On These More Familiar Roads--Epilogue (5/5)--SPN Fic
Navigation: Chapter Four--Epilogue
“So, is this the last of it?”
Cas’ apartment seems bigger with all the furniture gone. Dean has the last cardboard box balanced on his hip and Sam’s outside packing the Impala. The plan is to take it all up to Rufus’ cabin in Whitefish and decide where to go from there. At first, Cas had been tempted to stay in the apartment and keep his job at the store, but it really was too small for three grown men, and he’d been getting suspicious looks from his landlord for weeks. He’d given his thirty-day notice twenty-nine days ago.
“Almost.” Cas crosses over to the built-in closet and stands on tiptoe to reach the top shelf. There’s a plastic shopping bag in the back corner and he drags it down, pulling its contents. “I put this away after I Fell,” he says, shaking it out, and Dean’s eyes widen.
“Seriously? You kept the coat?”
“It reminded me of you,” Cas admits. “Of who I was when I met you, and I couldn’t bear to face that.” He shrugs. “But I couldn’t get rid of it either.”
He shrugs it on, and fits just like how he remembered it, a little too big but comfortable. Just for a second, he feels like the old Castiel.
“That coat always looked hot on you,” Dean says, and Cas raises his eyebrows.
“I’ll bear that in mind.” He crumples up the plastic bag and shoves it into his pocket. The keys are already in the lock. He shuts the door behind them, and there’s actually a pang of regret. He’d learned how to be human in this place. For that, if nothing else, he was in its debt.
Dean’s already halfway down the first flight of stairs, and Cas takes the steps two at a time to catch up with him. “Are you going to keep hunting?”
“I dunno. Probably. I think Sam’s going to take a break, though.”
“I want you to teach me how to be a hunter,” Cas says, and as soon as the words are out he knows it’s the right decision. He’s been thinking about the future a lot lately. With the Leviathans gone and the world relatively back to normal, he’d been able to block out what he’d done in the last few years of being an angel. Now that the Winchesters are back, though, it’s harder to forget. If he can be a hunter, then maybe he can start to make a difference, help heal the world that he almost broke beyond repair.
He and Sam have talked about options already, of maybe opening some kind of consulting business using Sam’s hunting knowledge and what’s left of what Cas knew as an angel, but Dean needs someone to watch his back.
“What, you and me, traveling the country, you having to listen to my crappy singing, eating even crappier food, and staying in motel rooms that are either freezing cold, way too hot, or have a weird smell? Being in danger every other fucking day and bored to hell on the others? Didn’t you already get enough of that?”
“Not nearly,” Cas says, catching Dean’s arm. Dean turns towards him eagerly, and the box clatters onto the steps as Dean fists his hands in Cas’ lapels. Dean’s lips are soft and warm, and they fit together with Cas’ perfectly.
Cas pulls away first. “Sam’s probably wondering if we got lost.”
“Let him wonder,” Dean says, and bends to pick up the box, angling himself so Cas has no choice but to admire his ass.
Cas knows it’s not going to be easy. In just the few months he and Dean have been trying out-whatever it is they have, it’s already been more difficult than he could have imagined. He’d thought he knew Dean, but every time he thinks he’s broken past one wall of denial and entrenched self-loathing, he finds another.
They reach the bottom of the stairs and Dean’s hand slips into Cas’. It’s not much of a gesture-they’re hardly making out in the streets-but it’s the most acknowledgement of their relationship that Dean’s ever done in public. Sam spots them and makes the requisite disgusted little brother noise, but as he turns back to making sure the boxes are stable in the back seat, he’s smiling.
Cas knows better than to think there’s going to be a happy ending at the end of all this. They’d need a miracle for that. Just for a while, though, he can hope. After all, miracles used to be his business. Maybe, just maybe, they can pull off one more.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
A/N 2: Thank you all so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed it. If you haven't already, please head over to mircabre's awesome art here!
“So, is this the last of it?”
Cas’ apartment seems bigger with all the furniture gone. Dean has the last cardboard box balanced on his hip and Sam’s outside packing the Impala. The plan is to take it all up to Rufus’ cabin in Whitefish and decide where to go from there. At first, Cas had been tempted to stay in the apartment and keep his job at the store, but it really was too small for three grown men, and he’d been getting suspicious looks from his landlord for weeks. He’d given his thirty-day notice twenty-nine days ago.
“Almost.” Cas crosses over to the built-in closet and stands on tiptoe to reach the top shelf. There’s a plastic shopping bag in the back corner and he drags it down, pulling its contents. “I put this away after I Fell,” he says, shaking it out, and Dean’s eyes widen.
“Seriously? You kept the coat?”
“It reminded me of you,” Cas admits. “Of who I was when I met you, and I couldn’t bear to face that.” He shrugs. “But I couldn’t get rid of it either.”
He shrugs it on, and fits just like how he remembered it, a little too big but comfortable. Just for a second, he feels like the old Castiel.
“That coat always looked hot on you,” Dean says, and Cas raises his eyebrows.
“I’ll bear that in mind.” He crumples up the plastic bag and shoves it into his pocket. The keys are already in the lock. He shuts the door behind them, and there’s actually a pang of regret. He’d learned how to be human in this place. For that, if nothing else, he was in its debt.
Dean’s already halfway down the first flight of stairs, and Cas takes the steps two at a time to catch up with him. “Are you going to keep hunting?”
“I dunno. Probably. I think Sam’s going to take a break, though.”
“I want you to teach me how to be a hunter,” Cas says, and as soon as the words are out he knows it’s the right decision. He’s been thinking about the future a lot lately. With the Leviathans gone and the world relatively back to normal, he’d been able to block out what he’d done in the last few years of being an angel. Now that the Winchesters are back, though, it’s harder to forget. If he can be a hunter, then maybe he can start to make a difference, help heal the world that he almost broke beyond repair.
He and Sam have talked about options already, of maybe opening some kind of consulting business using Sam’s hunting knowledge and what’s left of what Cas knew as an angel, but Dean needs someone to watch his back.
“What, you and me, traveling the country, you having to listen to my crappy singing, eating even crappier food, and staying in motel rooms that are either freezing cold, way too hot, or have a weird smell? Being in danger every other fucking day and bored to hell on the others? Didn’t you already get enough of that?”
“Not nearly,” Cas says, catching Dean’s arm. Dean turns towards him eagerly, and the box clatters onto the steps as Dean fists his hands in Cas’ lapels. Dean’s lips are soft and warm, and they fit together with Cas’ perfectly.
Cas pulls away first. “Sam’s probably wondering if we got lost.”
“Let him wonder,” Dean says, and bends to pick up the box, angling himself so Cas has no choice but to admire his ass.
Cas knows it’s not going to be easy. In just the few months he and Dean have been trying out-whatever it is they have, it’s already been more difficult than he could have imagined. He’d thought he knew Dean, but every time he thinks he’s broken past one wall of denial and entrenched self-loathing, he finds another.
They reach the bottom of the stairs and Dean’s hand slips into Cas’. It’s not much of a gesture-they’re hardly making out in the streets-but it’s the most acknowledgement of their relationship that Dean’s ever done in public. Sam spots them and makes the requisite disgusted little brother noise, but as he turns back to making sure the boxes are stable in the back seat, he’s smiling.
Cas knows better than to think there’s going to be a happy ending at the end of all this. They’d need a miracle for that. Just for a while, though, he can hope. After all, miracles used to be his business. Maybe, just maybe, they can pull off one more.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
A/N 2: Thank you all so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed it. If you haven't already, please head over to mircabre's awesome art here!