Chapter Text
Your presence is foreign, as strange to me as a thing.
I think, I explore great tracts of my life before you.
My life before anyone, my harsh life.
The shout facing the sea, among the rocks,
running free, mad, among the sea spray.
The sad rage, the shout, the solitude of the sea.
Headlong, violent, stretched towards the sky.
-Pablo Neruda
The pounding on the door echoes around the room as Dean tries to catch his breath, still clutching at his aching chest. He tries to focus. Cas has turned away from the door now, blood dripping from the cut on his palm.
Death is coming for them both. Because of Dean, because once again he was too stupid, too brash, too angry. It's his fault, they’re going to die here and he can't do a damned thing to stop it.
But why is Cas looking at him like that? as the room settles and his focus returns to his best friend. Gazing upon him, face free of panic.
Cas is speaking now, with an absence of fear Dean doesn’t understand.
He is about to lose everything, and he knows he should be trying to devise a plan or at least search for some kind of last words. Try and leave this world with at least an attempt to lift the weight on his chest; alleviate the vice on his still beating heart, even if just a little.
He should apologize again, properly, in person. He owes Cas the strength of his words, not just desperate prayers. There is so much he has done wrong; Cas deserves to hear it.
But Cas is already speaking.
He made a deal.
Why does it always have to be a deal? Some hastily made bargain that is never worth the cost.
Why is he telling him this now?
Why does it look like Cas is crying?
Deans not sure he's ever seen Cas cry. Not from pain, or sadness, or fear, not even from anger though the last has seen his face often, no thanks to him.
Dean just doesn't understand. Maybe Cas is trying to beat him to the punch. Some kind of Hail Mary before the door’s warding is broken and these last stolen minutes together cease.
But this doesn't sound like an apology, or deathbed regret.
Cas is speaking of happiness and deals, and how He thinks He knows.
"Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it."
Saying what? Dean wants to ask. Looking into Cas’s open face in bewilderment. He can't be saying that, can he? And as he looks into his friend's face, Dean thinks that maybe he is, in fact, saying that. That a worn out, used up, sorry excuse for a man like him, could be worth any more than the time it takes to pull a trigger, to ruin everything he touches with ruthless efficiency and a go getter attitude.
No, he's definitely not worth that.
But he thinks he knows?
Destructive. Angry. Broken. A weapon. The great driving forces behind his life, how he has found the strength to stand again and again by using these, his worst traits, to fight and die for something better than him. Letting blows fall against the husk of a man, whose death is minutes away from outliving his life. Yes, for love. Love for a world that deserved better and a brother who deserved better, and an angel who deserved better, and Dean loves him for it, Cas sees him for what he is.
Well-articulated words had always been difficult for Dean. They often were for Cas as well. Cas, who had so much love, understanding and knowledge within him, but often fell short when trying to find the correct context for his sentiments within the human scope.
"You changed me too," he wants to say.
The moment grows stale.
"Why does this sound like a goodbye?"
Because it is? Because it is? Cas is saying this, and all he can do is stare. Why, why? it's gotta be clear, Dean knows it does. If he could just focus. You would think a person with as much experience in violent life or death situations would have the ability to process information under pressure, but then again Dean isn’t sure anybody has ever spoken to him in such a heartfelt way, and certainly not in the middle of a battlefield.
It's the deal right? Cas is trying to pull something outta left field for them. Take out Billie, give them a chance at the real big bad; Chuck, waiting out there to catch Sam and Jack unaware. It's stupid and impulsive and reckless, and exactly what Dean would do if he had a single ace left hidden in any possible sleeves. But he doesn't have one, and he doesn't think he's going to appreciate whatever Cas is pulling.
Cas’s eyes haven't wavered, and Dean can't look away. He feels hazy, there is a sickness settling over his heart, in the place left in the absence of Billie’s grip.
Cas looks at him fiercely, through tears. His soft smile tears at Dean's insides.
"I love...." Dean interrupts.
"No.... Stop it Cas. This is not happening."
How could he say something like that to him, when the only reason is as a way to leave.
He's never been above begging, not when the occasion calls for it. But right now, he is filled with anger, blooming, and dangerous. That Cas would leave him again, on purpose, like all his words mean nothing more than a lost dream. It is unacceptable to him, totally unacceptable.
He feels desperate. This can't be it, there has to be a way to abort it. There has to be another way. He refuses to accept the sacrifice. He can't even begin to accept that Cas would feel love like that for him. Love, from a being that is older than he can even begin to conceive. Who has seen stars form, watched the creatures pull themselves from the sea, existed as wavelengths of light, sound and colour; that not only can he not comprehend, but which would literally destroy him to comprehend.
All that's left for him to do is to try and prove that to Cas. Prove he isn't worth his love, not worth his happiness, not worth dying for. Prove he doesn't actually love Dean, not like that; Dean can't be his happiness. He must make him understand. Even if it's false, even if he thinks Cas’s words would ignite within him something akin to joy, if it didn't feel like shards of glass were being pushed into his ribcage. He has to stop this, by any means.
The words burst free of him, and he knows it’s not gonna be pretty.
"That is the most fucked up thing you have ever said to me.” He’s set on what he must do, outright committed now.
"You don't mean it! You don't even know what love is. How could you even say that to me?" he yells to Cas’s face, desperate.
Cas is clearly shocked by the outburst, a look of doubt flicking across his face.
The sliver of hope is tantalizing. No matter all Cas’s talk of selflessness and love, Dean knows what He would give, and what He would willingly take away. To have him, to not have to do this. His worth is not equal to an angel's love, it is not equal to this angel's death.
"You don't Cas, you don't know how"
His mind is racing. What words can extinguish happiness? He doesn't need to live with it, he just needs Cas to.
Because he is a selfish man, and he would rather have him.
"You aren't even human," he tries out.
"You know, it's pathetic that you think that is even a remotely appropriate thing to say to me," he forces out the clipped words, watching Cas’s face for a reaction.
"How dare you use me like this. You're just like the rest of those junkless dicks. You just want me for what I can give you. You don't care about me. Just because I'm your new favorite toy, what gives you the right? How long until you get bored?"
"I've never been more disgusted by you. This is the worst thing you've ever done to me."
It aches, but he doesn’t care, not if it works. "You can't. You wouldn't. Just stop." he pleads. Is it enough?
“You stupid, selfish bastard.”
Cas shrinks back further; his eyes slip away from Dean's. The absence of his gaze feels like a bitter victory. He looks confused, uncertain.
Dean tries to muster up any more spite to hurl, but he's done. It's going to have to be enough.
"Just… don’t," he quietly says, and that's all he has left.
Cas seems to be processing slowly, the words taking time to sink in.
But the Empty hasn't appeared, and though the finer points of the deal may be lost on Dean, he is inclined to take every second of this tense silence as success. Had it worked? had he gaslit enough? Had he filled Cas with enough self-doubt to question his own convictions? On the ‘being’, on how to hold his love?
It's then, as Cas looks to the dungeon floor that Dean remembers Billie. The door glows, hit by another blow. Seconds stretch further, between Cas’s declaration and the Empty's continued absence. It leaves Dean with a grim sense of satisfaction. A totally worthless win if the door is about to cave in.
"Can you strengthen the warding?" Dean asks, hoping to snap Cas out of his stupor.
This is not the time for regrets, and Dean has never been one to criticize the effectiveness of a swift low blow anyway, not when it gets the job done. He can feel like the piece of shit he is later, when he has a sad, pissed off friend rather than a dead one.
Cas seems to resign himself to it. His plan has failed, and Dean can see fear there now, beside the hurt, as the blows to the door pick up momentum and Cas looks upon Dean with the realization that he might not be able to save him after all. Dean's not sure why he would want to.
"Can we bind her?" Dean asks quietly, trying to brainstorm. He is not willing to die now. Hurt Cas for nothing, to have that failure follow him into death.
"I don't think so Dean. You needed the fulgurite last time." He finally replies, dragging himself back to the moment.
He seems to be present, if not fully. It's not an easy thing, being pulled back from the brink of righteous sacrifice. Only to realize a well-placed bump has poured all your good intentions straight onto the cold stone floor, leaving you with nothing.
He looks up at Dean, not quite a man, not quite an angel. uncertainty and frustration line his face.
"I'm not sure what to do," Cas whispers.
Dean can't stand it, hurting him. Causing that fragility. He wants to scream. Can't Cas see h isn’t worth it?
“You have to warn Sam, warn Jack. Just make a run for it. Leave me here, I can hold her off long enough for you to get away. They need you man.” And he wishes it would be enough to convince Cas, but he knows it won’t be.
"What? and leave you here?" The glare hits him hard, and Dean can see life returning to his eyes.
He wishes he would just take the push and go, save himself for once. He knows it's futile, he may have successfully derailed Cas in ‘being’, but Dean knows he's not about to win a battle regarding the merits of his own suicide mission.
"No matter what you think of me, I will not leave you here to die alone."
Dean sighs. "Well, I'm not going down without a fight, and I'm sure as hell not going to just lay down and take it."
"What do you propose we do Dean?"
"Element of surprise, it's all we've got Sunshine," Dean attempts a cocky grin.
Cas’s glare intensifies, though still shaken.
He definitely deserves it. He really should have the self-respect to feel at least a little guilty about it, but if that's all he can give Cas, he's gonna give it.
"Whatever ridiculous plan you have, you had better tell me before my warding fails." Cas’s face is set in stone, resigned but not unwilling.
Dean thinks it's laughable to consider anything he pulls out of his ass right now a plan. But it sure beats waiting for the axe.
"The only thing we have right now is the element of surprise, she's not going to expect us to face her head on again." Deans committed now, maybe if he goes down quick, Cas might actually flee and find Sam.
"Hell, hopefully whacking that door is at least speeding up the bitch’s demise with that little flesh wound she's sporting."
"So that's the ‘plan’? run into danger headfirst and hope for a miracle?" Cas looks somber
"You got a better idea? Speak up"
Cas glares at him again, as if to say ‘I did’ but it passes quickly, and he just shrugs and turns to the door.
"Well, we better get to it before that breaks then"
Dean scans the room quickly and grabs one of Crowley's brain probes, left on top of torture storage; the cabinet wedged into the corner near the door.
"We just need to get that scythe back, we almost had her in the library." It's not much but he can at least attempt to muster a little strategy.
"Cas, I'm going to time the knocks? Ok?" he says as he walks towards the door, warding starting to flicker.
He looks Cas in the eye "On my count, ok? We're going to try and catch her on the downfall of a knock. Swing the door open right? it's gotta throw her off at least a little. That's when I go for her shoulder with this," he says, brandishing the metal tool.
"And that's your opportunity, you hear? Get that scythe and slice the bitch. Way I see it, we've got one shot, ok? You with me Cas?" Dean asks
Cas just gives a terse nod and moves to stand by the door.
Dean slides beside him and as another impact falls and the warding sparks again, he silently counts them in and at what he prays is the right moment yanks the door open.
He catches her at the precise moment he had hoped for. Close enough to a blow that it's too late for her to correct herself from the force of collision. It's the overcompensation Dean had banked on, and as her hand falls forward, he lunges.
He can't believe this might actually work. He slams himself forward. The probe finds its mark, and as she flinches Dean pushes. With his left shoulder he forces her back across the hallway. His right fist follows, holding the probe and pressing with ruthless force into her wound. As they slam into the wall Dean feels Cas brush by him, and then he is there, pulling the scythe from Billie's grip in one smooth precise motion.
Billie looks at Cas and laughs
But it's not a laugh of victory, it almost sounds hysterical, unhinged.
"Is this how it ends? Killed by the broken angel twice?" She seems to find it quite funny. Or, maybe, it's just one of those moments. Where if you didn't laugh, you might cry.
Cas doesn't stall. He steps behind Dean, as he continues to push her body back into the wall and the probe digs itself deeper into her rotting flesh. Cas has nearly completed his maneuver now and wastes no time in finishing it.
With the scythe in hand, taking solid and precise aim at her exposed stomach, he sinks the blade into her guts. Billie groans as the weapon pushes in and falls forward onto Dean. He takes a step back and lets her drop to the floor. Cas pulls the scythe free and moves back, pulling Dean with him by the arm. Unwilling to trust this, not until she takes her last breath.
From the floor she shrugs "Well it was worth a try at least, eh boys?" Then she's gone. Disintegrated into dust, to seep back into the fabric of the universe. Shroud hung to await the next reincarnation of Death.
They did it.
They fucking did it, Dean can't believe it. They are walking away from this. His ‘plan’ actually worked.
He turns to Cas and grins, grabbing him to pull him close. He gets to keep it, one last crisis of his own creation averted. He exhales softly against Cas’s shoulder, as he attempts to crush him with the force of his relief. Cas is stiff in his arms, and it settles in him then. This isn't really a ‘win’ at all, what did they really achieve? They killed something that didn't need killing, while leaving Sam, Jack and everyone else vulnerable.
He just had to use everything he had, to not only invalidate Cas’s love, but to convince him he was what? delusional? wrong? impossible to love? The only person unlovable here was Dean, because love wasn't owed to someone like him. Someone who would use it as a weapon. Who would prevent his best friend from ever being happy, if it meant not losing him. That wasn't love, it was evil.
He pulled away guiltily, he doesn't deserve comfort from Cas. But he still refuses to regret it, as selfish and manipulative as he knows it was, he refuses. Because at least Cas is here, and maybe, maybe there's a way to fix it. Break Cas’s deal, come clean.
But first they need to get to Sam, warn him. No use staying here, those words bloated between them.
"Come on Cas," Dean says, starting down the hallway towards the garage.
"We need to check on Sam and the kid, get them up to speed."
He doesn't look back, but he hears the steady fall of steps following behind as he pulls out his phone on his way through the bunker.
He dials Sam quickly and breathes out a sigh of relief when he answers on the second ring.
"Dean! What happened? Did you get her?" Sam asks frantically over the line.
"They're all gone Dean, it's not just the people who aren't meant to be here. She took Donna too."
"Slow down Sammy, I know. Ok? It's not Billie. Its Chuck, it's always been Chuck"
Sam's silent for a moment on the other end, Dean thinks he can hear an angry mutter in the background.
"I don't know what to do Dean" Sam sounds desperate, and Dean doesn't know either. But whatever it is they will do it together.
"I don't know Sam, we're coming to meet you now, ok? Where are you guys?
"I'll send you the GPS coordinates, hang on."
"Ok, see you soon Sam" Dean listens to Sam's quick farewell and then stashes the phone back in his pocket. Walking through the garage now he quickly jumps in the car and digs for the keys, waiting for Cas to join him.
Cas walks in a few minutes later, movements slack. Dean doesn't have it in him to tell Cas off, he looks to defeated.
He gets in the car slowly and pulls the door shut. Pulling away from the bunker Dean shoots a sidelong glance at Cas. He is sitting stiffly as he stares out the window at passing scenery, deep in thought.
Dean wishes he could fix this, but it terrifies him. One wrong word and they could be back in that place, all over again. Because what if it worked? and Cas realized that ‘being’ could be enough, and even if Dean didn't tell him. Tell him that ‘having’ was something he hadn't even let himself dream of. But that Cas could have had him, and it's gone now, without even the space left to grieve it. Because every move they make will be draped in fear now, shadowed by the Empty. So really, nothing has changed at all, they can't have this, no matter what either of them might want. All that's really changed is the weight of Dean's words, damaging the love they could share.
But he has to say something. Anything, to fix it, even just a little.
"Look Cas, I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, ok? you're just...you know, and me. I ain’t worth it man." He sighs "I don’t want to lose you Cas, you don't understand what it does to me. I just can't, ok?"
Cas looks over, a little confused, a little pissed off too by the look.
"I don't understand you Dean. According to you I'm too stupid to understand the nuances of these kinds of emotions, yet you still elect to ‘humor me’ with what? a shallow apology?"
Yes, he's definitely pissed.
Building up some momentum now, he continues, "Have you decided you want to continue to play ‘pretend’ with the weird cosmic entity, who helps you out because it doesn't understand what it is, or what it feels? or who I am?" Cas pauses to collect himself for a moment before going on.
“You and I both know I am not just any angel, anymore, and to think you could be so stupid as to convince yourself otherwise...” his face is drawn, annoyance clear.
"You continue to do everything in your power to live up to your worst traits, and it is not endearing, it's not who you are, and I don't believe it for a moment."
He looks at Dean now. "You caught me off guard before. But know I meant it Dean, and I will not be schooled on my perception of reality by a human."
Dean freezes, is he actually that stupid? that angry? that would he say it again when there's nothing they can even gain from it. Cas does look way too angry to possibly be approaching happiness though, which does give him some small semblance of relief.
"Are you even listening to me?" he asks "I can't lose you Cas. No matter what, I refuse to do this without you, I don't care what the cost is." Trying his best to get the message across, he needs Cas to get it. Afraid of skirting the truth like this, but the need for Cas to understand is too strong for him to ignore. Dean just needs him to calm down; to forget about this.
It almost looks like it might be dawning on him then. Maybe more than Dean would have liked. He really hopes Cas has the good sense to not think too hard on it. He needs him to drop it. Definitely not safe practice to dwell on.
There's no way it could be a good thing, Cas realizing Dean outright lied to his face; rather than just being an emotionally constipated asshole.
But Cas looks thoughtful, and Dean is afraid. The fear that filled him in the dungeon is creeping back.
"Ok" Cas finally says, giving Dean a curious look.
Dean looks back, reluctant to give him anything more. Cas looks physically and emotionally drained. But the fear slowly leaves Dean once more, as the moment continues to stretch between them.
It feels safe now, just for this collection of seconds as they rumble down the highway towards another battle.
He thinks to himself, "I have you, and that's all that matters," before focusing back onto the road, ready to put this behind them. But nothing's ever that easy, a soft sound, a slight shift in his peripheral vision, and that's it.
Cas is gone.