what you need is a good coda
Yippie-kai-yai-yay motherfuckers, it’s post-10x14 coda roundup time. I hunted them down, I read them, and I did it, all of it, for you. (Also in order to bind up my own tattered betrayed bleeding heart—I survive the grave insults of television writing through the cool blue-white healing grace of such fix-its.) NB that per this post, most of them involve “Cas coming into Dean’s room and spooning him until Dean stops shaking and falls asleep”; but the better ones go beyond that. If there’s an awesome one I didn’t see, tell me!
(At some point I have to do a “Best of Season Pre(ten)d” collection, because y’all been tearing it up. Some of the most agonizingly gorgeous s9 codas’ writers, however, have gone darkside/AU/wildly divergent, presumably because there’s almost nothing left to fix: so instead you get new fic like apocalypse-patisserie & robotmango's magnificently soothing Pie Without Plot.)
1. “the worst of me,” casfallsinlove
“You’re not my mission,” Cas mutters softly. “You’re my best friend.” Fuck. “Yeah, well, friends don’t break promises.” To his surprise, Cas laughs. “Dean, if you think I’m capable of killing you then you clearly haven’t been paying much attention these last few years.”
Right? RIGHT?!? I MEAN CAN I GET AN AMEN HERE. Real talk, followed by fluff like you didn’t know you needed until that moment when Cas pulls a sheet set out of a bag and starts making the bed. In a lighthouse. Oh hell to the yes. Who are you, casfallsinlove, and why are you not in LA kicking writers around like footballs?
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2. “Canticle,” Amelia_Clark ( silibrumportes)
While you’re at it you should read every flipping thing by Amelia because she takes the top of my head off on the regular, &/or blasts a giant shotgun hole of woozy glorious joy through my chest, and if you’re in this fandom you’ll know those are really really good things (I’m still not over her frikkity-frakking Christmas armistice ficlet SWEET FANCY MOSES). So many of these codas end with Cas following Dean back to his room after the brotastic shoulder-clap, followed by some h/c Dean-as-little-spoon action; but this one is so well-written, and it, uh, yeah. You will read this one. Yes.
"Dean," Cas says back, or at least that’s the sound he makes. Dean’s pretty sure what he’s really saying, and he hates how much he wants to hear it, how much he can’t bring himself to ask. "Dean, you gave me the Blade." "Yeah," says Dean. He doesn’t say because you’ll need to kill me with it, someday soon, before you die. They never say these things; Dean doesn’t know whether it would change anything if they did. "Dean," Cas says again, "please," and he raises his hand to brush so gently over the cuts on Dean’s face. He doesn’t heal them—not enough mojo to spare—but there’s still a jolt to his touch, a white light sparking between them.
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3. “coup de foudre,” mishcollin
The author bills this one as a Valentine’s fic but I’m treating it like a coda because that makes me feel better. Actually just that this exists makes me feel better. Established not-quite-relationship-what-is-this-thing-we’re-doing-but-not-talking-about. Fluff like soft sterilized gauze applied to a wound. So good.
Dean realizes, way too late, that he never should’ve started this with Cas, who’s probably the only creature on earth with a stronger willpower than Dean’s, and probably the only creature on earth who can break Dean’s libido within a matter of seconds. When Sam looks away again, Dean makes a face at Cas and mouths, fiercely, Cut it out, to which Cas mouths back, eyebrows raised, You started this, which. Yeah. "So what do you think?" Sam asks, after a couple more minutes of white noise. "Worth checking out?" "Yeah, definitely," Dean says without knowing what he’s agreeing to, and that’s how it starts.
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4. “Swimming,” frozen_delight
Engrossing character sketch of everyone’s favorite not-so-righteous-lately Righteous Man, via unexpectedly affecting water metaphors. Author’s tagged it “pre-slash” but even if you don’t ship it, there’s lovely evocative ragged haunted descriptioning.
The lake is shallow enough that Dean can see right to the sandy bottom. The surrounding pine trees are reflected on the surface, affording shade and peace. Calmly, Dean does the crawl from one side of the lake to the other, thinking of nothing but his limbs moving in the water. He’s counting his strokes, one, two, three, four, five, when a movement to his right catches his attention. It’s Cas. “What are you doing here?” Dean asks….It’s been a while since Cas has visited one of his dreams.
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5. “At the Edge of a Blade,” relucant
Horrifying and totally show-like, in that you can absolutely picture this scene unfurling in pure Ladouceur verisimilitude. Only, you know, way better writing. Cough. For, as relucant notes, SPN doesn’t let us have nice things.
"Dean," he says. "Look at me." Reluctantly Dean drags his eyes to Castiel’s face. There are tears pooling in the shimmering blue, but a small smile curls on his lips. "I’ve made peace with how my story ends. I’m old, Dean. I’m very old. I’ve watched unimaginable beauty and unspeakable tragedy for millennia, without understanding what it meant. And you changed that." "Cas, don’t," Dean chokes, turning his head away, and Cas is silent for a moment. "My grace is fading, Dean," he finally says. "I don’t have long left."
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BONUS: “all that you need is in your soul,” xylodemon.