, that whatever is standing ahead of him isn’t human, but he isn’t really that scared. If he wanted him dead, he’d have killed him. If he wanted information, he’d have tortured him. Dean’s still standing, so he really isn’t feeling anything but curiosity.
The man looks a bit sheepish now, but he’s still staring directly at Dean, “Yes. I apologize for that, I assumed you’d be able to hear my true voice. Very specific people can view my… true visage.”
“Visage?” Dean scoffs, “Okay so what visage are you in now, huh? World’s most stereotypical white collar worker?”
The man looks down, as if he’s never thought much about his outfit or his looks, “This body does not belong to me. It’s a vessel. A willing vessel.”
“You’re possessing someone?” Dean asks before the severity of the situation sets in. The hand not visible from behind the door moves to his back pockets, searching for his knife, “What are you?”
The man hesitates for a moment, as if he really does want to answer, “That I cannot tell you, though I assure you I am no demon. If you’d like to test me you can.”
Dean waits. He waits for some big flash of light and then he’s no more. He waits for the man to grow claws and teeth and tear at him like an animal. He waits for an end that he ultimately realizes isn’t coming and nods slowly, leaning over to grab the salt sitting on the windowsill just a few inches away.
The man reaches out a hand, palm facing upwards and Dean pours the salt gingerly into his palm. No reaction, but he’s not sure whether to trust him yet. He pulls the knife out of his pocket, and pulls it through the center of his hand. No reaction.
Dean just nods, “Alright.”
The man looks upwards towards the sky, concentration engraved into the lines of his face, “My apologies, it appears my time here has been cut short. I’ll be seeing you soon, Dean.”
He turns to walk away, but Dean reaches out and grabs his shoulder, “Hold on, man! Don’t you have a name?”
The man hesitates slightly, and Dean thinks for a moment that maybe he doesn’t have a name before he finally answers,
“Castiel.”
He keeps walking until he reaches the edge of the parking lot and behind a flickering lamp post , and just like that he’s gone.
Dean thinks that maybe he should’ve followed him.
--------------------
It’s been two weeks and Dean is sitting in some crappy diner where all of the food is filled with two tons of grease.
Dad called last night, but gave nothing more than a case description and a town name for Dean to follow up on.
He’s been taking small hunts, nothing he can’t handle alone. He texts Sam every three days, but his brother never responds with more than five or six words, and Dean contemplates just leaving him alone because it’s starting to feel like that’s what he wants.
He’s sitting alone at a table in the corner, pretending to reread the menu again even though he’s already decided what he wants when Castiel walks through the door.
He looks exactly the same, if not slightly disheveled. His face is the same and there’s no indication that something is wrong, but his eyes are heavy and distracted.
“Hello, Dean.” he says curtly, standing across from him.
Dean frowns, setting the menu down in front of him, “You wanna sit or are you just gonna stand there like a creep?”
Castiel blinks, awkwardly pulling the chair out and sitting down, “My apologies.”
“So..” Dean starts awkwardly, “You aren’t trying to kill me, and I have no idea what you are, so what is it exactly you want from me?”
Castiel’s gaze grew dark, his eyes flitting over the people in the diner, “I’m.. not at liberty to discuss that yet.”
“Dude.” Dean huffed, rolling his eyes, “Can I at least ask what you’re doing here then?”
He nods curtly, his hands folded in his lap, “Of course. I’ve been sent to accompany you until such time as you are needed, at which point I will tell you why it is we need you.”
“And if I refuse?” Dean asks.
“You won’t.” Castiel states firmly, “You don't want to.”
He’s right, of course. He doesn’t want to refuse. Castiel’s an enigma, something he’s never seen before and it’s not like he has anything left for him. Sam and Dad are both gone, as far as he cares. It’s just him.
Maybe it’s always been just him.
He shrugs, “I guess you’re right. So you’re going to ‘accompany me’... what’s that mean exactly?”
Castiel smiles just a small bit, and Dean almost calls the smug bastard out right before he answers, “Assisting you on your ‘hunts’ and ensuring your safety.”
Dean nods, “Uh huh… And are you going to be with me twenty four seven or?”
“No, not always.” Castiel states, “I will have to return… to my place of employment to make reports regularly, but I will be here a majority of the time. If you are ever in need of something when I am away, all you need to do is call.”
“Do you even own a cell phone?” Dean asks, watching as the waitress finally walks over. She’s tall and brunette and Dean really thinks that he’d have a chance, if he took it, but he can’t really bring himself to care much right now.
She takes his order with a smile and walks away, leaving Castiel and Dean to finish their conversation.
“It's… not that kind of call.” Cas states hesitantly, “Just call to me aloud. Almost like an invocation.”
Dean grimaces, “Got it. Thanks, Betelguese.”
“I don’t understand that reference.” Cas says with a frown, head tilting to the side.
“Seriously?” Dean asks with wide eyes as the waitress places his order in front of him, “You’ve never seen Beetlejuice?”
“I’ve never seen any piece of digitized media.” Cas replies rather pointedly.
“Buddy, we’ve gotta get you caught up.” Dean says it like a promise...
And maybe deep down it is.
-------------------
Having Castiel with him is interesting, to say the least.
They pull up at a motel sometime after three in the afternoon. It’s cold out, and somehow the lobby is colder than the actual midday air. The kid at the front desk doesn’t bat an eye when they walk in, continuing to chew his gum with loud smacks.
“One bed or two?”
“Uh- Two.” Dean says, but he swears it almost comes out like a question.
Beside him, Castiel stands stoic, lips pursed as if he has something to say. The kid just hands him two sets of keys, tells him the room number, and pops another piece of gum in his mouth.
Dean thanks him and walks back outside to grab his things out of Baby’s trunk, Castiel following him like some kind of imprinted animal.
“It was unnecessary to purchase two beds.” he states matter of factly.
“Oh, yeah?”
“I don’t sleep.”
“Whatever.” Dean shrugs, “You can just sit on the bed and watch cable then, I guess. You need to get caught up on pop culture somehow.”
Castiel just hums in agreement, and Dean thinks it’s kind of nice to have someone else around.
--------------------
Dean stops texting Sam. Or rather, Sam stops texting Dean because he’s the one who hasn’t responded to Dean’s last two messages. It’s only been a week since their last text, but Dean knows deep down that it will be their last. Sam’s responses had grown shorter and colder since he’d arrived at Stanford, and Dean knew when he wasn’t wanted. It stung, but Dean reminds himself that he’s doing this for Sam, because he deserves a long, happy life separated from hunting and monsters and if that means separate from Dean too, he can live with that.
At least he’s not alone, though.
Dad sends him another case, and when he suggests it to Castiel he’s perfectly content with tagging along wherever Dean wants to go.
So they head west toward some small town in Wyoming.
They’re in the car when Castiel first suggests it,
“You should distance yourself… from your family.”
Dean just snorts, “We’re barely even speaking, Cas. We’re pretty damn distant already.”
Cas just nods absentmindedly, staring out at the road, “Dean.. What I will ask of you, when the time comes, it’s dangerous. Especially for those associated with you.”
A pit in Dean’s stomach starts to grow, “You want me to just drop off the map?”
“In simplistic terms, yes I suppose so.” he replies, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, though. It's merely a suggestion.”
Dean doesn’t say anything, he just thinks that maybe this time he’s bit off more than he can chew.
--------------------
Cas and Dean have been hunting together for a month.
It’s almost December, and Dean has elected to find cases closer to the equator in an effort to stay warm. Cas doesn’t seem to care much about the temperature. Cas doesn’t seem to care much about anything. He doesn’t mind when Dean turns the music up in the impala that you can feel the bass through the seats. He doesn’t mind when they get stuck in a traffic jam and Dean starts to complain about newer cars and the way they’re built. He doesn’t mind when Dean insists they wait in line for an hour to see some crap action movie that really wasn’t worth the wait. Cas doesn’t seem to mind Dean’s company at all.
And to be honest, Dean likes having Cas around too. He likes listening to Cas discuss historical inaccuracies in books and movies that he himself has never bothered to take a peak at. He likes discussing classic rock with him during those drives down empty stretches of highway in between cases. He likes having a friend.
Cas is good backup on hunts, too. He’s fairly formidable with the sawed-off Dean hands him on a vengeful spirit in New Mexico, but Dean decides he’s far better with a blade after watching him take down a shifter in Florida.
They’re stopped at a gas station in Arkansas when it happens.
There are two men and a woman dressed in professional attire approaching them, and Dean elbows Cas in the side to draw his attention. Cas almost tells Dean off (because his favorite part of pop culture is most definitely sarcasm) before he freezes and a long, silver blade slips out the sleeve of his coat.
Dean reaches for his gun, but part of him knows it won’t do him any good.
“Castiel.”
The man at the head of the group is speaking, and Dean decides that he already hates him. His face is round and unkind and his gaze is icy and firm. The woman and man flanking his sides look just as unforgiving and Dean comes to the conclusion that he hates them too.
Cas just straightens up, eyes studying the three, “Zachariah, Hester, Inias. I wish I could say I’m glad to see you.”
The woman’s face is absolutely livid, and Dean isn’t sure how he feels about being on the receiving side of her wrath.
“What have you done, Castiel?” she says with a hiss, “Dean Winchester must break the first seal.”
“Cas?”
“Get in the car, Dean.” he whispers, “Be ready to go.”
Dean almost tells him no, but the look in Cas’ eyes tells him it’d be better to just grab his keys and wait for his cue.
Cas stays planted outside of Baby’s door, blade in hand. Dean considers just telling him to just hop in and they can drive off, but he knows that wouldn’t do any good.
Then the group is attacking and Cas lunges for the other man, the one standing opposite the woman, pushing the blade through his chest. His eyes and mouth glows bright and hot, like light bleeding underneath a doorway from a locked room. He falls backwards, and the other man drags his own blade acros Cas’ arm in a swift sweep. Cas is jumping into the passenger seat and Dean is slamming on the gas pedal.
He watches the man and woman in the rearview mirror as they speed off, but then he blinks and it's as if they were never there to begin with.
--------------------
They drive for a while in silence, and then Dean finally decides to speak,
“Who were they?”
Cas sighes, turning to face the window, “My brothers and sister.”
He waits for him to elaborate, but when he doesn’t he asks the question they both know is coming, “...You were never supposed to help me, were you?”
And Castiel confesses.
He speaks of angels and demons. He speaks of Heaven and Hell and Dean doesn’t want to believe him. He tries to convince himself that Cas is a liar, but he knows that’s just something he’s telling himself so he doesn’t have to face the truth. Cas tells Dean about the apocalypse and the cage, about the locks and the breaking of the first seal and how it has to be Dean. How it was always going to be Dean. He tells Dean that he is an angel, maybe the only angel that truly wants to stop the apocalypse. He tells Dean that he found it unjust to sentence him to Hell just to break the seal and that he approached him to help him stop the apocalypse. He tells him that God is gone, that the archangels command the Host now.
Dean wishes he hadn’t asked.
--------------------
It’s December.
Dean and Cas are standing in a barn in Minnesota.
They’ve just finished picking off the last of a werewolf pack, but they’d gotten there too late. The bodies are sitting at the far edge of the building, the rot slowed ever so slightly by the freezing temperatures. Dean thinks that if he wasn’t so used to the smell of death, he’d vomit.
He’s been thinking for awhile about finally cutting off Sam and Dad, and he hasn’t been seeing as many cons as of late. He hasn’t heard from Sam in weeks and Dad’s latest case from him was a bust. He knows about the angels now, and they know about him. He knows that anyone who’s ever heard his name is a target now.
The oldest body in the barn is a close enough fit. It’s been mauled beyond recognition, but he knows it looks enough like him in the dim, early morning light to be a formidable clone. Cas doesn’t say anything when Dean goes back outside, grabs one of his shirts, and tears it beyond repair. He already knows.
Dean feels bad about faking his death, his murder , but he knows it's the only way to go into hiding properly. He can’t risk Sam or Dad getting hurt because of him, they both have enough on their plates as is. He thinks maybe he’s doing them a favor by taking himself off the board.
He takes the pictures on his phone.
He'll find somewhere to develop them some time after the hunt. He’ll clear his old aliases, switch his number and change Baby’s plates, too. Anything to erase himself from the world. He doesn’t have a lot of connections with many hunters, but he knows just enough to make sure the pictures reach Sammy and Dad.
Later, he’ll whisper an apology to them while he sends the pictures off to be delivered anonymously.
Dean Winchester is dead, and he wishes he could say it hurts to see him go.
-------------------
Dean Winchester is twenty three and the weight in his chest doesn’t feel as heavy as it used to.
He and Cas spend his birthday in a motel room just outside of Las Vegas watching westerns from stolen dvds. Cas doesn’t really understand the moves and Dean knows he’s just pretending he does to spare his feelings. They get cake at some random bakery, and drinks from a liquor store a mile away. Cas gives Dean a copy of “Of Mice and Men”, because it's interesting and compelling and Cas wants Dean to experience something he finds so humanistically beautiful. Dean thanks him, and they watch movies until the early hours of the morning and Dean falls asleep still in his jeans.
All of his old cell phone numbers are gone, and he feels some sort of bitter relief as he drifts off knowing that no one is going to send him a half-hearted message to wish him a happy birthday that they’d nearly forgotten.
In the morning, they go for breakfast and Dean eats so much bacon he almost regrets it. He’s still hungover, but one E.T. touch from Cas later, and it’s like he never drank at all. He asks if Cas has been holding out on his angel powers this whole time, and Cas just shrugs.
Dean laughs, and part of him thinks he could get used to this.
-------------------
The demons show up three days later.
It starts slow, just one that Cas catched out of the corner of his eye. Dean exorcises it, but two more show up in its place. He exorcises those as well, but three new ones show up after that.
Cas kills two, and they exorcise the third to send a message.
Only one shows up after that. He’s short and wears a suit and has red eyes, and Dean knows something about him is different from the other demons that have been trailing them. He banters in every sentence he says, and his accent really defines him as the smarmy bastard Dean knows he is.
He calls himself Crowley, and Cas doesn’t trust him one bit when he says that he’s willing to help them stop the release of Lucifer. Dean hesitates to trust him as well, but Crowley says he’ll prove his usefulness.
Surprisingly, he does.
He draws devil’s traps on the cold concrete floor of an abandoned warehouse. He comes alone, making sure that the only three entities in the building are himself, Castiel, and Dean. He leaves with a wink and a promise to bring back “the goods.”
He returns with the yellow-eyed demon, and Dean doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone lose their snappy attitude and cockiness as quickly as the demon does when Cas hands Dean his blade without a word.
Revenge doesn’t feel as good as he’d hoped.
-----------------
Crowley gives them the names of all the big players in Hell. Anyone who’s anyone is on his list, and his list belongs to Dean now. Dean reads it and then reads it again, making sure he remembers each detail on the paper. He doesn’t exactly trust Crowley, but he knows he has his own rewards to gain by helping them, and Dean knows that if he becomes a problem, they can just kill him, too.
Cas points out the most important demons to the apocalypse, says he recognizes their names from whispers in Heaven.
Dean’s relieved to see that of the top three, they’ve already taken out yellow-eyes.
Azazel , he later learns, was his actual name.
He wants to go after the other two, Alastair and Lilith, but Cas suggests otherwise. He suggests they wait and watch until the right time to go after them. Dean knows he’s right, but he can’t help wanting to be impulsive.
He doesn’t think patience has ever been one of his strong points.
----------------
He wakes up to coughing.
It’s still dark out, but it's winter and the sun rises slow so he knows it's really not that early. He hears coughing again and turns to the bed next to him.
“Cas?”
“Dean.” Cas sounds surprised, as if he hadn’t meant for Dean to hear him, “Did I wake you?”
“No, man. Are you, uh, alright?” he asks, and even though it's dark he knows Cas is frowning.
“I’m… falling.” Cas says quietly.
“Falling?”
“Slowly becoming human.” he replies and Dean is rendered speechless. He didn’t know that was something an angel could do. He feels like in some way, shape or form, this is his fault. He caused Cas to go against Heaven, made him lose his family and home.
Neither of them say anything else.
Dean feels like there’s something caught in his throat.
-----------------
It's March now.
Crowley pops in occasionally to give Cas and Dean some information, but this time is different.
He brings a gun with him, an old ancient thing with eight bullets along with it. He tells them he got it off of one of his minions, but Dean doesn’t really believe that and doesn’t have the heart to ask where it’s actually from. Crowley calls it the Colt. He tells them it can kill anything, demons and angels included. He says he’s going to find Alastair for them, but thinks that one blade between them won’t do much good and that’s why he’s brought them the Colt.
Dean takes it from him, and something about it feels right in his hands.
------------------
Today is May second.
Today is Sam’s birthday .
Dean and Cas are sitting in a motel room, watching reruns of shows Dean doesn’t know the names of. Cas has been quiet, but Dean thinks he doesn't actually know why Dean is upset and wants to give him space.
Dean isn’t sure he wants space.
He thinks that maybe he should call Sam, but he knows he shouldn’t. He can’t . He considers sending a card, something anonymous, but he knows he can’t do that either.
His stomach feels heavy and his headaches. He raised Sam. He was his mother, father, and everything in between and yet he hasn’t talked to him since September. Sammy thinks he’s dead, and he’s okay with that. Hell, he’s glad . Yet he can’t help but wish that he could tell Sam happy birthday just one more time. He used to steal things for Sam when they were little and Dad would leave them alone in motel rooms to go on hunts. He cooked awful birthday dinners out of food that was rapidly approaching its expiration just to see his brother smile because Dean was there and he cared .
His breath hitches in his throat and his eyes sting.
“Dean?”
Cas is sitting next to him now, and Dean collapses into him, hands grabbing at his coat in tight fists. He thinks he’s crying, but he isn’t sure. His face is warm and Cas is hugging him back, whispering words of reassurance.
For the first time in a long time, Dean lets his guard down.
He feels himself let go of some of the weight in his chest that drags him down.
------------------
It’s June now, and Crowley has found Alastair.
He’s in some abandoned building in New Mexico, he tells them. He’s torturing demons for fun , because apparently that’s something he does regularly. Dean packs up his things and he and Cas drive to New Mexico.
They’re sitting outside the building, Dean checks the Colt and then checks it again because he can’t help but feel nervous. He’s about to check it again when Cas puts a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t say anything, but Dean feels better nonetheless.
They walk inside with their heads held high.
Alastair is there, standing over a tray of trinkets and sharp objects that are rusted and bloody. His meatsuit is some guy that Dean thinks he’s seen on a missing poster in Maine. He doesn’t care enough to ask.
Alastair turns, and his eyes are white . Something about them makes Dean sick. Cas is moving forward and Dean has to stop himself from grabbing his arm and pulling him back. He knows they can kill Alastair, but he doesn’t know what it will cost to do so.
Alastair throws Cas across the room with the flick of his wrist, and Dean is pulling the Colt from where it’s tucked into his jeans when he too is tossed like a ragdoll. He feels his arm snap when he hits the floor, and he shuts his eyes tight and takes a deep breath.
Alastair is walking towards Cas, and Dean panics. His heart is beating in his ears and he doesn’t even feel himself crawling forward to retrieve the Colt. With his good arm he aims for Alastair’s back and holds his breath.
He pulls the trigger.
-----------------
Dean’s stuck in a cast for the next six weeks, the doctor tells him.
Dean knows Cas feels guilty, but he tells him that he doesn’t really mind. Cas needs to save whatever angel part of him is left for a rainy day. A fractured arm doesn’t really make Dean’s list of big bad emergencies, so he tells Cas that he doesn’t need to be healed.
They’re sitting in their motel room going over more of Crowely’s information when there’s a knock at the door. Cas is sitting closer to the door and Dean likes playing the injured card, so he makes him open it.
There’s a woman and child out there. The woman looks exhausted, deep bags under her eyes and a permanent grimace on her face. The girl looks sad and confused and Dean feels like he recognizes the look in her eyes as the same one that he had when he was younger.
The woman is yelling at Cas, telling him that the girl, Claire, is his child, too. She shoves a folder into his hands and he desperately tries to explain that he is not his vessel, a man named James.
The woman doesn’t care. She leaves without the girl and tells Cas to have a “nice fucking life”.
Cas tells Claire to come inside, and she does. Dean turns on the tv for her and tunes it to some kid’s show before stepping outside to talk with Cas.
Cas looks distressed to say the least. His eyes dart to the door and to Dean and back again until Dean puts a hand on his shoulder and tells him to calm down and think. Cas suggests putting Claire into the foster system, which Dean immediately shoots down.
“No, no way. They don’t actually care about the kids there.” He tells him, “They only care about numbers.”
“So what do we do?”
Dean says they’ll drive her to a friend’s place, and she can stay there until they’ve killed the last demon.
“And then?”
“And then we’ll get some place in a nice town and retire.” Dean says it like he means it.
Cas asks if that's what he wants.
Dean knows it is.
-----------------
Claire doesn’t say anything when they walk back into the room, but she watches them closely.
Cas sits down across from her and chokes on his words as he tries his best to explain who he is. He tells her that he is an “Angel of the Lord” and that he asked her father for his body in order to stop the apocalypse. He tells her that he is becoming human, because some of the angels are actually trying to cause the apocalypse and are trying to stop him. He explains that because he is becoming human, her father has left and gone to Heaven.
She asks if he’s happy.
He tells her that he is.
She asks him if she is going to live with them from now on, and Dean tells her that she’s going to stay with his uncle for a bit and then they’ll get an apartment and that if she wants to, she can.
She says that she thinks she does, and then asks Cas why he stutters so much for an angel.
Dean laughs so hard that Cas nearly smacks him upside the head.
------------------
They’re driving up to Bobby’s to drop Claire off and Dean is nervous.
Claire is in the backseat, asking questions about angels and criticizing Cas’ responses because to her they’re “stupid and don’t make any sense”. AC/DC is playing quietly through the speakers, and Dean’s trying his best to tap along on the wheel and keep himself calm.
Dean knows that Bobby thinks he’s dead because if Dad and Sam know, Bobby also knows. Bobby’s gonna kill him as soon as Baby’s sitting in his driveway, which will be in less than five minutes if he keeps driving as fast as he is. He considers slowing down and pulling over just to work himself up to finish the drive, but one glance at Cas and Claire arguing about who would win in a fight between a werewolf and a ghost gives him enough courage to keep his foot on the gas.
---------------
They’re standing outside Bobby’s house and Dean’s got his good hand in his pocket to keep it from shaking. Cas is explaining to Claire that Bobby is a friend of Deans and will answer any questions she has about monsters, but he’s really talking at her rather than with her. She’s too busy petting Bobby’s sad excuse for a guard dog and staring at him like he’s the coolest dog in the world. Dean chuckles, but his smile falls as he hears the locks behind the door click and Bobby’s frowning face is in the doorway.
He’s holding a sawed off shotgun and his usual pinched face gives way to surprise when he sees Dean standing there.
“Hey, Bobby.” Dean says with a sheepish smile.
“You’re dead.” Bobby says gruffly, cocking the shotgun and Dean holds his hand up in surrender, the other still stuck in a sling.
“Surprise.” He coughs, “Not dead. Feel free to test me yourself, but, uh, we need to talk.”
Bobby grunts and waves them inside, heading straight for the kitchen. He fills up three silver shot glasses with what he already knows is holy water and gives them to Dean, Cas and Claire. They don’t ask questions, just drink them and hand the glasses back to Bobby.
Dean takes his shot last, and as soon as he does Bobby is engulfing him in a tight hug.
“We thought you were dead.” Bobby hisses, “We held a funeral without a body, boy. Why didn’t you tell anyone you were alright?”
“I’m sorry, Bobby.” he says in a strained voice, “I had to keep you safe.”
“ Safe? Your daddy nearly flew off the rails. Sam hasn’t called me in months . We got pictures of your body and-” he stops, scoffing, “You sent them, didn’t you? They know you’re alive?”
“Yeah, I sent them. An-And no.” Dean says, “No, they don’t know. Not yet. You can’t tell them Bobby, please don’t tell them. I’ve got one more job and then I’m gonna tell them myself.”
Bobby just sighs and goes to pour himself a drink, “So what the hell are you doing here then?”
“Right.” Dean clears his throat, “Cas and I need to get just one more case done, and we were hoping Claire could stay here with you for a couple weeks.”
Bobby’s eyes narrow, “She knows about the job?”
Cas nods, “And she asks… a lot of questions. Right, Claire?”
Claire just frowns, “You’d ask a lot of questions if you were me.”
Dean decides right then and there that Claire is his favorite seven year old in the world.
Bobby nods, rubbing his temples because he already knows Claire is going to be a handful, “Yeah. I’ll play babysitter, Dean. You better come back here soon as you’re done, boy, or I’ll kick your ghost’s ass so hard you’ll be right back in the land of the living.”
Dean laughs, “Thanks, Bobby.”
He kneels down and hands Claire a piece of paper and a fifty dollar bill, “Ok, listen up, kid. You call me and Cas if there’s an emergency. I’m giving you fifty bucks to go buy new clothes with Uncle Bobby, so don’t spend it all on candy alright?”
Claire nods and takes the paper and money, “When will you be back?”
Dean shrugs and stands back up, “A week, two at the latest but we’ll call. You’ll have a helluva lot of free time, though, so I guess you’ll have time to think about what you want your room to look like when we’re done.”
She smiles, “Can we get a dog?”
Dean blanks, looking at Cas for help, before turning back to her, “Well, uh, why don’t we wait a while and get settled and then we can talk about it.”
She nods, and Bobby tells her where her room is at. Cas knows they need to talk, so he excuses himself and goes to wait in the car to give Bobby and Dean space.
“You’re retiring.”
Dean smiles just a little, “Yeah, I think I am.”
“Never thought you'd go all domestic on me. It suits you.” Bobby says, and Dean feels a little bit better about all of this. He had always hated the idea of living the “apple pie life”, but something about it has started to stick with him recently. He likes having Cas around, and something about that car ride with Claire in the backseat made him happy, really happy, which isn't something Dean is used to.
“Me either.” he says, but he thinks he’s ready to settle down.
He’s had enough drama for a lifetime.
-----------------
They call Crowley to find the last demon on the list because that son of a bitch has a phone like a regular person .
He says that Lilith is in Indiana, that he doesn’t have an exact address, but to wait and then he’ll give one to them.
They wait in a hotel room outside Indianapolis, and Dean is cleaning his guns when Cas asks him,
“How are you, Dean?”
Dean smiles, “I’m good, man. Really good. I never thought I’d want to be… normal. Hell, I never thought I’d make it to twenty three. Hunters don’t exactly have an award winning life span, you know?”
Cas nods, grimacing.
“But,” Dean continues, “I think I’m looking forward to the future for once. I’ve got you and Claire and my Baby and I love it. I think I can still help people if I retire. I want to still help people, even if it's just from the sidelines like what Bobby does. I think I’ll get a job as a mechanic too, that’s something I’m good at. You’ll have to get one somewhere, since you’ll be human soon but I think you can find something you’ll like. I don’t think we’ll be the most… conventional family, but I think I’d like to be one.”
Cas smiles, and Dean feels himself smile back, “I think I’d like to be one too, Dean.”
------------------
Lilith is in New Harmony masquerading as a little girl.
Dean doesn’t know how he feels when Crowley calls to reveal this piece of information. She can’t be much older than Claire, and she looks like her too. Blonde with blue eyes and a curious face.
He and Cas are sitting in Baby and his hands and face all feel cold. It’s warm out, but he can’t shake the feeling that something will go wrong. He thinks Cas feels it too, but if he does he doesn’t say anything.
They walk in quietly, moving around the side of the house and through the back door. They climb up into the second story window, but Cas holds him back and tells him that the demon has switched vessels from the girl to the mother.
Dean feels relief, and they make their way downstairs.
He isn’t sure exactly how it happens, but she pins Cas to the wall and Dean to a table. He’s getting nervous now, because Lilith is stronger than Alastair ever was, and her white eyes fill him with the same level of unease.
She sneers at him, tells him he can’t stop the apocalypse and he’s foolish to try, but he knows she’s bluffing. She’s panicking, and she knows he can see right through her act. She whistles, and Dean can hear something walking towards him but he can’t see it. It’s big, whatever it is, and it’s growling .
The thought crosses his mind, but he isn’t certain it is what he thinks it is until Cas whispers the word “hellhound”.
Then it's dragging him down off the table and tearing into his chest. He thinks he hears Cas call out to him, but he isn’t sure because everything is just so quiet . Everything is muffled.
Dean thinks that maybe he’s drowning.
Cas breaks free of Lilith’s hold and stabs her through the back. She sparks orange, and Dean can see the light go out in her eyes.
The hellhound runs, because it’s master is dead and there’s nothing left for it here.
Dean thinks his chest hurts, but everything is hazy and he can’t really tell. Cas is on his knees next to him, and he’s saying something that Dean can’t quite make out. He wants to tell Cas he’s sorry, because now they won’t have a chance to live the life that he’s been imagining. He can feel himself getting more tired and he doesn’t have the strength to fight against it.
Cas is reaching forward, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder and saying something under his breath. Dean knows what he’s doing, and he wants to tell him to stop but he can’t because he isn’t strong enough to form words. He doesn’t want Cas to waste the rest of his grace on him, because Cas could need it for himself one day and Dean doesn’t want him to get hurt.
Cas’ eyes burn warm and blue and Dean thinks it might just be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and then he feels his strength return to him and Cas is moving backwards to give him air. He looks down at his chest and sees the gaping wounds gone, replaced with angry red scars and a burn on his shoulder where Cas has just removed his hand.
Cas’ eyes are heavy and burdened as he speaks, “I’m sorry. I-I’m not strong enough to finish… I’m human now and-”
Dean moves towards him and kisses him right then and there because he almost died and he never wants to leave Cas again.
They sleep in the same bed when they get to the motel.
-----------------
They go to Georgia, because Dean doesn’t think he can ever go back to Kansas and he’s always enjoyed the beach anyways. Dean gets that stupid cast removed because luckily Cas healed the break when he healed the hellhound ounds. They stay in a motel for a few weeks while Dean and Cas find jobs and Claire gets enrolled in the school system. Cas changes his (or rather Jimmy’s) legal name to Castiel, because he doesn’t think that he can stand hearing his vessel’s name and neither can Claire. Dean gets a job as a mechanic in town, and Cas finds work at a second hand bookstore. He doesn’t tell Claire, but he’s been looking into going to the pet store downtown to get her a puppy for her birthday. God knows she deserves it.
They get a two bedroom apartment and Claire paints her room grey and pink and explains to Cas that those are the kinds of colors you see in a teenager’s bedroom and she’s just as mature as a teenager. Cas disagrees but doesn’t tell her that.
Dean calls Bobby once a week and lets him know how they are. He doesn’t tell Bobby that he hasn’t tried to contact Dad and Sam yet. He doesn’t think he’s ready yet, he just wants to get settled in with Claire and Cas.
He watches Cas when he gardens out on their balcony. He doesn’t think Dean notices, but he talks to the bees about his day and about his family. Dean can’t marry him, because technically “Castiel Novak” is still legally married to Amelia Novak, who no one has been in contact with since she signed over custody of Claire and left her with Cas and Dean, but Dean starts to look for rings anyways because that's the kind of life Cas deserves.
The angels have vacated the Earth and returned to Heaven, Crowley says on a visit to update them. They’ve given up trying to free Lucifer and he himself has taken over Hell. He thanks them for their help and tells them that they won’t be bothered by his demons and neither will Dad, Sam or Bobby. He says he’ll call if he ever needs a favor, and they should do the same and then he’s gone.
It's the beginning of August when he sees Claire showing Cas how to make cookies in their oven, and he thinks he’s finally ready to see Sam. He and Cas take five days off of work and all three of them pile into the Impala to drive to California to visit Sam. He’s living in an apartment in Palo Alto with his girlfriend, Bobby tells him. He gets the address and puts them up at a hotel fifteen minutes away.
He’s standing on Sam’s doorstep now, Cas holding his hand and Claire standing to his side with a grip on the hem of his worn leather jacket.
He knocks on the door and for once, Dean Winchester doesn’t feel like he’s drowning.