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His eyes twitched restlessly beneath his sockets.
Images of burning, people covered in wounds and sacrifice of his friends bled into his vision; finally his eyes burst open. The vessel – what kind of word is that? – his body felt heavy like there was lead in his bones. Rolling his tongue, his breath felt stale and dry. A yawn broke past his chapped lips.
“Mom? Dad?”
No one answered.
Slowly, he pushed his legs out of the side of his bed. The tips of his toes tingled and his head rushed at the movement. How long had he been asleep? It seemed like an age.
Something dull shifted in his chest. An ache, strong and pulsing, that subsided after a few shaky inhales of breath.
“Mom?”
He stumbled clumsily to the door of his room, tripping over the little army soldiers that littered his floor like shrapnel, rubbing his hand lazily over his eye. He followed the hallway to Sammy’s room, where the soft gurgles of his baby brother could be heard from here. Mom said he’ll be able to hold him soon; he hopes he’ll be a good big brother...
Unlike the man from his dreams. He stopped near the doorway. Within the barriers in his head, a clawing and burning ripped across his mind. It hurt to think, so he pushed the door to Sam’s room ajar and crept inside.
Fear crashed through him.
A man was bent over Sam’s crib, muttering words and placing a finger to Sam’s forehead. He was taller, much more so than Dad; his form was scrunched uneasily over Sam’s lifeless form under the blanket.
The tan fabric flapped as the man turned.
Dean was no longer afraid.
For what felt like an eternity, the boy and the man were held in each other’s eyes. Stepping forward, he made a grabbing motion with one hand, the other shyly rubbing his face.
“Cas?”
The man’s face broke into a soft smile, holding a thousand endearing memories and an eternity of wonder at the human before him.
Bolder now, Dean stepped again, Cas reaching to meet him there.
“Your eyes are still reawy bl-blue Cas.” He felt stupid stumbling over his words, he knew what Cas was. Well, at least he thinks he does. In his dreams, Cas is the Superhero who saves everyone.
In fact, he’s pretty sure that God was in his dream too... But Cas will always be the hero, even if he got broken along the way.
The man spoke now. “Hello Dean.”
Gently, as if afraid he would break him, Cas lifted the boy into his arms; a feeling of impending dread swept through Dean. He clung to the stubbly neck like a lifeline, whispering prayers and fears into the atoms that made up the long tan trench coat.
The man was mumbling something back, awkwardly mumbling and bobbing him up and down in his arms. Despite being overwhelmingly sad, he felt contentment as well.
Sam chose this moment to moose squeal with all the power of his tiny lungs.
The floorboard creaked.
Suddenly, Dean was clinging to the railings of Sam’s crib on shaking legs, eyes bolted shut.
“Dean, sweetheart, what are you doing up?” The coo in her voice was a balm the made his eyes spring open.
He ran forward, clutching at the soft cotton of her gown and sobbing into her arms as she lifted him up.
“Hey, hey, hey. Sammy’s been getting better. It’s you we’ve all been worried sick about.” She pulled him away from her, warm eyes and gentle smile on her features.
“I’ve missed you Mom...” He cried, snot dribbling down his face in a miserable gooey streak, “So much.”
“Well, I’m glad! You’ve been out of it for the past month, baby!” Pulling him close again, she left Sam’s room, humming the melody of ‘Hey Jude’ in his ear. The tears slowly turned into a trickle. He had no idea what she was talking about.
“Your Dad and me were so worried. First Sam... Then you.” She huffed, “Angels really must be watching over you.”
Punctuating it with a kiss on his forehead, she wrapped him back into his covers. “Sleep, when you wake up you will feel better.”
He watched his Mom leave with wide eyes.
He didn’t want to sleep. Either this was a beautiful dream (insert Djinn here) or it worked and he’s in his own Heaven.
Peering in the darkness, his eyelids felt heavy and they started to close. The noise of a flapping coat no longer woke him, simply lulling him further into sleep.
“I failed you the first time Dean, I will not do so again.”
Dean knew that gravelly voice and strangely dressed man would follow him for the rest of his life. He hoped they’d be as close as they were in his dreams.
Castiel whispered under the pale streaks of moonlight into the boy kings crib. "You will grow to be a great man someday, just like your brother. You will remember your losses and cherish your wins. You are loved Sam Winchester, by your family and angels alike. You are feared Sam Winchester, by the things that used to go bump in the night." Focusing on channeling the remaining grace from God, he fixed the disease spreading a wildfire through the babies body. The rise and fall of his chest became steadier. He smiled.
He held the young Dean with as much restraint not fly away with him as he could. The way he parted with his Dean had been catastrophic. It had ripped a piece of him out and sent it smoldering into ash. This boy, Dean of another time, had residue of his past life. Cas' heart jumped. Mumbling the thousand promises and declarations in Enochian, he hoped that Dean would someday forgive him.
For giving up the last of his grace to give the world a second chance.
For leaving him... When he'd finally asked for him to stay.