Epilogue
After their first hunt together, Dean and Castiel had a talk.
For as long as he could remember, Castiel had been a warrior, a soldier. Fighting was in his nature, and he was damn good at it.
But he’d done the equivalent of turning in a resignation letter when he left Heaven to be with Dean.
For as long as he could remember, Dean had been a hunter. He sought out evil to destroy it, with his dad, with his brother.
But his dad and his brother were gone now.
It was clear that neither of their hearts were in it anymore. Dean was feeling twice his age these days. Taking into consideration the disadvantage his poor eyesight gave him, he was happy to hand over the reins to the next generation of hunters. Castiel had willingly given up his position as a soldier and wanted nothing more than make a life with Dean.
So they’d gone for the retirement option, with Bobby’s approval and help with new identification for Cas. Loathe to overstep the boundaries he’d already crossed, he’d refused the surname that had belonged to Jimmy Novak and instead chose the one given to his lost sister, Anna, while she’d been mortal.
Outside the little town of Litchfield, Connecticut, they’d found a small house in a modest neighborhood and slowly started building the life they’d decided to make together.
Cas worked from home, translating obscure texts and documents for authors, researchers and university professors. He was happy that there was still a way to put his angelic powers and knowledge to use without placing himself or Dean in harm’s way. Still only beginning to get used to the way humans lived, he was happy when he saw Dean’s reaction to how well he was paid for this particular skill.
Dean worked part-time at a local garage while he took classes for his EMT certification. His first suggestion, training to become a firefighter, had been vehemently objected to by Castiel and had led to the biggest argument they’d ever had. Cas was furious that Dean would want to remove himself from one dangerous line of work only to place himself into another. Dean instinctively got angry at being told what to do.
It was an ugly couple of days. Curses were yelled, doors were slammed, couches were slept on.
But in the end, Dean understood his lover’s concern and relented, offering the EMT training as a compromise.
A year later, Cas had made friends with their neighbors, and they’d saved up enough money to have Dean’s eye checked out properly. He wasn’t ready to have the corrective surgery the doctor suggested (though he was considering it), but his new glasses helped tremendously with his vision. Also, bonus points for Cas thinking the glasses looked sexy. Dean had made a few connections with his co-workers at the shop as well as his classmates.
As a result, when the day arrived that Castiel was to formally become a Winchester, they weren’t alone in a stuffy judge’s chamber. There were twenty people in their backyard as a magistrate oversaw their ‘civil union’ (which was now just as good as a legal marriage), watching them slide matching silver bands engraved with protective symbols onto each other’s ring fingers.
And then there was a party. Bobby was there, sans trucker cap, and with a date, that cute sheriff Dean had met a couple of times before. Everyone else was a new addition into their lives, as neither Dean nor Cas had any other family. They didn’t let that fact ruin the moment, though. Both of them figured Sam could see them, and were convinced he’d be smiling and maybe tearing up a little during the proceedings.
It was an accepted fact, Sam would never really be gone. Not for Dean, not for Castiel, not for Bobby. But this was Dean and Cas’ chance, an opportunity to start over, to make something that was just for the two of them.
Once everyone had left and it was just the two of them, Cas broke the silence that followed the consummation of their marriage.
“You know you’ve given me more than Heaven could ever have to offer, Dean.”
Dean held back his tears and replied, “You too, Mr. Winchester”, with a genuine smile that Cas figured he could live the rest of their lives on.
If I kiss you where it’s sore, will you feel better?
Better?
Better?
Will you feel anything at all?