[FIC] For Love Is Immortality for agardenafter
Gift type: Fanfic
Title: For Love is Immortality
Author: andrea_deer
Recipient: agardenafter
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 9284
Warnings: swearing in high doses, very vague sex scene, mating rituals, arranged marriages.
Spoilers: This universe goes AU during the final of season four, but it uses some small details revealed later on.
Summary: Castiel rebelled and helped Dean stop Sam from starting the Apocalypse. Four months later the Winchesters learn that their favorite angel not only is not dead, but actually rules Heaven.
Author notes: I was aiming at third and very vague prompt for a story in which one character takes the other as a partner, but in the eyes of pretty much everyone else it is not a good choice. I hope I managed to pull it off. :)
The only light in the motel room was coming now from the huge, blue neon-sign advertising va_ancy and from slowly setting full moon. Sam slept unevenly on the small bed further away from the door and Dean was half-heartedly cleaning their weapons and packing them away so they’d be able to leave in the morning. From time to time he’d sat back to take a swing of his beer and watch his brother for a moment as he whimpered painfully in his sleep.
The demon blood was now mostly gone, after few painful weeks in Bobby’s panic room, but it left the addiction behind. Sam was weakened and pale, trembling from the power he used to contain. He needed to gain his strength back sleeping and eating and keeping safe, but Dean knew his mind was going stir-crazy by now. Simple werewolf hunt seemed just perfect for a start. One day of research, few hours of a hunt and the job was done.
The fact that even after that, Sam practically collapsed on the bed, tired and shaking was a sure sign that for a while they will have to stick with these kinds of hunts only. Leaving the loose-running demons and tempted-with-promises-of-Apocalypse ancient monsters to other hunters.
Dean tried to not hear whenever one of them got ripped to pieces. He and Sam have done enough for a while. Saving the world from demons and bunch of angels who wanted to jump start Judgment Day gave them right to take a sick day or two.
The window behind him shattered as the beast jumped through it, tackling Dean to the floor. He barely noticed as Sam sat up, alarmed, and, almost before awaking completely, started shooting at the hairy monster attacking Dean. The impact of the bullets made the werewolf weaver slightly, but did not stop it. Dean cursed: regular bullets.
He fought desperately. After facing the angels and stopping the Lucifer from rising, he was determined to not end as a chew toy of a common werewolf! His mind in panic settled on a blasphemous mix of prayers and curses.
You dicks from heaven! Don’t let this fucker eat me, come on! You fucking… God… Cas… oh, fuck, help!
The bright light filled the room, blinding Dean as the beast from above him disappeared. As he blinked, two fingers touched his forehead and the blood from his torso has disappeared along with the wounds it seeped from. Slowly the lightness softened and disappeared, making Dean able to recognize the figure standing before him in an easily recognizable trenchcoat.
“Son of a bitch!” gasped the older Winchester looking up at the angel.
“Hello, Dean.”
“Cas?” asked Sam in surprise. More to fill the awkward silence than to actually make sure of the angel’s identity.
The tension in the room hadn’t yet reached the dangerous to life levels, but it was probably only thanks to the fact that Dean seemed pretty much shell-shocked. He heaved himself up, but then just stood before the angel, staring at him with wide eyes. Shocked.
Shock was good, thought Sam. Shock stopped Dean from being pissed and trying to strangle an extraterrestrial being with his bare hands.
“Sam,” replied Castiel gravely, looking at him with a smile that was not awkward because of the feelings behind it, but more because of how unused the muscles needed for it were. The grimace quickly fell, though and the angel frowned at the younger Winchester. “You’re in pain.”
Sam blinked and tried catching his brother’s gaze to judge if perhaps he followed this conversation better, but Dean had yet to let his gaze leave the angel.
“Uh… Yeah, you know, demon blood detox does that to you.”
Castiel made a step towards him, raising his hand and Sam tried to stop himself from flinching. Two fingertips touched his forehead and the crawling he felt under his skin for past few months disappeared. He only noticed that his left hand, which was now curled around the gun, was trembling when it stopped. Completely at ease, the strain in his muscles seeped out along with the pain.
“Wow,” he breathed in awe. His body was so relaxed and painless now he only wanted to crawl back under the covers and have a first pain-free sleep in ages. “Thanks.”
Castiel was still frowning.
“You should have called me sooner.”
And that made Sam alert again, because it was probably absolutely the worst thing the angel could have said. Sam looked at Dean, noticing with no surprise that Dean’s shock was quickly erased by fury. Nothing pissed Dean off more than hurting and worrying for people, being made vulnerable. Sam knew that as sure as the fact that worried Dean will always do everything in his power to save the ones he cares about. And then rip them a new one for scaring him in a first place.
Dean was never good with grieving and worrying, he locked it all inside and let it eat him alive. The more he hurt, the less he talked about it. And since they left Chuck’s place, the day after they’ve stopped the Apocalypse, he hadn’t even mentioned Castiel’s name.
“We should have called you sooner?” he almost hissed. “We thought you were dead, you son of a bitch! Seriously, what the hell Cas? You couldn’t have dropped by earlier?!”
Cas looked at him in confusion and if not for the fact that he knew it’d probably end badly, Sam would have hit him himself. Ridiculous as it could be, he wouldn’t mind having at least the weight of guilt that the angel had died to save the world from Sam’s mistakes lifted from his shoulders.
“I was not aware you needed my assistance.”
“Fuck assistance, Cas!” yelled Dean almost before the angel was able to finish. “Over four months ago we saw Chuck’s kitchen decorated with your insides and you haven’t find the time to drop by and say you’re okay?!”
The angel tilted his head, which seemed his version of blinking in confusion.
“You… You were concerned about me.”
Dean cursed, looking away from Castiel and running a hand through his hair in a failed attempt to calm himself.
“No, we were just peachy thinking that one of our friends is a ten thousand piece puzzle.”
“I was-” started Cas, but interrupted and stared at the ceiling as if listening to something.
Sam glanced at his brother again, but Dean still failed to meet his eyes. Sam added to the list of his regrets not having the “you hurt my brother and I will end you” conversation with Cas earlier. Demon blood really stopped him from doing many important things.
“Cas?” called Dean, weaving his hand and angel’s gaze focused on him again.
“I apologize, my brothers are calling me. I left in the middle of an important meeting when I’ve heard your prayer.”
“So, what? Now you’re gonna just… disappear again,” finished weakly Dean to the empty space, where the angel was standing. “Next time, I’m kicking his ass.”
He finally looked at his brother and Sam nodded in agreement.
“I would help, but it seems ungrateful now that nothing hurts me.”
“Think that you could have the delights of angel detox months ago,” advised Dean.
Sam fell silent worrying that if they keep at talking they may start planning angel-cide before the dawn. He fell asleep to the sounds of Dean pacing between the door and one of the walls of their small, tacky room.
They were at Bobby’s, four days later, when Dean prayed for Castiel again. He left Sam and Bobby researching Chupacabras to their hearts' content and went out into the salvage yard, walking between the cars with one hand in pocket, the other holding the beer bottle loosely. The picture of fake nonchalance. He looked up at bright sky of early autumn afternoon.
“Dear Castiel, if you can hear this and it wouldn’t be too much of a bother for your busy social schedule, it’d be really super if you could get your feathery ass down here.” He took a sip of his beer. “PS: I may want to smack your stupid face. Amen.”
“Dean,” chased the angel, clearly not much impressed with Dean’s warning.
The hunter turned around to look at the familiar figure.
“What is with you showing up behind me? You were born to creep or do you use the occasion to stare at my ass?”
Cas only frowned in the answer, clearly dismissing the question.
“You have called me.”
“Yes, well, you know, I thought if I will leave it to you to come back in touch I may wait till judgment day. You know, another one.”
Cas sighed and looked away for a moment as if tired of the conversation or at least the frustration that talking to Dean seemed to bring him. He locked his eyes with Dean’s again, urging him to understand him this time.
“I served my purpose. I helped you save the world. You were alive and so was your brother, you needed time to rebuild your relationship with him and I had other duties…”
“For fuck sake, Castiel! I’m not saying you were supposed to come live with us! We were dealing, okay? Better or worse, but we were, we always are. But we saved the world together, it’d be nice of you to just drop by or send a frigging message that you are alive.”
Dean was sticking to the version he had planned this conversation. Went through it hundreds of times in last four days. They were pissed at Castiel, because he let them think he was dead. He acted shitty and deserved to hear a few words about that. There was absolutely not going to be a conversation about grieving and missing Castiel, while he was flying happily with his feathery friends.
“As I meant to say to you in Colorado, before we were interrupted, I was not aware that you’d be concerned with my whereabouts as long as I have managed to help you. I realize,” he said quickly as Dean opened his mouth to call him an idiot again, “that it was foolish of me. I realize that you are far more emotion-driven than beings I’m used to fight alongside with.”
“I will take that for ‘I forgot not everyone is as much of a dick as common angel’,” Dean replied, hostile, and Castiel failed to correct his translation.
The silence fell between them as the will to fight seemed to seep out of Dean. He planned on having a shouting match with the angel, but Castiel’s silent arguments, as always, put a dump on it. Dean leaned against one of the broken cars, looking at the ground for inspiration.
“So,” he said finally, looking up at the angel, “how have you been those past four months? They’ve just let you in heaven like this?”
“Yes, quite. It seemed I chose wisely, when I disobeyed Zachariah and followed you. God spoke nothing about it, but there were changes in Heaven done in His hand. All the angels following the same plans as Zachariah lost all or most of their powers, the ones who disobeyed to protect the Earth were raised to the highest honors. Michael and Raphael serve in lowest levels of hierarchy, Zachariah was cast out completely. The others you don’t even know of were also severely punished.”
Dean nodded approvingly. As much as he hated the idea that it was all some great big test from the Lord, he didn’t mind so much the fact that there were some consequences for the angels that wanted to break the world.
“Wait, all who disobeyed? By that you mean yourself?”
“Some angels were perhaps not disobeying, but not helping Zachariah, they were slightly promoted as well. Anna was also freed and honored,” explained Castiel with a small, perhaps slightly embarrassed smile. “I… I am an archangel put in charge of ruling heaven.”
He looked down as if embarrassed by his new position, but there was still a small smile tugging at his lips and for Castiel it was as if he was vibrating with excitement at his new assignment. Dean blinked at this surprised. Clearly he was happy that the angel was not killed or even punished for helping them, but still he did not expect that much of a change in Heaven’s politics.
“Wow, you’re a big fish now. I guess that explains why you had no time for old friends,” he added bitterly.
“Dean,” chided Castiel quickly. “While I admit that new position force quite a lot of new responsibilities on me and is taking a lot of my time, it was not a reason for my lack of contact with you.”
Dean nodded silently and took another swing of his beer. He wanted to ask Cas what exactly his new position entails now, but as he looked back at the angel, he was once again looking up with a vacant expression on his face.
“Duty calls?”
Castiel sighed and looked at Dean with regret.
“I apologize…”
“Fine, fine, I get it, you’re busy. Just drop by when you have a moment, okay? Don’t wait ‘till I’m attacked and praying for friends I think are dead.”
“I will,” answered Castiel, nodding solemnly. “I have missed your company, Dean.”
“Yeah, well,” replied hunter awkwardly, but the angel was already gone.
Two days later Dean dreamed about an office. He was seating in a rich looking, leather chair and looking around he thought the walls were practically dripping the wealth and high-class douchebaggery.
“You dislike this place,” said Castiel not even bothering with questioning tone.
Dean would’ve guessed that the angel, suited up and serious as he was, would look more in place here. Yet, if it was only possible, he seemed even less at ease than Dean felt.
“You don’t seem too fond of it either. Where the fuck are we?”
“Nowhere, you’re dreaming. But this is an image of heaven,” replied Castiel and seeing Dean’s disbelief he quickly followed it with an explanation. “You’re image of heaven is wrong. It is not one place, but a place built from small planes. Like a huge book composed from short stories written by different authors. People have their own heavens, filled with their happy memories. Angels travel unseen through them.”
Dean nodded slowly.
“And this is a heaven of some douchebag?”
Castiel omitted the question in his usual way. This time though the hunter thought it meant less ‘I found your questions unworthy’ and more ‘I’d say yes, but it seems inappropriate’.
“Raphael seems to favor it… It does suit him.”
“Did you just called another angel a dickhead and if yes, why are you showing me his favorite clouds in heaven?”
“I…” Cas sighed.
He curled even more upon himself in the huge armchair and for a moment Dean wondered if it looks so strange mostly because he can’t remember ever seeing Castiel sitting down.
“I am supposed to make many decisions regarding my current status in heaven. I… I have quite a few people advising me at the moment, but…” He looked at Dean rather desperately.
“You want my advice?” asked the hunter, surprised once again.
Castiel sighed as if irritated by the fact that he can’t get his message across. He was getting better at this ‘talking to humans’ thing before they thought he had died and Dean suddenly wondered exactly how much the angel forgot while he was in heaven. How much time had passed for him.
“I wouldn’t consider asking before, but your expressed concern showed that I viewed our relationship wrongly. You have a unique way of seeing things, I would… appreciate your opinion.”
This was all getting a bit surreal, but then again, what was new? Dean shrugged and Castiel seemed to relax a bit, seeing as his request was not met with outright protests.
“Sure, whatever. God knows I’m not great with advice, but considering the parts of your family I’ve met, I still may be the best choice.”
Castiel nodded as if both agreeing that Dean may not be the perfect candidate, but still remained the best one available.
“As the ruler of heaven I’m expected to fulfill certain social expectations… Mainly I do need to choose the heaven in which I’d reside, where other angels would know to look for me. It’s important for it to be appropriate place acquainted with appropriate people and angels… As Raphael was suggested as my mate, this place became an option for my residence.”
“Your mate?”
The angel worked hard not to meet Dean’s gaze.
“That is the second important social requirement, yes. Choosing a mate gives me higher status and makes my power more stable. Strengthens it by the power of my chosen one. Raphael is… he was very powerful and although he was on Zachariah side, he had yet to follow him openly and so he didn’t lose much power. He is a great a politician and…”
“And a total dick!” interrupted finally Dean, unwilling to listen to this further.
The office itself spoke volumes about that Raphael he had yet to meet, but Cas’ careful phrasing made it even more obvious that he is speaking in most vague way possible to not say something outright offensive.
“And you don’t even like him!” Cas glared at Dean slightly. “Oh, come on, who says thedude they’re supposed to hook up with isn't so bad, ‘cause he didn’t officially follow the dickhead who wanted to end the world!”
“Dean,” chided the angel. “My liking Raphael or not has little to do with actual case.”
“Really? ‘Cause it’d seem to me that you’re the big boss now, because you’ve done what your guts told you was the right thing, pissing on the whole great political plan. And now you wanna end it by marrying some dickhead and ruling from the creepiest office possible?”
The angel sighed and looked away. Dean bit his lip thoughtfully. Cas wanted advice, not someone giving him even more expectations to fulfill. He took a deep, calming breath, trying very hardly not to think of his angel marrying some righteous, sadistic moron like Zachariah or Uriel. Perhaps this Raphael dude just had a terrible taste in furniture.
“Hey, sorry, but you wanted my advice and my advice is: stay away from this Raphael douchebag,” shrugged Dean.
With some relief he noticed that Castiel was now looking at him again, small smile tugging at his lips.
“You really don’t like him, do you?” asked hunter, smiling back.
Castiel looked down, as if ashamed by the fact that he let his personal attachment drive him in making this decision. But his mouth kept on smiling.
“He really is a douche bag,” he agreed, surprising a bark of laughter from Dean. “The first stages of mating ritual are not bonding at all… It is a rather prolonged process and it was started with pretty much everyone my advisers suggested…”
“What,” interrupted Dean, “is it like, first looking with no blinking, then hand-holding, then whatever?”
The look the angel gave him was far from being impressed.
“It’s far less… involving contact. The first stages involve inviting to the preferred heaven, flying and standing in other’s space, touching wings, sharing a meal… Well, that’s actually human translation of it. We don’t really need to eat, so it’s more like offering gifts or sacrifice. Sometimes it’s food, sometimes some element of flora…”
“So… Inviting home, invading personal space, asking for dinner and giving flowers? Do you offer each others mix tapes and send Valentine cards as well or did you leave that part only for teenage girls?”
Castiel was clearly getting used to spending his time with Dean again, because he simply ignored hunter’s mocking.
“Doesn’t it take ages?”
“Usually, yes. This time, the situation is slightly… more pressing.”
Dean nodded absentmindedly, looking once again around him.
“Cas?” he asked finally and waited with continuing until the angel hummed in response. “Don’t touch wings with Raphael, he’s creepy.”
This heaven was much more to his taste. It was still not like anything he was used to or would like to really spend millennia in, but… it was indeed far better. Something he could get used to in time.
The feeling of deep concentration filling it. The smell of books and dust. Quiet rustle of whispers, light steps and turning pages.
He stood on the upper ground of the enormous library, looking down at rows of books and small tables with strong lamps. And dozens of people moving around in quiet order. Some of them stressed or frustrated, some of them clearly at loss. Most feeling calm and relaxed as if they were right where they belong, their fingers touching the books in greeting as if they were old friends.
If only the whole world could work that peacefully, thought Castiel. Then we would all peacefully die of boredom, added a tiny voice in his head with a cynical snarl the angel most associated with Dean Winchester. He sighed quietly, there was even no point in inviting the hunter here.
“Castiel?” asked Raziel, the angel whom one could most often meet in this heaven. “I must admit I am surprised to find you here. Aren’t you supposed to visit the most powerful and high in ranks?”
“I… I’m sorry, I just… I remember I used to find peace in this heaven.”
“And you don’t anymore?”
Castiel fell silent, unsure how to answer. He did find peace here, he was sure of that. After re-visiting Raphael’s heaven this place felt almost perfect. The library was peaceful and calming, feeling like a place he could find himself in. Standing on the upper floor and observing the humans, thinking that if he looked careless enough and from far enough, he could think he saw Winchester brothers by one of the tables, doing their research.
His grace glowed with the tugging feeling of longing and Raziel smiled at him knowingly, making Castiel avert his eyes, ashamed.
“Perhaps, these days, it is a bit too much of peace for you to handle,” he suggested and Castiel smiled back at him.
Raziel, though older, was always a good friend. Unfortunately not powerful enough to convince the angels that mating with him would be a smart choice. Castiel never before considered it as a matter of fact, mainly because had no great wish to spend the eternity with Raziel as his main company and mate, still it had to be better to be with a friend than a stranger or unreliable ally.
“Castiel, I…” started Raziel, unsure and almost fidgeting, his grace slightly darkening with embarrassment. Castiel looked closer at him, unused to angels acting in such manner. “Not only I do not expect you to follow the ritual fully with me, I also strongly discourage any such motions if they appear in your head. Life as a mate of a leader is far too… exciting for me.”
They smiled at each other understandingly. Anna used to say that Raziel joined the first war just so it’d end sooner and everyone would stop interrupting his reading.
“However, with that understanding between us, I would most certainly not be angry with you if you chose to follow the ritual up to the bringing the gifts part… The situation currently is a bit unsure and I don’t have that many trusted friends left, you understand, I simply…”
Castiel’s chuckle interrupted the other angel’s nervous explanations. They smiled at each other again, their graces touching with warmth and trust, and good humor.
“I will bring you new reading material from Earth,” promised Castiel and was rewarded with his brother’s bright smile.
The chupacabra was the easy part of their hunt. The hard one was not strangling Sam. Or so Dean decided after an hour on the road with his brother. They slayed the monster late last night and after few hours of sleep, during breakfast, Dean finally filled Sam in on the dream-conversation with Castiel. Sam found it way too hilarious for Dean’s liking.
“Wait, so is marking with handprint, zapping around, rebelling for and constantly invading personal space, angel’s way of hitting the second or third base? ‘Cause I’m not sure,” asked Sam as they drove down an empty highway and Dean really wanted to smack him.
“I am not sure what the definitions behind second and third bases are,” replied Castiel suddenly appearing in the backseat and Sam almost jumped out of his skin.
Good, thought Dean. ‘Don’t mock angels, they can hear you’ was an important lesson to learn.
“Cas,” said Sam festively, clearly fighting to find something to say that had nothing to do with mating rituals or baseball. “You decided to drop by without a prayer?”
“Yes,” replied the angel, looking outside the window. “You asked me to be in touch and I had something to do on Earth.”
“Is it angelic for ‘I was in the neighborhood so I thought I’d drop by’?” asked Dean, unable to help himself.
Seriously, when their lives become so weird that their friends came by when they ‘had something to do on Earth’. He felt like he’d befriend an E.T. he found in his closet or something.
“Yes,” replied Castiel simply. “I also am rather avoiding going back to heaven as long as I can without it becoming noticed.”
“Mate looking not going well?” asked Sam and Dean was truly amazed at how quickly he can drop the mocking to sound friendly concerned. It was like an emo superpower or something.
Castiel sighed in frustration, clearly giving away that Sam rather hit the point with his question.
“Did you tell that dick Raphael to piss off?” asked Dean quickly and Sam shot him a short-lived glare.
“Not at first, but the sacrifice stage of the ritual rather supported all your worries.”
Sam glanced unsure at Dean, who could only roll his eyes. He knew that particular puppy look since forever. Sam practiced it since he started talking in full sentences or rather, since Dean and Dad started trying to shut him up at least from time to time, so he could breathe or eat. To be honest those two stages in his life occurred about the same time, so it was hard to tell which one caused Sam’s ‘Can I ask a question? Can I? Can I?’ puppy look.
Dean just shrugged, figuring if Sam became too much Cas had powers to stop him. He could only hope the angel would rather go for ‘disappearing to avoid questioning’ or ‘making Sam sleep to shut him up’ and not straight for ‘smite’.
“And this sacrifice step is…?”
“Well, the ritual has lots of steps,” replied Castiel eagerly, almost as if he was starting a lecture and Dean briefly wondered if he was supposed to ask about those details, when he learned there was a ritual at all. Quickly he decided that if Cas wanted to talk technical details with someone, he always knew where to find Sammy. “Participants have to fulfill them till their graces merge.”
Perhaps though some details were worth learning.
“Is grace merging angel talk for sex?” asked Dean and Sam looked at him as if he was ashamed they were related.
“Close enough,” replied the angel after a moment of thought and Dean smiled smugly at his brother.
Eye-roll was his only response.
“The sacrifice is one of the steps usually made,” continued Castiel, ignoring the exchange between the brothers. “It grew from the old rituals of sacrificing as part of religion. The problem or rather the importance lays in the nature of sacrifice. Some have trees growing in their names and offer them to the mates. Or flowers cut from humans’ fields with angelic thought. Sometimes it is a fruit or a meal… Well, really anything can be offered.”
“If it’s so open for interpretation, it tells rather a lot about the angel, doesn’t it? Seeing what he considers appropriate offering… That’s why it is so important?”
Castiel nodded, clearly pleased that Sam’s following his explanation. Dean showed how supportive he was, withholding a comment about geekery taking over his car.
“Precisely.”
“And Raphael gave you a really, really sucky gift?” asked Dean knowingly.
“It was very powerful, but…” Castiel sighed. “Rachel didn’t seem to find anything wrong with it, perhaps…”
Dean looked at his brother, quietly debating how they should respond. Sam shrugged, mouthing ‘your angel’ and not being helpful at all. If Dean wasn’t driving he’d kick the little bastard.
“Hey,” he said to the angel instead, “I don’t know this Rachel chick, but I was not a fan of Raphael, I highly doubt I’d like his gift, powerful or not.”
Castiel nodded and seemed to gather his words for a minute, before he finally spoke, his gaze focused on the changing landscape behind the window.
“There was a soldier, fighting in the war. His name was Raphael and his mother told him to pray to his angel. And so he died in a fight with Raphael’s name on his lips. His death was my gift.”
The silence fell in the Impala. Sam mouthed ‘wow’, but let out no sound, clearly checking himself out of responding to the angel.
Dean’s hands were tight on the steering wheel. He met Castiel’s gaze in the rearview mirror, his eyes serious.
“Cas, do you trust me?” Angel frowned, nodding before he even had a chance to be surprised. “Do you trust me enough to, when I say it’s really important, life or death, Armageddon important, to do what I ask of you?”
Castiel blinked back at him, clearly confused and not understanding the sudden shift in the conversation. Still, he nodded without a word. Dean tried not to let his breath catch at that.
“Then, and it is highly important Cas, I ask you to stay away from this dickhead, okay?”
The angel’s eyes were wide, before he looked down and Dean could see a relieved smile painting on his surprised features.
“I promise.”
“Seriously? What is this? Lion King?”
Dean stood on a high rock, facing the savanna and watching the animals walking beneath. His eyes were huge and full of disbelief, even if freed from the distrust that shadowed them while Raphael’s office. Castiel sighed, he somehow already knew that while this space would please Dean more, it wouldn't be met with full approval.
Approving of another angel’s heaven choice was really to approve of an angel itself. And Dean was rather known for dismissing them all as a bunch of manipulative hypocrites. (Though he’d probably use much cruder words.)
“Another one of your potential mates?” Dean asked, turning back to Castiel, who just nodded in response. “Well, better than Raphael, I guess.”
“Yes, that’s what I thought.”
“But seriously? You wanna rule heaven from some African rock? Doesn’t much… seem like you.”
Castiel sighed.
“The heaven angel chooses says rather a lot about them.”
“So,” said Dean raising his eyebrows and glancing around. “This one is childish show-off?”
The angel bit his lips to not let his smile blossom fully. This was far from appropriate behavior. And yet as he thought of Balthazar stealing Uriel’s armor and then mockingly helping him to search for it through all heavens… he could only nod to Dean’s assessment.
“And I’m guessing he’s also very big fish in heaven’s sea?”
“He was close to my power before, now he got slightly promoted.” Castiel sighed, frustrated. “He is weaker than Raphael, but… Well, I actually consider him a friend.”
“Oh,” said Dean slowly and once again looked around as if more carefully. “So this one you’d actually like to mate with?”
“No,” replied Castiel quickly and chastised himself for it. “I mean, no, I would not have consider it before I was forced to chose at all. He simply is a friend, I think it could be easier to learn to live with him.”
Dean nodded slowly before walking further away to sit down, leaning against the rock and facing the warm, pleasant sun. Castiel watched the sunrays lightening the hunter’s face, thinking he too often saw him in the shadows and darkness.
The human must have sensed the angel’s intense gaze, because he opened his eyes and squinted comically at Castiel, nodding to the spot next to him. He waited until the angel sat down, close enough so their arms touched, before he spoke again:
“Is this power really that important? Can’t you just hook up with someone you like?”
“I don’t really…” started Castiel, but quickly stopped himself, deciding to concentrate on the first question instead. “The more power my mate has, the more mine is raised.”
The hunter frowned.
“But aren’t you all juiced up, one of the big guys now?”
“I am the strongest after God, yes.”
Dean nodded slowly, clearly surprised by that news, but not willing to be put off track.
“Wait, so what? You want even more? What more there is? You want to have God’s powers now? Wow, way to show over-ambitious.”
The angel frowned in confusion, but Dean’s criticism only awoke the annoyance in him again. So many times he faced Dean, trying to explain to him, while the hunter refused to listen. Watched everything from his small, human perceptive and expected to always be right and have a ground to judge everyone else. He knew nothing of heaven and little of angels and yet not only had Castiel asked him for advice, but Dean expected his guidance to be the only correct one.
“Look, Cas…” started Dean, clearly noticing angel’s anger, but Castiel did not let him finish, awakening him with a thought.
Dean woke up with a start, gasping for air. He sat up on Bobby’s floor, angrily tossing the sleeping bag away and running a hand over his face, trying to ease himself into being awake. It was by far not the most pleasant awaking he ever experienced, he made a mental note to not piss the nerdy angels when they visited in his head.
Finally he noted that the light by the desk was still on and he looked that way, meeting Bobby’s concerned gaze.
“What’s with you, Bobby? Parents let you watch late TV and now you’re scared to fall asleep?”
“Shut it, idjit,” growled the older hunter. “We were actually working on a job, while you enjoyed your wet dreams with an angel.”
The figure slumped over the table suggested Sam also rather checked out on the research part. Dean kicked his chair as he walked to the desk, but the kid didn’t even stir. Years of living with Dean trained him well: wake up if the monster sneaks in, sleep through Dean singing in the shower.
“Yeah, I see Sleeping Beauty is a great help here.”
“He’s working well as a paper weight, what’s your excuse?” answered Bobby quickly, grumbling as always and yet making a place by the desk for Dean and moving a glass of whisky in his direction.
“I became a wedding consultant for an angel, it’s a stressful job.”
“Yeah,” said Bobby slowly, watching Dean carefully.
“What? You’re jealous or something? I can plan your wedding to, you big girl, as soon as you find the right man for ya.”
Bobby just shook his head at him, clearly showing exactly what he thought of Dean's sense of humor and how even hyenas wouldn’t find it funny.
“Just watch out for yourself kid, okay?”
Dean stared at him disbelieving. Last week they called Bobby from a hunt, because they were outnumbered and outwitted by the convent of witches and while telling them what they could try, he also suggested sucking it up and dealing. Now he seemed jittered by an angel wedding.
“Watch out for what?” asked Dean incredulously. “To make sure he won’t make me his bridesmaid? It’s Cas, Bobby!”
“Yes, because relationships with supernatural things always ended great before,” mused the older hunter, his eyes landing on Sam’s sleeping form.
With his hands clenched, Dean fought to keep his voice leveled.
“First of all, this is different, very much different, like Britney Spears and AC/DC different! Second of all, it’s not a relationship!”
Bobby raised his eyebrows before reaching into one of the drawers in his desk to grab a thin, blue book that looked vaguely new. He handed it to Dean, who opened it to find it scribbled with Bobby’s handwriting.
“Your diary?”
“It’s a more or less adequate translation of a very old book in Enochian I found on angels’ rituals back when we were researching the whole band.”
Dean blinked.
“You know Enochian?”
“I do now,” snapped Bobby, annoyed with Dean’s lack of focus on the important part. “Seemed like a useful skill during Apocalypse. Now go away and read why you’re practically engaged to an angel and let me work.”
Dean rolled his eyes, but obediently left Bobby alone, choosing instead to go read in the kitchen. He had a feeling he may need a beer or five to get through this.
“Castiel, what are you doing here?” Rachel asked, her voice tense.
Her grace trembled with anger and displeasure. She was always such mix of emotions. Devotion and faith in God as their Father and Castiel as their leader. Frustration with unclearness of God’s orders, irritation with Castiel’s unwillingness to follow the protocol. She would be a good choice of a mate, less in the name of power exchange, more as guidance through protocols and politics.
Her heaven consisted of King Solomon’s visitation chamber. She enjoyed watching the smart order he brought to his kingdom, it calmed her down. The sight of a wise leader ruling in the name of God.
Castiel found it reassuring as well, but could never spend more time there. Couldn’t even fathom the idea of ruling anyone from there. It’d feel like sharing an office with a long dead king.
He escaped that place, choosing next heaven on a whim, but having sensed his destination, Rachel followed him.
“Castiel!” she chided again and he wondered if he could really deal with it for the eternity no matter how useful it was.
She remained hidden as he showed himself to the occupants of this heaven. He was glad to see them together, it seemed impossible that they should meet as they had so few honest and happy memories together. And yet it seemed impossible they’d be apart even now.
He found them in a memory they didn’t share in reality, but which he brought to her. They both sat on the park bench, while Sam played soccer ball with a team of friends. Fourteen-year-old Dean was wandering around, aiming at casual and not interested, while getting closer and closer to the group of older girls who giggled, talking to each other and barely glancing at the match.
Castiel stood by the bench, next to Mary who smiled up at him. John’s look was much more guarded, but it was only to be expected. He looked so much like Dean, when he acted protective.
“Hello, Mary, John. My name is Castiel, I am an angel of the Lord.”
If anything John’s guarded expression became even more so, but Mary’s smile did not fall.
“Hello, Castiel,” she said calmly. “Is there something you needed from us?”
“I… I know your sons. They helped save the world recently.”
One of the things about heaven which later made so much harder talking to living people was how rarely shocked they were. And even less often they showed any signs of disbelief.
The Winchesters seemed barely slightly surprised by the news and they looked at their boys with pride shining in their eyes. Of course their sons saved the world, why on Earth wouldn’t they?
“Dean… He asked me to rebel against my orders and help him. I have listened and helped stop the Apocalypse for which I was rewarded by my Father and made the leader of heaven.”
“Oh, that is splendid, Castiel!” exclaimed Mary, now involving him in her pride as well. He was unable not to smile back.
“It is indeed, thank you. However one of the duties I am currently burdened with is to choose a mate to rule with me for the eternity… It is a planned and thoughtful decision and I started the ritual with a few candidates. One of the steps of it is asking for a blessing from the creator of the other participant and I prayed to my Father for the blessing in rituals with my brothers.”
Mary nodded at him encouragingly, while John looked weary and half ready for a fight.
“Now I have come to ask your blessing for the ritual with your son, Dean.”
“You’re asking for our son among a bunch of other ‘candidates’?” growled John, unfriendly, and asked next questions before Castiel had a chance to respond. “Does Dean even know he’s your one of many possibilities? And how high are his chances if you’re aiming at a planned decision? I’ve talked to some angels since I got here, Castiel, I doubt marrying a human will bring you many followers.”
Castiel stared at the man, trying to find the words to respond, but unable to, since John had not accused him of anything he could deny.
“I don’t think his chances are that bad,” said Marry calmly, saving the angel from oppression. She stood up and walked to Castiel, putting her hands on his shoulders. “You are the ruler of heaven and have plenty of mighty candidates to be your mates, I’m sure of it, just as I’m sure that taking my son as a mate will bring chaos and confusion to your comfortable world and it’s the least reasonable thing to do.”
John snorted and Castiel looked away from Mary’s eyes. He shouldn’t even be here, both Mary and Rachel were right. Dean’s mother clenched his arms slightly until he looked back at her, surprised to find her smile warmer than ever before and her eyes wet.
“I am also sure that if you hadn’t love him enough to drop the reason you wouldn’t even bother coming in here.”
She kissed his forehead in a blessing, at the same time pushing him slightly out of their heaven. Rachel waited for him, he could sense it, so he changed his direction and landed in heaven no one visited in ages to think in peace.
This part of heaven belonged to Jonah, who didn’t have many memories to visit. Not only because his life was not the happiest one, but because one of the memories put a rather high bar for all the others. When Jonah was sixteen he left his heard of sheep and followed a star to Bethlehem.
Castiel sat quietly on a stone outside the barn, surrounded by happiness in every creation near him. Songs spilled through the mouths of every living creature witnessing the miracle. It made him feel safe and secure now more than awed and excited like the very first time he saw it, when he was still a fledging and in a small group of his brothers, taken by Gabriel to see the memory of the happiest miracle. It was the last place the archangel was ever seen and the mix of grief caused by this and joy brought by the sight of a miracle kept the angels away ever since.
It took Rachel awhile to find him.
“Castiel, what are you even considering, it isn’t wise.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about, sister,” he replied smoothly. “I consider plenty of candidates, like you suggested and…”
“And one of them is human!”
Castiel met her gaze angrily, his eyes hard and steady.
“And one of them is human,” he replied tersely. “And the choice is mine. Our Father trusts me to lead all of us, but you can’t trust me to chose my own mate?”
“I’d trust you if you’d chose logically. You seem to understand the importance of it and yet you’re strayed by your feelings, Castiel.” She said quickly, begging him to understand. “You know that choosing this way is not wise. It was the beginning of an end for Lucifer to chose Michael like this, I do not wish you to follow into his steps.”
The angry reply died on Castiel’s tongue as he heard another voice calling him.
Hey, Cas, it is not life or death kind of thing, but if by any chance you’re done sulking and wouldn’t mind dropping by, it’d be great and…
Castiel flew to Dean before the man finished his sentence.
The sky outside was gray and dark even though it was still early. The cold, insistent rain seeped in small droplets since morning. Dean sat by the table in yet another motel room, electric light keeping the grayness out.
Castiel appeared next to him before he managed to finish his prayer.
“Wow,” breathed the hunter, surprised. “Eager, aren’t you? And here I wondered if it’d work at all.”
The angel looked away briefly.
“Perhaps my reaction was a bit too harsh, considering the situation.”
Dean nodded in response.
“Apologize accepted,” he offered and smirked as Cas glared at him. “Listen… Okay, this may sound stupid, but… Well, Bobby gave me this book on angels’ rituals.”
He nodded at the tome lying on the table and Castiel quickly snatched it in his hands, looking through the pages, reading the contents with unearthly speed. He frowned at the text and Dean continued cautiously:
“And well, you know, Sam was earlier kind of joking you have plenty of points of the ritual completed with me and well according to this… Well, it may sound stupid but we seem to have at least five steps down.”
“Eight,” corrected Castiel quickly and Dean gulped. The minimum for closing the ritual was six. “This translation is not without a mistake and neither was the original book.”
“Okay,” said Dean slowly, slightly at loss. “I guess they were kind of necessary, right? Not planned as part of the ritual and all that.”
Their eyes met again and Dean was suddenly painfully aware of how intimate it felt. Almost as if they were touching or connecting their minds together. Not really invading, just… connecting. It sounded chick-flick like enough that Dean was sure it had to be one of the points he missed.
Castiel broke the look first. He put the book back on the table and stared out of the window at the unpleasant, gloomy afternoon.
“The ritual does not act like that. Often it is that participants follow certain steps accidentally, but to complete the ritual they have to be both aware of their actions and what they mean. The intention has to be there, Dean, we couldn’t be simply tricked into becoming mates.”
Dean nodded hurriedly, trying to look relieved. Mumbling something about a weight being taken of his shoulders and purposefully not glancing at the bags next to the table.
Castiel caught his eyes, frowning, and really, years of hunting should have taught Dean some acting skills. The angel looked away for a second, unsure. He licked his lips, looking nervous and Dean’s babbling died on his lips mid sentence.
“If, however, we were to continue the ritual, we’d have to act on some steps on purpose. Showing the intent behind our actions,” said the angel slowly, carefully forming and weighing every word like when he tried to show Dean the loophole in angels’ plans.
“If,” he repeated, “we were to fulfill the ritual, my visit to your parents’ heaven to ask for their blessing on it, would be counted as my act of intent…”
“But the ritual,” continued Dean, trying to wrap his mind about the fact that Castiel just went to his parents to ask for permission to marry him and whether it made him a chick in this relationship or just the dude with more easily approachable blood relatives. “It needs consent and act of intent from both of us to be set on track. So if I’d just ignore it…”
“No kind of binding would be put on you,” assured Castiel and perhaps it was wishful thinking on Dean part, but he did seem rather put out by this prospect.
The hunter nodded slowly, once again glancing at the bags and weighing his options. Just because Castiel was here and apparently continuing the steps of the ritual, it didn’t mean he stopped the rituals with others or that he even seriously considered picking Dean. Perhaps it was all just an act of rebellion against his advisers, showing them that while he can make logical and sensible choice, he can also do something completely opposite. Perhaps it was all just politics.
On the other hand, thought Dean glancing at the angel standing awkwardly in his motel room and shooting him unsure looks with his huge eyes, perhaps it was not.
Dean grabbed the bag and offered it to Castiel, standing nearer him. The angel blinked at him, before slowly extending his hand to take the gift. His nostrils flared as he sensed the aroma coming from the offering and Dean smiled proudly.
Tasting heavenly, smelling like happiness and not creepy at all. What more was there to look for in the offering?
“Here, Cas, I bought you the most delicious pie I could find as an offering.”
The angel took the bag and held it by his side, far more concentrated on Dean. He stepped even closer and Dean was sure he thought him enough about personal space that the angel was invading it on purpose. His blue eyes were jumping from Dean’s own to his mouth and the hunter decided that while clearly a vital stage in the ritual, there was already far enough of staring going on here.
He put a hand on Castiel’s neck and brought him close enough to kiss. Their mouths met briefly and chastely for the first time, before falling back together in much more heated performance. Castiel’s free hand sneaked under Dean’s shirt, sliding over his t-shirt, as Dean tipped the angel’s head back to kiss him deeper. Their tongues slide against each other, when a fake cough interrupted them.
“I said: sorry, didn’t meant to interrupt,” said Sam smugly, standing in the open door and Dean could only glare at him.
He probably would tell Sam exactly what he thought of his interrupting and perhaps throw a thing or two at him, but between one blink and another he was standing in a park. Sun shining brightly and grass green and neatly cut. Dean glanced at the smiling angel who simply moved to kiss him again.
Castiel let out a light growl as Dean interrupted the kiss after a moment and moved away a step, looking around the heaven they were in. The angel tried to concentrate enough to be able to predict Winchester’s verdict, but the sight of his neck nearly next to the angel’s mouth was highly distracting.
“Another heaven?” asked Dean and Castiel sighed, forcing his eyes away from the point where Dean’s neck scratched out into his jaw. He was suddenly curious how would it feel to kiss the shadow of stubble covering it.
“Yes,” he replied simply. “I was told it’s not dignified enough to rule from.”
Dean snorted.
“It is sure better than the others you showed me,” he said and finally won the battle for Castiel’s attention.
“Do you like it?”
The hunter shrugged.
“Well, if it will mean liking another one of your candidates then fuck no, but… It is way better, you know? And pretty cool to rule from. At least you don’t seem as if you’re overcompensating for anything. Just a nice day at a park. You’d always seem as if you were cool and peaceful even if you were freaking out completely. That’s good for a leader, I guess.”
Castiel simply stared at the human before him, smile forming on his lips. His fingers moved against Dean’s neck in affectionate gesture and the hunter finally look at him.
“To accept a heaven chosen by an angel is to accept the angel himself,” said Castiel and with amusement noticed Dean’s quick look around as if he searched to find something he could disapprove of in this angel he thought to be Castiel’s candidate for a mate. “This heaven I chose myself.”
Quiet ‘oh’ formed on Dean’s lips and he once again concentrated fully on his companion. One of his hands still on Castiel’s neck, now slid in its grip, the fingers brushing Castiel’s hair. The other palm slid up Castiel’s back under the coat, making him shiver and bringing him closer. He carefully let the bag with pie fall down as his own hands found their way on Dean’s body: his back and his arm, where he could sense his mark.
“That would be tenth step, I think,” said Dean, slowly moving his mouth closer to Castiel’s. “You think that’s enough to get to the ‘grace merging’?”
“Definitely,” replied the angel, his voice hoarse and he tugged Dean into another kiss.
As their bodies slide against each other, laying on the grass, Dean whispered to Castiel that having sex in heaven was more like dreaming about sex: all pleasure and no physics. Castiel thought it was still far more material than what would happen between two angels, but felt absolutely no need to ever find out for himself. If anything he only wished to try having sex with Dean on Earth, in one of their small, motel rooms or in the Impala backseat. Really, as far as he was concerned, they could do it anywhere and he told Dean as much. The hunter chuckled, his smile brushing against the skin of Castiel’s neck.
They moved together, pressing against each other and the only thing Castiel could think of was to get even closer. His mouth kissing every bit of skin he could reach, his hands sliding up and down Dean’s body, slicked by the sweat and wanting to touch every bit of the human above him. His wings curled around Dean’s form holding him closer and closer still.
Dean moaned as the feathers touched him and his wide eyes met Castiel’s. They stared at each other, astonished and reverent, before they kissed again moving even more rapidly. Seeking friction against the body of the other and pressing into the pleasure.
Castiel’s wings tightened around Dean as he came and held the human long after his own climax. Keeping him close, surrounded by Castiel’s presence.
“Will God be very mad that you didn’t hook up with a high class angel?” slurred Dean after a while, his lips still pressed against Castiel’s skin, trading lazy kisses from time to time.
“I hope not,” mumbled the angel in response without any deep concern about the matter, it was hard enough to tell what God meant when He actually did or said something. Guessing beforehand was way beyond Castiel’s abilities.
Dean chuckled, clearly amused by this response and Castiel joined in quickly, finding it hard to not smile back at him.
Their clothes reappeared just before Rachel showed herself and so she delivered her congratulations with a tight smile as they lay on the grass sharing cherry pie and smiles.
“She’d be terribly nagging wife,” declared Dean as Rachel left them alone again and Castiel could only smile, glad that he will never find out.
~the end~
Title: For Love is Immortality
Author: andrea_deer
Recipient: agardenafter
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 9284
Warnings: swearing in high doses, very vague sex scene, mating rituals, arranged marriages.
Spoilers: This universe goes AU during the final of season four, but it uses some small details revealed later on.
Summary: Castiel rebelled and helped Dean stop Sam from starting the Apocalypse. Four months later the Winchesters learn that their favorite angel not only is not dead, but actually rules Heaven.
Author notes: I was aiming at third and very vague prompt for a story in which one character takes the other as a partner, but in the eyes of pretty much everyone else it is not a good choice. I hope I managed to pull it off. :)
The only light in the motel room was coming now from the huge, blue neon-sign advertising va_ancy and from slowly setting full moon. Sam slept unevenly on the small bed further away from the door and Dean was half-heartedly cleaning their weapons and packing them away so they’d be able to leave in the morning. From time to time he’d sat back to take a swing of his beer and watch his brother for a moment as he whimpered painfully in his sleep.
The demon blood was now mostly gone, after few painful weeks in Bobby’s panic room, but it left the addiction behind. Sam was weakened and pale, trembling from the power he used to contain. He needed to gain his strength back sleeping and eating and keeping safe, but Dean knew his mind was going stir-crazy by now. Simple werewolf hunt seemed just perfect for a start. One day of research, few hours of a hunt and the job was done.
The fact that even after that, Sam practically collapsed on the bed, tired and shaking was a sure sign that for a while they will have to stick with these kinds of hunts only. Leaving the loose-running demons and tempted-with-promises-of-Apocalypse ancient monsters to other hunters.
Dean tried to not hear whenever one of them got ripped to pieces. He and Sam have done enough for a while. Saving the world from demons and bunch of angels who wanted to jump start Judgment Day gave them right to take a sick day or two.
The window behind him shattered as the beast jumped through it, tackling Dean to the floor. He barely noticed as Sam sat up, alarmed, and, almost before awaking completely, started shooting at the hairy monster attacking Dean. The impact of the bullets made the werewolf weaver slightly, but did not stop it. Dean cursed: regular bullets.
He fought desperately. After facing the angels and stopping the Lucifer from rising, he was determined to not end as a chew toy of a common werewolf! His mind in panic settled on a blasphemous mix of prayers and curses.
You dicks from heaven! Don’t let this fucker eat me, come on! You fucking… God… Cas… oh, fuck, help!
The bright light filled the room, blinding Dean as the beast from above him disappeared. As he blinked, two fingers touched his forehead and the blood from his torso has disappeared along with the wounds it seeped from. Slowly the lightness softened and disappeared, making Dean able to recognize the figure standing before him in an easily recognizable trenchcoat.
“Son of a bitch!” gasped the older Winchester looking up at the angel.
“Hello, Dean.”
“Cas?” asked Sam in surprise. More to fill the awkward silence than to actually make sure of the angel’s identity.
The tension in the room hadn’t yet reached the dangerous to life levels, but it was probably only thanks to the fact that Dean seemed pretty much shell-shocked. He heaved himself up, but then just stood before the angel, staring at him with wide eyes. Shocked.
Shock was good, thought Sam. Shock stopped Dean from being pissed and trying to strangle an extraterrestrial being with his bare hands.
“Sam,” replied Castiel gravely, looking at him with a smile that was not awkward because of the feelings behind it, but more because of how unused the muscles needed for it were. The grimace quickly fell, though and the angel frowned at the younger Winchester. “You’re in pain.”
Sam blinked and tried catching his brother’s gaze to judge if perhaps he followed this conversation better, but Dean had yet to let his gaze leave the angel.
“Uh… Yeah, you know, demon blood detox does that to you.”
Castiel made a step towards him, raising his hand and Sam tried to stop himself from flinching. Two fingertips touched his forehead and the crawling he felt under his skin for past few months disappeared. He only noticed that his left hand, which was now curled around the gun, was trembling when it stopped. Completely at ease, the strain in his muscles seeped out along with the pain.
“Wow,” he breathed in awe. His body was so relaxed and painless now he only wanted to crawl back under the covers and have a first pain-free sleep in ages. “Thanks.”
Castiel was still frowning.
“You should have called me sooner.”
And that made Sam alert again, because it was probably absolutely the worst thing the angel could have said. Sam looked at Dean, noticing with no surprise that Dean’s shock was quickly erased by fury. Nothing pissed Dean off more than hurting and worrying for people, being made vulnerable. Sam knew that as sure as the fact that worried Dean will always do everything in his power to save the ones he cares about. And then rip them a new one for scaring him in a first place.
Dean was never good with grieving and worrying, he locked it all inside and let it eat him alive. The more he hurt, the less he talked about it. And since they left Chuck’s place, the day after they’ve stopped the Apocalypse, he hadn’t even mentioned Castiel’s name.
“We should have called you sooner?” he almost hissed. “We thought you were dead, you son of a bitch! Seriously, what the hell Cas? You couldn’t have dropped by earlier?!”
Cas looked at him in confusion and if not for the fact that he knew it’d probably end badly, Sam would have hit him himself. Ridiculous as it could be, he wouldn’t mind having at least the weight of guilt that the angel had died to save the world from Sam’s mistakes lifted from his shoulders.
“I was not aware you needed my assistance.”
“Fuck assistance, Cas!” yelled Dean almost before the angel was able to finish. “Over four months ago we saw Chuck’s kitchen decorated with your insides and you haven’t find the time to drop by and say you’re okay?!”
The angel tilted his head, which seemed his version of blinking in confusion.
“You… You were concerned about me.”
Dean cursed, looking away from Castiel and running a hand through his hair in a failed attempt to calm himself.
“No, we were just peachy thinking that one of our friends is a ten thousand piece puzzle.”
“I was-” started Cas, but interrupted and stared at the ceiling as if listening to something.
Sam glanced at his brother again, but Dean still failed to meet his eyes. Sam added to the list of his regrets not having the “you hurt my brother and I will end you” conversation with Cas earlier. Demon blood really stopped him from doing many important things.
“Cas?” called Dean, weaving his hand and angel’s gaze focused on him again.
“I apologize, my brothers are calling me. I left in the middle of an important meeting when I’ve heard your prayer.”
“So, what? Now you’re gonna just… disappear again,” finished weakly Dean to the empty space, where the angel was standing. “Next time, I’m kicking his ass.”
He finally looked at his brother and Sam nodded in agreement.
“I would help, but it seems ungrateful now that nothing hurts me.”
“Think that you could have the delights of angel detox months ago,” advised Dean.
Sam fell silent worrying that if they keep at talking they may start planning angel-cide before the dawn. He fell asleep to the sounds of Dean pacing between the door and one of the walls of their small, tacky room.
They were at Bobby’s, four days later, when Dean prayed for Castiel again. He left Sam and Bobby researching Chupacabras to their hearts' content and went out into the salvage yard, walking between the cars with one hand in pocket, the other holding the beer bottle loosely. The picture of fake nonchalance. He looked up at bright sky of early autumn afternoon.
“Dear Castiel, if you can hear this and it wouldn’t be too much of a bother for your busy social schedule, it’d be really super if you could get your feathery ass down here.” He took a sip of his beer. “PS: I may want to smack your stupid face. Amen.”
“Dean,” chased the angel, clearly not much impressed with Dean’s warning.
The hunter turned around to look at the familiar figure.
“What is with you showing up behind me? You were born to creep or do you use the occasion to stare at my ass?”
Cas only frowned in the answer, clearly dismissing the question.
“You have called me.”
“Yes, well, you know, I thought if I will leave it to you to come back in touch I may wait till judgment day. You know, another one.”
Cas sighed and looked away for a moment as if tired of the conversation or at least the frustration that talking to Dean seemed to bring him. He locked his eyes with Dean’s again, urging him to understand him this time.
“I served my purpose. I helped you save the world. You were alive and so was your brother, you needed time to rebuild your relationship with him and I had other duties…”
“For fuck sake, Castiel! I’m not saying you were supposed to come live with us! We were dealing, okay? Better or worse, but we were, we always are. But we saved the world together, it’d be nice of you to just drop by or send a frigging message that you are alive.”
Dean was sticking to the version he had planned this conversation. Went through it hundreds of times in last four days. They were pissed at Castiel, because he let them think he was dead. He acted shitty and deserved to hear a few words about that. There was absolutely not going to be a conversation about grieving and missing Castiel, while he was flying happily with his feathery friends.
“As I meant to say to you in Colorado, before we were interrupted, I was not aware that you’d be concerned with my whereabouts as long as I have managed to help you. I realize,” he said quickly as Dean opened his mouth to call him an idiot again, “that it was foolish of me. I realize that you are far more emotion-driven than beings I’m used to fight alongside with.”
“I will take that for ‘I forgot not everyone is as much of a dick as common angel’,” Dean replied, hostile, and Castiel failed to correct his translation.
The silence fell between them as the will to fight seemed to seep out of Dean. He planned on having a shouting match with the angel, but Castiel’s silent arguments, as always, put a dump on it. Dean leaned against one of the broken cars, looking at the ground for inspiration.
“So,” he said finally, looking up at the angel, “how have you been those past four months? They’ve just let you in heaven like this?”
“Yes, quite. It seemed I chose wisely, when I disobeyed Zachariah and followed you. God spoke nothing about it, but there were changes in Heaven done in His hand. All the angels following the same plans as Zachariah lost all or most of their powers, the ones who disobeyed to protect the Earth were raised to the highest honors. Michael and Raphael serve in lowest levels of hierarchy, Zachariah was cast out completely. The others you don’t even know of were also severely punished.”
Dean nodded approvingly. As much as he hated the idea that it was all some great big test from the Lord, he didn’t mind so much the fact that there were some consequences for the angels that wanted to break the world.
“Wait, all who disobeyed? By that you mean yourself?”
“Some angels were perhaps not disobeying, but not helping Zachariah, they were slightly promoted as well. Anna was also freed and honored,” explained Castiel with a small, perhaps slightly embarrassed smile. “I… I am an archangel put in charge of ruling heaven.”
He looked down as if embarrassed by his new position, but there was still a small smile tugging at his lips and for Castiel it was as if he was vibrating with excitement at his new assignment. Dean blinked at this surprised. Clearly he was happy that the angel was not killed or even punished for helping them, but still he did not expect that much of a change in Heaven’s politics.
“Wow, you’re a big fish now. I guess that explains why you had no time for old friends,” he added bitterly.
“Dean,” chided Castiel quickly. “While I admit that new position force quite a lot of new responsibilities on me and is taking a lot of my time, it was not a reason for my lack of contact with you.”
Dean nodded silently and took another swing of his beer. He wanted to ask Cas what exactly his new position entails now, but as he looked back at the angel, he was once again looking up with a vacant expression on his face.
“Duty calls?”
Castiel sighed and looked at Dean with regret.
“I apologize…”
“Fine, fine, I get it, you’re busy. Just drop by when you have a moment, okay? Don’t wait ‘till I’m attacked and praying for friends I think are dead.”
“I will,” answered Castiel, nodding solemnly. “I have missed your company, Dean.”
“Yeah, well,” replied hunter awkwardly, but the angel was already gone.
Two days later Dean dreamed about an office. He was seating in a rich looking, leather chair and looking around he thought the walls were practically dripping the wealth and high-class douchebaggery.
“You dislike this place,” said Castiel not even bothering with questioning tone.
Dean would’ve guessed that the angel, suited up and serious as he was, would look more in place here. Yet, if it was only possible, he seemed even less at ease than Dean felt.
“You don’t seem too fond of it either. Where the fuck are we?”
“Nowhere, you’re dreaming. But this is an image of heaven,” replied Castiel and seeing Dean’s disbelief he quickly followed it with an explanation. “You’re image of heaven is wrong. It is not one place, but a place built from small planes. Like a huge book composed from short stories written by different authors. People have their own heavens, filled with their happy memories. Angels travel unseen through them.”
Dean nodded slowly.
“And this is a heaven of some douchebag?”
Castiel omitted the question in his usual way. This time though the hunter thought it meant less ‘I found your questions unworthy’ and more ‘I’d say yes, but it seems inappropriate’.
“Raphael seems to favor it… It does suit him.”
“Did you just called another angel a dickhead and if yes, why are you showing me his favorite clouds in heaven?”
“I…” Cas sighed.
He curled even more upon himself in the huge armchair and for a moment Dean wondered if it looks so strange mostly because he can’t remember ever seeing Castiel sitting down.
“I am supposed to make many decisions regarding my current status in heaven. I… I have quite a few people advising me at the moment, but…” He looked at Dean rather desperately.
“You want my advice?” asked the hunter, surprised once again.
Castiel sighed as if irritated by the fact that he can’t get his message across. He was getting better at this ‘talking to humans’ thing before they thought he had died and Dean suddenly wondered exactly how much the angel forgot while he was in heaven. How much time had passed for him.
“I wouldn’t consider asking before, but your expressed concern showed that I viewed our relationship wrongly. You have a unique way of seeing things, I would… appreciate your opinion.”
This was all getting a bit surreal, but then again, what was new? Dean shrugged and Castiel seemed to relax a bit, seeing as his request was not met with outright protests.
“Sure, whatever. God knows I’m not great with advice, but considering the parts of your family I’ve met, I still may be the best choice.”
Castiel nodded as if both agreeing that Dean may not be the perfect candidate, but still remained the best one available.
“As the ruler of heaven I’m expected to fulfill certain social expectations… Mainly I do need to choose the heaven in which I’d reside, where other angels would know to look for me. It’s important for it to be appropriate place acquainted with appropriate people and angels… As Raphael was suggested as my mate, this place became an option for my residence.”
“Your mate?”
The angel worked hard not to meet Dean’s gaze.
“That is the second important social requirement, yes. Choosing a mate gives me higher status and makes my power more stable. Strengthens it by the power of my chosen one. Raphael is… he was very powerful and although he was on Zachariah side, he had yet to follow him openly and so he didn’t lose much power. He is a great a politician and…”
“And a total dick!” interrupted finally Dean, unwilling to listen to this further.
The office itself spoke volumes about that Raphael he had yet to meet, but Cas’ careful phrasing made it even more obvious that he is speaking in most vague way possible to not say something outright offensive.
“And you don’t even like him!” Cas glared at Dean slightly. “Oh, come on, who says thedude they’re supposed to hook up with isn't so bad, ‘cause he didn’t officially follow the dickhead who wanted to end the world!”
“Dean,” chided the angel. “My liking Raphael or not has little to do with actual case.”
“Really? ‘Cause it’d seem to me that you’re the big boss now, because you’ve done what your guts told you was the right thing, pissing on the whole great political plan. And now you wanna end it by marrying some dickhead and ruling from the creepiest office possible?”
The angel sighed and looked away. Dean bit his lip thoughtfully. Cas wanted advice, not someone giving him even more expectations to fulfill. He took a deep, calming breath, trying very hardly not to think of his angel marrying some righteous, sadistic moron like Zachariah or Uriel. Perhaps this Raphael dude just had a terrible taste in furniture.
“Hey, sorry, but you wanted my advice and my advice is: stay away from this Raphael douchebag,” shrugged Dean.
With some relief he noticed that Castiel was now looking at him again, small smile tugging at his lips.
“You really don’t like him, do you?” asked hunter, smiling back.
Castiel looked down, as if ashamed by the fact that he let his personal attachment drive him in making this decision. But his mouth kept on smiling.
“He really is a douche bag,” he agreed, surprising a bark of laughter from Dean. “The first stages of mating ritual are not bonding at all… It is a rather prolonged process and it was started with pretty much everyone my advisers suggested…”
“What,” interrupted Dean, “is it like, first looking with no blinking, then hand-holding, then whatever?”
The look the angel gave him was far from being impressed.
“It’s far less… involving contact. The first stages involve inviting to the preferred heaven, flying and standing in other’s space, touching wings, sharing a meal… Well, that’s actually human translation of it. We don’t really need to eat, so it’s more like offering gifts or sacrifice. Sometimes it’s food, sometimes some element of flora…”
“So… Inviting home, invading personal space, asking for dinner and giving flowers? Do you offer each others mix tapes and send Valentine cards as well or did you leave that part only for teenage girls?”
Castiel was clearly getting used to spending his time with Dean again, because he simply ignored hunter’s mocking.
“Doesn’t it take ages?”
“Usually, yes. This time, the situation is slightly… more pressing.”
Dean nodded absentmindedly, looking once again around him.
“Cas?” he asked finally and waited with continuing until the angel hummed in response. “Don’t touch wings with Raphael, he’s creepy.”
This heaven was much more to his taste. It was still not like anything he was used to or would like to really spend millennia in, but… it was indeed far better. Something he could get used to in time.
The feeling of deep concentration filling it. The smell of books and dust. Quiet rustle of whispers, light steps and turning pages.
He stood on the upper ground of the enormous library, looking down at rows of books and small tables with strong lamps. And dozens of people moving around in quiet order. Some of them stressed or frustrated, some of them clearly at loss. Most feeling calm and relaxed as if they were right where they belong, their fingers touching the books in greeting as if they were old friends.
If only the whole world could work that peacefully, thought Castiel. Then we would all peacefully die of boredom, added a tiny voice in his head with a cynical snarl the angel most associated with Dean Winchester. He sighed quietly, there was even no point in inviting the hunter here.
“Castiel?” asked Raziel, the angel whom one could most often meet in this heaven. “I must admit I am surprised to find you here. Aren’t you supposed to visit the most powerful and high in ranks?”
“I… I’m sorry, I just… I remember I used to find peace in this heaven.”
“And you don’t anymore?”
Castiel fell silent, unsure how to answer. He did find peace here, he was sure of that. After re-visiting Raphael’s heaven this place felt almost perfect. The library was peaceful and calming, feeling like a place he could find himself in. Standing on the upper floor and observing the humans, thinking that if he looked careless enough and from far enough, he could think he saw Winchester brothers by one of the tables, doing their research.
His grace glowed with the tugging feeling of longing and Raziel smiled at him knowingly, making Castiel avert his eyes, ashamed.
“Perhaps, these days, it is a bit too much of peace for you to handle,” he suggested and Castiel smiled back at him.
Raziel, though older, was always a good friend. Unfortunately not powerful enough to convince the angels that mating with him would be a smart choice. Castiel never before considered it as a matter of fact, mainly because had no great wish to spend the eternity with Raziel as his main company and mate, still it had to be better to be with a friend than a stranger or unreliable ally.
“Castiel, I…” started Raziel, unsure and almost fidgeting, his grace slightly darkening with embarrassment. Castiel looked closer at him, unused to angels acting in such manner. “Not only I do not expect you to follow the ritual fully with me, I also strongly discourage any such motions if they appear in your head. Life as a mate of a leader is far too… exciting for me.”
They smiled at each other understandingly. Anna used to say that Raziel joined the first war just so it’d end sooner and everyone would stop interrupting his reading.
“However, with that understanding between us, I would most certainly not be angry with you if you chose to follow the ritual up to the bringing the gifts part… The situation currently is a bit unsure and I don’t have that many trusted friends left, you understand, I simply…”
Castiel’s chuckle interrupted the other angel’s nervous explanations. They smiled at each other again, their graces touching with warmth and trust, and good humor.
“I will bring you new reading material from Earth,” promised Castiel and was rewarded with his brother’s bright smile.
The chupacabra was the easy part of their hunt. The hard one was not strangling Sam. Or so Dean decided after an hour on the road with his brother. They slayed the monster late last night and after few hours of sleep, during breakfast, Dean finally filled Sam in on the dream-conversation with Castiel. Sam found it way too hilarious for Dean’s liking.
“Wait, so is marking with handprint, zapping around, rebelling for and constantly invading personal space, angel’s way of hitting the second or third base? ‘Cause I’m not sure,” asked Sam as they drove down an empty highway and Dean really wanted to smack him.
“I am not sure what the definitions behind second and third bases are,” replied Castiel suddenly appearing in the backseat and Sam almost jumped out of his skin.
Good, thought Dean. ‘Don’t mock angels, they can hear you’ was an important lesson to learn.
“Cas,” said Sam festively, clearly fighting to find something to say that had nothing to do with mating rituals or baseball. “You decided to drop by without a prayer?”
“Yes,” replied the angel, looking outside the window. “You asked me to be in touch and I had something to do on Earth.”
“Is it angelic for ‘I was in the neighborhood so I thought I’d drop by’?” asked Dean, unable to help himself.
Seriously, when their lives become so weird that their friends came by when they ‘had something to do on Earth’. He felt like he’d befriend an E.T. he found in his closet or something.
“Yes,” replied Castiel simply. “I also am rather avoiding going back to heaven as long as I can without it becoming noticed.”
“Mate looking not going well?” asked Sam and Dean was truly amazed at how quickly he can drop the mocking to sound friendly concerned. It was like an emo superpower or something.
Castiel sighed in frustration, clearly giving away that Sam rather hit the point with his question.
“Did you tell that dick Raphael to piss off?” asked Dean quickly and Sam shot him a short-lived glare.
“Not at first, but the sacrifice stage of the ritual rather supported all your worries.”
Sam glanced unsure at Dean, who could only roll his eyes. He knew that particular puppy look since forever. Sam practiced it since he started talking in full sentences or rather, since Dean and Dad started trying to shut him up at least from time to time, so he could breathe or eat. To be honest those two stages in his life occurred about the same time, so it was hard to tell which one caused Sam’s ‘Can I ask a question? Can I? Can I?’ puppy look.
Dean just shrugged, figuring if Sam became too much Cas had powers to stop him. He could only hope the angel would rather go for ‘disappearing to avoid questioning’ or ‘making Sam sleep to shut him up’ and not straight for ‘smite’.
“And this sacrifice step is…?”
“Well, the ritual has lots of steps,” replied Castiel eagerly, almost as if he was starting a lecture and Dean briefly wondered if he was supposed to ask about those details, when he learned there was a ritual at all. Quickly he decided that if Cas wanted to talk technical details with someone, he always knew where to find Sammy. “Participants have to fulfill them till their graces merge.”
Perhaps though some details were worth learning.
“Is grace merging angel talk for sex?” asked Dean and Sam looked at him as if he was ashamed they were related.
“Close enough,” replied the angel after a moment of thought and Dean smiled smugly at his brother.
Eye-roll was his only response.
“The sacrifice is one of the steps usually made,” continued Castiel, ignoring the exchange between the brothers. “It grew from the old rituals of sacrificing as part of religion. The problem or rather the importance lays in the nature of sacrifice. Some have trees growing in their names and offer them to the mates. Or flowers cut from humans’ fields with angelic thought. Sometimes it is a fruit or a meal… Well, really anything can be offered.”
“If it’s so open for interpretation, it tells rather a lot about the angel, doesn’t it? Seeing what he considers appropriate offering… That’s why it is so important?”
Castiel nodded, clearly pleased that Sam’s following his explanation. Dean showed how supportive he was, withholding a comment about geekery taking over his car.
“Precisely.”
“And Raphael gave you a really, really sucky gift?” asked Dean knowingly.
“It was very powerful, but…” Castiel sighed. “Rachel didn’t seem to find anything wrong with it, perhaps…”
Dean looked at his brother, quietly debating how they should respond. Sam shrugged, mouthing ‘your angel’ and not being helpful at all. If Dean wasn’t driving he’d kick the little bastard.
“Hey,” he said to the angel instead, “I don’t know this Rachel chick, but I was not a fan of Raphael, I highly doubt I’d like his gift, powerful or not.”
Castiel nodded and seemed to gather his words for a minute, before he finally spoke, his gaze focused on the changing landscape behind the window.
“There was a soldier, fighting in the war. His name was Raphael and his mother told him to pray to his angel. And so he died in a fight with Raphael’s name on his lips. His death was my gift.”
The silence fell in the Impala. Sam mouthed ‘wow’, but let out no sound, clearly checking himself out of responding to the angel.
Dean’s hands were tight on the steering wheel. He met Castiel’s gaze in the rearview mirror, his eyes serious.
“Cas, do you trust me?” Angel frowned, nodding before he even had a chance to be surprised. “Do you trust me enough to, when I say it’s really important, life or death, Armageddon important, to do what I ask of you?”
Castiel blinked back at him, clearly confused and not understanding the sudden shift in the conversation. Still, he nodded without a word. Dean tried not to let his breath catch at that.
“Then, and it is highly important Cas, I ask you to stay away from this dickhead, okay?”
The angel’s eyes were wide, before he looked down and Dean could see a relieved smile painting on his surprised features.
“I promise.”
“Seriously? What is this? Lion King?”
Dean stood on a high rock, facing the savanna and watching the animals walking beneath. His eyes were huge and full of disbelief, even if freed from the distrust that shadowed them while Raphael’s office. Castiel sighed, he somehow already knew that while this space would please Dean more, it wouldn't be met with full approval.
Approving of another angel’s heaven choice was really to approve of an angel itself. And Dean was rather known for dismissing them all as a bunch of manipulative hypocrites. (Though he’d probably use much cruder words.)
“Another one of your potential mates?” Dean asked, turning back to Castiel, who just nodded in response. “Well, better than Raphael, I guess.”
“Yes, that’s what I thought.”
“But seriously? You wanna rule heaven from some African rock? Doesn’t much… seem like you.”
Castiel sighed.
“The heaven angel chooses says rather a lot about them.”
“So,” said Dean raising his eyebrows and glancing around. “This one is childish show-off?”
The angel bit his lips to not let his smile blossom fully. This was far from appropriate behavior. And yet as he thought of Balthazar stealing Uriel’s armor and then mockingly helping him to search for it through all heavens… he could only nod to Dean’s assessment.
“And I’m guessing he’s also very big fish in heaven’s sea?”
“He was close to my power before, now he got slightly promoted.” Castiel sighed, frustrated. “He is weaker than Raphael, but… Well, I actually consider him a friend.”
“Oh,” said Dean slowly and once again looked around as if more carefully. “So this one you’d actually like to mate with?”
“No,” replied Castiel quickly and chastised himself for it. “I mean, no, I would not have consider it before I was forced to chose at all. He simply is a friend, I think it could be easier to learn to live with him.”
Dean nodded slowly before walking further away to sit down, leaning against the rock and facing the warm, pleasant sun. Castiel watched the sunrays lightening the hunter’s face, thinking he too often saw him in the shadows and darkness.
The human must have sensed the angel’s intense gaze, because he opened his eyes and squinted comically at Castiel, nodding to the spot next to him. He waited until the angel sat down, close enough so their arms touched, before he spoke again:
“Is this power really that important? Can’t you just hook up with someone you like?”
“I don’t really…” started Castiel, but quickly stopped himself, deciding to concentrate on the first question instead. “The more power my mate has, the more mine is raised.”
The hunter frowned.
“But aren’t you all juiced up, one of the big guys now?”
“I am the strongest after God, yes.”
Dean nodded slowly, clearly surprised by that news, but not willing to be put off track.
“Wait, so what? You want even more? What more there is? You want to have God’s powers now? Wow, way to show over-ambitious.”
The angel frowned in confusion, but Dean’s criticism only awoke the annoyance in him again. So many times he faced Dean, trying to explain to him, while the hunter refused to listen. Watched everything from his small, human perceptive and expected to always be right and have a ground to judge everyone else. He knew nothing of heaven and little of angels and yet not only had Castiel asked him for advice, but Dean expected his guidance to be the only correct one.
“Look, Cas…” started Dean, clearly noticing angel’s anger, but Castiel did not let him finish, awakening him with a thought.
Dean woke up with a start, gasping for air. He sat up on Bobby’s floor, angrily tossing the sleeping bag away and running a hand over his face, trying to ease himself into being awake. It was by far not the most pleasant awaking he ever experienced, he made a mental note to not piss the nerdy angels when they visited in his head.
Finally he noted that the light by the desk was still on and he looked that way, meeting Bobby’s concerned gaze.
“What’s with you, Bobby? Parents let you watch late TV and now you’re scared to fall asleep?”
“Shut it, idjit,” growled the older hunter. “We were actually working on a job, while you enjoyed your wet dreams with an angel.”
The figure slumped over the table suggested Sam also rather checked out on the research part. Dean kicked his chair as he walked to the desk, but the kid didn’t even stir. Years of living with Dean trained him well: wake up if the monster sneaks in, sleep through Dean singing in the shower.
“Yeah, I see Sleeping Beauty is a great help here.”
“He’s working well as a paper weight, what’s your excuse?” answered Bobby quickly, grumbling as always and yet making a place by the desk for Dean and moving a glass of whisky in his direction.
“I became a wedding consultant for an angel, it’s a stressful job.”
“Yeah,” said Bobby slowly, watching Dean carefully.
“What? You’re jealous or something? I can plan your wedding to, you big girl, as soon as you find the right man for ya.”
Bobby just shook his head at him, clearly showing exactly what he thought of Dean's sense of humor and how even hyenas wouldn’t find it funny.
“Just watch out for yourself kid, okay?”
Dean stared at him disbelieving. Last week they called Bobby from a hunt, because they were outnumbered and outwitted by the convent of witches and while telling them what they could try, he also suggested sucking it up and dealing. Now he seemed jittered by an angel wedding.
“Watch out for what?” asked Dean incredulously. “To make sure he won’t make me his bridesmaid? It’s Cas, Bobby!”
“Yes, because relationships with supernatural things always ended great before,” mused the older hunter, his eyes landing on Sam’s sleeping form.
With his hands clenched, Dean fought to keep his voice leveled.
“First of all, this is different, very much different, like Britney Spears and AC/DC different! Second of all, it’s not a relationship!”
Bobby raised his eyebrows before reaching into one of the drawers in his desk to grab a thin, blue book that looked vaguely new. He handed it to Dean, who opened it to find it scribbled with Bobby’s handwriting.
“Your diary?”
“It’s a more or less adequate translation of a very old book in Enochian I found on angels’ rituals back when we were researching the whole band.”
Dean blinked.
“You know Enochian?”
“I do now,” snapped Bobby, annoyed with Dean’s lack of focus on the important part. “Seemed like a useful skill during Apocalypse. Now go away and read why you’re practically engaged to an angel and let me work.”
Dean rolled his eyes, but obediently left Bobby alone, choosing instead to go read in the kitchen. He had a feeling he may need a beer or five to get through this.
“Castiel, what are you doing here?” Rachel asked, her voice tense.
Her grace trembled with anger and displeasure. She was always such mix of emotions. Devotion and faith in God as their Father and Castiel as their leader. Frustration with unclearness of God’s orders, irritation with Castiel’s unwillingness to follow the protocol. She would be a good choice of a mate, less in the name of power exchange, more as guidance through protocols and politics.
Her heaven consisted of King Solomon’s visitation chamber. She enjoyed watching the smart order he brought to his kingdom, it calmed her down. The sight of a wise leader ruling in the name of God.
Castiel found it reassuring as well, but could never spend more time there. Couldn’t even fathom the idea of ruling anyone from there. It’d feel like sharing an office with a long dead king.
He escaped that place, choosing next heaven on a whim, but having sensed his destination, Rachel followed him.
“Castiel!” she chided again and he wondered if he could really deal with it for the eternity no matter how useful it was.
She remained hidden as he showed himself to the occupants of this heaven. He was glad to see them together, it seemed impossible that they should meet as they had so few honest and happy memories together. And yet it seemed impossible they’d be apart even now.
He found them in a memory they didn’t share in reality, but which he brought to her. They both sat on the park bench, while Sam played soccer ball with a team of friends. Fourteen-year-old Dean was wandering around, aiming at casual and not interested, while getting closer and closer to the group of older girls who giggled, talking to each other and barely glancing at the match.
Castiel stood by the bench, next to Mary who smiled up at him. John’s look was much more guarded, but it was only to be expected. He looked so much like Dean, when he acted protective.
“Hello, Mary, John. My name is Castiel, I am an angel of the Lord.”
If anything John’s guarded expression became even more so, but Mary’s smile did not fall.
“Hello, Castiel,” she said calmly. “Is there something you needed from us?”
“I… I know your sons. They helped save the world recently.”
One of the things about heaven which later made so much harder talking to living people was how rarely shocked they were. And even less often they showed any signs of disbelief.
The Winchesters seemed barely slightly surprised by the news and they looked at their boys with pride shining in their eyes. Of course their sons saved the world, why on Earth wouldn’t they?
“Dean… He asked me to rebel against my orders and help him. I have listened and helped stop the Apocalypse for which I was rewarded by my Father and made the leader of heaven.”
“Oh, that is splendid, Castiel!” exclaimed Mary, now involving him in her pride as well. He was unable not to smile back.
“It is indeed, thank you. However one of the duties I am currently burdened with is to choose a mate to rule with me for the eternity… It is a planned and thoughtful decision and I started the ritual with a few candidates. One of the steps of it is asking for a blessing from the creator of the other participant and I prayed to my Father for the blessing in rituals with my brothers.”
Mary nodded at him encouragingly, while John looked weary and half ready for a fight.
“Now I have come to ask your blessing for the ritual with your son, Dean.”
“You’re asking for our son among a bunch of other ‘candidates’?” growled John, unfriendly, and asked next questions before Castiel had a chance to respond. “Does Dean even know he’s your one of many possibilities? And how high are his chances if you’re aiming at a planned decision? I’ve talked to some angels since I got here, Castiel, I doubt marrying a human will bring you many followers.”
Castiel stared at the man, trying to find the words to respond, but unable to, since John had not accused him of anything he could deny.
“I don’t think his chances are that bad,” said Marry calmly, saving the angel from oppression. She stood up and walked to Castiel, putting her hands on his shoulders. “You are the ruler of heaven and have plenty of mighty candidates to be your mates, I’m sure of it, just as I’m sure that taking my son as a mate will bring chaos and confusion to your comfortable world and it’s the least reasonable thing to do.”
John snorted and Castiel looked away from Mary’s eyes. He shouldn’t even be here, both Mary and Rachel were right. Dean’s mother clenched his arms slightly until he looked back at her, surprised to find her smile warmer than ever before and her eyes wet.
“I am also sure that if you hadn’t love him enough to drop the reason you wouldn’t even bother coming in here.”
She kissed his forehead in a blessing, at the same time pushing him slightly out of their heaven. Rachel waited for him, he could sense it, so he changed his direction and landed in heaven no one visited in ages to think in peace.
This part of heaven belonged to Jonah, who didn’t have many memories to visit. Not only because his life was not the happiest one, but because one of the memories put a rather high bar for all the others. When Jonah was sixteen he left his heard of sheep and followed a star to Bethlehem.
Castiel sat quietly on a stone outside the barn, surrounded by happiness in every creation near him. Songs spilled through the mouths of every living creature witnessing the miracle. It made him feel safe and secure now more than awed and excited like the very first time he saw it, when he was still a fledging and in a small group of his brothers, taken by Gabriel to see the memory of the happiest miracle. It was the last place the archangel was ever seen and the mix of grief caused by this and joy brought by the sight of a miracle kept the angels away ever since.
It took Rachel awhile to find him.
“Castiel, what are you even considering, it isn’t wise.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about, sister,” he replied smoothly. “I consider plenty of candidates, like you suggested and…”
“And one of them is human!”
Castiel met her gaze angrily, his eyes hard and steady.
“And one of them is human,” he replied tersely. “And the choice is mine. Our Father trusts me to lead all of us, but you can’t trust me to chose my own mate?”
“I’d trust you if you’d chose logically. You seem to understand the importance of it and yet you’re strayed by your feelings, Castiel.” She said quickly, begging him to understand. “You know that choosing this way is not wise. It was the beginning of an end for Lucifer to chose Michael like this, I do not wish you to follow into his steps.”
The angry reply died on Castiel’s tongue as he heard another voice calling him.
Hey, Cas, it is not life or death kind of thing, but if by any chance you’re done sulking and wouldn’t mind dropping by, it’d be great and…
Castiel flew to Dean before the man finished his sentence.
The sky outside was gray and dark even though it was still early. The cold, insistent rain seeped in small droplets since morning. Dean sat by the table in yet another motel room, electric light keeping the grayness out.
Castiel appeared next to him before he managed to finish his prayer.
“Wow,” breathed the hunter, surprised. “Eager, aren’t you? And here I wondered if it’d work at all.”
The angel looked away briefly.
“Perhaps my reaction was a bit too harsh, considering the situation.”
Dean nodded in response.
“Apologize accepted,” he offered and smirked as Cas glared at him. “Listen… Okay, this may sound stupid, but… Well, Bobby gave me this book on angels’ rituals.”
He nodded at the tome lying on the table and Castiel quickly snatched it in his hands, looking through the pages, reading the contents with unearthly speed. He frowned at the text and Dean continued cautiously:
“And well, you know, Sam was earlier kind of joking you have plenty of points of the ritual completed with me and well according to this… Well, it may sound stupid but we seem to have at least five steps down.”
“Eight,” corrected Castiel quickly and Dean gulped. The minimum for closing the ritual was six. “This translation is not without a mistake and neither was the original book.”
“Okay,” said Dean slowly, slightly at loss. “I guess they were kind of necessary, right? Not planned as part of the ritual and all that.”
Their eyes met again and Dean was suddenly painfully aware of how intimate it felt. Almost as if they were touching or connecting their minds together. Not really invading, just… connecting. It sounded chick-flick like enough that Dean was sure it had to be one of the points he missed.
Castiel broke the look first. He put the book back on the table and stared out of the window at the unpleasant, gloomy afternoon.
“The ritual does not act like that. Often it is that participants follow certain steps accidentally, but to complete the ritual they have to be both aware of their actions and what they mean. The intention has to be there, Dean, we couldn’t be simply tricked into becoming mates.”
Dean nodded hurriedly, trying to look relieved. Mumbling something about a weight being taken of his shoulders and purposefully not glancing at the bags next to the table.
Castiel caught his eyes, frowning, and really, years of hunting should have taught Dean some acting skills. The angel looked away for a second, unsure. He licked his lips, looking nervous and Dean’s babbling died on his lips mid sentence.
“If, however, we were to continue the ritual, we’d have to act on some steps on purpose. Showing the intent behind our actions,” said the angel slowly, carefully forming and weighing every word like when he tried to show Dean the loophole in angels’ plans.
“If,” he repeated, “we were to fulfill the ritual, my visit to your parents’ heaven to ask for their blessing on it, would be counted as my act of intent…”
“But the ritual,” continued Dean, trying to wrap his mind about the fact that Castiel just went to his parents to ask for permission to marry him and whether it made him a chick in this relationship or just the dude with more easily approachable blood relatives. “It needs consent and act of intent from both of us to be set on track. So if I’d just ignore it…”
“No kind of binding would be put on you,” assured Castiel and perhaps it was wishful thinking on Dean part, but he did seem rather put out by this prospect.
The hunter nodded slowly, once again glancing at the bags and weighing his options. Just because Castiel was here and apparently continuing the steps of the ritual, it didn’t mean he stopped the rituals with others or that he even seriously considered picking Dean. Perhaps it was all just an act of rebellion against his advisers, showing them that while he can make logical and sensible choice, he can also do something completely opposite. Perhaps it was all just politics.
On the other hand, thought Dean glancing at the angel standing awkwardly in his motel room and shooting him unsure looks with his huge eyes, perhaps it was not.
Dean grabbed the bag and offered it to Castiel, standing nearer him. The angel blinked at him, before slowly extending his hand to take the gift. His nostrils flared as he sensed the aroma coming from the offering and Dean smiled proudly.
Tasting heavenly, smelling like happiness and not creepy at all. What more was there to look for in the offering?
“Here, Cas, I bought you the most delicious pie I could find as an offering.”
The angel took the bag and held it by his side, far more concentrated on Dean. He stepped even closer and Dean was sure he thought him enough about personal space that the angel was invading it on purpose. His blue eyes were jumping from Dean’s own to his mouth and the hunter decided that while clearly a vital stage in the ritual, there was already far enough of staring going on here.
He put a hand on Castiel’s neck and brought him close enough to kiss. Their mouths met briefly and chastely for the first time, before falling back together in much more heated performance. Castiel’s free hand sneaked under Dean’s shirt, sliding over his t-shirt, as Dean tipped the angel’s head back to kiss him deeper. Their tongues slide against each other, when a fake cough interrupted them.
“I said: sorry, didn’t meant to interrupt,” said Sam smugly, standing in the open door and Dean could only glare at him.
He probably would tell Sam exactly what he thought of his interrupting and perhaps throw a thing or two at him, but between one blink and another he was standing in a park. Sun shining brightly and grass green and neatly cut. Dean glanced at the smiling angel who simply moved to kiss him again.
Castiel let out a light growl as Dean interrupted the kiss after a moment and moved away a step, looking around the heaven they were in. The angel tried to concentrate enough to be able to predict Winchester’s verdict, but the sight of his neck nearly next to the angel’s mouth was highly distracting.
“Another heaven?” asked Dean and Castiel sighed, forcing his eyes away from the point where Dean’s neck scratched out into his jaw. He was suddenly curious how would it feel to kiss the shadow of stubble covering it.
“Yes,” he replied simply. “I was told it’s not dignified enough to rule from.”
Dean snorted.
“It is sure better than the others you showed me,” he said and finally won the battle for Castiel’s attention.
“Do you like it?”
The hunter shrugged.
“Well, if it will mean liking another one of your candidates then fuck no, but… It is way better, you know? And pretty cool to rule from. At least you don’t seem as if you’re overcompensating for anything. Just a nice day at a park. You’d always seem as if you were cool and peaceful even if you were freaking out completely. That’s good for a leader, I guess.”
Castiel simply stared at the human before him, smile forming on his lips. His fingers moved against Dean’s neck in affectionate gesture and the hunter finally look at him.
“To accept a heaven chosen by an angel is to accept the angel himself,” said Castiel and with amusement noticed Dean’s quick look around as if he searched to find something he could disapprove of in this angel he thought to be Castiel’s candidate for a mate. “This heaven I chose myself.”
Quiet ‘oh’ formed on Dean’s lips and he once again concentrated fully on his companion. One of his hands still on Castiel’s neck, now slid in its grip, the fingers brushing Castiel’s hair. The other palm slid up Castiel’s back under the coat, making him shiver and bringing him closer. He carefully let the bag with pie fall down as his own hands found their way on Dean’s body: his back and his arm, where he could sense his mark.
“That would be tenth step, I think,” said Dean, slowly moving his mouth closer to Castiel’s. “You think that’s enough to get to the ‘grace merging’?”
“Definitely,” replied the angel, his voice hoarse and he tugged Dean into another kiss.
As their bodies slide against each other, laying on the grass, Dean whispered to Castiel that having sex in heaven was more like dreaming about sex: all pleasure and no physics. Castiel thought it was still far more material than what would happen between two angels, but felt absolutely no need to ever find out for himself. If anything he only wished to try having sex with Dean on Earth, in one of their small, motel rooms or in the Impala backseat. Really, as far as he was concerned, they could do it anywhere and he told Dean as much. The hunter chuckled, his smile brushing against the skin of Castiel’s neck.
They moved together, pressing against each other and the only thing Castiel could think of was to get even closer. His mouth kissing every bit of skin he could reach, his hands sliding up and down Dean’s body, slicked by the sweat and wanting to touch every bit of the human above him. His wings curled around Dean’s form holding him closer and closer still.
Dean moaned as the feathers touched him and his wide eyes met Castiel’s. They stared at each other, astonished and reverent, before they kissed again moving even more rapidly. Seeking friction against the body of the other and pressing into the pleasure.
Castiel’s wings tightened around Dean as he came and held the human long after his own climax. Keeping him close, surrounded by Castiel’s presence.
“Will God be very mad that you didn’t hook up with a high class angel?” slurred Dean after a while, his lips still pressed against Castiel’s skin, trading lazy kisses from time to time.
“I hope not,” mumbled the angel in response without any deep concern about the matter, it was hard enough to tell what God meant when He actually did or said something. Guessing beforehand was way beyond Castiel’s abilities.
Dean chuckled, clearly amused by this response and Castiel joined in quickly, finding it hard to not smile back at him.
Their clothes reappeared just before Rachel showed herself and so she delivered her congratulations with a tight smile as they lay on the grass sharing cherry pie and smiles.
“She’d be terribly nagging wife,” declared Dean as Rachel left them alone again and Castiel could only smile, glad that he will never find out.
~the end~