Until the End | A Supernatural~Destiel Fic

Chapter 8

No matter what Dean did, he couldn't pinch himself enough times or blink hard enough to make himself wake up. Then he realized: This isn't a dream. He's-he's really here.

Before another thought crossed his mind, Castiel was in front of him, picking him up from where he lay on the ground.

Castiel's eyes had bags under them, and his lids were lowered, as if a great burden was weighing him down and depriving him of sleep, but they still shined as bright and blue as ever.

"You look much better, Dean," Cas said, his voice raspy and broken.

Dean was still at a loss for words. But instead of forming a sentence, Dean's mind retorted to anger and rage.

He clenched his fist and, before he knew it, swung it upwards towards Castiel's face. Cas caught the fist in his hand midair with enough force for Dean to let out a small grunt of pain.

"Sorry, reflexes. I suppose I deserved that. Please, try again," Cas said sincerely.

Instead of swinging again, Dean simply stopped and stared.

He took in every feature of Castiel's face that made it his own.

He memorized the physique of his jawline, the way the bridge of his nose narrowed as it neared his eyes, and the way his eyebrows furrowed and his head titled as he became confused.

He stayed like this for a while until he pulled Cas into a strong embrace.

Dean's breath became out of place and raspy as he grasped the man he had nearly come to forget.

He let one tear cascade down his right cheek, only one. That is, until Cas said, "I missed you, too." At that, Dean closed his eyes and let loose a stream.

~

Sam, after replaying the events in his mind over and over again trying to make sense of them, made three cups of coffee in the kitchen and retreated back to the living room.

Dean and Castiel sat in chairs on opposite sides of the room, simply staring.

"Thank you, Sam." Cas said as he was handed a mug. "How have you been?"

"A-alright, I guess," Sam said, still uncertain of the truth.

"Good. It's nice to see you," Cas said with a smile.

"Yeah, you too. How did you-? How-how are you here?" Sam asked.

Cas looked down and sighed. "Yes. I assumed I'd have to...explain myself eventually."

Castiel cleared his throat before continuing. "When I sacrificed my life to save Sam, I truly believed it was my end, hence my rather...elaborate farewell. When the blue mist entered my body, I experienced such physical and mental pain." He was about to continue when Dean interrupted him.

"Red."

"Pardon?" Cas said, confused and almost angry at the interruption.

"The mist was red. Not blue. Remember?" Dean said, no hesitation or meaning in the tone of his voice.

"Y-yes, of course. A simple slip of the tongue. My apologies." Cas said.

"Please, continue," Sam said, annoyed by Dean and attempting to release some of the tension.

"Yes. As I was saying, unimaginable pain jolted through my body. I couldn't imagine anything worse than what I was goi-" Castiel was still talking, but Dean tuned him out, forcing his thoughts over Cas' words.

There's something wrong here. Castiel doesn't usually obsess over making us feel sorry for him. He would make sure I, we, were okay first. Something just doesn't seem-- He blurted out another accusation before thinking to himself again.

"Where's your trench coat, Cas?"

"Uhm, my what?" Castiel said, obviously irritated with yet another interruption, but...Was that a hint of worry in his voice? Dean thought.

"Your trench coat. The only outerwear you would put on for the last eleven years."

"Oh yes, of course. Well, I grew rather tired of it. Who needs a trench coat anyways? It was a rather dull excuse for a coat, if I do say so myself."

Dean stopped his jaw before it could reach the floor.

Before he said anything else, the demeanor on Cas' face changed, and he instantly halted in his story.

"Well, I think I'll turn in for the night. Do you have a place for me to rest?"

Sam, too, was surprised at what he heard, but not shocked enough to stop himself from responding.

"Uh, yeah. Of course. I'll show you."

"Thank you, Sam. Goodnight, Dean."

Dean immediately lifted his head and spoke. "Yeah, Cas...actually I gotta ask you something. When you, uh, died...where did you go?"

"To Heaven, of course." Cas said.

"And while you were there," Dean said, not taking his eyes off Castiel. "Did you happen to explain what's happened so far to, uh, Jimmy Novak?"

Castiel, seemingly unaffected, replied with "I don't believe I know a Jimmy Novak. You should concern yourself with getting your facts straight before you ask about someone I am unfamiliar with, Dean." Cas said harshly.

Dean stood up and tensed.

And at that, he and Sam made their way down the hall. Sam returned shortly after to a shaking Dean holding a gun in his hand.

"Woah, Dean. What are you doing?"

Dean, with a genuine look of terror on his face, said, "Sammy, that is not Castiel."