The Final Act | happiness & resurrection & fix-it fic & happy ending | 1.5k
Read it on AO3 or keep reading here.
*
“He’s restless, isn’t he?” Jack stares at the Empty, looks at its real form, and feels the anger inside it; the hatred and the rage and the tiredness. “He won’t let you sleep.”
The Empty doesn’t answer but Jack doesn’t need it to; he knows exactly what it is thinking: take him away; make him sleep; let me sleep. And Jack wants to; he wants to take Castiel away, bring him back to Earth where he belongs. And, while he could just take Castiel away without the Empty’s consent, that’s not who Jack wants to be because he doesn’t to want end up like Chuck, meddling and poking into people’s lives just because he has the power to do it. He has no right in doing those things.
Still, it’s not just because of his powers that Jack wants to do it. He wants to because he’s still Jack; because he still remembers the safe feeling he had whenever he was around Castiel; he still knows the certainty he had on Castiel, how he would do everything he could to protect Jack. The love he has for Castiel is still there and Jack can’t imagine allowing Castiel to stay in this place; in this cold, dark place, a place that makes Castiel relieve all the things he regrets over and over again—and he knows there are hundreds of other angels going through the same and that saving Castiel makes him look selfish, but he can’t care about it at the moment.
And Jack wants to protect Castel from that; he wants to save him just as Castiel saved him so many times. He also can’t help but think about Dean and Sam and how they’re suffering with Castiel’s absence, how the pain and the grief are still in them, as relieved as they are for the world being safe. Jack wants to protect them as much as he can.
So that’s why Jack walks forward, stepping closer to the Empty and staring straight at it. “I can take him from here, bring him back to Earth. You’ll get your sleep back and I’ll make sure you won’t be bothered if I can help it. But you have to give me permission and accept the fact that Castiel won’t be coming back here. Not again, not ever.”
The Empty doesn’t seem keen on accepting the terms, the reluctance and the stubbornness in letting Castiel go after so much work to bring him close, to trap him in an endless sleep, to make him suffer. But both Jack and the entity know Castiel isn’t someone you contain; God himself tried and failed to do it.
Seconds stretch into minutes that seem to stretch into hours as the Empty stares right into Jack, trying to decipher his intentions and to analyze how true Jack is being with his promise. But Jack’s got nothing to hide; it can look as much as it wants, search for any inconsistency in Jack’s promise for as long as it wants because it won’t find anything. If there is something Jack has learned is to always be true, even when it hurts, because it won’t hurt as much as it will when the truth finally knocks on the door—and it always does. Jack has learnt that lesson in the hardest way.
Finally, the Empty quietly agrees, waving its hand to make Castiel appear between the two of them, still asleep. There’s no peace in Castiel though; his muscles tense up and his restlessness comes in waves at Jack, showing some of the memories he’s relieving. The thing that truly gets Jack’s attention is the feeling of regret Castiel has about his own feelings, caused by not being true to himself and to others, especially Dean. And Jack wants to make it right, wants to give the two a chance at being as happy as they deserve to be.
So he looks at Empty, nodding at it softly. “Thank you. I will let you return to your sleep now.”
Its form slowly melts onto the floor, turning solid until it disappears completely, an outer-worldly quietness finally settling over the Empty. Jack kneels by Castiel’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder to slowly pull him out of his slumber. Castiel awakes with a gasp, his eyes fluttering open, pupils blown wide and filled with fear. Jack waits for Castiel to calm down, letting him look around as he realizes he’s alive and awake, but still in the Empty.
When he seems adjusted to being awake once again, he turns to Jack, his face illuminating, a hand reaching towards him before brusquely pulling it back. “Are you a dream?”
Jack smiles softly, reaching out his own hand and waiting for Castiel to touch it, to see it’s real. “I am not a dream, Cas. It really is me.”
Castiel gapes, staring at Jack in amazement, pushing himself to his knees so he can put his arms around Jack, pulling him tight onto his chest. “But, if you’re here, it means you’re— Are you dead, Jack?”
“No, and neither are you.” Jack gently pulls away, standing up and extending a hand towards Castiel. “I”m taking you back to Earth, Cas. If you want to.”
The surprise on Castiel’s face is so powerful Jack almost chuckles. He tugs Castiel’s hand to pull him up and to shake him out of his stupor. “B-but Jack, how? What happened?”
“I think that’s an answer best left for Dean and Sam. I imagine you will want to see them?” Castiel smiles, pulling Jack in for another hug and Jack lets himself sink onto the hug for just a few seconds; he has missed Castiel so much for so little time, he now just wants to stay with him, even knowing he shouldn’t.
Castiel pulls away, placing his hands on Jack’s cheeks and staring intently at him. “You’ve grown. You’ve gained Chuck’s powers, haven’t you?” Jack nods softly, lips dry as he fears Castiel’s reactions, but he only smiles, sliding his hands to Jack’s shoulders and squeezing them affectionately. “I’m proud of you. I’m certain you’ll be a much better God than Chuck could have ever been.”
Jacks smiles, his cheeks tinting pink with the compliment. “Thank you, Cas. Are you ready to go back to Earth and stay there this time?”
Castiel chuckles, nodding. “More than ready.”
“But there’s something I should tell you before.” Castiel turns to him, his smile slowly fading, replaced by fear. “If I take you back, you’ll become human once more. No turning into one or another anymore.”
Castiel nods, his shoulders relaxing down his back, relief softening his features. “It’ll be a nice change to finally be just one of them. Being human is… an extraordinary experience. I’ll be happy as one.”
“And you won’t ever need to come back here.”
“Yes, that’s also a plus side.”
They smile at each other, and Jack can see how lighter Castiel seems, how he seems so adjusted to the idea of being one hundred percent human again; and Jack can’t blame him. As long as Castiel is happy with his choices, Jack is also happy.
He places a hand on Castiel’s shoulder and, together, they plunge into darkness as Jack guides them to Lebanon, right outside the bunker. The front door is closed as usual, but there are cars parked close by and the sounds of what seems like a celebration coming from the inside, cheering and laughter and clapping. Castiel turns to face him, his expression anxious, seeming in doubt between knocking on the door or staying with Jack.
Nodding to the door, Jack says, “Go on. They’ll be ecstatic in seeing you.”
Castiel smiles sadly. “You’re not coming, are you?” Jack only shakes his head, knowing he doesn’t need to put it into words for Castiel; they both understand it well enough.
Once Castiel has knocked on the door, Jack places his hand back on his shoulder, letting just a flick of power flow through his fingers and onto Castiel. Instantly, he can see Castiel’s wings slowly finish to disintegrate, Castiel’s grace changing until it resembles a human soul. Castiel turns to him, amazement written on his face, a big smile pulling his lips up. He doesn’t say anything but Jack doesn’t need any words, just as Castiel didn’t need any from him. Jack just wants him to be happy and he knows that being human and being with his family once again is what will make Castiel happy.
Jack smiles at Castiel, his form starting to shimmer and disappear. “Enjoy, Castiel. Be happy.”
He stays long enough to see Dean open the door to the bunker, his eyes widening when he sees Castiel, not wasting a second before pulling Castiel into his arms in a crushing bear hug. Jack leaves them like that, clinging to each other as if their lives depend on it, which Jack can’t say for sure it doesn’t. The happiness he sees on their faces is enough to assure Jack that he has done the right thing and that’s enough for him.
The world is at peace and safe, Team Free Will is back together and ready to go back to their own lives, and the people are free to do as they will. There is nothing more Jack can want now; there is nothing more he needs to do but live.
new traditions | holidays & new year & 15x20 doesn’t exist & everyone is alive & fluff & one big family | 1250 words
Read it on AO3 or keep reading here.
*
The world is quiet. There are no apocalyptic events happening anywhere, no Big Bad of the Year out for their heads, and no deals looming over them anymore. Their family is back and safe and alive and Dean can’t believe they had an honest-to-God Christmas dinner with everyone: Jody, Donna and the girls; Garth, Bessie and their kids; Charlie and Stevie; Jesse, Cesar and the little girl they had just adopted; Bobby, Eileen, Jack, Sam, Cas, and even Rowena had come to see them. Everyone they had lost because of Chuck, everyone that been murdered and taken before their time was there with them and the bunker had never been so happy or alive—not even the Christmas they had ith Ms. Butters had been as good as the holiday with their family was.
Most of them stayed a couple of days after Christmas, eating leftovers and watching movies and playing games or just resting—and Dean couldn’t blame them because it was, indeed, a great to spend the days, especially after everything that had happened.
Still, almost everyone already had plans for New Year and left before December 30. Claire and Kaia went on a road trip with one of the bunker’s cars—after Dean had made her pinky-promise she would be careful with it; Donna and Jody would spend it together in one of their cabins while Patience stayed with her father. Charlie and Stevie went back home for their geek movies and their new tradition of binge-watching Star Wars all day. Jesse and Cesar were flying to Mexico to visit family. Rowena had gone back to Hell after promising she’d show up more to visit them. Even Bobby had plans when he left the bunker that morning, even though he refused to tell them what it was.
Sam and Eileen wanted to see the fireworks from the city and Jack had begged them to let him come with them so he could see his friends. So, in the end, only Cas and Dean stayed in the bunker for New Year’s Eve, which Dean didn’t have a problem with at all; he has missed Cas more than he can understand and he’s more than happy to have some time alone for just the two of them.
They spend the day huddled together, watching movies, eating junk food and drinking hot chocolate. Dean falls asleep at some point in the afternoon—which he refuses to acknowledge as him getting old—his head resting on Cas’s chest as Cas threads his fingers through his hair, and those are some of the best hours of sleep Dean has ever had. He doesn’t even see Sam, Eileen and Jack leave, just knows because Cas tells him once Dean’s awake. There’s a documentary playing on TV and Cas seems to be very interested in it, eyes glued to the TV. Dean’s, on the other hand, are glued to Cas, watching how beautiful he is and how ethereal he looks in the TV’s blue light, even though he’s completely human now, his eyes the colour of a summer, cloudless sky.
The whole domestic vibe they’ve been having the last few weeks still lingers in the air and Dean doesn’t want it to ever end; sure, he doesn’t want to stop hunting, not for now at least, but he still wants to have this. He wants to be able to spend whole days with Cas so they can make up for all the lost time; he wants to have some quality time with Eileen now that she rarely leaves the bunker so they can get to know each other more; spend more time with his family, even take care of Garth and Bessie’s kids—even though he still hasn’t forgiven them for not naming one of their kids Dean—or visit Jesse and Cesar and spend some time with their daughter, who is just the sweetest little kid Dean has ever seen. He wants to make things right with Jack, he wants to let go of some of his anger so they can go back to the healthy relationship they had been slowly building before Chuck.
Cas must sense Dean’s thoughts somehow—and how he still does that while being human, Dean doesn’t know—because he finally turns away from the TV and looks at Dean, his left eyebrow slightly up.
“A penny for your thoughts?”
Dean chuckles, pulling Cas closer to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “Just thinking about our family. How we’ve got everyone back and things are good.”
Cas smiles, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in the most adorable way. “It’s so good to have them closer now. We can even start new traditions.”
“Yeah, we could. Always have everyone over for Christmas. No one can’t not come unless they have a good reason. That way, everyone will be together at least once a year.”
“I like that tradition. Especially if it involves you, Jody, Stevie and Cesar cooking.”
Dean throws his head back and laughs loudly, shaking his head fondly. “Angel, I can cook for you anytime you want.”
Cas gives him one more kiss, his hand on Dean’s cheek, running his thumb along his jaw affectionately. Dean gives him a smile and is about to turn back to the TV when Cas grabs his hand and pulls him up and towards the door, his other hand carrying some of the blankets. Dean doesn’t have time to ask Cas where they’re going, too focused on not tripping over his own feet as Cas hurries them to the bunker’s front door.
The air is chilly and snowy, everything covered in white and looking outer-worldly. The colourful fairy lights on the walls of the bunker reflect on the snow beautifully and Dean wants to stop and admire it, but Cas continues to pull him, making his way towards the woods. The snow crunches under their feet and Dean likes it so much he wants to let go of Cas’s hand and jump around the trees to crunch some more, the same he and Sam used to do when they were kids.
Before he can, Cas stops in a clearing, the sky wide open over them, so clean Dean can see dozens of stars. He turns around, trying to look at all of them at the same time as Cas cleans some of the snow to place one of the blankets on the ground. He sits on it and extends a hand to Dean. He takes it and lets Cas pull him down.
“Cas,” he starts as Cas wraps blankets around their shoulders. “What are we doing here?”
“I thought we could start another new tradition”. Cas smiles, his hand soft and warm on Dean’s. “Just you and me, somewhere in the woods, wrapped in blankets to watch the fireworks. What do you think?”
“I love it.” Dean smiles, pulling Cas closer to kiss him just as the fireworks explode around them.
And they keep their promise the best they can; if they can’t be at the bunker, they’ll find a nice, isolated place in the woods, bringing their blankets—except that one time in Brazil; it was way too hot for blankets—so they can huddle together and watch the fireworks explode around them as they year changes. Their New Year’s kisses are always one of the best and Dean pours all of his heart and soul into them, every single time. It’s the best tradition he could ask for.
Yes, I know it’s late but better than never, right? I won’t take much of your time but thank you @deansrightfulangerissue for helping me with this ❤
Read it on AO3 or keep reading here.
*
“I thought you had stopped drinking.” Castiel says, watching as Dean slowly lowers the bourbon bottle, placing it silently on the table and turning to face Castiel.
“And I thought you had stopped sneaking out in the middle of the night.”
Castiel sighs, dragging himself to one of the chairs and sitting on it—he knows it’ll be a long conversation. “I wasn’t sneaking out.”
“No, you were just leaving in the middle of the night without telling us.” Dean is sitting on the chair by Castiel’s side, the bottle between them but still unopened. “Where were you going?”
“Nowhere.”
“Bullshit, Cas.” Dean’s eyes burn on Castiel’s skin, even when he doesn’t raise his gaze from the table. “C’mon, man, I thought we had agreed: no more secrets, no more lying, not anymore.” The words hurt more than Castiel thought they would but he keeps quiet. Dean’s hand inches closer to his, the palm turned up invitingly, and Castiel interlaces their fingers. His voice is soft when he speaks, “Tell me.”
A heavy sigh leaves Castiel’s lips when he finally looks up and meets Dean’s stare. “How did it go with Amara?” Because it’s easier to answer with a question than to tell the truth.
Castiel sees in Dean’s eyes how much he wants to press on the subject and get Castiel to tell him the truth, but he resigns and simply answers, “I think she may be on our side but… I wouldn’t say it went good.”
The pain and the strain in all of Dean’s body language isn’t hard to miss: his hand is squeezing Castiel’s tightly, his voice is hard but bitter, shoulders tensed, and eyes staring down. Castiel’s thumb caress Dean’s skin lovingly, trying to come up with something to say.
He asks, “What happened?” because it’s easier than anything else.
The silence stretches between them for a few more minutes, Dean seeming to struggle to form words. Castiel watches him, watches the way Dean seems to squirm inside his own body, lips tightened in a thin line.
But, still, this is easier for Castiel than to have them be estranged; easier than to tell Dean the truth about Billie’s plan, about how Jack is going to die if they don’t find another way, about how Castiel himself may die by the Empty’s hands if he gets the slightest feeling of happiness—which this, right here, is almost enough for Castiel to feel happy. And Castiel can’t think about any of that, not about having to see Jack die again or be ripped from his life if he lets himself be happy just for being with Dean.
And he knows he should tell them, that Dean and Sam deserve to know, but something stops him, the same protective instinct that constantly stops him from telling Dean about his deal with the Empty—if only the cosmic entity were like Rowena — stopped making pacts and let go of the ones that are still up…
Castiel snaps out of his trail of thoughts when Dean clears his throat and breaks the silence, “I asked Amara why she… why she brought Mom back, what she had expected from it.”
It’s easy to see how much that affects Dean, how much it hurts him. Castiel doesn’t know what to say to Dean, so he just squeezes his hand and tries to give him a comforting smile. “What did she say?”
Dean scoffs, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “She said she intended for it to make me let go of the ‘myth’ I created about my mom, make me see that she was actually better than that because she was alive,” Dean’s voice breaks with a sob.
Castiel wants to reach out, wants to comfort Dean, but he knows there’s little he or anyone can do to make him feel better. And, as softness was never Castiel’s thing, he asks the hard question, “Was it?” Dean slightly turns his head to stare at him, the question written in his eyes. “Was having your mother and meeting the real her better than the myth you had created about her? Better than whatever memories you had of her?”
A shadow of shame obscures Dean’s eyes and he stays quiet for a few seconds. Finally, he shakes his head. “As much as it hurt to say it, no, it wasn’t completely better. ‘Course having her alive was better but…” he hesitates, voice growing weaker. “She wasn’t the person I thought she was. Or, maybe, she just wasn’t the mother I wanted her to be.” Dean sighs, his fingers tracing random patterns on Castiel’s hand.
“She also said she hoped it would ‘release me from my anger’, whatever the hell that means. Still, she seemed so… sincere. Like she really believed what she said, like she really believed she was helping me.” Dean laughs humorlessly. “I can’t even get angry at her, anymore.”
“Well,” Castiel starts after a few seconds, “We’ve all done things we believed were good that didn’t end up great.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Dean looks down with a heavy sigh.
Castiel isn't sure what more to do so just he stands up and walks to Dean side, puts his arms around him. He lets Dean sink into their embrace, lets Dean melt against Castiel's chest because he knows Dean needs it, that there isn't much else Castiel can do but offer comfort.
He loses track of time, running his hands up and down Dean's back, trying to soothe some of his tension away. It’s not hard to notice that there’s something else Dean wants to say because it hangs heavy on the air around them, suffocating Castiel and seeming to do the same to Dean. Still, Castiel doesn’t want to force Dean to say anything, doesn’t want to make Dean feel even worse or more uncomfortable.
Even when his feet start to hurt, Castiel doesn’t move, his hands slowly stopping on Dean’s lower back, hugging him tighter. Dean sighs softly on his ear, squeezing Castiel’s shoulders before pushing away gently. They stare at each other, Dean taking Castiel’s hands in his to rub his thumbs on them.
“There’s more,” Dean says after a while, voice hoarse. “Amara was… distressed, anxious about betraying Chuck and she didn’t want to do it. She asked if she could trust me and I lied.” Dean closes his eyes with a heavy breath out. “Or I think I lied to her.”
Castiel tilts his head, not sure if he understands what Dean is saying. “What do you mean?”
“I… I know we have to kill her if we kill Chuck to keep the balance, but… I don’t think I can hurt her, Cas. Or let someone else hurt her. Not even if I want to.”
The pain in Dean’s voice cuts through Castiel’s heart, the sincerity of his confession a heavy weight on Dean’s shoulders, and Castiel interlaces his fingers with Dean’s, trying to offer what little comfort he can because there’s not much else he can do. Just being there for Dean, while he can, has to be enough for now.
Wow, I can’t believe I’m actually posting this. I wrote this drabble during the week, after getting the inspiration from The Little Prince (don’t ask me how it turned out to be angsty, I don’t know). I haven’t posted any writing in more than three months because I’ve been on a slump and I don’t know how to get out. But I’m hoping that posting this may make me feel like writing and putting things out there again.
Enjoy this bittersweet Destiel drabble about Cas going to the Empty (which, by the way, involves MCD, obviously).
Dean talks about him to anyone that will listen; he’s sure Sam can’t take him talking about it anymore but he doesn’t seem to have the heart to stop Dean. Jack drinks all of Dean’s words, his eyes glued to Dean’s face as he tells Jack about all the things Castiel has done since they’ve met, singing all of his praises. The girls all listen to him, sharing memories with him, even though Dean doesn’t feel okay talking about Cas to Claire; but she tells him it’s okay, that she likes to know how good of a person Castiel was, how much she missed about him.
Dean will rant about Cas for hours to the bartender in the bar closest to the bunker. The beer bottle going one after another, the bartender seeming to always listen to him, even when Dean tells the same stories over and over again, just letting Dean talk as much as he wants throughout the night. Dean doesn’t have eyes to anyone else in the bar, doesn’t even feel the need to because nothing else matters while he talks about Cas, because all he can think about is Cas; his blue eyes that seemed to steal the sky’s colour, his bed head of a hair, always messy no matter how much Dean tried to tame it.
No one could ever get close to matching Cas and Dean doesn’t want anyone to because Cas was the one, Dean’s sure of it; he knows, deep down in his gut, that no one could ever replace Cas in his life, in his heart. He could never love anyone as much as he loves Cas.
And so he talks about him constantly, afraid that, if he doesn’t, the details may leave him, that, little by little, Cas will disappear from his memory. Dean can feel that happen when he doesn’t mention or think about Cas in a while. He knows there’s something related to the Empty for hat to happen and Dean can’t let that happen; he has to keep Cas’s memory alive, he has to let people know how awesome his angel was and how much Dean loves him; how much Dean will always love him.
So that’s what Dean does for the rest of his life; even though the memory hurts him, that it hurts to think about Cas and not have him there, it hurts worse no to think about his angel and Dean needs to believe that, maybe, keeping Cas’s memory alive, he’s helping Cas in the Empty, helps him remember who he is and not go crazy in the darkness he’s in. Because there’s nothing else Dean can do, no way to save Cas and bring him home. There’s only the burning sensation the alcohol leaves in his throat and the bittersweet feeling of remembering Cas.
dream a little dream of me | Nico di Angelo & Jason Grace | 673 words | hurt/comfort & dreams & light angst & past MCD
Demigods' dreams usually make you see what you don't want to see. Still, sometimes, they allow to see someone you miss.
Read it on AO3 or keep reading here.
*
It’s the same place as always. It has been over a year, maybe two, and Nico keeps dreaming about this place; keeps remembering what it felt like to have his heart ripped out of his chest and exposed to Cupid. To have the words pulled out of his throat when he didn’t want them to ever come out. He still remembers the pain in his body as Cupid forced him to confess his feelings, how Nico felt as if he had no choice in the matter because he had to do it; he had to save the world. He had to save Percy.
And he doesn’t regret it for a second. Not anymore anyway.
But the memory of this place, the hatred he has for this place hasn’t gotten better over time. Not regretting it doesn’t mean he likes to relive this memory. It doesn’t mean he wants to go through it again and again and again. And so he turns, ready to force his mind to go somewhere else, force his dream to change to something Nico wants to see, when he senses it.
There’s someone else with him, someone who shouldn’t be there; someone Nico doesn’t know how got into his dream. Still, curious enough, Nico searches for them, stares at the empty city and the ruins, looking for the presence, trying to feel it once again.
To his left, the air seems to shimmer a few feet from him, bending in on itself, turning darker and darker until a human silhouette marks the space, clearing until Nico can finally see and recognize the person. But it can’t be true. It can’t be him because… Because Nico doesn’t trust his own mind, not when it has been doing everything it can to mess with him, digging up his worst nightmares to throw at him, coming up with terrible scenarios to panic him, to make him doubt his own sanity.
Still, he can’t stop himself from asking, a twinge of hope in his heart, “Are you real? Or is this just my head messing with me?”
Jason smiles in a comforting way, the same smile he’d give Nico the first few weeks after their quest for Cupid. “Well, I could be mean and let you think it’s in your head, but I’m a nice guy. I am actually here, Nico. I guess your father doesn’t hate me too much, so he let me come talk to you for a few minutes.”
Nico stammers, not believing his own eyes, giving small steps towards Jason. “B-but why? Why come here, why come to see me when you could see anyone else?”
Jason’s smile saddens and he walks towards Nico until he’s able to put a hand on his shoulder. It feels heavy, warm, real. “Because I actually miss you, can you believe it? And… I hadn’t seen you in so long before…” Jason doesn’t finish the sentence but the ending is clear: before I died.
Nico’s eyes well up with tears, his heart squeezing painfully. “Jason, I’m so sorry. If I had known—”
“Stop. This is not your fault. This wasn’t anyone’s fault. I made my choices, Nico, and you have to respect that.”
Nico lowers his eyes to the ground, sniffling. “I hate it when you’re all righteous and Roman.”
Jason chuckles, pulling Nico into a hug. “I have my moments.”
Nico doesn’t even care about touching someone else; he’s missed Jason so much and he doesn’t know if he’ll get a chance of seeing him again—knowing him the way he does, Nico’s sure Jason will choose reborn soon.
After letting him go, Jason gives Nico one last smile, his form starting to shimmer and disappear. Nico’s heart tightens and he wants to keep Jason there, stop him from going away, but he knows he can’t; he has learned that lesson in the most painful way.
“I hope I don’t see you again too soon, Nico. And remember,” Jason’s voice starts to get muffled and far away, “Be happy; you deserve it.”
SPN Coda | 15x19 | happiness & hopeful & no mentions to the bad things | 605 words
Read it on AO3 or keep reading here.
*
It’s the quietness that wakes him. It’s the sense of safety and liberty that keeps him awake throughout the rest of the night. It’s knowing that every step he takes is out of his own choice that keeps him going into the kitchen and making breakfast for them. It’s the bitter but sweet taste of coffee that relaxes Dean at the same that it makes him alert, that pulls him out of his slumber.
It’s knowing the world is safe, that the people are in total control of their own lives, that Jack is out there, somewhere and everywhere, finally being able to live his own life without pain, without suffering, without a world-ending event looming over his head that makes Dean happy to be alive, that shows Dean he was right in fighting for the world. That everything was worth it because they did it; they finally got their freedom and their lives back, and they’ve made the world a safe place for everyone.
And Dean doesn’t quite know how to deal with it; he knows the monsters are still out there, he knows their job as hunters isn’t over, but they have the freedom to do other things now. Dean can finally go to the beach, he can catch up on his movies and shows, he can binge-watch his favourite horror movies for as long as he wants to. He can go on a road trip throughout the country or even to Canada or Mexico or anywhere he wants to go. There’s a whole world out there for him to get to know and the plane trips don’t even sound as bad as they would a week ago.
There are so many things he can do out there that Dean can’t think of them all. But, just knowing they’re out there, knowing he has the choice of doing them if he wants to, is enough for him and Dean can’t wait to decide on what he wants to do first.
For now, though, he can just focus on his coffee, actually enjoy it for once, and breathe in the sweet, fresh air. The silence in the kitchen is comfortable, the smell of bacon and eggs mouth-watering, and the calm atmosphere makes Dean feel at home more than ever.
So, when Sam finally wakes up and finds him in the kitchen, drinking his third cup of coffee—just because it tastes amazing—Dean has a soft smile on his lips, not even caring he hasn’t been doing anything but stare at his mug. Dean doesn’t even feel bored.
“You’re looking chirpy this morning.” Sam grabs himself a mug before sitting across Dean. “Anything specific?”
Dean shrugs, looking up from his mug to stare at Sam. “It’s a beautiful day, we have the rest of our lives and the whole world to get to know. Why wouldn’t I be chirpy? And, you know, Fiji is nice this time of the year.”
“You want to go travelling? You?”
“Yeah, why not? Only place we’ve gone is Canada. Why not go out there and meet the world we just saved?”
Sam smiles at him, clicking their mugs together. “Who am I to complain? How soon do you want to go?”
“Today, tomorrow, next week? Doesn’t matter as long as we go.” The happiness in Dean’s bones makes him all jittery and he can’t help but smile broadly. “We did it, Sammy. We’re finally free.” He takes the last sip of his coffee, placing the empty mug in the sink. “And you know what? I’ll actually get those tickets now ‘cause there ain’t no time like the present.”
Look, I am actually posting this coda. A week later, but at least I am. Writing it was difficult because my brain has decided it doesn’t wanna do any writing but I hope you’ll enjoy it nonetheless.
Read it on AO3 or keep reading here.
Dean went soft in a small amount of time; he got used to having someone make him breakfast and lunch and dinner, and got used to having the monster radar that showed him where the monsters were without having to read the news, or research to find out what monster it was, or talk to witnesses. Even easier, he and Sam went after those monsters without knowing if they were monsters. They just went in and killed them, without having an ounce of a second thought or remorse, without wondering if what they were doing was right; it was just black in white.
After Ms. Butters left, it took Dean a few days to get to used to their routine again; doing the dishes, the laundry, worrying about what they’re going to eat, and reading the news when searching for a new case. His concern about Cas being far away while looking for Amara also came back, as did worrying about how Jack was dealing with having his soul back and getting his ass kicked by a wood nymph—not that Jack had told him anything, but he heard him and Sam talking about it, which was ultimately worse.
So, after they sang “Happy Birthday” to Jack—and Dean’s heart hurt when he thought about Cas not being there—he did the only thing he wanted to: he hid in his room with a cupcake made from the leftover batter, a candle stuck in it.
Dean didn’t get it; Sam had celebrated his birthday because Ms. Butter had insisted on it; he made a cake for Jack to celebrate his birthday because Jack never got to do it before; but why couldn’t he celebrate his birthday? Why couldn’t he want a nice cake—or a pie, but he would accept either—gifts, or just have someone actually remember his birthday and wish him a nice birthday? Dean didn’t even remember the last time he celebrated it—aside from just remembering it himself. Not even his mom had remembered it and done something for him.
But he always took what he could; the leftovers of another party; the smallest of hints someone would give about knowing it was his birthday; a slice of pie in a diner, where sometimes the waiter would wish him a “Happy Birthday” and sit with him for a while, which would only make Dean feel lonelier.
So that was why Dean lit the single candle on his cupcake, staring at it with a heavy heart. “Happy freakin’ birthday to me.”
He took a deep inhale to blow out the flame when the door opened to reveal Cas, his hunched posture and tired expression telling Dean everything he needed to know about how well Cas’s search went.
Dean readjusted himself on the bed and patted the space on his side. Cas closed the door quietly, taking out his coat, suit jacket and shoes before sitting on the bed. He raised a brow and nodded towards the cupcake on Dean’s hand.
“What is the cake about?”
Sighing, Dean changed the hand holding the cupcake. “If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”
“Try me.”
“I just… I wanted to celebrate my birthday.”
Cas took the cupcake from his hand and held it in front of Dean. “You should make a wish, then.”
Dean smiled softly at him, his heart tightening in chest for having Cas so close and so far away at the same time, for having him not judge Dean for celebrating his birthday months after it for no good reason at all, just for having Cas by his side.
He closed his eyes, trying to think of a wish. There were so many things he could wish for, how the hell was he supposed to choose just one?
After a couple of seconds, he settled for the easiest one: just let my family be alive after this and then blew out the candle.
Cas’s lips twitched in a small smile as he handed the cupcake back to Dean. “What did you wish for?”
“If I tell you, you won’t come true.” Dean broke the cupcake in two halves, offering one to Cas.
“It’s your cupcake, Dean, you should get to eat it.”
“Cas,” Dean took Cas’s hand and wrapped his fingers around the half, letting their hands rest together for just a second longer than necessary. “Having you to share a cupcake is a lot better than having a whole cake just for me.”
Cas smiled at him, accepting the cupcake. They ate in silence, Dean staring at the wall without actually seeing anything. He knew he should ask Cas about the search for Amara and find out if they have anything to go on, but Dean just didn’t want to know. The only thing Dean wanted was to just enjoy this moment of quiet and peace with Cas, enjoy his cupcake and pretend the world wasn’t ending for a change.
He lost count of how long they stayed there, just finding better positions on the bed, both laying on their backs, Dean’s head close to the headboard while Cas laid opposite to him, as they did so many times before. It was peaceful and calm and Dean’s eyes were starting to get heavy, Cas’s body warm by his side when Dean inched closer to him and if he could just get a good night of sleep—
The ringing of Cas’s phone jerked Dean awake, make him sit on the bed to see Cas answering it. He talked for a while, listening for most of it, his face somber and dark, assuring Dean that, whatever the news he was getting were, it wasn’t good.
Dean could feel the anxiety building up on him, his pulse quickening, his hands sweating, his legs bouncing up and down on the bed. When Cas finally hung up, Dean stared at him with big eyes, waiting and dreading what Cas was about to say.
“It was one of the angels I asked help from. She said they’ve found something, some signs that could be from Amara.”
“What?” Dean sat closer to Cas, not sure if he hoped for her to be wrong or right. “Is she sure?” Cas nodded, his eyes staring straight into Dean’s, the pain and the fear badly hid in them. “What is it, Cas?”
Cas sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It’s not good. She said the angels are scared because Amara seems angry, dangerous. They won’t go near her.”
“Of course they won’t.” Dean ran a hand on his face before standing up. “But we need to. We have no choice.”
Dean started to walk towards the door when Cas grabbed his hand and called, “Dean, wait.” He turned back to face Cas, feeling the weight of Cas’s hand on his when he interlaced their fingers. “Before, uh, before we go,” Cas hesitated, his lower lip caught between his teeth, his eyes avoiding Dean’s, and, right at that moment, Dean knew something bad was coming, something that was going to break his heart. “In case something goes wrong, there’s something you and Sam need to know.”
Hey there! Yes, it’s another PJO fic because why not, huh? This story came from this post from @sippingdaisies, which I haven’t strictly followed but I loved the idea it gave me, so I wrote it and it only took me six months yay
I hope you enjoy it!
Read it on AO3 or keep reading here!
*
Percy finds Nico sitting on the grass, watching Will lead the archery class—and why Will is the one leading it, Percy has no idea. At his first look, Percy hadn't actually recognized Nico; he's dressed in black jeans and a camp shirt, without his usual aviator coat, both of which are not usual for him. What does make Percy know it's Nico is the Stygian sword by his side and his silver ring glinting on the sun.
His footsteps don’t seem to startle Nico when Percy stops by his side, sitting with legs crossed and staring at the scenery after a few seconds of looking around. Percy has to give it to him: Nico chose a wonderful spot to sit and watch the camp.
The sun is rising in the sky but it’s warm enough to be comfortable and nice to be under it despite it being autumn—or maybe it’s just the camp’s magical barriers. Percy can also see most of the camp from the place, being on a small hill right in front of the archery area, giving a full view of the class, which Nico seems very interested in watching.
Percy smiles softly, placing his hands on the grass behind him and leaning back. Nico arches a brow at him, the corner of his mouth quirking up.
“Fancy seeing you here, Percy. I thought you were in Camp Jupiter.”
“I was but we got a few days off and I decided to come check on everyone.” Percy nods at the almost empty camp. “Though there’s not much to check on.”
Nico chuckles, nodding. “Yeah, most of the campers decided to go back to the mortal world. Something about ‘living a normal life’. You know, regular teenage stuff.”
Percy laughs, shaking his head. “Teenagers, huh?” He watches the small kids run around Will, playing with the arrows and bows—which Percy doesn’t advise anyone to do—screaming in joy, and seeming very happy about everything. “I’ve heard you were quite the rescuer this week.”
Nico groans, rubbing his hand over his face. “Did Will tell you too?”
“Nah, it was Chiron. He was very impressed and proud, so he called me. Very nice work, I have to say.”
A blush colours Nico’s cheeks and Percy smiles. “Yeah, if you consider passing out for half a day after the rescue a ‘nice work’.”
“Don’t undersell it, man. From what Chiron told me, you saved a lot of lives, the kids’ and the satyr’s.”
“Maybe,” Nico mumbles but the look on his face shows off some pride. “It was nothing, really.”
Percy hums sarcastically and waves at the kids. “Any of those are new? Or I just don’t recognize them for being away for too long?”
“Oh no, most of them are new.” Nico points at three out of the five children in Will’s care. “One of them arrived yesterday and the other two are some of the demigods I helped bring here.”
The three kids seem very young, seven or eight years at the most. Percy can’t help but feel sad and happy at the same time; he knows they’re safe here but he can’t help thinking about them losing their normal lives so young.
“Have they gotten claimed?”
Nico shakes his head. “Not yet but Chiron’s sure they’ll be soon if the gods can keep their promise.”
Percy nods, watching as one of the kids almost hits Will with one of the arrows, the bow too big for his hands. Nico points at the kid, his face in a frown.
“I rescued him a couple of weeks ago from a sphinx. Gods, this kid was really something. Even the sphinx didn’t seem to know what to make of him. I think it wanted to kill him more out of annoyance than anything else.”
“What do you mean?”
Nico sighs, resting his elbows on his knees and supporting his chin on his hands “Well, since he can see through the Mist, he saw what the sphinx really looked like and, when I got there, he was just walking around it, poking and asking a million questions about it, like why do you always ask the same question? Where are you from? Can you fly? Why do you have a body of three different species? I swear, I think that kid was only still alive when I got there because the sphinx was too confused about him.”
Percy chuckles, turning to look at the kid following Will like a shadow. “I almost feel bad about the sphinx.”
Nico scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You should feel bad about me because, now, he follows me around, asking so many questions that I don’t even know how to answer. All day, he’s following me, going everywhere I go, sneaking up on me, always asking something. Your dad is Hades? Does that mean you can talk to ghosts? Do you see dead people? Are you like the kid from The Sixth Sense? Can you kill someone if you snap your fingers? Are there any ghosts here now? Do dogs have ghosts? Can you see them too?” Nico keeps going, ranting about how much the kid talks, how he never seems to run out of questions, and how he has no filter whatsoever, and how Nico hides around the camp to escape the kid.
Percy only smiles, remembering the time he went through all of that with Nico years ago, how he once got on Percy’s nerves with all of his indelicate—to say the least—questions. Nico doesn’t even seem to notice how much Percy’s enjoying it, too busy gesturing too much, sometimes slipping into Italian when English seems to fail him. It’s entertaining and Percy can only say well deserved.
When Nico finally stops, he turns to Percy and frowns, squinting his eyes. “What?”
“Oh, nothing, it’s just… All of it, it reminds me of something, y’know? It happened a few years ago with me, but I don’t remember exactly what happened.”
Nico shoves Percy to the side playfully. “Oh, shut up. I wasn’t like that.”
Percy smirks. “Yeah, sure, nothing like that.” He tries to fake Nico’s younger voice, high-pitching his own, “Does it ever run out of ink? Do you fight a lot with Thalia? Does that mean you can surf really well?”
“You’re impossible,” Nico grumbles but Percy can see a small smile on his lips.
“Good thing I’m not your type, then, huh?”
Nico groans, burying his face in his hands. “Why did I have to tell you that? I’m never gonna hear the end of it, am I?”
“Gods, no. I need something to annoy you with so I’ll remember you of it every chance I get.” Percy smiles, leaning back on his hands. “Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.”
Nico sighs, throwing his head back. “I hate you.”
Percy chuckles, elbowing Nico playfully. Nico rolls his eyes with a small smile, muttering about how he has an idiot for a friend. They stay quiet for some time after that, watching the kids try to hit the target, until Nico bumps his shoulder against Percy’s softly.
“Thanks.”
Percy frowns, turning to face him. “For what?”
Nico shrugs, staring down at the grass. “For… everything. I mean, I wasn’t exactly the best person to you for a while and here you are, still my friend.”
“Dude, I completely get it.”
“I’m serious, Percy. The way I acted and treated you after Bianca—”
“Is completely understandable, believe me.”
Nico scoffs, turning his gaze away from Percy. “It wasn’t just that. I ran away after you told me about Bianca, I betrayed you…”
“And then you saved me,” Percy interrupted him again, bumping their shoulders. “Nico, you’re a good person, one of the best I know. The good you’ve done outweights any bad you’ve done or could do, and that’s what matters to me. You saved my life more times than I can count and, in the end, always fought for what’s right. How could I not be your friend?”
Nico’s lips open in a small smile as he looks back at Percy. “Thanks. Sometimes I forget you’re not a complete idiot all the time.”
Percy fakes disbelief, placing a hand on his heart. “You take that back.”
Nico laughs loudly, closing his eyes and shaking his head softly. “You are impossible.”
“And not your type, don’t forget about that.”
Nico rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath that Percy’s pretty sure it’s him called Percy some very unflattering things in Italian.
Percy smiles, bumping their shoulders again and turning forward to look at the other campers. He can see Nico smile softly as he watches Will teaching a couple of the new kids how to use a bow.
“That’s the kid I told you about,” Nico points at a little boy by Will’s side, his mouth moving a mile a second while Will looks desperate, his eyes searching for the two of them, pleading for help.
“You definitely told the kid to ask Will for his help, didn’t you?”
Nico laughs playfully, nodding. “Oh yeah, for sure.”
The two of them watch as Will gets more desperate and more desperate as he tries to answer all the kid’s questions, the others starting to get into it too, their voices growing louder so they can be heard over the others until the two can hear them all the way over. Neither Percy nor Nico make a move to help, too busy laughing between them.
