Work Text:
"I had all and then most of you, some and then none of you."
Sam wrapped his arms around Dean- around Dean’s body, because he was dead, he was gone and there were no take backs this time, no more miracles left, no more debts owed, nothing and no one. His knees hit the cold, hard ground beneath him and he cradled what was left of his brother in his arms.
All of a sudden, the sound of enormous wings hit the air. Sam looked back around frantically, eyes finding a wild-eyed Cas who looked even more desperate than him.
“Dean!” Came the angel’s frantic shout. “No! Not yet, not yet…” He muttered wildly. Sam was still reeling from Cas’ appearance, but last week Dean had finally managed to tell him about what Cas said down in the basement, before everything went to hell. He watched Cas rip Dean’s shirt open, watched him press his hand hard against Dean’s still chest. The glow began in his palm, but nothing else happened. He held it there long after it had become obvious it wasn’t going to work. Sam broke again, fresh tears rolling down his face.
Cas screamed wordlessly in rage, in frustration and in agony. “No. No. No. Not yet,” he growled to himself. “I believe Death has barred me from resurrecting Dean again, but I…”
An idea blossomed in the depths of Cas’ too-blue eyes, Sam could see the wild desperation there. He wrapped his arms around Dean’s body, closed his eyes, and with another flap of heavy wings, they were both gone. The police had taken the boys, there was nothing he needed to do now. Sam decided to sit, and to wait. There was nothing else left for him in the world anyway. If he wasted away, died sitting here in this barn, well… It wasn’t like Dean was there to stop it anymore, was he?
Cas clutched Dean’s body to his chest, crushed it to him really, and embraced the sensation of air, of the universe and even time itself flowing around him, bowing to his whims as he flew back… back… back…
He landed hard, having not time traveled for nearly ten years, having not even had the capability for six or seven. There were alarmed shouts around him, but he didn’t care. He remembered this place well, he had thought. But on his knees in the dirt here, a strange echo to the place he had just departed… The smell of the air in his lungs, the freshness of the night breeze out in the country, away from the various manufactured smells of the rural areas. All the signs, the sigils and symbols painted on every inch of the barn’s walls… It called to him, like a strange homecoming. It made sense though, in a way.
This was the place he had first met Dean Winchester. This was where he met the reason he had tolerated his billions of years of existence.
Cas recognized the shoes in front of his face. Oh, how well he recognized every inch of those black shoes, the laces weaved perfectly between the eyelets… Jimmy’s attention to details had been incredible. Castiel tore his gaze away from the body in his arms, to look up at the man in front of him.
His previous self looked down at him in shock and confusion. Off to the side, Bobby had his shotgun pointed at the ground between them, but his focus was taken on Dean’s body cradled in Cas’ embrace.
His eyes traveled slowly over to Dean, and oh… how youthful Dean’s face was back then. Back before the decade of trials he would endure in the wake of this meeting. Green eyes were wide and shocked, bright in that beautiful way they always seemed to be, even on the worst days and in the blackest moments, Dean’s eyes were so bright.
His eyes went back to himself, his previous self… His younger self, because this was the first time he had noticed the differences between the vessel in front of him and the vessel he was in. Cas had aged, his vessel had aged. For a few moments he thought it strange, angels didn’t have to age, so why had he? But then he looked down at the man, the body cradled in his arms and the younger man standing in front of him, and oh…
He had aged because Dean aged. He had begun aging at some point after his fall, when he had made his choice to be loyal to Dean above all others. Dean was mortal, Dean would age and die eventually. Cas had hoped he would die an old man. It didn’t occur to him until now that, though he knew he wanted to stay by Dean’s side throughout his life, that his desires had reflected themselves outward in his appearance. He had been aging with Dean. His desire to grow old with Dean had reflected itself outwardly, and the impossible had happened. Cas had gotten older.
He grabbed the hand of his younger self, placed it against his own skull, and begged.
“Please, please,” he sobbed, tears dropping to the coat his Dean wore. “I can’t, I’ve been barred… But I think you can. It’s too soon, I can’t… Please…”
The tears were burning his throat, burning his eyes and welling over. There was a band around his chest that refused to let up, that was only constricting tighter and tighter. Younger Dean was watching on with curiosity mixed with alarm. Bobby had an air of tenderness about him, looking at Cas much the way he had in the months before his death, on that awful last day he saw Bobby when the Leviathan took over. Bobby looked down at him with the same expression that he wore when he looked at Sam and Dean. He looked at Cas like he was another son, another wayward orphan he had adopted into the fold.
Younger Castiel knelt in front of him, looking clean through him with eyes that pierced his being. Suddenly, he understood what Sam and Dean meant when they said it felt like he was looking through their soul. His younger self was looking at him in much the same way. His younger self was looking at Cas like he was human… Like he was a human with wings. Maybe he was, at this point. He didn’t want to lose his wings, to lose the powers his grace gave him, it was too much an intrinsic part of his being. But by the same token, he didn’t remember the last time he felt fully, undeniably like an angel. It was probably before he had fallen in love with Dean.
Bobby ended up on his other side, one arm around Cas’ shoulders like he wasn’t a total stranger. He hadn’t even exchanged words with Cas’ past self yet, but here he was in the dirt treating Cas like he was a son. When he looked to the side, he realized it was because of Dean, the way he was cradling Dean’s body like it was precious, begging his younger self to save him, to bring him back. Bobby didn’t know Cas, but he saw the man he called his son dead in his arms, he saw the way Cas held him and cried for him. That was all it took for Bobby to know, to realize.
Dean, younger Dean, was standing back now, looking at his older self lying dead in the arms of the angel he had just met, looking back and forth between them frantically, like he was trying to figure something out. Cas knew that was exactly the case, Dean had been on a hell of a journey of self exploration and acceptance throughout the years. The difference between how young Dean viewed himself and how older Dean did, was vast and shocking. Young Dean couldn’t make this sight fit within his current view of himself, but it would make sense to him in time, Cas knew.
Younger Castiel had placed his hand in the center of Dean’s chest, and the glow started in his palm, extended outward and his eyes lit up from within. Cas could feel his power recognizing itself, could feel the way it flowed through Dean’s body in the way his had been forbidden to do, and oh, but he could feel his younger self calling Dean’s soul back down, back into his body where it belonged.
His power crackled through the air and his eyes were fixed on Dean’s face, abnormally ashen with his eyes sunk back into the skull. Because he was watching so closely he had the privilege of watching the life bleed back in, the color returning when his heart began beating again, his muscles coming back to themselves and supporting the tissues again. The first breath stuttered hard, seemed like it didn’t want to go in immediately, but ultimately it did. The rhythm of his heart hopped around a bit before settling, and it took a minute of steady breathing before Dean’s eyes opened. It was slow, dazed like he didn’t think it was real. Given how he had died, Cas wasn’t surprised. He knew Dean wasn’t expecting another comeback.
He blinked slowly in confusion, and his eyes first fell on his younger self who had been drawn to the action, kneeling in the dirt on Cas’ other side. The amount of confusion that bled into his expression would have been funny under any other circumstances, but right now Cas was just nervous as all hell, considering the last time they’d seen each other. Dean’s eyes flickered around to Castiel and a fond look entered his gaze.
His eyes fell to Bobby next, and that was when Dean managed to haul himself upright, off Cas’ lap and he had to admit he grieved the loss of Dean’s weight against him instantly.
His departure wasn’t for nothing, however, and they all looked on as Dean swept Bobby into a crushing hug. Bobby closed his eyes, understanding bleeding into his expression instantly, and his arms wrapped back around Dean and held on tight. Bobby wasn’t the first to let go, he knew better, he let Dean hold on as long as he needed to. When Dean finally released him, they all pretended to not notice the tears welling in his eyes. "God, I've missed you... dad..."
The word pushed the breath from Bobby's lungs, and he was beyond words.
Finally, Dean turned to Cas, looking utterly bewildered. It seemed like he was trying to get a grasp on what happened, and Cas took pity on him.
“I was in heaven with Jack, he asked me to help… I felt Sam, I felt his… his anguish. Death, I believe, barred me from bringing you back again. I tried, I tried Dean,” and he felt himself begging Dean to understand, “But it wasn’t working and I couldn’t… I couldn’t lose you again so soon Dean, I just couldn’t.”
Dean nodded, lost for words but the agony in Cas’ voice dug at him and he leaned in, closed his eyes and rested his forehead gratefully against Cas’. “No more leaving,” he implored. “No more leaving, no more deals, no more dying. You understand?”
Cas rested both hands softly on Dean’s waist, eyes closed just like Dean’s. “I understand, Dean. I understand.”
His hand found its way up, cradled the side of Dean’s face tenderly. He ached, oh how he ached to lean in, but he knew better. In front of people wasn’t the place to do it, but Dean got the message anyway. He understood what Cas wanted, but he didn’t pull away. He stayed there, eyes closed and head to head with him, breathing each other’s air and neither pulling away. Dean loved him.
Dean was humming then, quietly and meant for just the two of them, not their audience who had tactfully retreated to a corner while the two of them had their moment. It was a soft melody, sweet and haunting, and then the words hit the air with an aching softness.
“Oh, take me back to the night we met,” Dean sang quietly, released into the scant air between them.
Later on, when they were alone he would have to ask Dean to sing the rest of the song. He thought it would probably be incredibly fitting. He would also, perhaps, tease Dean about finally listening to music that had come out after he was born for a change.
“Let’s go home, Dean,” Cas told him softly.
“Sammy,” Dean remembered suddenly.
“Yes, he’s quite distraught.”
Dean sighed and let his hand weave into Cas’ when they stood. Young Dean and Bobby took the hint and approached them again, Castiel trailing in their wake and following their lead. Young Dean’s eyes were fixed on where Dean’s hand was wrapped around Cas’, but Bobby had a comforted expression on his face. Seeing Dean with the beginnings of gray hair, holding hands with someone he loved, it was all he wanted for him.
Dean let go of Cas to wrap Bobby in another crushing hug that lasted longer than most did between them. Cas shook hands with Castiel, and then young Dean offered his hand to Cas, somewhat uncertainly and still wide-eyed. He seemed reluctant to turn and look at Castiel.
Dean finally released Bobby, who clapped a hand gently against the side of his face. “You give Sam my best now, you hear?”
Dean nodded. “Of course, he’ll be…” He wasn’t able to finish the thought, but Bobby understood. Dean stepped back next to Cas and their hands wove together again, under young Dean’s watchful eye and Castiel’s curious one.
Another wave of massive wings, and then Dean and Cas were gone again.
“You know, it’s a really nice night out for a walk,” Bobby said evenly, putting his shotgun down. He clapped a hand against Castiel’s shoulder like they’d known each other for years. “Welcome to the family.” With that, he turned and left the barn with a smile on his face.
Young Dean turned and looked at Castiel with wild, confused eyes. Castiel returned his look, seeming even more lost than Dean was.
Cas was more braced for flying through time now, and landed with his feet on the ground instead of sprawling into the dirt. It also helped that Dean was up and on his feet too, instead of chilling deadweight in his arms.
When they hit the ground, Dean needed a moment to orient himself, and in that moment before his eyes found Sam, Sam’s eyes found where their hands were intertwined between them and he grinned. Their hands reached out in sync, meeting together in the middle and pulling equally. Sam was pulled up from the ground and into Dean’s arms all in the same motion, and Sam tried to unobtrusively dry his eyes on Dean’s shirt while he was there. The rough, calloused hand in his hair told him it had been noticed, but he really didn’t give a damn.
“I wasn’t ready to lose you Dean,” Sam told him softly. They pulled back then, and Dean clapped a hand gently against the side of Sam’s face exactly how Bobby had done to him earlier.
“Well don’t worry, we’ve got a quick-thinking angel on our side.”
“Where did you go, anyway?” Sam’s question was posed equally to both of them, but it was Dean who answered with the faintest touch of a blush staining his cheeks.
“He took me back to the night we met.”
There was a computer on the desk, open but with the screen turned away and a soft melody coming from the speakers.
“C’mere,” Dean implored Cas quietly. He held his hands out and Cas stepped gratefully into them.
Dean moved his hands into place, one on Dean’s shoulder and the other clutched in Dean’s, held out slightly from their bodies. Dean’s hand found the curve of his waist and tugged him close until they were chest to chest. It wasn’t until Dean led them to sway that Cas realized what was going on. When Dean’s eyes closed Cas rested his head against Dean’s while they moved slowly in a circle together.
Partway through the song, Dean’s baritone swept in.
“When the night was full of terrors,” he began softly, “And your eyes were full of tears… When you had not touched me yet, oh take me back to the night we met…”
As much as Cas didn’t want to cut off Dean’s voice, wishing to listen to him sing forever, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer and greeted “I had all and then most of you” with a slow, tender kiss brushed against Dean’s parted lips.
Dean’s next breath shook in his chest, and his hands cradled Cas’ face like it was something fragile, something precious.
“Touch me, Cas,” Dean whispered.
Cas’ hands were dancing across his skin, lips worshiping Dean’s body the way he used to worship in Heaven, but this was so much sweeter and so much more worth his devotion.
"Take me back to the night we met."