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Darling Don't You Know (Our Love Never Dies)

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“Ale please.”

The barmaid looked over at him with a raised eyebrow, but Dean paid no mind to it. He really needed to just get flat out drunk tonight.

After downing the jug of ale quickly so as not to vomit from the terrible taste it emitted, he sighed as he felt the sweet burn that comes from drinking alcohol. This is why he tended to drink so much. Not to maintain appearances or get wildly intoxicated every night, but to achieve that burn that always helped him to forget.

And tonight was ever a night to require forgetting.

While it was true Sammy and his father, John, seemed to always be in some sort of fight these days, tonight was a night for the books.

John was none too pleased when Sammy revealed that when he turned 18, he planned to become a poet.

His father’s responding words still echoed in his head like the chime of a bell. “You don’t know what you’re saying, son. Why would you want to pursue something as inane as writing when everything you need in life is already set up for you? You know what, fine, go off and write. But don’t come crying to me one day when you’re penniless and begging for scraps.”

John’s words stung even Dean, and before he tucked in his brother for the night, Sam had been a wreck, crying in his arms, and asking why their father couldn’t at least try to understand. Their father had never quite been the same since their mother died when Dean was 5. Grief had turned him cold and detached.

They were hunters, it was what their family line always took after. John’s favorite saying was, “As long as you have a bow in your hands, and animals to hunt and sell, you’ll never go hungry.”

But Sammy wanted more. And now their house would probably never know peace because of the ensuing chaos his brother’s announcement caused.

Dean sighed he as knocked back another swig of the bitter tasting drink, trying his best not to dwell anymore on the subject.

It was pretty late by now, the pub’s interior scarcely populated, nearly everyone asleep in their beds.

The last thing Dean wanted was to sleep, knowing that once he did it wouldn’t be for long, nightmares urging him awake from his slumber.

As he finished his first glass, he felt his brain start to relax slightly, and sighed. Unfortunately it took him quite a few jugs of ale to start to even feel a little bit drunk, a gift passed down to him by his father, no doubt.

He felt a man sit down on the stool next to him, and turned to look at him in surprise. Besides the barmaid, and an unsuspecting man getting swindled at the cards table by one of the village’s many thieves, the pub was almost completely deserted, a fact that Dean took comfort in.

Dean had been about to say something, but his mouth went suddenly dry as he took in the sight in front of him.

The man was a vision, with slightly tanned skin, dark hair, and eyes to rival the color of the ocean. He looked to be about 20 if Dean had to guess, which 4 years older than the boy himself was.

Noticing Dean flat out staring at him most likely, the man smiled and said, “Hello.”

Dean wet his lips, licking off the brief taste of alcohol lingering there, and said, “Hello,” back.

After a long stretch of silence, the other man awkwardly cleared his throat and asked, “So, what brings you here on this lonely night?”

Dean sighed and took another sip of his ale before replying, “Family troubles. I just had to leave.”

The man tilted his head, like he was some sort of owl or something, and said, “I’m sorry. That must be very hard for you.”

Dean awkwardly cleared his throat at the sentiment, and replied, “Thank you. What about you?”

The man laughed sadly and ducked his head. “It appears as though I’m running from something at home too. Guess that makes us similar I suppose?”

Dean smiled and shook his head. “Guess so.”






After about an hour of talking, Dean found out that the man’s name was Cas, and that he had an enormous family that all lived with him.

“I’m sorry, what? How is that even possible?” Dean gaped, setting down his drink.

Cas laughed and shook his head, responding with, “Sometimes we’re all crowded together close as sardines, but we make it work at the end of the each and every day.”

“Wow.” Dean expresses, finishing his 2nd drink. He barely even felt buzzed, but found himself not caring, now that attractive company was at his side.

And attractive he was. Dean knew he had always been interested in men, as well as women, a fact in which he took great lengths to hide from his father.

Cas was possibly the most beautiful man Dean had ever set his eyes upon.

As he took another gulp of his drink, he felt Cas’s eyes on him at the corner of his vision, watching his throat work down the liquid.


Steeling himself and taking a deep breath, Dean decided to take a chance right then and there.

Turning his body to Cas, making sure to block what he was about to do from the one old man sitting in the corner, reading a book, he flashed his most irresistible grin at the other man.

Placing a hand gently on one of Cas’s thighs, he spoke in a low murmur, leaning in not too close so as not to arouse suspicion. “What do you say we take this conversation back to somewhere a little more secluded?”

Cas flushed slightly, eyes dropping down to linger on Dean’s alcohol soaked lips, whispering back, “Yes, I would like that very much. Your place or mine?”

Finishing his drink quickly, Dean responded, “Yours. My brother and father are sleeping, and I wish not for us to awaken them with our…..talking.”

Cas nodded, face still pink, saying, “Very well. I apologize in advance for my home, it’s not very cleanly, I’m afraid.”

Dean shook his head, “It’s no problem.”

Cas paid for both of their drinks, despite Dean’s feeble protests. They left one at a time, after all, it would look suspicious, two men leaving a pub together at such an early hour. One could only imagine what they could be doing.

After waiting a decent 5 minutes, Dean left the pub quickly, slipping out unnoticed by the barmaid.

He barely made it 2 steps out the door, before being pushed up against a nearby tree, hot breath fanning across his mouth, back against rough bark.

“Do you know how delectable you are?” Cas gasped as his arms encircled Dean’s firm body.

Dean merely grinned and replied, “It has been said.”

Cas laughed at this, saying, “Be quiet.”

Dean leaned closer so that their noses were now touching, a sly smirk on his face as he said, “You are going to have to make me.”

Cas didn’t waste a second, bringing their lips together in a long-awaited kiss, sloppy at first, before mending into something more passionate.

As Cas’s tongue stroked along the roof of Dean’s mouth, he gasped. Cas tasted like the ale they had both been drinking, and he never thought cheap alcohol at some pub in the middle of nowhere could taste so mouthwatering.

Cas moaned as the kiss deepened impossibly more, and rocked their hips together in a slow grind.

After feeling himself start to harden, he broke the kiss gasping, “Wait, wait, hold on.”

Cas stepped back, and Dean could see he was just as affected by their ministries as he was.

Reaching up a hand to run through his hair, he said, “We can’t just do this near the outskirts of the woods. Someone could pass through at any minute.”

Cas merely swallowed and said, “You are right. Come, I’ll lead you to my home.”

The walk was short, but excruciatingly long at the same time. Despite how desperate both of them were at this point, they maintained a formal attitude, so if anyone happened to be around (a fate not likely), no one would suspect what they were about to do.

As soon as the door shut behind them, this time Dean was the one pushing Cas against the nearest flat surface and kissing him breathless.

“Dean” Cas gasped as Dean nipped at his bottom lip. “Bed. Now.”

They took a brief break to make their way over to the bedroom, Dean’s heart pounding through his chest the whole way through.

Collapsing onto his back on the bed, Dean stared hungrily at Cas as he procured a small bottle of oil from his nightstand. Cas then slowly sauntered over, and straddled Dean, knees on either side of the man’s waist.

It didn’t take long for their clothes to be stripped off and put in a pile on the floor, and Dean to get a slick finger into Cas.

“Sorry” He grunted out as Cas winced for a moment at the feel of the first finger. After a few moments, his body relaxed and welcomed the digit, head thrown back with a throaty moan.

Pumping the finger in and out at a faster pace, he added a second digit, making sure to curl his fingers in just the right way to find Cas’s prostate. It wasn’t his first time making love to a man, and by now he knew the best tips and tricks to make someone come.

“Oh!” Cas’s moans grew loader, and Dean knew he had just hit his prostate. Hitting the sweet spot again and again, he tried to ignore how sore his wrist was becoming, focusing entirely on Cas’s pleasure.

Not wanting Cas to come too early, he pulled his fingers out of the man, smiling a little at the needy whimper coming from Cas as he quickly prepped himself and paused at Cas’s entrance, waiting for his say so.

“Ready?” Dean whispered, and Cas nodded. He slowly pushed into Cas from below, until he was fully seated and waited a moment for their bodies to get adjusted to the feeling.

Getting impatient, Cas started to move, both of them gasping at the feeling the action emitted.

Dean grasped Cas’s hips as the other man began to ride him, picking up speed. “Dean, oh, please.” Cas whimpered as Dean’s cock began hitting Cas’s prostate directly now.

Feeling himself about to tip over the edge, he whispered out, “Come for me, Cas.”

Cas came with a shout, and Dean followed not so soon after with a muffled cry.

After a moment, Dean slipped out of Cas, and the other man got up from his position, leaving the room briefly and coming back a second later with a warm washcloth, cleaning them both up.

Crawling into bed, next to the spent Dean, he felt the older man smile as Dean rested his head on Cas’s chest, arms encircling him from the side.

The next morning when Dean walked back into his home, his brother and father were still asleep, so he decided to shake Sammy awake.

“Hey,” Sam smiled as he saw Dean. Noticing his fully dressed attire, his brow wrinkled in confusion. “Did you already go hunting?”

Dean just smiled and said, “Yes. Didn’t catch anything, though. Animals must be hiding today.”

The lie rolled easily off his tongue, and he started to think he could get used to this.





It had been 2 weeks since he met Cas, and ever since then he’d been sneaking out at every opportunity to see him at his little cottage in the woods.

Sometimes they laid together, and other times they just simply sat and talked. He learned more about Cas, and in turn, told him about himself. He also began to notice the little things about Cas, like his passion for poetry, and the certain way he eased Dean’s clothes off of him ever so gently whenever they made love.

He would be lying if he didn’t admit he was falling in love with the man.

Unfortunately, he had no idea if Cas reciprocated his affections. At least he knew Cas enjoyed their company together.





A couple of months later, he had a terrible fight with his father.

Sammy had snuck out and visited a peasant girl in their village, a lovely girl by the name of Jessica.

When John Winchester had found out, he’d been furious. Mainly at Dean for not keeping a closer watch on the younger boy.

That night as his father and brother fell asleep, he made his way over to Cas’s house, frustration and helplessness tingling beneath his skin.

Knocking urgently on the wooden door, Cas opened it a couple of seconds later, happiness at seeing Dean immediately swept off of his beautiful face when he sensed upset radiating off of the boy, no doubt.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, concern etching his features.

Dean let out a stifled sob that had been building in him since forever, and he launched himself into Cas’s arms, belatedly recognizing the door shutting a second later, as Cas guided him over to a chair.

Kneeling before Dean, Cas touched Dean’s face delicately, stroking his thumbs against the boy’s face as he said in a gentle voice, “Dean, darling, what’s wrong? Talk to me, my love.”

It all spilled out in one big mess. How he’d been taking care of his brother ever since their mother died when he was 5, his father’s constant pressure on him to take care of Sammy, and the way he never got to be a child.

Cas, bless him, just sat and listened, and after it was over, simply held Dean in his arms until the boy finished crying enough tears to make a small lake.

After a long stretch of silence where Dean was just content with Cas holding him and stroking his hair slowly, he spoke up, “It seems that no matter what I do, I’m just damned either way, in his eyes. I’ll never be good enough.”

Sniffling, Dean sat up as Cas’s hands made their way to his face once more, turning him so that he was looking into the other man’s eyes.

“It doesn’t matter what he says or does. You’re brilliant, and gorgeous, and strong, and smart. You’re so much more than you know. I-I love you, Dean.”

Dean smiled wobbly, overcome by the love he had for this man, and leaned in to kiss him heatedly, feeling safer than he’d felt for a long time in Cas’s arms.






After a passionate bout of lovemaking, they ended up in holding each other in Dean’s bed.

”I wish we could just run away.” Dean mumbled against Cas’s chest.

He felt Cas shift underneath him. “You really want that?”

Dean nodded and felt Cas’s fingers run gently through his hair, “Why not? Just me, you, and Sammy. I always wanted to see England anyways.”

Dean sensed Cas’s hesitation and moved out of Cas’s embrace to look up at him. “What’s wrong? Am I moving too fast?”

“No,” Cas replied, entangling their hands together.

“Then what’s the problem?”

Cas paused before speaking shaking his head as he said, “Dean… There are things you don’t know about me.”

Dean bit his lip and said, “I don’t care what you’ve done. All that matters is who you are, and I know with certainty that no matter what, I’ll still love you.”

Cas was trembling now, unshed tears threatening to fall from his eyes, as he urged Dean forward with a gentle hand on his cheek. “Come here.”

They made love for a second time that night, and as Dean fell peacefully asleep shortly after, guilt kept Castiel up for ages.






It all came crashing down a few months later.

Dean had just been drinking one late night in a pub, when suddenly the town crier burst in, waving a paper around wildly.

“Attention, attention! Prince Castiel has just announced he’s getting engaged to Princess Meg of Ludenberg! New information on the prince, plus a glimpse on what he looks like!”

Dean paid no mind to the news, finishing his drink, and about to order another, when the crier came up to him, shoving the paper in his face.

“Sir, I would really appreciate it if you bought a copy. My-well, my mother is sick with the flu, you see, and we don’t have much money to go to the apothecary.”

Dean dug around in his pockets for coins, until he found the appropriate amount, giving the boy extra. “Anytime, kid.”

Taking the paper, he didn’t pay much mind to it, until a familiar face caught the corner of his eye. Shifting his attention on the poor-quality image, he gasped when he recognized some familiar features.

“No, that’s not-“He squinted harder at the picture. Maybe it was just a similar looking man, or he was just seeing things.

Suddenly it all made sense. Why Cas was so reluctant to share anything about his past, or his family. How he never seemed to work in any way, hell, even the goddamn name was a giveaway.

Feeling tears rush to his eyes, he threw a couple of coins on the table, paying for his drink, before rushing over to Cas’s house, reasoning with himself that Cas must have an explanation for this. He ignored a man playing cards who warned him before he left, “Boy, there’s bandits running amok in those forests, be careful!”






Knocking angrily on Cas’s door, he strode past the man when he opened the door, spinning around on his heel to look at his lover.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” Cas asked, stepping closer to Dean.

“I don’t know, Cas, you tell me. Or should I say, Prince Castiel.”

Cas froze and stared in shock, as Dean continued his rant.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? God, Cas, how could you not tell me?

“I-I,” Cas stuttered awkwardly.

Biting back the bitter tears forming in his eyes, he got to the worst part of it. “And you’re getting married? To some rich princess? Was it ever real? Was anything ever real between us? Or were you just using me this whole time?”

Finally, Cas broke out of his trance. He reached out to cup Dean’s face, tears flowing down his cheeks as he exclaimed, “Of course it was real! It is real! Dean, I love you. I love you with everything I have. Please, just let me explain.”

“No, I can’t even look at you right now.” Dean choked on his sobs, and he turned away from Castiel, wiping his face on his shirt sleeve. His heart was broken now that his suspicions were just proven to be true.

“What about what you said that one night? That no matter what you’d still love me?”

Dean turned back to give Castiel once last watery glance before he left the cottage. “I do love you. Now, and forever. But this hurts too much right now.”

Shutting the door with a resounding slam, Dean didn’t look back to see Castiel sink to the floor with uncontrollable sobs.





It had been 30 minutes and he still wasn’t back at his home. It was dark out, and he couldn’t even see what direction he was going in anymore.

He was completely and utterly lost.

Sitting down next to a tree, he swiped at the still lingering tears remaining on his face. Maybe he could just fall asleep here and make his way back in the morning when he could actually see 5 feet in front of his face.

Suddenly he heard the telltale crunching of leaves being stepped on and shot back up to a standing position.

Remembering the man at the pub’s warning about bandits in the area, his breathing became ragged with fear.

Not thinking clearly, he began to take off into a sprint, not even caring if he was headed in the right direction at this point, just needing to get away, make it to somewhere safe.

Seeing a light in the distance, he began to run faster, hearing the bandits running after him from behind.

All that he could hear was blood rushing in his ears, and the words, “I’m going to make it,” stuck on a loop in his head, before suddenly something hard and heavy hit him, and then the whole world went dark.





The next morning, Castiel managed to lift himself out of bed, after a terrible night crying himself to sleep.

The first place he went to was the pub, not even caring that it was still the morning, his heart breaking even more at the memory of when he first met Dean here.

He had been downing his ale, when the town crier flung open the door, waving his arms around and yelling, “Attention, attention! A man’s body has been found in the woods!”

Castiel wasn’t focusing on the boy, until he heard 8 words that made his blood run cold.

“His name is said to be Dean Winchester.”

Murmurs rang all around him, but Castiel’s mind was buzzing, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe.

Stumbling out of the pub door, he made it 2 steps away from the pub before collapsing against a tree, sobbing, and clamping a hand over his eyes.

“No, why, why why.”

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe.

Dean was gone.





It felt like he just slept for months. That drowsy feeling when you dreamt for too long, and just managed to wake yourself up.

For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes. God, why did he feel so damn tired?

He could faintly hear voices talking above him in a hushed whisper, and he strained to hear what they were saying.

“Yes, apparently his lover lied to him for months on end.” The voice sounded female, and it had a lilting tone to it.

“Poor man.” He heard another voice say sympathetically. This voice sounded male, and he assumed they must be talking about him, because who else could they be talking about?

That was the last thing he heard before he sunk back into unconsciousness.






Dean gasped as he shot up, finally able to open his eyes, it seemed.

“Who are you?” Dean asked, voice raspy and underused.

There was a tall woman standing in front of him, her hair long and red, and her features strikingly beautiful. He noticed her nails and lips were scarlet like her hair, and he shrunk back in fear from this stranger.

“You don’t need to worry, darling. No one can hurt you anymore.”

“I said, who are you?” Dean asked once more.

The woman’s blue eyes flashed in annoyance, so quick Dean wasn’t sure if he had just imagined it, before assuming their sweet doe quality once more.

“My name is Abaddon. I know this must be a confusing experience for you right now, so I won’t take your rudeness so personally.”

Ignoring Abaddon’s little jab at him, he sat up and asked, “What happened to me? Where am I?”

Abaddon grinned and tapped her fingers at the base of her neck, “Here, there, everywhere. It doesn’t matter. But to answer your first question, you’re dead.”

“What?” Dean nearly shouted. His eyes widened, and he tried to remember the last thing before he heard the voices talking about him.

“Th-the bandits.” Dean stuttered out. “Did they……Kill me?”

“Yes they did, handsome.” Abaddon replied, lounging across the floor. As though she hadn’t just said those 4 words that changed everything.

“Once you’re done having the whole ‘I’m dead’ crisis, there are some people I’d like you to meet. I’ll leave you alone for now.”

Abaddon vanished in a cloud of black smoke, and he buried his head in his hands.

He was dead.

Oh, God. What about his father and Sammy? Who was going to take care of his brother now? He was all alone.

He tried to will himself not to cry, scrubbing fiercely at his eyes in desperation.

Maybe this whole thing was just some terrible dream, and he was going to wake up any second safe and sound in Cas’s bed.


He felt a huge wave of grief wash over him as he thought about the other man.

The last time they had spoken, it had ended in tears and heartbreak. That was how Cas was going to remember him now.

He felt like he was going to be sick, but oddly enough didn’t feel any hunger, thirst, or need for sleep.

Almost like he wasn’t even human anymore.

Rising from the floor, he called out to the empty white room, “I’m ready.”

He wasn’t so sure he wanted to meet these people Abaddon had talked about, if they were anything like her, but it was better than sitting here and driving himself mad with his thoughts.






Wiping at the tears that seemed to keep flowing no matter what he did, Castiel sighed as he made his way over to the cemetery.

It had been 2 days since he had heard the news of Dean’s death, and he had been avoiding going to visit his grave, out of desperation to believe this was all just a horrible dream.

He had been crying nonstop, so much so that his face was all puffy and red. Truth be told, he was still waiting to wake up.

Hesitating at the edge of the cemetery, he paused at the sight of an inconsolable young boy sobbing, his father beside him, arms encircling the boy in a comforting embrace. The man’s face was wet with tears, and the pair were standing over Dean’s grave.

“This must be Dean’s family” He thought to himself, as the pair, presumably Sam and John, left the cemetery, taking their path back home.

Making his way over to the headstone, he sniffled as fresh tears sprung to his eyes. He knelt in front of the lonely grave, barren except for a small sprig of dandelion, and touched his fingers to the cool granite.

“I’m sorry.”





As it turns out, Abaddon wasn’t lying when she said he had people to meet.

First there was the seductive Lilith, who Dean was pretty sure would eat him if she had the chance. Then came Crowley, who also seemed to be eyeing Dean up every chance he got, and had a charming British accent. Dean suspected there were more that weren’t in the room, but he didn’t get the chance to question it.

Lastly, there was Benjamin, or as he said to call him, Benny. He immediately took a liking to this man, given that he wasn’t like the others, who he half-heartedly suspected would slit his throat in his sleep, if he wasn’t already dead.

Benny had a rumbling Cajun accent, and gripped his hand firmly when they did a handshake. “Welcome to the club, brother.”

“Believe me, I wish I wasn’t here.” Dean looked awkwardly around. The group was situated in a dining room that gave him an uneasy feeling.

It was neither extravagant, nor dirty. It had no distinctive features or furniture. It was just plain.

It also scared the hell out of Dean, because it reminded him where he was.

He was never much of a religious man. Sammy liked to entertain the idea of heaven and hell and God, but Dean never quite believed in all that. Whatever happened after you kicked the bucket happened, there was no stopping it, and there was no point in worrying about it.

Suffice it to say, Dean was kind of worrying about it now. Clearly there was life after death, and he wasn’t so sure this was heaven. If it was, it was less than ideal for him.

Maybe he was just stuck. This wasn’t heaven or hell, it was some sort of limbo. Yeah, that didn’t make him feel better.

“None of us do.” Benny laughed, replying to his previous statement.

Scratching at a nonexistent itch on the back of his neck, Dean asked, “So, what exactly is this place? Why are we all here, I mean?”

Benny’s eyes danced awkwardly around as he struggled to find an answer, before saying, “Well, brother, this place is basically a pit stop before reaching peace. Unfinished business, if you will. We all figured out a while ago, that specifically, this is a place for people who were jilted in some way by their lovers when they were still alive.”

Dean’s blood ran cold at that, and he breathed out deeply. So this was some sort of limbo.

“So wait, does that mean I’m stuck here forever?”

Benny shook his head, “No, no, it just means that you have to find and fix your unfinished business before you can move on and truly have peace. I’ve seen it happen, people sort of come and go around here.”

Dean breathed out in relief. He truly did not want to be stuck here for the rest of his life. Or, well, afterlife.

“So, how would you go about finishing this unfinished business?”

“Well, you have to find a way back to earth and fix whatever is holding you back. For some folks around here it’s revenge against their husbands or wives. For others, it’s making amends. Depends on the person. For some reason, these people are especially stressed on the ‘revenge’ part of what I said. Don’t let them pressure you into anything you don’t want to do. It’s still your business at the end of the day, brother.”

Looking at the others, Dean shivered, wondering what exactly these people were planning to do for their revenge. He didn’t even want to imagine it.

Thinking of Castiel, he pressed a hand against his forehead as he pondered on him. He never did hear what Cas’s explanation was before he rushed out. And even though he had been hurt and furious that night, it dawned on him that he didn’t feel anger anymore, but an urge to know the truth of the situation.

“How can I get to earth?”






Sam had been staring out of the window of the Winchester’s cottage, face puffy from tears, when suddenly the glass fogged up.

Wrinkling his brow, he wondered when the weather got so cold all of a sudden.

Suddenly there was a squeaking noise as writing began on the perspired window. Sam gasped and jumped back as the message continued.

The words, “Hey Sammy” appeared on the window.

Sam’s eyes grew wide. There was only 1 person in the world that called him Sammy.

And he was dead.

“Dean?” Sam called out into the open air.

“Yes” was written underneath the original message.

No way. It was impossible. He was probably just hallucinating out of grief.


The next day, communication came in the form of a couple of words on a paper.

“Hang on Sammy, I’m here.”

Okay, there was no way he was making this up. This was physical evidence now.

“Where are you?” Sam asked, feeling a bit silly talking to himself.

No response came, and another day passed in anticipation.

The next day when he woke up, Dean was smiling as he loomed over a half-asleep Sam.

“Hey Sammy, it’s good to see you.”

Sam cried as he flung his arms around his brother, thoughts of sleep gone.

Dean hugged back, and Sam could feel it. He was here. He was real.

It was a miracle.

As they sat down in their small kitchen, Sam couldn’t stop badgering him with questions that Dean couldn’t answer fast enough.

Dean explained that he had been trying to get in touch with Sam for a while now, but it took some time for him to actually appear corporeal on earth.

Sam winced as Dean told him of how he died, and the process of waking up in limbo. His forehead creased in thought when Dean told him how he couldn’t truly achieve peace until he made peace with his unfinished business.

“So, wait, if you need to make peace with a lover who wronged you, why are you even there?”

Dean suddenly shifted uncomfortably, as his eyes dropped to the floor.

Sam sat up, realization sinking in. “Dean. Tell me.”

Dean started telling him about a man named Cas, how they fell in love, and that he found out that he was actually prince Castiel, leading to a fight.

“So that’s why you were walking around the woods at night.” Sam mumbled, it all making sense now. Dean’s frequent disappearances, how he was usually up before Sam, and why he looked so debauched when Sam woke up.

“So, you’re not disgusted with me?”

Sam looked up, anxiety written all over his brother’s face at his confession

Dean thought that Sam hated him for being in love with a man.

“Dean, no!” He said laying a hand on his shoulder. “I could never hate you. Especially for that. You’re my big brother. Besides, if we’re being honest here, I already knew about that.”

“You did?’ Dean asked, sitting up, worry erased from his face. “How?”

“Well, you weren’t exactly subtle.” He grinned, thinking of the way Dean thought that he was being so careful that Sam wasn’t noticing when he checked out the village men.

“But…Dad.” Dean said, sadness washing over his face.

“I think that dad knew too. And, you and I both know of his…..opinion about men being attracted to other men. But, you’re still his son, Dean. He didn’t care because he still loved you at the end of the day. God, if you could’ve seen him these past few days…” Sam drifted off.

He suddenly jumped up, grabbing his coat from a nearby chair. Turning to Dean, he said with a serious expression on his face, “We’re going to see him. Right now.”





John was of course, elated that his son was still, (somewhat) here on earth.

He had questions, of course, but Dean left out the part about Castiel, simply stating that, “If he was to achieve peace, he needed to finish some business first.”

John nodded at that, and didn’t ask any further questions about the matter. Something told Dean, he didn’t really want to know.

They spent the rest of the day at the hunting range, and everything felt like normal again.

As Dean tucked in Sam for the night, he grinned down at him, telling him to get a good night’s sleep.

“Dean?” Sam asked sleepily.

“Yes, Sammy?”

“I don’t want you to leave again. I don’t care if that makes me selfish, I want you to stay.”

“I don’t want to leave again either. If it was up to me, I’d stay here.”

“Promise you’ll still be here when I wake up?”

“I promise.”

And he was.





The next morning, Castiel made his way over to Stull Cemetery, as usual.

It had been 2 weeks since Dean died, and he visited his grave every day.

“Hi,” Castiel whispered, as he set a freshly picked dandelion down at Dean’s grave, hoping to one day get enough to make a bouquet of them.

“So, um, I called off the marriage to Meg today. She didn’t seem to care much, after all, we’ve barely seen each other since my father arranged it. But I just thought you should know.”

Cas shifted from foot to foot awkwardly as he willed the familiar tears away.

“God, I miss you so much. I don’t know what to do.” Cas choked on his sobs, finally allowing himself to cry.

He dropped to his knees as he rested his head against the gravestone.

“If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t even be dead right now. If I had just stopped you and told you why, you wouldn’t have rushed off in such an upset state, and been murdered by those bandits.” Castiel shuddered as another sob wracked his body.

“I still love you. I don’t know if I can move on. I don’t want to move on.”

“You don’t have to.”

Cas whirled around and stood up at the familiar voice. “Dean?”

Dean smiled shakily and said softly, “Hey, Cas.”

Launching himself into those slightly muscled arms he loved so much, he cried for a while, letting Dean just hold him, and stroke his back gently.

He didn’t ask why or how, or even worry if this was a hallucination. If he was going mad, he didn’t care if it meant Dean holding him like this.







Sitting back in that familiar, stiff chair, he had gotten so used to during the past couple of months, Dean, still holding Castiel’s hand, asked, “So, I know you must have a lot of questions right now.”

At Cas’s nod, Dean continued, “It’s a long story. But I’ll trade you mine for yours.”

Cas smiled, “Deal.”

Dean recalled the story once more, his death, the unfinished business, and how he reconciled with his father and Sammy.

Cas, in turn, finally told him what he wanted to the night of Dean’s death.

His father, King Chuck, wanted his son to be happy, but also rule a kingdom and maintain prosperity and his image.

Castiel couldn’t marry a man, so Chuck had set him up with Meg in an arranged marriage, while letting the fair lady know that this was simply to maintain the way the villages both saw them. This benefited both of them, so they could be with whoever they wanted to be with without fear of scrutiny and the public’s opinion.

Chuck had also bought Castiel a quaint cottage in the middle of the woods, to let Castiel finally live the life he always wanted, without the villages watching his every move. He occasionally returned back to the castle to attend the meeting and planning of his future reign when the time eventually came for him to rule.

To maintain his cover, King Chuck also went to great lengths to conceal the appearance of his son, making sure few people saw him or knew what he looked like, that way Castiel could live in secrecy in peace.

When Castiel had met Dean, he didn’t expect to fall in love with the boy. As he his feelings grew for Dean, he explained he had begun to feel more and more guilty about keeping his true identity a secret, and had been planning to tell Dean sometime soon, before Dean had found it out himself.

“I didn’t keep it a secret because I was ashamed, or because I believed you to be some sort of lover I kept on the side. I kept it a secret because I didn’t want to lose you, and I was so afraid of how you’d react.” Cas said reaching up to cup Dean’s face, thumbs gently stroking his cheeks.

Dean’s face was a mixed array of emotions, all ranging from realization to sadness. “God, I feel like such an idiot right now. I should’ve waited for you to tell me before storming out like that.”

“And I should’ve told you sooner. You had every right to be angry at me for not telling you, even if you didn’t know the truth.” Cas persisted. “But we cannot dwell on things we should’ve done. I don’t care what mistakes we both made, all that matters is that you’re here with me now. Somehow you found your way back, and I’m more than grateful.”

Dean met Cas’s eyes once more, and nodded. “Even after I left, when I was so angry at you and myself, and I couldn’t understand why, I still loved you. I never stopped.”

“I love you. As I’m sure you more than heard today at the graveyard.”

“I did.” Dean said, smiling. “But hearing it again never hurts.”

Castiel smiled back, and kissed Dean deeply. “I love you,” he said again, “I love you,” Cas said, now moving to Dean’s neck and nipping at his creamy skin, “I love you so much.”

Dean gasped as the kisses turned more and more sloppy, without precision, feeling himself harden slowly.

They moved to Castiel’s bedroom, so familiar to Dean, like a second home, never stopping to let go of each other, both of them afraid that if they did, it would be for the last time.

Laying Dean down carefully on the bed, Castiel left to get the oil, and Dean closed his eyes blissfully. The other man returned a second later, and they both began stripping out of their clothes.

Dean groaned as Cas’s finger slowly began prodding at his hole, the pain only lasting a second before he started begging for more.

Castiel added 2 more fingers, pumping them in and out, fingering Dean with as much love and care as he could, before carefully removing them, smiling as Dean began to whimper.

“Please, Cas.”

Castiel slicked up his cock, before nudging against Dean’s entrance, feeling the other boy’s impatience.

He finally stopped the torture, and filled Dean all the way, both of them moaning at the feeling.

Cas hesitated before slowly thrusting in and out, grunting and biting his lip in concentration.

Below him, Dean threw his head back with a moan, and clutched onto Cas’s biceps, fingers lightly digging into the meaty muscle of the other man’s arms.

“Love you.” Castiel said once more, leaning down to lovingly kiss Dean, pouring in it all of the emotions he had felt the last couple of weeks, his longing, devastation, and grief.

Dean answered back just as passionately, Castiel tasting Dean’s own longing on his tongue.

They both came not too long after, spent from the emotional toil it had taken on both of them.

“That was amazing…..What was that?” Castiel asked, turning to Dean.

“I don’t know.” Dean said, panting with unneeded breaths. “A connection, I think?”

Cas rolled over, looking at Dean with a soft look in his eyes, before climbing back on top of him. “Whatever it was, I want to do it again.”

A couple of intense lovemaking sessions later, Castiel fell asleep on Dean’s chest, sleeping soundly.

Dean had just been holding Cas in his arms, unable to sleep himself anymore, when suddenly he felt himself being whisked far away somewhere.

Dean gasped as he recognized the desolate room once more, and Lilith, Crowley, and Abaddon stood before him.

He noticed Crowley eyeing him up and down seductively, and belatedly realized he wasn’t wearing any clothes, still.

He didn’t have time to remark on it before Abaddon threw him a simple shirt and pants, snapping in a brisk tone, “We need to talk.”





When Castiel awoke some time later, he realized Dean wasn’t holding him anymore, and looked up to see no trace of the boy.

Ice cold venom ran through his blood, and he panicked, throwing on some clothes, and walking around his cottage yelling, “Dean?”

He started to hyperventilate, sitting down in a chair as he placed his head in his hands. He couldn’t lose Dean again. He couldn’t.

Helpless to do anything, he sat in silence and waited for about an hour, before Dean suddenly materialized before him, fully clothed and with a look on his face that made Cas’s stomach coil in anxiety.

“Dean, what is it?” Cas asked, leading him to sit down on one of the chairs.

Dean shook his head, biting his lip so hard, Cas almost thought it would bleed if he still could.

There were a couple of tense filled seconds that felt as if they lasted an eternity, before Dean finally spoke, the words shocking him out of his skin.

“They want me to kill you. And they said if I don’t, then they will.”






Dean’s body was still shaking from the encounter, remembering Abaddon’s exact words, and her silent fury.

He didn’t understand. Why would they do this to him? He didn’t even know them!

Cas was slightly shaking too, “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Dean said honestly, “They gave me 2 days to do it, until they do it themselves.”

Castiel started to rush his words something akin to a fierce storm, words slightly stuttering from panic, “What about that man you told me about? Benny? Can’t you ask him what to do? Why would they even do this? Why do they care?”

Dean shook his head, trying to figure it out. “I’ll try to see if I can get Benny here.” Thankfully shortly after explaining how to get to earth, and how it took a few days to manifest his form, the man told him how to reach him if he needed anything, or had any questions. All Dean had to do was reach out for the other spirit with his mind.

After a couple of minutes of trying to no avail to reach Benny, the other man popped out of thin air in a manner that would be almost comical if it weren’t for the situation at hand.

“Dean, what is it?” Benny asked with confusion about where he was.

Dean hurriedly explained the situation, noticing how it was getting darker outside. The more time wasted, the worse off they would be.

Benny angrily began pacing up and down the length of Cas’s cottage. “They have no right to do that, who do they think-“Benny broke off with a deep sigh.

“Why would they do this?” Dean asked, desperate to know the truth.

“Because in their eyes, it’s their way or nothing at all. They’re all filled with so much bitterness and hatred at what happened to them, it’s turned into something twisted and evil. They are truly evil people. They think that you’re just foolish, and want you to murder Castiel to achieve your peace. They want you to get revenge on him.”

“I just don’t understand why I’m still here if I’ve made my peace with him. Isn’t that my unfinished business?” Dean asked, confused.

Benny shook his head. “No….no, there must be more. Maybe your business is protecting him against these spirits. To keep him from any harm they’ve set against him.”

Dean put a hand to his forehead. “I’m not going to harm him. I don’t care what they threaten, I’m not killing you, understand?” He said, turning to Cas, and grabbing his hand.

Cas nodded, and said, “I know.”

“I know I don’t know you, brother, but these guys have been a pain in my ass since I first died, and I’m not averse to finally getting a chance to fight against them. I’m with you. And I know a couple of friends, good people, to help you too, who feel the same as I do.”








The next day was filled with worry and anticipation with what would happen.

Dean never left Cas’s side throughout the whole ordeal.

More spirits began showing up at Cas’s house, friends of Benny’s.

There was Joanna, who liked to be called Jo for short, Garth, and Victor. Dean liked all of them, and he could see why Benny did too.

They readied themselves for what would come, and prepared for a fight.

The next day, Abaddon, Lilith, and Crowley materialized in the cottage, Castiel glaring at them all from behind Dean.

“So, still haven’t killed him, huh? Well that’s too bad for you, and good for me, I guess. I always did like a morning treat.” Lilith grinned wickedly.

“Now, now, Lilith, make sure to save some for me.” Crowley said in a lilting, sing-song voice.

“Both of you, shut up!” Abaddon snapped, and both Lilith and Crowley flinched at the chastisement. Abaddon focused her attention on Dean. “Now Dean, I thought we discussed this, if you kill him, we won’t have to for you. I’ll give you once last chance, because I’m such a generous person. Kill him.”

“No. I’d rather die again than ever considering killing him, and I swear to God, if you so much as touch him, I will kill you.” Dean spat out.

Abaddon sighed in faux disappointment, but Dean could see the excitement to kill in her eyes. “Fine. You’ve given me no choice, I suppose. Just know that I’m doing this for your own good, darling.”

Abaddon barely moved 2 steps before suddenly she was lit from the inside with what looked like fire, and was able to give out a blood-curdling scream before crumbling in a heap of ash, fancy, red corset all that was left behind.

Lilith and Crowley gave each other matching shocked looks before disappearing together, presumably running away.

“What was that?” Dean asked in confusion.

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t me.” Garth said.

“Me neither.” Victor responded.

Suddenly a figure appeared in the center of the room, engulfed in a heavenly glow of white light. Dean covered his eyes, and waited until the light died out to open them again.

No one said a word, the room doused in silence before he heard Castiel ask from behind him, “Father?”







King Chuck stood before the group, in all his glory, and Cas was frozen in shock before the words, “Father?” Found its way past his stiff lips.

Chuck smiled and turned to him saying, “Hello, Castiel.”

“W-what-what are you doing here? Who are you?” Castiel asked, uncomprehending anything that just happened.

Chuck merely sighed, and moved closer, stepping over Abaddon’s ashes, proclaiming, “I’m your father. Who also happens to be God. Which, well, makes me all of your father’s, I guess.” He said, chuckling a bit to himself at the joke.

No one laughed.

“Anyway, I came to banish the evil I’ve sensed has been amiss a while in the spirit world.”

“What about Crowley and Lilith?” Benny asked, voice coming from behind Castiel.

“After what they just witnessed, I doubt they will give you any trouble from now on. Consider this me giving them a second chance.” Chuck shrugged nonchalantly, his royal robes flowing from his small frame.

“Does that mean that I have to leave now that I’ve finished my unfinished business?” Dean asked, shaking slightly. Cas placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Chuck looked at him in confusion, “What? Now where did you ever get that idea from? Who said anything about having to leave?”

“B-but, what about what you told me?” Dean asked, turning to Benny.

The other man just shrugged, saying, “That’s just what we all assumed. People left after they finished their business, no matter if they wanted to or not.”

“Actually, that’s not accurate at all.” Chuck said, holding up a finger to stop him. “People can only leave after they finish their unfinished business, yes, but have you ever stopped to wonder why all of the people who still want to stay on earth with their loved ones are still here? It’s because they didn’t want to leave. I don’t force you to leave, unless you want to leave. Whatever else you assumed, you all made up in your own minds.”

“So, that means I can stay?” Dean asked, excitement shining in his green eyes.

“Of course. Like I said, it’s of your own free will. After all, I want more than anything, for my son to be happy. For you all to be happy. When you decide you want to leave, you can leave.” Chuck said, smiling at Castiel.

“Thank you.” Cas silently mouthed to his father.

“You’re welcome.” Came the response in his mind.






The next day found Dean, Sam, and Cas making their way to the hunting range. Sam was babbling absentmindedly about Jess, as Dean and Cas walked behind him, fingers laced together.

After Chuck left, all of the spirits left shortly after too, telling him to keep in touch if he ever needed anything, Dean and Cas had silently slumped to the floor next to each other, still processing all of the information they just learned.

Cas was, to be frank about it, pretty shocked as hell that his dad was God. To get his mind off of it, Dean suggested that they go meet his brother.

Sammy and Castiel had immediately taken an instant liking to one another, the younger boy’s eyes lighting up when Castiel mentioned his extensive book collection, promising to bring some over for Sam when he had time.

The conversation had drifted to other things, and Dean found out that Castiel had never learned to defend himself, since he was a prince after all. After that, they all agreed to go to the hunting range in a whirlwind decision.
All in all, it was a pretty exhausting day. Dean was just glad he didn’t have to leave his family and Cas.

Finally reaching the range, Dean wrapped his arms from behind Castiel, chin on his shoulder as he positioned his gun at the target. He could see Sam roll his eyes at the gesture, but could tell he was happy for him.

“Now, just hold your arms like this,” Dean said, adjusting Cas’s arms in the correct position, “Pull back the trigger, and let go.”

“Dean?” Cas asked, turning his head slightly to look into the boy’s green eyes.


“I love you.”

Dean smiled, “I love you too.”

Castiel let go.