Theme Prompt - Wait

It was finally over. Metatron was safely locked away in Heaven’s dungeons and Castiel had unlocked the gates of Heaven. Well, not Castiel himself but he’d suggested it. The other angels had taken it for an order and reversed what Metatron had done. All the souls that had been stuck in the veil were slowly being ferried up into Heaven, the place stretching to accommodate each soul’s personal heaven. But one soul was missing, the one soul Castiel dearly wanted to see. He’d waited as long as he could in Heaven, studying each soul as it appeared with a Reaper at its side. But none of them were Dean. And finally, Castiel couldn’t put off visiting anymore. He had to say goodbye because maybe, just maybe, Dean’s soul wasn’t coming here. It seemed ridiculous and Castiel had scoffed away the thought as soon as it came. After everything Dean had gone through, it seemed like the worst kind of injustice that his soul wouldn’t come here. Yet, Heaven was not always filled with justice. Perhaps especially when it should be.

Avoiding the other angels was easy, the work of merely walking quietly past. Castiel had adamantly refused any role that put him in a leadership position. He didn’t want to lead, he didn’t want to be God. He only wanted to be what he was, a single angel who’d put himself in the role of protecting humanity from his brethren. Hannah nodded at him as he left, her eyes full of sympathy. Everyone had heard Metatron’s boasting, had heard that he had killed Dean Winchester. They’d all heard the tremble in Castiel’s voice when he’d revealed his plan and most knew how he felt about Dean. Those that didn’t before Hannah asking him to kill Dean knew at that point. Some still slanted disgusted looks at him. Caring about a human of all things, putting that human above your family and your orders? They didn’t understand nor did they want to. But as long as they left him alone, Castiel didn’t really care.

The door to Heaven that Gadreel had guarded worked both ways, something Castiel was thankful for as he still didn’t have his wings. The stolen grace had given him enough power to fly for a short time but it hadn’t for a long time. Even now, it flickered inside him, nearly on the verge of disappearing. The stolen grace wouldn’t last much longer but Castiel was sure it would wait long enough for a final goodbye. Maybe, somehow, he’d end up here again. Where angels went after they died was something he’d never considered, never thought he’d have to. Even the times he had been killed were blanks, nothing filling the moments between his death and his resurrection. A small part of Castiel hoped that wasn’t what death meant for angels; nothing was rather terrifying.

He nodded cordially at the two angels guarding the doorway back down to Earth. They wore young vessels, both male, and both had wide-eyed, surprised expressions on seeing him. They still let him pass, though, and without conversation. Maybe they understood why he was leaving and where he was going. The trip back down to Earth was the same as the trip to Heaven, a sensation of flying accompanied by a blindingly white light. Castiel stepped down from the square of sand the sigil had been drawn on and nodded again to the two angels guarding the entrance on Earth. They were masquerading as mother and daughter, the younger of the two vessels swinging on one of the swings to one side of the park. His car was still parked neatly in the parking space he’d pulled into, not that long ago.

Climbing into the driver’s seat, Castiel pulled out the cellphone he still couldn’t decide if he liked or not. It seemed an annoyance when he had been used to just speaking telepathically with his brethren. Yet the little device had kept him in contact with Dean and Sam, had brought him a small comfort hearing Dean’s voice and the little smile when he’d make a joke. The sudden thought that he would no longer hear Dean’s voice through the phone made Castiel clear his throat hastily. Crying was still very much new and he didn’t like it much. That was one thing he was sure of. Dialing a number from memory, Castiel waited until the line picked up on the other end.

“Hey, Cas,” Sam’s tired voice came over the line. He sniffed quietly, obviously fighting back tears of his own. “Heaven doing good?”

“Things are slowly returning to normal, yes,” Castiel replied, struggling to keep his voice even. He had no idea how much it would hurt to hear Sam’s voice, to hear the pain in the younger Winchester. “The travels of the souls stuck in the veil is thinning. Most have gone on to their rest.”

“And Dean?” Sam asked after a pointed silence. “Did you see Dean?”

“I looked but I did not see him,” Castiel sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. He’d wanted to go looking since the moment Metatron had told him Dean was dead. Other things had come up, though, until a few days later. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’m coming to the bunker. Since I didn’t see Dean’s soul, I wanted to come down here to... say goodbye.”

“See you soon, then,” Sam murmured, choking off the words. He hung up quickly, though not fast enough for Castiel to not catch the sobs that ripped out of his throat. To be honest, Castiel felt like howling his grief to an uncaring Heaven. Swallowing down the tears and the screams, Castiel turned the car on and drove off. The trip to the bunker was made in silence; he still hadn’t quite gotten used to listening to music while driving. Another thing that reminded him of Dean as he’d always had music playing.

Sam met him at the door to the bunker, wiping at red and swollen eyes. A determination filled his eyes though. Castiel couldn’t find it in him to enquire about that. Just knowing that Dean’s body lay here, cold and silent, pushed everything else from his mind. Though he did pull Sam into a tight hug, letting Sam shudder against the weight of sobs he’d been holding in. They both needed the comfort, Castiel holding on just as tightly as Sam did. Sam pulled away first, wiping at fresh tears before mustering a small smile.

“He’s in my room,” Sam told Castiel, nodding towards the hallway. “Take as long as you need. I’ll wait out here. But how did you know? I couldn’t get through on your phone.”

“Thank you, Sam,” Castiel murmured, patting Sam’s shoulder in a sympathetic gesture. “Metatron told me. He was... gloating about it.”

Sam nodded and Castiel walked away, feeling a curious emptiness overcome him. It almost felt as if someone else’s body was walking through the bunker, someone else’s hand pushing open the door to Sam’s room. Castiel had been steeling himself the whole ride to the bunker to see Dean’s body, reminding himself over and over that Dean’s soul lived on and his body was just a vessel. But none of that mattered as he pushed open the door and his eyes fluttered closed to deny the sight just a few seconds more. He stepped in and closed the door behind him carefully, delaying even more. But then Castiel had to turn and open his eyes, had to show himself the reality.

“Hiya angel,” Dean’s voice said cheerfully. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, studying Castiel with a little smile on his face. His eyes swept up and down Castiel’s body, something they’d done so many times before. Castiel felt warmth steal over him at that; he enjoyed Dean looking. Then a cold shiver replaced the warmth. Everything was wrong here. Everything about Dean and his eyes.

“Dean, what have you done?” Castiel whispered as he wrapped his arms around his stomach. It was a wholly human gesture but one he couldn’t have stopped even if all of creation rode on it. He could see inside Dean, see his soul thanks to his stolen grace. Could see the black smoke and twisting tendrils that once was a white soul so bright it had guided him through Hell. Could see eyes once the green of a shadowed forest turned completely black. “How did this happen?”

“Seems like its an extra gift from the Mark,” Dean replied lazily, standing up and sauntering over to Castiel. Castiel stepped back unconsciously, eyes sweeping over Dean’s eyes and the darkness his soul had become. Dean stopped barely a foot away from Castiel, leaning in as if to kiss him. “What do you say, Cas? Like the new me?”