Ice of Oblivion 24
Title: Ice of Oblivion Chapter 24/24
Author: zoomzoomzoomzoo
Fandom/Genre: SPN AU Romance, Drama, Action
Pairing (s): Dean/Castiel
Rating: T
Word Count: ~82,000
Warnings: Underage, Mild Sexual Situation, Violence, Major Character Death
Summary: AU. In a time of great tragedy in the lands of Mamot, the human race and the angel race are forced to form an unbreakable union that will bind them together for twenty seven lifetimes in order to stop the uprising of the demon race. In bargain they offer Castiel, one of the most powerful angels in the entire world to marry Dean Winchester, the young crown prince of the human world. The typically detached Castiel winds up falling in love with the Prince. The only problem is his brothers don’t expect Dean to live through the war. Will Castiel stay and support the man he loves despite the heartbreak that might accompany his passing or will he fall back in line with his brothers, becoming numb to all human emotions once more?
Chapter 24
It was like an electric shock.
Castiel’s eyes shot open as his essence poured back into his body racking his entire being through shock after shock of painful delight. The first thing he saw were the white drapes that hung low on his bed, the same white drapes that had been on his bed since his castle in Varanasi was built almost ten thousand years ago.
Was he home? Was it over?
Lifting himself from his place in the middle of the bed (bed?), Castiel’s eyes scanned the room. It was his room and it was exactly the same as it had been the last time Castiel was there. His grandfather clock tick-tocking in the corner with a small table right beside it and on that small table was the Dastiel flower. It was still in full bloom, just as Castiel left it all those years ago … how many years, he didn’t know.
His clothes were different too; no longer did he have the brown overcoat or the black and white suit. His clothes were reminiscent of sleeping gowns that he often saw Dean in when he was a child. They were white and way too big for him; he dragged himself out of the bed. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he swayed slightly and took hold of the bed.
Castiel exhaled and steadied himself on the white sheets underneath his fingers. Peering down, he was shocked to see a small ring on his finger. He raised his hand slowly and recognized it instantly as the Winchester Emblem. It was Dean’s ring; he’d always worn it ever since he was a child.
Dean…
A sudden slam of the door shocked Castiel back onto his feet. And there all of his brothers stood, all of their eyes wide with astonishment and happiness. Castiel felt an overwhelming sense of cheerfulness and bliss fill his soul. Within seconds, he was enveloped in the arms of each of his brothers.
He could not imagine how much they missed him for all of these years…
“Castiel, we can’t believe it. It’s been so long.”
He buried his head into his brother, Michael’s, shoulder and happily sighed. He was safe and he was back. He could feel his energy pouring back into him slowly but surely. ‘
After all of the initial commotion of actually being back was over; they all sat down in the dining room. Castiel found out that Michael shaved his head at one point, Gabriel was the reason why he shaved said head, Uriel was dating an angel and Zachariah went on a study tour in Iad. Castiel could not bring himself to mention Dean, but the stories were so hilarious that he almost forgot. But they also seemed very short especially for hundreds of years of stories they should have told him.
“How long was I gone?” Castiel asked eventually.
Michael smiled. “That’s the amazing part! It’s only been five years.”
Castiel perked up instantly and a smile took over his dry lips. Only five years; no other angel had been able to break the curse after only five years. And if it had only been five years than that meant… that meant Dean was only twenty eight and he was still alive…
“Where’s Dean?”
Michael looked nervously behind himself at the rest of their brothers; they all shifted away. They looked troubled and … sad…
A sinking feeling filled Castiel’s gut, his legs immediately gave out and he sat down heavily on his bed. He felt his mouth dry up and his eyes started to prickle familiarly; his brothers were all regarding him with the harshest mix of pity and sympathy - the same thing sometimes but not today. Castiel swallowed and looked at each of his brothers his excitement waning.
“What happened?”
His oldest brother - his hero - walked slowly toward him and leaned down to rest his hand on his brother’s shoulder.
“Castiel,” Michael began. Castiel looked away from him and back down into his lap, where his hands were balled up into identical fists. Michael’s hands came down on his own slowly and he squeezed them.
He raised his tear-stained eyes to his brother and his breath hitched when he saw the deep sadness encompassed in his brothers eyes.
He knew what it was, he knew what his brother was going to say to him. He knew he didn’t like it and he knew that his previous excitement for the future was unwarranted. But, none of that knowledge stopped the pang that assaulted Castiel’s abdomen when his brother said,
“He’s dead Castiel.”
Dead…
Dean was dead…
No
No
God, no!
He swallowed thickly and placed his hand on his head; he could feel wet trails outlining his face. “B - but, that doesn’t make sense. You said - you said I’ve only been gone for - for five years.”
Michael nodded, understanding and pity still weighing down his entire being. He sat down beside Castiel on the bed while the rest of his brothers trickled out of the room one by one their looks of sympathy concrete in their eyes.
“I know Castiel - Dean died many years ago. Not very long after... well, after you went away.”
Castiel cleared his throat; he’d been prepared for this. When he went away he thought he was going to be gone for hundreds of years and Dean would be dead because he was human. But, it had only been five years. Dean was supposed to be twenty-seven - still a very young man - and alive and well as a hero and king. He was their champion, he was supposed to win the war and live on… the war…
“Did he - was he killed in the war?”
“No,” Michael answered quickly.
Castiel frowned. Now, that didn’t make any sense. If Dean was dead and he wasn’t killed in the war than that meant something much worse killed him… or, maybe he just died…
“Was there a plague or - or an assassination plot?”
Michael shook his head solemnly.
“Then what?” Castiel asked him pathetically. “If not the war then what? People like Dean don’t just die!”
“I know, brother. He was killed, yes, but not in the war or in an assassination or a plague… something happened to him.”
Castiel wiped furiously at his eyelids to wipe away the moisture all over his face and he glanced nervously at his brother. “What happened to him? What happened to the war, I thought you said -“ Castiel exhaled a shaky sob. “- I thought you said the war was coming… that it wasn’t very far away.”
“That was a mistake. The war - it may never happen.”
“What?”
“It’s difficult to explain - “ Michael stuttered, but was interrupted.
“Michael, stop dancing around the subject! Tell me, he was my husband; I have every right to know,” Castiel said in a calm but apparently fierce voice.
~*~*~*~
Michael sat down on a chair at the very end of the room that his foolish “brother-in-law” decided to put his brother in until they found proper quarters for him until he woke up again. Said foolish brother-in-law, Dean Winchester, sat at the other end of the room - where his husband and Michael’s brother, Castiel, was reclining for his overnight stay in dream land - with his hands gripped tightly over Castiel’s.
There were still tears in his eyes; an amazing feat since it had been almost a week since Castiel succumbed to the curse.
Michael grew bored of mourning; his brother would be back soon. Two hundred years was very short for people like him and his brothers - they’d been in the world since the first waterfall, after all.
It was disappointing though; he truly felt bad for Castiel and as much as he hated to admit it, he felt sorrow for the only human that his brother ever loved. The boy was only twenty three and was already a grieving widow…
“Mister Winchester, I think it would do you good to get some air or maybe a bite to eat.”
Like a zombie, the Winchester boy snaked his hands away from Castiel’s - there was a pained expression on his face when he noted the way the angel’s hands fell limply to the side - walked to the window, opened it, grabbed a cashew from a small dish on the night stand and then sat down beside Castiel again.
“Dean, that’s not exactly what I meant.”
Dean looked at Michael, annoyance in his eyes, before nodding. “I know, asshole.”
The angel’s temperature flared and he sneered at the boy. “Listen, I’m only trying to help. You sitting there killing yourself is not going to bring my brother back. It’ll only make him feel worse when he comes back and I tell him that you’re dead.”
Dean sighed and didn’t bother to reply. His large green eyes dropped to Castiel’s chest and a deep frown marred his admittedly beautiful features.
Michael felt a pang of guilt; he knew the boy was having a very hard time and he was yelling at him. He was not used to being around humans with their fragile emotions and blatant disrespect to those more powerful than them. But, he did respect him a lot; Dean did really love his brother and all of this devotion to him only served to further solidify the fact as well as the ring that sat on his brothers fingers since the first day Castiel was underneath the curse. He wanted to make the boy feel better but it was unlikely that anything he said would spark a positive reaction from him.
“Look, all I’m trying to say is when my brother comes back you’ll want to look your best; he loves you and I’m sure he’ll want to see you at you as chipper and young as the day he met you.” It was painful to speak those words no matter how true they really were; if by some miracle Castiel did pop up again he knew the first thing he would want to do was fall into Dean’s arms.
Dean looked at him quickly and nodded. “I’m going to get up - “
“When you feel like it?”
“No,” Dean chirped in an unconvincing manner. “When I feel better.”
“Of course,” Michael said, exasperated.
He didn’t want to be this boy’s keeper; he had a father and a younger brother who could be doing this hassling job for him. But, for some reason he felt like he had a responsibility; as much as he hated to admit it the boy was Castiel’s husband and was thus, his family. Standing up, Michael walked up to Dean and put his hands on his shoulder; he felt stiff and awkward…
“Just come on, get some sleep. You can sleep in the bed… if you want.”
Dean frowned and nodded begrudgingly. Michael helped him onto his feet, noting the slight sway of his body. He helped the pitiful human onto the other side of the bed and laid him down; he grimaced when Dean subconsciously threw his hand over Castiel’s chest and buried his head in his still warm neck.
Within moments, the young man was sleeping soundly with his comatose husband in his arms.
After about an hour of waiting around, there was a burst of commotion outside of the room. There were many voices raised, some screaming and some yelling, and many feet pitter-pattering along.
Michael sighed exasperatedly and got onto his feet, meaning to tell them to shut their traps because their future King is sleeping. But, then the door burst open and Michael felt a towering power that he knew all too well.
The steps were painfully slow and steady; Michael inhaled sharply when he saw the face of the brother he’d always loved and was always severely disappointed in.
“Brother, it’s been a long time.”
“Lucifer,” Michael said spitefully.
“Haven’t seen you for twenty years and this is the greeting I get. That’s so you…”
Michael looked back nervously at his brother and his slowly stirring husband. He didn’t move to get in the way of them because by the smirk on Lucifer’s face he already saw them. He just stood tall and stared blankly at his brother.
“How did you get in here?”
Lucifer shrugged. “I walked -“
“Get out!”
Lucifer smirked and walked forward. “What’s wrong brother? Aren’t you happy to see me?”
Michael fixed Lucifer with a steely gaze. “What do you want?”
Lucifer sighed dreamily and started to walk around slowly. “There are many things I want: revenge, destruction and a sunny ol’ place to call my own.”
Michael stopped forward menacingly. “And you think you’re going to get that here?”
Lucifer pouted giving Michael a ‘duh’ face and then nodded. “Of course.”
Michael didn’t reply but he was ready to attack and kill his brother if he stepped out of line. He knew this was not his job, he was not meant to kill his brother. He tried to fight the prophecy before and now Castiel was in a comatose state. He wasn’t going to kill Lucifer- that was Dean’s job.
“And look who it is!” Lucifer said. He was looking at Dean and Castiel; Dean was still sleeping despite all of the noise, probably because of the severe lack of sleep he had been getting during the past week. “It’s our little brother Castiel. How’s he been doing big bro?”
Michael gave Lucifer a dull look; even from miles away any angel could tell that Castiel was trapped within himself.
“Not too good, huh?” Lucifer asked him shallowly and then shrugged. “Oh well, what can you do? It’s a disappointment though, look at the hot piece of ass he’s got all to himself.”
“Don’t speak about him in such a way!” Michael snapped. “Don’t speak about him like he’s not - “
“Like he’s not what? The man who’s supposed to send me back to papa?”
Michael sneered and with a small frown, he walked closer to Lucifer. “Leave now! All of our brothers are here and you do not want to face their wrath in addition to mine… do you?”
Lucifer didn’t even flinch but his little grin grew. “I’ve just come here to give you the good news.”
“What good news?”
Lucifer smirked, taking a couple of steps closer to his brother, amusement and menace in his eyes. “I’ve foreclosed on some previously unused property,”
“Property? Where? You already own all of Iad… practically.”
“It’s not in this spectrum of the world though; it’s more of a previously uncreated, always thought of but rarely used piece of property… one that you’ve created rumors about.”
Michael’s mind clicked instantly. “Hell,” He stated more than asked.
Lucifer nodded forbiddingly.
Michael was baffled; that was impossible. Even if Lucifer was able to make an actual hell, it was highly unlikely that their father would permit any of the souls in the world to travel down there for eternity. They were his souls after all.
“That’s impossible.”
Lucifer shrugged and smiled cheekily.
“If you’ve got your ‘property’ then why are you here telling me when you should be busy decorating,” Michael said smartly.
Lucifer made a small ‘Ah’ sound and reached into his pocket. Michael watched him with a calculating eye and he immediately went into a defensive position when he saw the long knife that the angel pulled out of his pocket.
“What are you doing, Lucifer?”
Lucifer held the knife up to his face and eyed it. He smirked at Michael and his eyes shifted slightly.
“I’m just here to collect my first guinea pig.”
Michael was about to ask him what the hell that meant but then he heard the distant moaning of Dean. He hopped up immediately and whipped around.
“Dean, get out the way!”
The boy wiped his eyes and lazily looked up at the two angels; apparently not hearing or not intending to hear anything that Michael was saying to him. Michael caught sight of the tiny glimmer in Lucifer’s eyes and turned back around to attack his brother and prevent him from doing whatever he was planning on doing.
He was too late and Lucifer, with alarming accuracy, threw the knife at Dean and it went straight into his chest. Michael could barely breath as he watched the still confused Dean grip where the knife punctured, blood seeping through his fingers and then coming out of his mouth.
Dean turned slightly and coughed out a large amount of blood onto Castiel’s overcoat. Michael immediately rushed forward and tried to help Dean but he could feel his life energy fading at an alarming rate. There was nothing he could do…
When he turned around, Lucifer was gone.
He laid Dean down on Castiel’s chest as the boy struggled to speak and held onto his wound tightly. Within seconds, the boy was gone as well.
He could barely remember the next couple of minutes; after John and Samuel Winchester came in and tried to rouse their already dead loved one, to no avail, it all kind of ran together. The medics rushing in, the weeping, the public announcement and all of the yelling all became one.
They had Castiel transported back to his home in Varanasi, Himmel and set up in his own room. Michael attended the funeral - it was truly an amazing service and all of Inim came out to pay their respects to the fallen Crown Prince.
He prayed to his father for days on end to find out what happened to Dean’s soul and essence. His father was sad to tell him after more than two weeks of constant prayer that Lucifer took Dean to hell.
And Michael was sad to tell Castiel the same thing nearly five years later.
~*~*~*~
After Michael’s story was over, Castiel went back to his room, alone. He couldn’t fathom it. A miracle happened; he broke the curse within five years of being under it. He was supposed to be with Dean.
When he opened his eyes, the first thing he should have seen was Dean. His beautiful smile lighting up Castiel’s insides as he welcomed his husband back into the land of the living. They were supposed to kiss and hug, cry and laugh. They were supposed to have a proper wedding ceremony with all of their families around. The war was supposed to be over and they were supposed to live the rest of their lives in supreme bliss, with each other.
A miracle happened, a miracle that meant nothing because whether he awoke in five years or five hundred, he would never see Dean again.
Even when he thought he was going to outlive Dean by millenniums, he never imagined the possibility that he would never see him again. He thought that even when Dean’s death day came they would still reunite in heaven with Father. Dean would be in his eternal dreamland and he would come and they would spend an eternity with each other.
But now… now…
Now that wasn’t going to happen; not today and not ever.
Dean was in hell; the best person that Castiel knew was in hell being tortured eternally by the most ruthless angel known to man.
Not for anything he did but because of something he did not choose.
If he’d been more careful during that battle he might have been able to save him. If only he’d watched his own back more closely, he could have saved him from Lucifer.
He was there after all, Dean’s body was pressed against his when he was impaled and Michael - the amazing big brother he is - allowed Dean to die on top of his chest. If he was not cursed he could have saved Dean, he would detracted the attack. Hell, he would have taken the knife into his own gut if that meant saving Dean’s life.
He would have given up anything to save Dean’s life, everything in his world.
Castiel walked ghostly through his room; he didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. For the past twenty years the only thing in the world to him was Dean. And now, all he could think about was Dean and all he could see was Dean’s face. But, Dean was not there anymore. His entire essence was destroyed by Lucifer.
He couldn’t make himself believe it - this was Dean. The same little boy with the angel face and cheeky smile that promised to protect within a couple of minutes of introducing himself. The same young man that openly wept after witnessing the deaths of people he didn’t even know. The same teenager that slyly fell in love with an angel and sealed the deal with his first kiss. The same man that made Castiel feel things that he didn’t even know were possible. The same person who loved Castiel with a passion that he never witnessed before.
He was gone…
Castiel walked toward his closet and immediately saw the Dastiel flower. It stood erect and large, lovely in its full bloom. And for some reason Castiel was reminded of a promise he made more than twenty-five years ago…
I promise, I will protect your son, Mary Winchester.
And he would. He could not let Dean stay in hell. He would find a way to get to him. He was going to rescue him from that place. If it was the last thing he did, he would save Dean. He was his husband; they were bound together for all eternity. Lucifer could not take that away from him.
He was going to go down therel - no matter how terrifying Lucifer has made it in the short five years since it’s creation. He was going to force his way through hell and he was going to send Dean’s soul where it belonged. He would not let Dean spend another second in hell, not as long as there was something he could do.
He could already feel the tears prickling his eyes as he turned and stared at his room. Dean never saw his room…
“Cas, when am I going to go over your house for a visit?” Eight-year-old Dean asked Castiel. He sat cross legged on his bed with a large book in his lap and an apple in his hand. He bounced it back and forth between his two hands with a small curious smile on his face.
Castiel looked away from the book he was reading and smiled at Dean. “I promise you, you’ll have no fun at my house.”
Dean pouted. “Why not? If you’re there, I’ll have fun.”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing there for you, just a bed, a lot of boring books and my crabby older brothers.”
Dean laughed out loud and continued tossing the apple back and forth. “But, it’s not fair. You’ve seen my room a bunch of times, friends are supposed to visit each other. And I don’t have any other friends!”
Castiel frowned and cocked his head to the side. “Why would you say that? You have many friends.”
Dean shook his head. “They all live here, you’re my only friend that doesn’t. Plus you’re my best friend and you’re my guardian. I want to have visit with you and your family!”
Castiel scowled playfully. “But, Dean, you’re my only friend. I have no other people to visit other than you and I like being here.”
Dean gasped openly and the apple dropped from his hands. He got onto his knees - the book falling from his lap and crawled over to Castiel. He placed his hands on Castiel’s cheeks - causing the angel to uncharacteristically blush and pull away a bit. Dean looked him dead in the eyes and peered sadly at him.
“I’m your only friend? That’s impossible, you’re Cas. You’re the best person I know; you must have so many friends. And if you don’t then I’ll find you some,” Dean said, determination in his eyes.
Castiel smiled. He lifted his hand and placed it gently on Dean’s arm. “I don’t need any friends other than you.”
Dean’s face lit up, he leaned in quickly and surprisingly kissed Castiel on the cheek. He pulled back with a small smack and smiled at Castiel. “Then let me come to your house, okay. I want to sleep in your bed.”
Castiel nodded. It would be nice invite Dean to his house; he could meet his brothers and his soon-to-be new family. Looking at Dean’s smiling face, Castiel knew he would have to invite Dean to his house soon.
Castiel snatched open his closet and the first thing he saw was his brown overcoat. His brothers had not washed it apparently because there was a large spot of blood - Dean’s blood - still on it. Dean’s hand print was still on the upper part of Castiel’s jacket and there were various splotches all over every other area.
Castiel raised his hand up slowly and ran it down Dean’s hand print. And he wept.
Author: zoomzoomzoomzoo
Fandom/Genre: SPN AU Romance, Drama, Action
Pairing (s): Dean/Castiel
Rating: T
Word Count: ~82,000
Warnings: Underage, Mild Sexual Situation, Violence, Major Character Death
Summary: AU. In a time of great tragedy in the lands of Mamot, the human race and the angel race are forced to form an unbreakable union that will bind them together for twenty seven lifetimes in order to stop the uprising of the demon race. In bargain they offer Castiel, one of the most powerful angels in the entire world to marry Dean Winchester, the young crown prince of the human world. The typically detached Castiel winds up falling in love with the Prince. The only problem is his brothers don’t expect Dean to live through the war. Will Castiel stay and support the man he loves despite the heartbreak that might accompany his passing or will he fall back in line with his brothers, becoming numb to all human emotions once more?
Chapter 24
It was like an electric shock.
Castiel’s eyes shot open as his essence poured back into his body racking his entire being through shock after shock of painful delight. The first thing he saw were the white drapes that hung low on his bed, the same white drapes that had been on his bed since his castle in Varanasi was built almost ten thousand years ago.
Was he home? Was it over?
Lifting himself from his place in the middle of the bed (bed?), Castiel’s eyes scanned the room. It was his room and it was exactly the same as it had been the last time Castiel was there. His grandfather clock tick-tocking in the corner with a small table right beside it and on that small table was the Dastiel flower. It was still in full bloom, just as Castiel left it all those years ago … how many years, he didn’t know.
His clothes were different too; no longer did he have the brown overcoat or the black and white suit. His clothes were reminiscent of sleeping gowns that he often saw Dean in when he was a child. They were white and way too big for him; he dragged himself out of the bed. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he swayed slightly and took hold of the bed.
Castiel exhaled and steadied himself on the white sheets underneath his fingers. Peering down, he was shocked to see a small ring on his finger. He raised his hand slowly and recognized it instantly as the Winchester Emblem. It was Dean’s ring; he’d always worn it ever since he was a child.
Dean…
A sudden slam of the door shocked Castiel back onto his feet. And there all of his brothers stood, all of their eyes wide with astonishment and happiness. Castiel felt an overwhelming sense of cheerfulness and bliss fill his soul. Within seconds, he was enveloped in the arms of each of his brothers.
He could not imagine how much they missed him for all of these years…
“Castiel, we can’t believe it. It’s been so long.”
He buried his head into his brother, Michael’s, shoulder and happily sighed. He was safe and he was back. He could feel his energy pouring back into him slowly but surely. ‘
After all of the initial commotion of actually being back was over; they all sat down in the dining room. Castiel found out that Michael shaved his head at one point, Gabriel was the reason why he shaved said head, Uriel was dating an angel and Zachariah went on a study tour in Iad. Castiel could not bring himself to mention Dean, but the stories were so hilarious that he almost forgot. But they also seemed very short especially for hundreds of years of stories they should have told him.
“How long was I gone?” Castiel asked eventually.
Michael smiled. “That’s the amazing part! It’s only been five years.”
Castiel perked up instantly and a smile took over his dry lips. Only five years; no other angel had been able to break the curse after only five years. And if it had only been five years than that meant… that meant Dean was only twenty eight and he was still alive…
“Where’s Dean?”
Michael looked nervously behind himself at the rest of their brothers; they all shifted away. They looked troubled and … sad…
A sinking feeling filled Castiel’s gut, his legs immediately gave out and he sat down heavily on his bed. He felt his mouth dry up and his eyes started to prickle familiarly; his brothers were all regarding him with the harshest mix of pity and sympathy - the same thing sometimes but not today. Castiel swallowed and looked at each of his brothers his excitement waning.
“What happened?”
His oldest brother - his hero - walked slowly toward him and leaned down to rest his hand on his brother’s shoulder.
“Castiel,” Michael began. Castiel looked away from him and back down into his lap, where his hands were balled up into identical fists. Michael’s hands came down on his own slowly and he squeezed them.
He raised his tear-stained eyes to his brother and his breath hitched when he saw the deep sadness encompassed in his brothers eyes.
He knew what it was, he knew what his brother was going to say to him. He knew he didn’t like it and he knew that his previous excitement for the future was unwarranted. But, none of that knowledge stopped the pang that assaulted Castiel’s abdomen when his brother said,
“He’s dead Castiel.”
Dead…
Dean was dead…
No
No
God, no!
He swallowed thickly and placed his hand on his head; he could feel wet trails outlining his face. “B - but, that doesn’t make sense. You said - you said I’ve only been gone for - for five years.”
Michael nodded, understanding and pity still weighing down his entire being. He sat down beside Castiel on the bed while the rest of his brothers trickled out of the room one by one their looks of sympathy concrete in their eyes.
“I know Castiel - Dean died many years ago. Not very long after... well, after you went away.”
Castiel cleared his throat; he’d been prepared for this. When he went away he thought he was going to be gone for hundreds of years and Dean would be dead because he was human. But, it had only been five years. Dean was supposed to be twenty-seven - still a very young man - and alive and well as a hero and king. He was their champion, he was supposed to win the war and live on… the war…
“Did he - was he killed in the war?”
“No,” Michael answered quickly.
Castiel frowned. Now, that didn’t make any sense. If Dean was dead and he wasn’t killed in the war than that meant something much worse killed him… or, maybe he just died…
“Was there a plague or - or an assassination plot?”
Michael shook his head solemnly.
“Then what?” Castiel asked him pathetically. “If not the war then what? People like Dean don’t just die!”
“I know, brother. He was killed, yes, but not in the war or in an assassination or a plague… something happened to him.”
Castiel wiped furiously at his eyelids to wipe away the moisture all over his face and he glanced nervously at his brother. “What happened to him? What happened to the war, I thought you said -“ Castiel exhaled a shaky sob. “- I thought you said the war was coming… that it wasn’t very far away.”
“That was a mistake. The war - it may never happen.”
“What?”
“It’s difficult to explain - “ Michael stuttered, but was interrupted.
“Michael, stop dancing around the subject! Tell me, he was my husband; I have every right to know,” Castiel said in a calm but apparently fierce voice.
~*~*~*~
Michael sat down on a chair at the very end of the room that his foolish “brother-in-law” decided to put his brother in until they found proper quarters for him until he woke up again. Said foolish brother-in-law, Dean Winchester, sat at the other end of the room - where his husband and Michael’s brother, Castiel, was reclining for his overnight stay in dream land - with his hands gripped tightly over Castiel’s.
There were still tears in his eyes; an amazing feat since it had been almost a week since Castiel succumbed to the curse.
Michael grew bored of mourning; his brother would be back soon. Two hundred years was very short for people like him and his brothers - they’d been in the world since the first waterfall, after all.
It was disappointing though; he truly felt bad for Castiel and as much as he hated to admit it, he felt sorrow for the only human that his brother ever loved. The boy was only twenty three and was already a grieving widow…
“Mister Winchester, I think it would do you good to get some air or maybe a bite to eat.”
Like a zombie, the Winchester boy snaked his hands away from Castiel’s - there was a pained expression on his face when he noted the way the angel’s hands fell limply to the side - walked to the window, opened it, grabbed a cashew from a small dish on the night stand and then sat down beside Castiel again.
“Dean, that’s not exactly what I meant.”
Dean looked at Michael, annoyance in his eyes, before nodding. “I know, asshole.”
The angel’s temperature flared and he sneered at the boy. “Listen, I’m only trying to help. You sitting there killing yourself is not going to bring my brother back. It’ll only make him feel worse when he comes back and I tell him that you’re dead.”
Dean sighed and didn’t bother to reply. His large green eyes dropped to Castiel’s chest and a deep frown marred his admittedly beautiful features.
Michael felt a pang of guilt; he knew the boy was having a very hard time and he was yelling at him. He was not used to being around humans with their fragile emotions and blatant disrespect to those more powerful than them. But, he did respect him a lot; Dean did really love his brother and all of this devotion to him only served to further solidify the fact as well as the ring that sat on his brothers fingers since the first day Castiel was underneath the curse. He wanted to make the boy feel better but it was unlikely that anything he said would spark a positive reaction from him.
“Look, all I’m trying to say is when my brother comes back you’ll want to look your best; he loves you and I’m sure he’ll want to see you at you as chipper and young as the day he met you.” It was painful to speak those words no matter how true they really were; if by some miracle Castiel did pop up again he knew the first thing he would want to do was fall into Dean’s arms.
Dean looked at him quickly and nodded. “I’m going to get up - “
“When you feel like it?”
“No,” Dean chirped in an unconvincing manner. “When I feel better.”
“Of course,” Michael said, exasperated.
He didn’t want to be this boy’s keeper; he had a father and a younger brother who could be doing this hassling job for him. But, for some reason he felt like he had a responsibility; as much as he hated to admit it the boy was Castiel’s husband and was thus, his family. Standing up, Michael walked up to Dean and put his hands on his shoulder; he felt stiff and awkward…
“Just come on, get some sleep. You can sleep in the bed… if you want.”
Dean frowned and nodded begrudgingly. Michael helped him onto his feet, noting the slight sway of his body. He helped the pitiful human onto the other side of the bed and laid him down; he grimaced when Dean subconsciously threw his hand over Castiel’s chest and buried his head in his still warm neck.
Within moments, the young man was sleeping soundly with his comatose husband in his arms.
After about an hour of waiting around, there was a burst of commotion outside of the room. There were many voices raised, some screaming and some yelling, and many feet pitter-pattering along.
Michael sighed exasperatedly and got onto his feet, meaning to tell them to shut their traps because their future King is sleeping. But, then the door burst open and Michael felt a towering power that he knew all too well.
The steps were painfully slow and steady; Michael inhaled sharply when he saw the face of the brother he’d always loved and was always severely disappointed in.
“Brother, it’s been a long time.”
“Lucifer,” Michael said spitefully.
“Haven’t seen you for twenty years and this is the greeting I get. That’s so you…”
Michael looked back nervously at his brother and his slowly stirring husband. He didn’t move to get in the way of them because by the smirk on Lucifer’s face he already saw them. He just stood tall and stared blankly at his brother.
“How did you get in here?”
Lucifer shrugged. “I walked -“
“Get out!”
Lucifer smirked and walked forward. “What’s wrong brother? Aren’t you happy to see me?”
Michael fixed Lucifer with a steely gaze. “What do you want?”
Lucifer sighed dreamily and started to walk around slowly. “There are many things I want: revenge, destruction and a sunny ol’ place to call my own.”
Michael stopped forward menacingly. “And you think you’re going to get that here?”
Lucifer pouted giving Michael a ‘duh’ face and then nodded. “Of course.”
Michael didn’t reply but he was ready to attack and kill his brother if he stepped out of line. He knew this was not his job, he was not meant to kill his brother. He tried to fight the prophecy before and now Castiel was in a comatose state. He wasn’t going to kill Lucifer- that was Dean’s job.
“And look who it is!” Lucifer said. He was looking at Dean and Castiel; Dean was still sleeping despite all of the noise, probably because of the severe lack of sleep he had been getting during the past week. “It’s our little brother Castiel. How’s he been doing big bro?”
Michael gave Lucifer a dull look; even from miles away any angel could tell that Castiel was trapped within himself.
“Not too good, huh?” Lucifer asked him shallowly and then shrugged. “Oh well, what can you do? It’s a disappointment though, look at the hot piece of ass he’s got all to himself.”
“Don’t speak about him in such a way!” Michael snapped. “Don’t speak about him like he’s not - “
“Like he’s not what? The man who’s supposed to send me back to papa?”
Michael sneered and with a small frown, he walked closer to Lucifer. “Leave now! All of our brothers are here and you do not want to face their wrath in addition to mine… do you?”
Lucifer didn’t even flinch but his little grin grew. “I’ve just come here to give you the good news.”
“What good news?”
Lucifer smirked, taking a couple of steps closer to his brother, amusement and menace in his eyes. “I’ve foreclosed on some previously unused property,”
“Property? Where? You already own all of Iad… practically.”
“It’s not in this spectrum of the world though; it’s more of a previously uncreated, always thought of but rarely used piece of property… one that you’ve created rumors about.”
Michael’s mind clicked instantly. “Hell,” He stated more than asked.
Lucifer nodded forbiddingly.
Michael was baffled; that was impossible. Even if Lucifer was able to make an actual hell, it was highly unlikely that their father would permit any of the souls in the world to travel down there for eternity. They were his souls after all.
“That’s impossible.”
Lucifer shrugged and smiled cheekily.
“If you’ve got your ‘property’ then why are you here telling me when you should be busy decorating,” Michael said smartly.
Lucifer made a small ‘Ah’ sound and reached into his pocket. Michael watched him with a calculating eye and he immediately went into a defensive position when he saw the long knife that the angel pulled out of his pocket.
“What are you doing, Lucifer?”
Lucifer held the knife up to his face and eyed it. He smirked at Michael and his eyes shifted slightly.
“I’m just here to collect my first guinea pig.”
Michael was about to ask him what the hell that meant but then he heard the distant moaning of Dean. He hopped up immediately and whipped around.
“Dean, get out the way!”
The boy wiped his eyes and lazily looked up at the two angels; apparently not hearing or not intending to hear anything that Michael was saying to him. Michael caught sight of the tiny glimmer in Lucifer’s eyes and turned back around to attack his brother and prevent him from doing whatever he was planning on doing.
He was too late and Lucifer, with alarming accuracy, threw the knife at Dean and it went straight into his chest. Michael could barely breath as he watched the still confused Dean grip where the knife punctured, blood seeping through his fingers and then coming out of his mouth.
Dean turned slightly and coughed out a large amount of blood onto Castiel’s overcoat. Michael immediately rushed forward and tried to help Dean but he could feel his life energy fading at an alarming rate. There was nothing he could do…
When he turned around, Lucifer was gone.
He laid Dean down on Castiel’s chest as the boy struggled to speak and held onto his wound tightly. Within seconds, the boy was gone as well.
He could barely remember the next couple of minutes; after John and Samuel Winchester came in and tried to rouse their already dead loved one, to no avail, it all kind of ran together. The medics rushing in, the weeping, the public announcement and all of the yelling all became one.
They had Castiel transported back to his home in Varanasi, Himmel and set up in his own room. Michael attended the funeral - it was truly an amazing service and all of Inim came out to pay their respects to the fallen Crown Prince.
He prayed to his father for days on end to find out what happened to Dean’s soul and essence. His father was sad to tell him after more than two weeks of constant prayer that Lucifer took Dean to hell.
And Michael was sad to tell Castiel the same thing nearly five years later.
~*~*~*~
After Michael’s story was over, Castiel went back to his room, alone. He couldn’t fathom it. A miracle happened; he broke the curse within five years of being under it. He was supposed to be with Dean.
When he opened his eyes, the first thing he should have seen was Dean. His beautiful smile lighting up Castiel’s insides as he welcomed his husband back into the land of the living. They were supposed to kiss and hug, cry and laugh. They were supposed to have a proper wedding ceremony with all of their families around. The war was supposed to be over and they were supposed to live the rest of their lives in supreme bliss, with each other.
A miracle happened, a miracle that meant nothing because whether he awoke in five years or five hundred, he would never see Dean again.
Even when he thought he was going to outlive Dean by millenniums, he never imagined the possibility that he would never see him again. He thought that even when Dean’s death day came they would still reunite in heaven with Father. Dean would be in his eternal dreamland and he would come and they would spend an eternity with each other.
But now… now…
Now that wasn’t going to happen; not today and not ever.
Dean was in hell; the best person that Castiel knew was in hell being tortured eternally by the most ruthless angel known to man.
Not for anything he did but because of something he did not choose.
If he’d been more careful during that battle he might have been able to save him. If only he’d watched his own back more closely, he could have saved him from Lucifer.
He was there after all, Dean’s body was pressed against his when he was impaled and Michael - the amazing big brother he is - allowed Dean to die on top of his chest. If he was not cursed he could have saved Dean, he would detracted the attack. Hell, he would have taken the knife into his own gut if that meant saving Dean’s life.
He would have given up anything to save Dean’s life, everything in his world.
Castiel walked ghostly through his room; he didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. For the past twenty years the only thing in the world to him was Dean. And now, all he could think about was Dean and all he could see was Dean’s face. But, Dean was not there anymore. His entire essence was destroyed by Lucifer.
He couldn’t make himself believe it - this was Dean. The same little boy with the angel face and cheeky smile that promised to protect within a couple of minutes of introducing himself. The same young man that openly wept after witnessing the deaths of people he didn’t even know. The same teenager that slyly fell in love with an angel and sealed the deal with his first kiss. The same man that made Castiel feel things that he didn’t even know were possible. The same person who loved Castiel with a passion that he never witnessed before.
He was gone…
Castiel walked toward his closet and immediately saw the Dastiel flower. It stood erect and large, lovely in its full bloom. And for some reason Castiel was reminded of a promise he made more than twenty-five years ago…
I promise, I will protect your son, Mary Winchester.
And he would. He could not let Dean stay in hell. He would find a way to get to him. He was going to rescue him from that place. If it was the last thing he did, he would save Dean. He was his husband; they were bound together for all eternity. Lucifer could not take that away from him.
He was going to go down therel - no matter how terrifying Lucifer has made it in the short five years since it’s creation. He was going to force his way through hell and he was going to send Dean’s soul where it belonged. He would not let Dean spend another second in hell, not as long as there was something he could do.
He could already feel the tears prickling his eyes as he turned and stared at his room. Dean never saw his room…
“Cas, when am I going to go over your house for a visit?” Eight-year-old Dean asked Castiel. He sat cross legged on his bed with a large book in his lap and an apple in his hand. He bounced it back and forth between his two hands with a small curious smile on his face.
Castiel looked away from the book he was reading and smiled at Dean. “I promise you, you’ll have no fun at my house.”
Dean pouted. “Why not? If you’re there, I’ll have fun.”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing there for you, just a bed, a lot of boring books and my crabby older brothers.”
Dean laughed out loud and continued tossing the apple back and forth. “But, it’s not fair. You’ve seen my room a bunch of times, friends are supposed to visit each other. And I don’t have any other friends!”
Castiel frowned and cocked his head to the side. “Why would you say that? You have many friends.”
Dean shook his head. “They all live here, you’re my only friend that doesn’t. Plus you’re my best friend and you’re my guardian. I want to have visit with you and your family!”
Castiel scowled playfully. “But, Dean, you’re my only friend. I have no other people to visit other than you and I like being here.”
Dean gasped openly and the apple dropped from his hands. He got onto his knees - the book falling from his lap and crawled over to Castiel. He placed his hands on Castiel’s cheeks - causing the angel to uncharacteristically blush and pull away a bit. Dean looked him dead in the eyes and peered sadly at him.
“I’m your only friend? That’s impossible, you’re Cas. You’re the best person I know; you must have so many friends. And if you don’t then I’ll find you some,” Dean said, determination in his eyes.
Castiel smiled. He lifted his hand and placed it gently on Dean’s arm. “I don’t need any friends other than you.”
Dean’s face lit up, he leaned in quickly and surprisingly kissed Castiel on the cheek. He pulled back with a small smack and smiled at Castiel. “Then let me come to your house, okay. I want to sleep in your bed.”
Castiel nodded. It would be nice invite Dean to his house; he could meet his brothers and his soon-to-be new family. Looking at Dean’s smiling face, Castiel knew he would have to invite Dean to his house soon.
Castiel snatched open his closet and the first thing he saw was his brown overcoat. His brothers had not washed it apparently because there was a large spot of blood - Dean’s blood - still on it. Dean’s hand print was still on the upper part of Castiel’s jacket and there were various splotches all over every other area.
Castiel raised his hand up slowly and ran it down Dean’s hand print. And he wept.