Yes, this is another ficlet I wrote, yes I know I post these really often, but it’s just because my brain loves to come up with ideas at midnight and I can’t just ignore them. So, this latest Destiel ficlet is called The Aftermath, in which they defeated Chuck, but suffered some losses. This is an idea as to what the ending of the show might look like. It’s not entirely happy, because I don’t think they’re going to let us get away with them all living, so ***Spoiler Alert*** in this take on the ending, Sam dies.
Also, I wanted to say that if you’re someone who enjoys these mini fic posts I make, please let me know if you want to be tagged when I post new stories.
Okay, without further adieu, you can read it here down below, as always, or you can read it on my Ao3.
They did it. They beat Chuck. They won.
As happy as Dean wanted to be that they managed to outsmart Chuck (with the help of Amara, Jack, Michael, and Cas) it hadn’t been a total win, there had been losses.
Sam had gotten caught in the crossfire between Chuck and Amara. Chuck had hit him with a powerful blow that sent him flying across the room where he fell and never got back up. Dean knew Sam was already dead before he hit the ground, but part of him hoped that maybe he was okay, maybe the blow hadn’t killed him. But they weren’t that lucky. Sam was gone, and this time he wasn’t coming back.
They lost Jack, too. Not by death, which Dean could count partly as a win, but to Michael. Michael took him up to Heaven, and together they were going to rebuild the Silver City and create more angels. Even through all the differences they’d had, all the fights and grudges Dean had held against him, he was going to miss the kid. Jack had promised to visit when he got the chance, claiming he was only one prayer away.
Cas’ grace was the other thing they lost. Dean couldn’t exactly say it was a huge loss, not compared to Sam’s death, anyway, but it was still a loss. Cas had burnt himself out helping with Chuck’s demise, every ounce of grace he had left his body, leaving him vulnerable; human.
Cas didn’t seem all that bothered by it, almost like he was expecting it, and maybe he was. Cas had been human before, he knew what to expect, he knew how it felt, Dean couldn’t do much in the way of helping him adjust because Cas didn’t seem to need help. Cas had got it in his head that Dean was the one who needed help, because Dean was grieving.
Sam’s death had hit him hard, true, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t gone through it before. The only difference this time was that no demon deal or any amount of pleading with Billie, would bring his brother back. Dean had become a shell, just a body, going through the motions. He ate as little as he could get away with, he drank coffee in the morning but it always turned to whiskey after the first cup. Day and night, he wandered the halls of the bunker. He didn’t sleep well, maybe two hours a night, but those hours were always plagued with nightmares and the ghost of Sam’s limp body in his hands.
Cas noticed Dean’s sleeplessness. Of course, he noticed. And Cas being Cas, he kept trying to help.
“I’m fine, Cas,” Dean would say to every inquiry from the ex-angel.
“Dean, you’re not fine,” Cas would reply.
And of course, he was right. Dean wasn’t fine, he was never going to be fine again. Life without his brother was just as empty as he’d thought it would be. Yeah, you’re right, I’m not fine. Dean wanted to say, wanted to scream, but he didn’t. He never let Cas hear those words; that was until one night when Cas found Dean standing in the doorway of Sam’s bedroom, just staring, silent tears streaming down his cheeks, that he finally broke.
“He’s really gone,” he said, his voice choked and raw.
“Yes,” Cas replied solemnly.
Dean felt the palm of Cas’ hand slide across his back in soothing strokes and before he could stop himself, he was turning into Cas’ warm embrace and burying his face in the crook of his best friend’s neck.
“It’s okay,” Cas said softly, his hand still moving in slow circles along Dean’s back as sobs wrenched themselves from his chest. “It’s okay.”
Dean didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but he cried until his eyes were dry and he was hiccuping in breaths of air. All the while, Cas soothed him and Dean drank in the scent of his friend, the safety that he felt wrapped in his arms. Fear suddenly spiked through Dean’s body and he gripped Cas tighter.
“Don’t leave me,” he whispered in a whimper. “Please, don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Cas said against Dean’s ear. “I would never leave you.”
Dean sobbed again and held onto Cas so tightly that he was almost certain Cas couldn’t breathe, but the ex-angel didn’t make a sound, he just patted Dean’s back and let one of his hands trail through the short hair along Dean’s neck.
“I’m not okay, Cas,” he said into Cas’ shoulder.
“I know,” Cas replied softly.
“I just… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. I can’t hunt, not without him.”
“So don’t. There are plenty of other hunters out there. Let someone else save the world for a change. You should live your life for once, do what you want to do, not what you think you have to.”
Dean sniffed and pulled away from Cas slightly, only keeping a whisker of space between them. Cas’ blue eyes were filled with sorrow and understanding and Dean wanted to cry again just at the sight of him.
“Are you telling me to retire?” Dean asked through a huff.
Cas lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I’m telling you to do whatever you want to do, Dean. You don’t have to give up the life, you can still help other hunters, like Bobby did, but you don’t have to be out in the field anymore. If you do decide that you want to keep hunting, I will accompany you if you want.”
Dean pondered the thought for a moment, hunting with Cas didn’t sound all that bad, but the thought of retirement also lured Dean in. He thought about going into town, getting a real job, having real food for every meal and not something that he had to heat up in a microwave. It was tempting, and Dean found himself almost smiling at the thought of himself like that.
“And if I don’t want to hunt anymore,” Dean began tentatively, “you’ll really stay here with me?”
Cas’ lips twitched at the corners, the smallest of smiles pulling at the edges of his mouth. “Yes, Dean. I’ll stay.”
Dean’s eyes flickered over every part of Castiel’s face. His blue eyes, the shadow of his stubble, his slightly flushed cheeks, the way his lips were parted as he gazed up at Dean.
He didn’t know why he did it, maybe it was the heat of the moment, maybe he finally realized that he should stop saying no to the little voice inside his head that always spoke up whenever he was in any kind of vicinity to Castiel, or maybe it was just because Dean was feeling so lonely and sad that he just needed that human contact; whatever it was, Dean would later thank it for giving him the courage to surge forward and press his lips to Castiel’s.
Cas made a small noise of surprise, but it only lasted a second before he was kissing Dean back. They hardly left themselves any time to get a gulp of air between kisses and Dean pushed Cas up against the wall, sliding his fingers through Cas’ unruly hair.
Kissing Cas felt like coming home. It felt like everything he’d ever been missing in his life was wrapped up in the soft plush cushions of Cas’ lips. They kissed until they were forced to stop, dragging in deep breaths while they stole quiet glances at each other.
“Dean, are you sure you-” Cas began, but Dean held up a hand to stop him.
“Whatever you’re going to say, the answer is yes. Yes, I want this, I’ve wanted this for a long time but I never had the guts to tell you. I’ve wanted this since I saw you in that barn, since you told me that I deserved to be saved, since you gave up everything for me. I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.” Dean paused, drawing in a few breaths of air and letting his eyes connect with Castiel’s. “Do you? Want this, I mean.”
Castiel’s hand brushed against Dean’s, and soon their fingers were linked together and Cas was leaning in, lips brushing against Dean’s as he replied. “Yes. I’ve wanted this since I first raised you from perdition.”
Dean’s heart fluttered in his chest, the smallest ounce of happiness drifting through all the sadness and anger, it carried a small wisp of hope, and as Dean kissed Cas again, he began to think that maybe everything would turn out okay.
The years went on. Dean became a mechanic in town, and Castiel took after beekeeping and sold the honey he collected to a local farm. Every morning, Castiel would go out and look after the bees in the small clearing behind the bunker and Dean would come with him, letting their hands tangle together as they walked, each sipping from a mug of coffee as they listened to the birds chirping while the sun began to rise on the horizon.
It was perfect. Well, almost perfect. Sam’s absence still left Dean with a hole in his heart that would never be filled, but Cas was still here. He stayed, and every night when he kissed Dean before they slept, shifting under the covers to lay his head on Dean’s chest and trail his fingers over Dean’s skin with featherlight touches, he reminded Dean that he really was going to stay; and it was then that the words suddenly slipped from his lips.
“Marry me,” he said into the stillness of his bunker room. He tilted his head to look at Cas, who was now looking up at him, blue eyes bright. Dean repeated the words. “Marry me, Cas, please will you marry me?”
Cas smiled. A warm comforting smile and then leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Yes,” he replied, voice deep and rough as he kissed Dean over and over again. “Yes, Dean, of course I’ll marry you.”
The ceremony was small. Eileen, Donna, Jody, Claire, Alex, and Patience attended it. Jody officiated it, vows were exchanged, rings were placed on fingers, and it was over within fifteen minutes. Hugs were given, promises to see each other again soon were made, and then Dean and Castiel returned to the bunker and spent their wedding night tangled in the sheets of their bed.
When Dean first noticed the gray lining his hair he stared at it for a solid ten minutes before he realized that it wasn’t just a reflection from the light. He chuckled at it, amazed that he was living long enough to even have gray hair; he never thought he’d see the day.
Cas claimed that he liked it, that it added something to Dean’s features, and when Dean noticed gray in Cas’ hair too they laughed about it and kissed and then carried on like they usually would. They went outside to watch the sunset, hand in hand, and laid out on their backs to watch the stars when the sky opened up to reveal the dots of shining gas.
The years continued to pass, slowly and blissfully, and Dean eventually retired from his job as a mechanic and helped Cas with the beekeeping.
The town was filled with rumors about who the two strange men living in the old bunker were. Some of the theories were outright laughable, like the ones where people speculated that they used to be part of the mob, or that they were criminals who ate children that came too close to the bunker, but others were closer to the truth.
Some said that they used to travel the country and help people, which was basically spot on, and others said they were just two men living out the rest of their days in peace, which was also the truth.
One morning, when Dean and Cas went into town for their weekly groceries, a young boy of about ten or eleven approached them when the screaming of the Impala’s hinges alerted him to their arrival in town. He was only tall enough to reach Dean’s chest and was chewing on a piece of bubble gum.
“You’re them, aren’t you?” the kid asked, as he came to a stop in front of them. “The strange guys that live in that old bunker.”
Dean and Cas exchanged glances and then Dean knelt to the ground to be eye level with the boy. “Yeah, we’re them,” Dean replied with a small smile.
“Is it true that you were abducted by aliens?”
Dean chuckled, that was a new one. He shook his head. “No. I was abducted by fairies once, but not aliens.”
“Fairies?” the kid echoed.
Dean hummed in affirmation. “Yes.”
The kid’s eyes flicked to Castiel and he looked him up and down, taking in the trench coat that Cas still insisted on wearing. “My brother said you used to be a bounty hunter.”
Cas let out a small huff of laughter as he regarded the boy. “I was a soldier,” he replied.
A soldier of God. Dean finished in his head.
The boy’s eyes went wide. “Did you kill anyone?”
Cas sighed and looked over at Dean, who took his hand and squeezed it. “Yes,” he answered honestly.
The kid let out a small gasp and then immediately turned to Dean. “Were you a soldier too?”
“In a way,” Dean replied.
“So is it true you saved people? My Grandma said you saved her life once.”
Dean nodded slowly, feeling warmth spread through him at the thought that he had saved this boy’s grandmother, effectively meaning that this kid was here because of him.
“Cas and I used to travel the country and stop evil creatures from hurting people.”
“Wow,” the kid breathed in awe, but his wide-eyed smile suddenly slipped and he blinked up at them in confusion. “But, if you’re not saving people anymore, who is?”
Dean chuckled again and reached out to ruffle the kids long shaggy hair, painfully reminding him of Sam's hair, and how he used to ruffle it when they were kids. “Don’t worry, there are other people out there, and Cas and I still help behind the scenes.”
“But, what if there’s something evil in Lebanon?” the kid asked, suddenly worried.
Dean glanced over at Cas again, who was looking at Dean fondly, and then smiled. “Then Cas and I will take care of it. We won’t let anything bad happen to the people in Lebanon.”
The kid’s smile came back in full force and he looked up hopefully at Dean and Cas. “Really?”
Dean nodded. “Really.” He got to his feet and then gave the kid a gentle push on the shoulder. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, now run along, Cas and I have some shopping to do.”
“Okay, bye!” The kid smiled again and then waved to them as he ran back to where his mother was chatting with someone outside the post office.
Dean looked after him for a moment, seeing Sam again in the child’s eagerness and thirst for answers and knowledge.
“Are you alright?” Cas asked as Dean let Cas’ hand slip into his for the walk into the grocery store.
“I’m good,” Dean replied. “He just reminded me of Sam, that’s all.”
Cas nodded in understanding. “Yes, I thought so too.”
Dean clung to Cas’ hand as they entered the store, wondering what life would be like had Sam lived. It would have been perfect, just him, Cas, and Sam in the bunker, Eileen would probably be there too, married to Sam, with kids. But for what Dean got, he couldn’t exactly complain.
Cas was all he needed to keep living, Cas made him feel safe and loved, he reminded Dean how to live without constantly grieving. Cas was his utopia, and if this was the ending that he was served, then who was he to complain. It was a better ending than he thought he’d get going into the fight with Chuck, and so he was going to continue to live in every moment with Cas by his side. And sometimes, when Dean was sitting alone in the bunker in Sam’s room, like he made a habit of doing once every day for an hour, it felt like Sam was there with him, telling him it was okay to enjoy life. Every new day was a gift, and Dean was going to continue to open them like it was Christmas morning. He was happy to be alive, and he was thankful to be spending the rest of his days hand in hand with the love of his life.
