curseboxes | {dirtnap} God & Death walk into a bar ...

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{dirtnap} God & Death walk into a bar ...

There are about 200 different ways to possibly release Death from imprisonment. Regardless of the method, the very act of releasing him will break a seal - it is Death's release that is the seal itself, not necessarily the method of his release (though some of those are seals in themselves). Unfortunately, given that the Death of old has retired and Dean Winchester has taken his place, releasing him is not even close to a question. So Castiel will just have to be careful.

There is a reaper standing by, watching him skeptically, but there is little she can do other than watch and wait for her new master to be set free. She has been significantly weakened by her own imprisonment, and though Castiel had offered to restore her strength she had adamantly declined his assistance. She does not seem particularly inclined to trust him in regards to her own well being, though she does seem to trust him with the task of getting Dean out of the mystical prison he's spent the last quarter of a century in.

Things are needless to say, a huge goddamn mess.

Castiel speaks the last few words of the incantation and finishes the spell with the sacrifice of newborn calf. He feels the bonds keeping Dean trapped snap, and then pulls open the magically sealed casket and looks down at the figure laying within.

"Hello, Dean."

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"Dean ..."

It was so like Dean to assume that all news was bad news. He'd been given ample reason to believe that way, Castiel didn't blame him at all, but then he wasn't really sure how this would be taken either as it wasn't really good exactly. He steps closer, personal space never meant much, but now it means even less.

"The last time we spoke you said something to me. It's been the only thing that's allowed me to get through the last century. I never responded properly and I had always intended to."

It's not hard to remember what he said - he can remember everything with near perfect detail these days. Dean doesn't want to, though, because it wasn't a good memory. The last time they'd talked had been a mess, and he'd rather leave that whole set of memories alone, so he shoves that back, and grimaces a little.

Cas is up in his personal space but Dean doesn't step back; it's normal, hell, it's more normal than anything else, to be honest. Dean smooths his hand down the front of Castiel's jacket, tugging with a crooked smile. "Dunno why you'd wanna dredge that up. Shit memories, Cas." Because he'd done everything but bare his soul at the angel, and it'd done nothing. Cas left, and Sam was gone soon after and the sting of it still ached years later.

Cas nods, lets his thumb drag itself down Dean's face. He's had so long to think about that, how he just left. In retrospect he realises he might never have seen Dean again and it's absolutely terrifying to him. What's worse is what it must have felt like to Dean for whom the time would have passed with a human's perception. It's surprising that Dean doesn't respond to him as if he is a stranger.

"Because I had never meant to stay away so long, because leaving you was a mistake, because I meant to respond. Everything you said that day, I have thought about it over and over again for decades and I feel the same way now that I did then: everything you said, I feel it too. I know I left and that I haven't been here. When you died and I lost you, I never hated myself more for anything than not staying that day and telling you that what you said to me was important. That it was you that broke through the conditioning Naomi had me under. I want you to know those things, and I want you to know that I am so sorry. You deserve so much more than I have offered you."

Dean hasn't shaved at all, but he doesn't have a ridiculous beard, thank god. It's fuzzy, just a little, but only barely so. The nice thing about this, he supposes, is he can pick what he wants, and it takes barely a thought. When Cas' thumb strokes there, he pauses, and he's clean-shaven, just like that. It's weird, but kind of welcome that everything is that easy, now.

He isn't sure what he's expecting, though; Cas to give him more bad news, to admit to something awful, to brace him for more things he doesn't want to think about. He's not sure, really, but what comes out of his mouth, well, that's unexpected entirely.

Swallowing hard, Dean drops his hands to his sides, not quite looking at him. "Cas, don't. It was-- you know long ago that was."

"For you, perhaps. Not for me. I've lived so long what does a century mean to me? And the way I have behaved ... having had this time apart it has only driven into me how much I do need you. And what that means." And what it meant when Dean had said it, rather than what he had always assumed - that while yes, he was someone Dean considered a friend he was also a necessary tool. He had been so ignorant.

There's a million different cliche sayings he could give him that would apply here. Don't know what you have til it's gone, he thinks, and doesn't say a word, because the pettiness is mostly gone, leaving him just relieved that this isn't as bad as it could have been. Dean adjusts Castiel's jacket over his shoulders, straightening his tie with a crooked smile, and shrugs. The apology helps, but that doesn't mean it doesn't still sting, just a little.

"It was shit for everyone, Cas. But-- thanks."

At least he's smiling, so it's something, but Castiel still feels somewhat hollow. He had always thought well of himself, never had reason to question or doubt and he has just fallen so low. He will never understand why his father has constantly brought him back from death, constantly allowed him to commit such travesties, and then charged him with overseeing heaven in his stead. Castiel has had more second chances than anyone deserves and he will have to live with his failures for the rest of eternity it seems. He thought he needed Dean to hear what he really felt in order to alleviate the ache inside him, but apparently that is not the case.

Perhaps this is punishment after all. How has it taken him a century to understand?

There is a flicker of strong emotion in his eyes, an unending sadness, and then because Castiel has never been good at hiding what he's feeling, he merely drops his hand and looks away. "I expect that you will want to see Sam as soon as possible."

Cas is trying. It's not good- hell, it's not perfect, but it's a start and Dean is trying really, really hard to be grateful for it, because they're friends. And he's had a helluva time lately, and he wants to try and fix this, wants things to be a little less shitty and a little better, so shoving it all down and thinking about it later is going to be the only option.

"Yeah. I'm-- yeah." Not that he doesn't believe you, of course, it's just because he really, really wants to check on his little brother. He has to.

Castiel understands that and doesn't begrudge him the need to do so. "I need to return to heaven." He has a room full of angels to deal with. "When you're done checking on Sam ... well. It's been too long between us, and you know you are welcome anywhere I am."

It's probably redundant giving Dean an open invitation to heaven, but he isn't sure what else to say or do, and he knows that Dean and Sam will need time to themselves.

Yeah, he gets that. Heaven's probably a royal clusterfuck right now; Dean nods jerkily, and gives him a slightly strained smile. He's not looking forward tot his, looking forward to doing it alone even less so.

"I'll bring Sammy by for drinks at the pearly gates, huh?"

Castiel nods, always happy to see Sam, but honestly ... "Maybe we should just meet somewhere on earth if you're bringing Sam along. Not that he's unwelcome, but if I have the two of you I imagine I will be more than ready to escape myself."

He manages to offer Dean a genuine wry smile, because Dean knows what angels are like, and Cas knows he knows. Cas doesn't do well with bureaucracy now much better than Dean does.

"Don't stay away too long."

"Been forever," Dean says wryly, and straightens his own jacket a little idly, like he's not sure what to do with his hands so he rolls with this.

He pulls back and tries for a smile, but finds that's harder than anything right then.

"Stay safe, you hear, Cas?"

Castiel considers this a moment and nods slowly. "If I get into trouble, I will call on you." It's what Dean has been trying to get Cas to do from the beginning, and Castiel has always gotten the answer wrong until now.

There's more to say, more to do, but now is not the time or the place and time is something they both have plenty of now. Still Castiel can't help but leave Dean with one last thought, something which Castiel isn't sure how he will react to. He has had more than ample time to consider this though, and it is one thing he is sorely sorry he has never done before. He steps forward, places his hands on Dean's face, and kisses him firm but gentle. He holds the kiss for a moment and then steps back, fixing him with a look both gentle and sad before disappearing before him without so much as the sound of wings on the air.

Dean nods, relieved. At least that's something. He wants Cas to know that he can do that, know that he can call on him if need be.

He readies himself to leave, since all it takes is a quick thought and then he's good, only to have Cas stop, look like he's about to say something. His lips quirk faintly, head tipping back to regard him. "What's up-" he starts, only to have Cas come in and slam his lips against his, and wait what the fuck is going on. Dean makes a startled noise, gaping like a fish out of water and then Cas is gone, that son of a fucking bitch.

He vanishes a moment later, off to check on Sammy, and it's nearly a day or two later when he attempts to call Cas again, testing to see if a prayer works, and if not, then he pops up there in an instant.

It works, because unlike his predecessor, Castiel is a much more attentive god - or more attentive heavenly babysitter, whatever it is he's become. He appears moments after Dean calls, and and looks around his surroundings curiously before focusing in on Dean.

"Yours I presume?"

Well, it's an improvement over the last guy. Dean leans against his kitchen table - it wasn't really hard to get a place, fake paperwork, fake names, the whole nine, wasn't hard to fake money, wasn't hard to pop in and out and decorate. It's small - just a one bedroom, but it's got a decent sized kitchen, and the living room is plain, but neat.

He shrugs, glancing around it a little self-consciously. "Yeah. Figured I ought to have a place."

Castiel nods and moves a little further in the room. He stops a few feet away from Dean and nods approvingly. Dean has never had a true place of his own. It's high time he got the chance to experiment it.

"How was Sam?"

"...He says good," Dean says, like he's testing the words out in his mouth, like he doesn't believe them. He closes his eyes a moment, because he wasn't really able to reconcile the idea of Sam liking that, not with how awful it is. But he'll trust his little brother, because he seems... well. Normal. Okay.

Dean swallows, grimacing. "We'll see."

"You have plenty of time for that, I expect." Castiel knows in time Dean will adjust. He's relatively good at adjusting so long as he's not being pressured to do so. Considering Dean is now effectively the most powerful being in the universe, he doubts that will be an issue.

"And you?"

There's still the elephant in the room of the kiss, but he's not touching that one with a ten foot pole right now. "Yeah. Nothing but time." Which doesn't really settle in well with him, not really. Dean moves to the fridge to get himself a beer, and hesitates a moment, glancing back.

"You want a drink?"

Castiel nods. It's not like either of them need to drink these days, but Castiel has found that food and drink is more than just sustinence. It is about taste and comfort and routine and yes, those are things he could stand to have right now.

"Yes, please."

They don't need to, but Dean finds some amount of comfort in the fact that he can still do it. He snags two beers, and passes one to Castiel, uncapping them both before he does it.

"Sam's...reorganizing. Looks better. Less-- torture, down there, which is a good start."

"He's running it like a law firm, or so he has told me. I don't really know what that means but I expect he knows what he's doing. He seems to be getting on with it relatively well."

Cas takes a drink of the beer and watches Dean where he stands. He knows eventually that Dean is either going to address the kiss, or it will never be brought up again - unless of course Castiel attempts it again, which is of course something he is still trying to figure out for himself.

A law firm. Yeah, Sam'd mentioned that, and it was just so painfully Sam-- just like him to be quiet and earnest and trying to reassure him that it's okay, he's okay, but how are you, Dean, you look like h-- wel, you've looked better.

Dean takes another long swallow of his beer, drains a good half of it, and closes his eyes for a moment.

"So you gonna explain what happened?" Don't worry, champ, he'll talk about it. Awkwardly.

"I thought we had discussed what you'd missed already," Castiel starts off seemingly obtuse, but then he looks up and meets Deans eyes and looks oh, just the slightest bit guilty. "Or were you referring to when I kissed you?" And he knows he is, but he's mostly buying time. He's not really sure what to say about it.

{dirtnap} God & Death walk into a bar ...

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