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John Winchester’s Ultimate Guide to Bonding with Your Child’s Significant Other
Step 1: Find out your child has a significant other
Heaven is… Okay, John thinks. He’s aware it’s a dramatic understatement and that he sounds ungrateful to God or whatever entity brought him here for whatever merit. It’s definitely better than purgatory, to say nothing of hell, but somewhat anticlimactic. It’s not eternal peace and light, there’s no sitting on clouds playing harps. It’s just… Life. But simpler, placid. Thus, more boring.
There are no monsters, no danger, no hunt, no chase. And anything you wish for just materializes on itself. John thinks he can get used to it. Sitting on Bobby’s porch, a cold beer in hand, with nowhere to hurry to, reminiscing old times and catching up on what John’s missed. Falling in love with Mary all over again and finally living a life they dreamed of.
Mary feels Dean coming before John even hears the rustling of tires on their gravel road. “Dean’s here,” she says and John’s heart drops. No, this cannot be, it’s too soon! He’s a bit disappointed that Dean ended up dead even younger than John himself. John taught him better!
Dean steps out of the car, their eyes lock and for a second it feels like Dean is ready to get back into the car and drive away. But Mary runs to him and embraces him and John frowns when he hears his son sob. But he’ll allow it. It’s an after-life reunion after all. And knowing Dean, John’s pretty sure his death wasn’t peaceful, so the boy needs to get over his trauma.
John greets Dean with a nod and a handshake. “Welcome home, son.” He says. “Are you hungry?”
Of course, he’s not. No one’s hungry, or thirsty, or tired in heaven. But John thinks, Dean’s got his meaning if Dean’s wry smile is anything to go by.
They have so much to discuss. Nightly chats by the fire pit is now their favourite pastime. Even as a hunter himself John has hard times believing some of the stories Dean shares. Collaborating with a demon? Befriending a witch? Going to an alternative universe and back? Killing Death? Defeating God and instating a new one? Dean did a good job keeping Sammy (and the world) safe.
This might sound wrong, but John can’t wait to have Sam join them. Maybe he’ll tell John what Dean’s been holding back. There are plenty of blank spots in his narrative. Like Dean’s avoiding mentioning someone else who took part in those adventures. Must be a special friend, John thinks. Well, it’s not too difficult get Dean to drink one too many and spill his guts.
Dean freezes and looks horrified once the name ‘Cas’ has left his lips. There’s so much pain in his eyes, even John can’t help feeling a bit sorry for the kid but he wants the details.
“So, Cas? Like in… Cassandra? Cassidy?” John frowns trying to remember more names that can be shortened that way. “Casey? Cassia? Castile?”
“Like in Castiel, angel of the goddamned Lord.” Dean mumbles grimly and takes a sip of his beer.
John allows the information to sink in. If he was shocked by his son having demons, witches and even a vampire for friends, a pet angel beats all of them added and multiplied. John’s always thought angels don’t mingle with the mortals.
“An angel, huh?” John drawls. “I’ve never seen one, not even here. Did he have wings and all?”
Dean purses his lips and shakes his head. John’s pretty sure he can see tears in Dean’s eyes. The silence drags on.
“Well, how did you meet?” John presses on impatiently.
“He gripped me tight and raised me from perdition,” Dean snaps. “He protected me, and Sam, and mom. He was there even when I pushed him away. He forgave even when I betrayed him. He always believed in me even when I was ready to give up. He made me a better man and gave me hope for a better future. And then he died. For me. And I…”
Dean sobs and covers his mouth. Tears stream down his cheeks and his shoulders are shaking. John watches, terrified, as his son falls apart in front of him. He tries to be disgusted. Wants to scold Dean for acting like a girl.
“What did you do, son?” John asks instead, surprised at how soft his voice sounds. He even manages to move closer to Dean and put his arm around Dean’s shoulder protectively. Dean sobs again.
“I fucked up.” Dean confesses. “Three wrong words was all it took to ruin everything. He died thinking that I…”
Dean cuts himself off and stops crying as if on cue. He shakes off John’s arm with irritation finishes his drink and storms into the house. John remains seated, looking into the fire.
He doesn’t need to ask which three words Dean meant. John saw it in his eyes, heard in his voice. And it feels like his entire world has shuttered. John’s never had much tolerance for that kind of thing, but it’s his son. It’s his own damn son. And an angel. Was this some kind of test to see if he was worthy of heaven after all? But wasn’t that against the Bible or something? Oh, right, there’s a new sheriff in town, maybe this God condones such shit or whatever…
John lividly throws his bottle into a nearby rock shuttering it into chiming pieces. It’s okay, it’s fine, they never have to talk about it again. Dean will get over it. He has an eternity.
Oh, but John would like to smash that angel’s face and pluck his stupid wings for breaking his boy’s heart!
John needs something stronger than a beer now.
He sits by the fire with whiskey for company throughout the night until the flames burn out and sun starts to break. It’s cold and the sky is slowly turning grey, the scenery is draped with a veil of translucent mist. Lulling rain begins to drizzle filling the air with sweet smell of grass and pine.
John gets up with a groan and walks into the house on unsteady feet. He climbs the stairs and finds Dean sleeping in bed peacefully. John realizes he’s never tucked his sons in. He instinctively pulls the comforter up to Dean’s shoulders and softly pats his hair. Still his son, though, right?
John sleeps in until almost midday when the rain is gone, the sun is shining blindingly, and it’s hot and stuffy in the house. John wakes up with a groan and cracks his stiff joints. Last night’s revelations feel a lifetime ago. John goes upstairs once again to check on Dean.
But Dean is gone.
Step 2: Meet the significant other
Okay, alright, fine, he’s got this. Okay, alright, fine…
Dean’s been gone three days by earth measures. John thinks it’s valid to start worrying. He’s already looked for Dean in all the places that Dean’s grown to love in heaven, but failed to locate him. Mary’s going to start suspecting something anytime now and no doubt will blame Dean’s disappearance on John. Yeah, of course he’s the villain! He trained the boys to be great hunters who prevented several apocalypses but boo him for not being emotionally available, apparently. John just can’t with this new-age gentle parenting. The boys wouldn’t have made it to their thirties if it wasn’t for him!
John finds himself sitting on Bobby’s porch, clutching his head and rocking on a chair anxiously mumbling about needing to find Dean before Mary realizes full gravity of the situation. Bobby is trying to be supportive, coming up with suggestions of where to look, and John doesn’t want to be ungrateful, really, but he’s already searched everywhere!
Heaven isn’t a town, isn’t a country or even a fucking continent. Heaven is an infinity of private worlds of all the people who’ve ever lived, with the worlds of those who used to know each other overlapping. There’s no address book (and no addresses), there aren’t roadmaps, places don’t have names. John doesn’t even know how to go further than the worlds of those he’d known.
“There’s another option, but you won’t like it.” Bobby says after some silence and John snaps his head up, looking at his friend hopefully. Bobby sighs. “You could ask Castiel for help.”
Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. John leaps to his feet and starts pacing. He’s so not asking for help the bastard who abandoned Dean as soon as the L-bomb was dropped. Problem is… John’s technically on the said bastard’s territory and if someone could help him navigate heavenly geography, it would be an angel.
John needs to set his priorities straight here. He flops back onto the chair.
“Fine. How do I get in touch with him?”
“Dean used to pray to him.” Bobby shrugs.
God, this is humiliating.
John finds a secluded wasteland and takes some precautions. Angel traps and holy oil must still work in heaven, don’t they? Once John’s done with the setup, he sits on the hood of the Impala and tries to clear his mind off unwanted thoughts about Dean and this Castiel guy first. He takes a deep breath and begins.
“Hey, um, angel? Castiel? Am I saying this right?” John mutters and immediately shuts his eyes as if expecting to be struck by divine lightning or something but nothing happens. “This is John Winchester. Dean’s father? We don’t know each other but I need your help. I get it you and Dean didn’t part on the best terms but he’s kinda gone missing…”
A gust of wind hits John and when he opens his eyes he almost drops to his knees at the sight of a pair of huge black wings and the bluest eyes ever. The look in those eyes is so fierce that if looks could kill, John would have been dead already. The wings are trembling but John’s pretty sure it’s not from wind but from angel’s rage.
“What did you do to him?” The angel hisses and John sees a smooth shiny blade slide out of the angel’s sleeve into his hand. John instinctively backs off when the angel charges at him, but the trap mercifully works and the angel stumbles as if he’s hit an invisible wall. With another hiss, Castiel lifts his other hand, probably trying to smite John with his angelic magic, but that doesn’t work either. John takes a relieved sigh and comes closer to the livid angel. He looks like a tiny lapdog snarling at an elephant or something. Adorably helpless.
“Sorry for the precautions,” John says meaning absolutely no apology, “couldn’t have you kill me before I even explain what happened.”
“You hurt Dean. Again.” Castiel spits.
“Hey, I didn’t chicken out on him in the midst of an apocalypse!” John argues. Shit, this isn’t working. He takes another meditative breath. “Listen, I get it, we don’t like each other very much and you’d rather leave whatever it was between you and Dean behind… But from the way you lashed out at me, I see that you still care for him. And believe it or not I care for him. I guess since this is heaven nothing bad could really happen to him, but he’s been gone for days and his mom is going to start worrying soon. You’ve known Mary, right? You know how she and Dean feel about each other. They can’t lose each other. Not again. Please, help me find him and you won’t hear from either of us ever again.”
John looks at the angel with what he hopes is a pleading look. Castiel’s gaze is just as fierce but at least he doesn’t look like he’ll stab John the moment he’s out of the trap.
“I can’t help you.” Castiel finally says and hides his wings, which John takes to be a token of a truce. “Our bond was severed after I…” Castiel doesn’t finish and John guesses it’s something about their breakup. The angel must have been very unhappy with Dean’s feelings for him.
“But he’s still here, right?” John presses on. “You can’t escape from heaven, can you? And if he’s here he can be found. You helped build this place – you know all its secrets. Just tell me where to look and I’ll leave you alone.”
“This isn’t how it works, John.” Castiel says squinting and tilting his head to the side funnily. “You can’t just ask for directions and follow them like a GPS navigator. You have to know where you’re going.”
“Then go with me.” John blurts.
Oh, shit. Did he just sign up for a road trip with this weirdo? At least judging by Castiel’s look, he’s not happy about the prospect either. But they both know it has to be done. For Dean.
“Fine. But I’m not doing this so you can come off as a good father. You’ve never been and never will be one. This is for Dean. It’s not the first time I’m saving him against his will.”
John breaks the trapping sigil and doesn’t even look at Castiel before getting into the car. Not a second later, the angel takes the passenger seat. John swallows uncomfortably. Is this how he and Dean used to travel? Endless hours side by side in confined space? John thinks he can see where the trouble started.
“Let’s lay out some rules right now, shall we?” John prompts. “Number one, no talking, expect for business. Now, where are we going?”
“Just drive. I’ll navigate us.” Castiel replies and… Is he for real? An angel is going to use a seatbelt?
John rolls his eyes and starts the car.
Step 3: Find common ground
John has no idea how this is supposed to work. He seems to have been driving straight ahead for hours now, somehow never running out of road, and there has been no comment from his companion. But John chooses not to question a celestial entity with superpowers. He can do without being shred to pieces with a snap of a finger, thank you very much.
The silence in the car becomes a bit heavy and so are John’s thoughts. God, he hates being left alone with his thoughts! Perhaps he’s been too harsh about the no talking rule. But then he thinks again about Dean and this Castiel and, no. John grits his teeth to the point it hurts.
“Hey, angel, check that glove compartment for me, will ya? There might be some music there.”
“It’s Dean’s car, of course there’s music.” Castiel replies like it’s obvious and reaches into the compartment as if he’s done it billions of times. Perhaps he has.
Castiel picks out and puts on a cassette without asking. As the music starts, John at once recognizes one of AC/DC’s guitar riffs. John huffs good-heartedly. At least the surprise twist in Dean’s character didn’t affect his music taste. What strikes John next, is the angel honest to god humming and tapping his fingers to the tune.
“Dean made this mixtape specifically for distant travels. And we had those aplenty.” Castiel explains after catching John staring.
“You like it?” John can’t help asking nodding at the player where the next song has already come up.
“Music is a valuable educational asset and it helped strengthen our bond with Dean.” The angel replies and mercifully doesn’t elaborate on the ‘bond’ meaning. Everything John knew about this relationship he knew against his will and didn’t want to know any more.
They keep driving like this for a while. Castiel looks out of the window like it’s the most exciting thing to do. John can’t help studying the guy a bit closer to at least try to understand what Dean saw in him. He can’t vouch for Castiel being good-looking, not an appreciator of male attractiveness himself, but the eyes are definitely something. Can’t say the same about his choice of clothes, though.
“Say, um, you keep wearing this… body for nostalgia’s sake or just can’t shift into anything else?” John allows his curiosity take the better of him.
“Angels don’t need vessels in heaven, we resort to our true forms but they can’t be perceived by humans. When you summoned me, I chose to take the form Dean used to know me in.” Castiel explains and falls silent again.
John wonders what Dean and Castiel used to talk about when they weren’t solving mysteries. What made Dean fall for him? Not the holy tax accountant outfit that’s for sure…
“So, remember how the plan was that I drive and you navigate? How about you start navigating?” John prompts and Castiel doesn’t even grant him a look.
“I am navigating.” He mumbles blankly and John’s blood boils.
“Oh, really? Feels more like driving in circles.”
“Apologies for taking so long. I was looking a breaching point.” Castiel replies and John is about to snap but then he looks out of the window again and his jaw drops.
He’s still driving straight ahead but the world around is changing rapidly. One scenery just blends into another, transforming as John drives. He watches rapturously and reverently as green summer hills outside the car rise higher and turn white until they manifest as spiky mountains, and a blizzard hits the car almost swerving it off the road only to melt into rain the next second, while the mountains sink into the greenery of a mixed forest.
“Fuck, it’s like shifting shadows in Chronicles of Amber.” John whispers. He can’t help rolling down the window to breathe in the fragrance of foam-like white cherry blossoms that have adorned the road.
“Yes, that’s an adequate comparison.” Castiel nods and John stares at him once again surprised.
“You’ve read it?”
“I did, it’s quite a page-turner. Unfortunately, I never had a chance to finish it. Stopped on the sixth book.” Then Castiel sighs almost humanly. “Dean recommended it. Said it was one of his favourites and reminded him of you. One good thing you gave him. Shame, I’ll never get to discuss it with him now.”
“Maybe you will.” John mutters under his breath. He doesn’t want to and shouldn’t be encouraging this relationship. But there’s so much genuine regret in Castiel’s voice, John can’t help feeling a bit sorry for him. Cleary, their breakup with Dean took its toll on Castiel as well, even if for different reasons.
Step 4: Buy them a drink
Hell, yeah, heaven is not just sitting on clouds playing harps. It’s not even picture-perfect white-picket-fence life. Turns out there are shadier, sleazier parts, backdoors that unsavoury characters and even creatures from purgatory can sneak in through.
As the car parks in front of a roadside joint reminding heavily of Wild West saloons, John feels in his element. He can practically taste danger on his tongue and immediately feels thirsty for a cheap, stinky beer. Only it’s not why he’s here. John gives Castiel a confused side-glance.
“So, what’s the plan?” John asks.
“We go inside, we blend in, we ask around.” Castiel replies matter-of-factly as if it should be obvious. “I have three theories. One, Dean’s got bored and gone hunting. Two, some of his former nemesis sneaked in here, found and captured him. Three, he tried to escape.”
“Escape heaven?” John raises an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t that mean… Resurrect?”
“You sound too surprised for a man who’s been brought back to life on several occasions.” Castiel lifts an eyebrow sarcastically. John can’t believe his ears. Is the angel… teasing him? John didn’t know they were capable of humour. On the other hand, having spent years with Dean and Sam Castiel must have picked it from them.
He chooses to focus on a different matter, though.
“Hunting, huh? Wish I knew earlier, so much precious time wasted.”
“Haven’t you had enough during your living time?” The angel’s voice is so judgmental John almost feels like getting down on his knees and repenting. “It got your wife killed, twice, it separated you and your sons, it brought you nothing but woe…”
“Yeah, and you sacrificing yourself made him shitless happy. Come on.” John snaps and gets out of the car. His blood is boiling. He’s this close to starting a fight with the angel.
John walks into the bar and takes a deep breath of familiar smell of stale beer, burnt grease, sweat and gunpowder. He makes a beeline to the counter and slips on an empty stool, then catches the bartender’s eye and signals for two beers. Castiel materializes right next to him.
“Fill me in a bit more.” John asks. “The hunting part. How do monsters get here? I mean, God is almighty, which means he allows it. Why?”
“Most who come here cause no harm and seek salvation. Others can be turned into assets. For example, restless hunters like yourself can take their frustration out on monsters instead of harassing other souls. God has a hands-off approach to running things in general… John, angels don’t eat or drink, what’s the point?” Castiel changes the subject abruptly as a foamy pint appears in front of him.
“Humour me. I bet you had a drink or two with Dean throughout the years.”
With a sigh, Cas does take a sip of his drink. John watches his unabashed face as he drowns half of his pint in one go.
“Alright, that pretty much explains your theories number one and two. What about ‘escaping’?” John makes air quotes.
“You’d be surprised how many people would rather go back to their miserable earthly lives than dwell in eternity here. Thing is, there’s no resurrection, especially when the body is destroyed. So the whole thing is just a scam that some creatures pull. Djinns feed on souls just as well as on actual bodies. Demons steal souls for hell. Those who do make it back to earth end up as ghosts.”
“Dean wouldn’t have fallen for a scheme like that. I taught him better.” John shakes his head and finishes his beer. He suddenly wants to spit it back out when he catches Castiel’s piercing look.
“You taught him to be ashamed of his feelings. You taught him that he’ll never be good enough. You taught him that everything is his fault. You taught him nothing good. You think you know your son, but you have no idea what he’s really like. I was blessed to have seen his soul. It was so beautiful even after everything you’ve done to him.”
“Is that what he told you about me?” John slams his refilled glass on the table spilling his drink. “Wanna listen to what he told me about you?”
“Don’t trouble yourself; I’m well aware that he resents me. Now can we please move on with our investigation?”
Castiel leaves John at the bar alone fuming and confused. What if he’s right? Maybe John really doesn’t know his own son that well. He never imagined Dean falling for an angel, a man! So perhaps Dean was capable of getting mixed in a shady scheme to get back to earth, to his brother, away from John?
If it were any consolation, Castiel doesn’t know Dean that well either. Because if he did, he’d know that Dean feels anything but resentment for him.
Step 5: Partake in an activity together
The intel they picked up in the bar hinted that there might or might not be a lone hunter who went after some monster living in some wood. It fits Castiel’s theory number one: Dean might have gone solo-hunting if he’s been as bored with heaven as his father.
John drives them to the landmark they were given, and then they hike into the wood, John carrying as many weapons as he could pick. He doesn’t trust Castiel with any. It’s enough that the guy has his angelic magic and an all-killing blade.
The wood turns out to be more sinister and powerful than they anticipated. As much becomes evident when John slips on slippery mud and goes rolling several yards down a rocky slope. He rests at its bottom groaning in pain and can barely hear Castiel scurrying downhill.
“That petty, huh? Couldn’t you break my fall with some of your magic or something?” John complains trying to sit straight.
“I tried but it happened too fast. Hold still, I’ll heal you.”
Castiel puts his cool palm on John’s burning forehead and squeezes his eyes tightly as if he’s trying to remember an answer to a tricky exam question. Seconds tick by and John doesn’t feel any better. Castiel pulls his hand off him in shock.
“My grace doesn’t work here.” He mutters.
“Great. Just so you know I’m not risking my life to save you if this monster goes after you.” John warns and picks himself up with considerable effort.
“The sentiment is totally shared.”
They hike on. It starts raining and with thick foliage and fog, the two can barely see where they land their next step. The wood fills with eerie sounds of howling, hooting and screeching. Soon John realizes that he’s tired and hungry. The wood must possess some magic of its own considering how all effects of heaven are reversed.
They find it after what feels like hours of walking: a stony cave going deep into a slope of a rock. It’s pitch black, no way to even estimate how far and deep it goes. John reaches for a glow stick, but Castiel stops him. John understands the angel’s meaningful look. If the creature is there, it’s no good warning it of their presence.
They stare at each other for a while unsure of their further actions.
“What if we’re wasting time and risking our lives for nothing?” John says suddenly disheartened. “Dean probably isn’t even here.”
“Perhaps, but we still kill the monster.” Castiel says and sounds so much like Dean or John himself.
They begin their dive into the dark. The floor is slippery and uneven so they have to move very slowly not to slip. The cave has stony, mossy walls and here and there, stalagmites rise from the ground. It’s silent. All they can hear is falling droplets of water, their soft footfalls and laboured breathing. Soon enough all light is gone; the cave entrance is nothing but a greyish dot behind them. With no sign of monster around, they agree to light the glow stick. It’s not much, illuminating barely several feet ahead, but it’s enough to start moving without fearing to fall into a hole or bump into anything. There are niches in the walls and in the very first they investigate they discover human bones.
As they move on they find more remains. Something stirs further in the dark; John almost trips but regains balance. He lifts his gun and releases the safety catch. Something soft touches his cheek. John rubs it on his shoulder but the feeling wouldn’t go away. Castiel peels it off John’s skin then holds it up into the glow stick’s light.
“Spider web.” Castiel concludes.
“Arachni?” John suggests.
Castiel looks up and his eyes open wide in shock and horror. John swiftly turns around. The dimming glow stick holds long enough for John to catch a glimpse of a huge spider crawling along the wall and a flash of its tree-foot-long sting. Then everything goes dark.
Step 6: Resolve the tension
“You dumbass motherfucker!” John punches Castiel in the face immediately feeling warmth of satisfaction spreading through his cold, stiff body. “You were going to do this again, weren’t you? Sacrifice your stupid ass! How would I look Dean in the eyes after that, huh? He already beats himself enough for letting you die, how many? A hundred times?”
“Oh, I beg your pardon! Should I have let that thing kill you? That would instantly make Dean feel better!” Castiel yells back. His nose is bleeding from John’s punch mixing red with the black-and-brown of spider goo he’s still covered in. Castiel repeatedly slams his fists into John’s shoulders pushing him backwards until John trips over something and falls pulling Castiel with him by the lapel of his stupid trench coat.
They’ve barely made it out of the spider cave when stress took its toll on them and both snapped. The rain keeps drizzling on their bodies tangled in the mud. Without Castiel’s grace, they both rely solely on their combat skills. John gloats a bit how scary it must be for Castiel to suddenly be on equal terms with a puny human.
Castiel gets John in a chokehold, but John jabs him in the ribs expertly and gets out of the hold. In his turn, he gets on top of Castiel, twists his arm and pulls the blade out of his sleeve, throws it out of reach. Castiel pushes up with all his bodyweight and throws John off. Both take just a second to catch their breaths and charge at each other again.
“This is so not about me risking my life, is it?” Castiel scowls. “It’s about me being there for Dean when you weren’t. Me saving him when you couldn’t. Giving him the love he never got from you.”
They’re a tangle of limbs on the ground. Castiel has completely disarmed John and now both are reaching for the discarded blade shining in the dirt.
“Some weird love language you have, Feathers.” John retorts and hits Castiel in the face one again, this time with his elbow. Castiel rolls off him with a pained groan and John finally grabs the blade. Straddling Castiel’s chest, he points the blade at his throat, and Castiel manages to block his hands with the tip of the blade stopping a mere inch away from his skin. “Offing yourself the moment it got a bit too intense rather than having a conversation. Very mature!”
“You did the fucking same!” Castiel overpowers John, twists his hands and the blade sinks into the ground next to Castiel’s head. John’s too distracted by hearing the angel swear for the first time and allows Castiel to roll them over. The angel pins John to the ground face-first and delivers a couple of punches to his torso, then flops onto the ground next to him exhausted.
“I didn’t leave him when he looked me in the eyes and begged me not to.” John pants and hears Castiel chuckle grimly next to him but doesn’t even bother turning his head to look at the angel.
“That’s not what he meant, John. ‘Don’t do this’, he said. He begged me not to ruin our friendship in the last moment we had together. But it was too late.” Castiel scoffs and stands up to pick up his blade, then wipes it on his destroyed trench coat.
“Goddamn stupid bitch.” John groans and rubs his face in exasperation ignoring the pain and making more mess of blood and dirt. “You go on and on about how I never gave him any love and ruined his life, but you did the same! You, the person whom he held high, whose affection he craved, you abandoned him when he needed you most! And don’t even start justifying yourself with ‘but it saved his life’ bullshit. I’ve done my share of it. It’s not an excuse. You did the easy thing. How much harder it would have been to stay and face your feelings.”
“I did face them.” Castiel frowns than chuckles grimly. “I see he didn’t tell you the whole story. What prompted the ‘don’t do this’ thing? Right before I died, I confessed my feelings for him. And that’s why I never came looking for him in heaven. So as not to antagonize him and hurt myself further. Those feelings haven’t changed. I love your son, John. I told him as much. But worry not, he’ll never say it back.”
John blinks at Castiel stupidly.
Okay. Wow. Oh.
That does turn some tables.
John looks at Castiel with some newfound perspective. Still an angel. Still a man. Still broke Dean’s heart, only in a slightly different way than how John perceived at first. Well, at least now John has one less reason to hate him.
“Looks like we both let him down.” Castiel voices John’s thoughts for him.
“Only makes sense that we both save him.” John replies. “Together. Whadya say?”
Instead of an answer, Castiel holds out his hand for John to grab and helps him up.
“Sorry for…” Castiel gestures at John’s bloodied face. “I’ll heal us both once we’re out of this wood and my grace is back.”
“Can your grace also conjure some food up? Cause I’m fucking starving. Where’s the promised milk and honey?”
“That was the land of Israel, not heaven. Did you sleep through all your Sunday sermons?”
This time John doesn’t hold back a laugh despite the pain in his beaten ribs. Yup, angels definitely have a sense of humour.
Step 7: Break bread
The wood doesn’t seem to be going to end. At least it slowly changes from sinister to quite welcoming with more green than black and grey. Naked ground covers with grass, alarming hooting turns into gleeful chirrups. They come across a clear looking spring and take a drink, which only makes hunger more prominent. In fact, John feels almost dizzy from it.
Eventually they stumble into a homely enough clearing, and John gives up, flopping onto the ground. Without a word, Castiel starts collecting wood to build a fire. Miraculously, John’s managed to keep his lighter during their scuffle and soon the fire rises, its warmth seeping into cold bodies.
“Take that off, let it dry.” John says tugging at Castiel’s coat and takes his own jacket off. He hangs their clothes on two sticks stuck into the ground by the fire and checks his gun for bullets. There’s only a couple left, but there are more in the car. That is, if they make it to the car.
“What are the rules here, can we hunt animals? Can’t save Dean if we starve ourselves to death.” John asks and Castiel gives him the okay.
Hares aren’t the best meat: it’s quite tough and smells awful, but they seem to be the only inhabitants of this wood stupid enough to come out. John shoots a couple with ease. They are heaven hares – maybe they’re a bit tastier.
They’re not. Still more tendons, fur and fat than meat. But John’s mouth still waters as he watches the carcasses sizzle and crust over the fire. John cuts the meat into smaller pieces on a big piece of dry bark and pushes this impromptu closer to Castiel. “Eat.”
“You should have all of it.” Castiel argues while his stomach rumbles desperately. “My grace will be back once we’re out of this wood and hunger will be gone, but who knows when you’ll have the next chance to eat.”
“Guess, the same guy who knows how soon we’ll be outta here. You might not get your grace back in time. Is it your hobby – dying on the Winchesters? Don’t make me pull the Dean card again. Eat.” John pushes the ‘plate’ even closer to Castiel while picking a piece of meat for himself and biting into it burning his tongue. With a sigh, Castiel picks a smaller piece and starts chewing with little appetite but as the saying goes, it comes with eating. Soon enough, Castiel is chewing enthusiastically and even hums contently. John scoffs. What a baby…
They’re halfway through the meal when Castiel chuckles. John doesn’t even need to ask. Castiel starts monologuing.
“Dean remembered moments like this sometimes, how you would sit by the fire with him and Sam, share what little food you had, you always giving your portion up to the boys and trying to cheer them up with some story. Dean told about a lot of good stuff actually. How you protected them at all costs. And would sometimes stop halfway to your destination just to take a breath and enjoy a beautiful scenery. I guess I didn’t focus on good stuff enough and only fuelled up on the bad stuff because it was easier to see things as black and white: you as the villain and trauma I could relate to. The ever absent and disappointed father, you know? Our father, the former God, didn’t even give us the little good you managed to give Dean.”
Although John still thinks Castiel has no business criticising his parenting, he thinks he can understand what the angel is saying. He even ventures patting Castiel on the back earning himself a quizzical look. The fire starts to die out and the sun is setting. John checks his and Catiel’s clothes and finds them dry enough to go on. They’d better be out of this wood before it gets dark.
“Thanks for the meal by the way, it was good.” Castiel says suddenly and John chuckles.
“Nah, it wasn’t. You should drop by for a barbecue if you wanna know what good means.”
Wait, did John just invite an angel, his son’s almost boyfriend (the word itself makes John sick) to dinner? John looks at Castiel in panic and spots an already familiar smirk.
“Thanks, John, but once we’re out of this wood and my grace is back all food will be just molecules to me.”
“Perhaps, but they’ll still be the best molecules you’ve had.”
And just like that, for the first time, Castiel laughs.
Step 8: Meet their family
When trees finally part, John practically yelps from joy, but his enthusiasm is quickly quenched when he realises that they aren’t back at the road. For as far as he can see, it’s a grassy plain with a random hill or bald rocky patch here and there. The grey sky hangs low and rain starts drizzling again. At least, it’ll be easy to see if any monster comes their way.
John looks at Castiel waiting for further instructions and becomes even more disheartened when he sees a distressed frown on the angel’s face.
“I take it it’s not a nice place?”
“No. It’s Elysian plains.” Castiel says.
“But that’s like… from Greek mythology? Their version of heaven?” John clarifies.
“In Greek, yes. Here, it’s the weakest point between worlds. If Dean wanted to find a breach back to earth, this would be the perfect place to look for one.” Castiel once again draws his blade and steps out from the shade of foliage into open space. “I can feel something. It’s dark.”
John charges his gun with the last remaining bullet and takes out a silver knife with some spells carved into its blade. They start walking along the plain. The wet grass soon dampens their shoes and hems of their pants. The clothes dried with such difficulty soaks again in no time. Both John and Castiel have to blink droplets of rain off their lashes all the time.
They come to a stop suddenly when they see it. A collection of stones reminding John heavily of Stonehenge. A chill runs down his spine. Castiel valiantly approaches the stones and examines them.
“This is it.” He whispers reverently. “They are gates to other worlds: purgatory, hell, earth, and… another. But it would take some tricky spells and rituals to open them.”
“Could Dean do it?” John inquires.
“Sam could, he had a gift for spellcasting, but Dean would need some help. Also I’m pretty sure it would take him more than a couple of days to locate and obtain Apostle Peter’s keys to heaven.”
Castiel suddenly gasps and clutches at his chest as if in pain. John instinctively dashes towards him to help but Castiel stops him with a gesture, a look of pure horror in his eyes.
“John, run.” Castiel whispers and then the earth starts trembling.
John’s not a fan of taking orders from someone but at the moment Castiel’s command seems like a sensible thing to do. Only John’s not gonna run alone. He grabs petrified Castiel’s hand and drags him away. Castiel almost trips but regains balance and they start running back to the wood. They don’t make it far when with a terrible crack one of the stones split open and John watches in awe and terror as black oil-like substance surges through the opening with deafening screeching.
“The fuck is this?” John cries as he keeps running.
“The Shadow.” Castiel replies out of breath.
“What does it want?”
“Me!”
The Shadow rises high into grey sky, curls and twists like a plume of smoke and John can’t get rid of the feeling that it’s sentient and is looking for them. With another screech, a tentacle-like appendage of darkness charges at them and sweeps Castiel off his feet with a whipping motion. Castiel falls to the ground dropping his blade and John grabs it at once, wielding it frantically cutting into the blackness but causing it no harm. The shadow lands a blow across John’s torso and he flies several feet away. Next thing he sees is the Shadow wrapped around Castiel’s body and dragging him back to the group of stones.
Fuck, no. John’s not having his son’s boyfriend die on his watch. Despite the pain in his undoubtedly cracked ribs, John stands up again, a blade in each hand and runs to Castiel’s aid. He barges right into the Shadow. It envelops him. Pitch-black, burning and freezing at the same time. It fills his throat like smoke. John holds his breath and slices the blades through the darkness again and again until he sees a flash of greyish sky. John slides the blades against each other and fiery sparks fly in all directions burning through the shadow. With another blood-chilling screech it dissipates for a second, letting go of Castiel and John barely manages to wrap his arm around Castiel’s body in an attempt to pick him up, when the Shadow charges another appendage at them. A thicker, stronger one. It tugs at Castiel, trying to pry him from John’s grip, pulls both of them towards the stones.
Holding both blades in his free hand John stabs them into the ground and they cut deep into it, slowing down the inevitable drag towards the eerie opening. Castiel gives out a pained cry but clutches at John’s arm holding him nonetheless. Another pull, and something cracks. John’s dislocated shoulder obviously.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, please, God!” John starts praying almost unconsciously and holding no hopes for a reply. “I guess you’re pretty busy but one of your angels is about to die. Fucking help him!”
A thunderclap booms and a lightning bolt hits the ground. Wind rises and blows in circles until it forms a twister but instead of coming from the sky it goes up to it. It cuts the shadow off its main body and it lets go of Castiel. It screeches and thrashes helplessly trapped inside the whirlwind. Catching his breath, John drags Castiel as far from the creature as he can. Then blazes of fire cascade downwards the twister, it sucks the shadow into its twirls and in a blink of an eye, it’s gone.
Everything falls silent. John’s still lying in the field clutching Castiel to his chest, soaking in rain and catching his breath. Then he spots a lonely figure walking briskly towards them. As it approaches, John realises it’s a young man dressed strikingly similar to his and his sons’ preferred attire. As the youth comes nearer, before John can even utter a word, he waves his hand and all pain and fatigue is gone from John’s body. He stares at the young man wide-eyed as he helps Castiel up.
“Long time no see, Dad.” The young man smiles at Castiel and hugs him.
“Missed you too, Jack.” Castiel replies.
John still watches them with his jaw dropped trying hard to process what he’s seeing.
“W-wait. This… is God?” John mutters and the two celestial beings finally acknowledge his presence.
“Nice to finally meet you, John, Dean’s told me a lot about you.” Jack says liltingly immediately giving John a sense of safety and peace.
“Yeah, about Dean… Could you, maybe, if it’s not too much to ask, help us find him?” John mumbles like a bashful kindergartener. Jack grants him a gracious, a bit patronising smile.
“I’m afraid it is a journey you’ll have to undertake on your own. Best I can do it teleport you back to the car.”
“Yes, please.” John and Castiel say almost in unison.
Jack snaps his fingers and next moment he’s gone while John and Castiel are standing on the roadside, with the familiar wall of the wood rising on its both sides and the car waiting devotedly for them. Castiel at once spreads his wings and cracks his neck with a satisfied groan. John just goes to lie down on the backseat of the car. There’s so much to process…
“So, I’ve just met God?”
“Yes.”
“And he’s like… twelve?”
“Nine, actually, if you count from his birth by human measures.”
“And he called you dad?”
“Both his parents are deceased, he chose me as his father figure and primary guardian.”
John scoffs and rubs his forehead dramatically, then burst into hysterical laughter. Castiel watches him with the trademark tilt of his head.
“Sorry, sorry.” John keeps shaking with aftermath chuckles. “Did I… Wait, let me wrap my head around it. I beat the crap of the God’s stepfather?”
“Technically, I won that fight.” Castiel reminds him.
John flips him off and sits up rubbing his face tiredly. Funny, they’re out of the damned wood, heavenly magic should work on them again, at least Castiel clearly got his angelic powers back, but John feels so exhausted like he hasn’t felt since the years spent hunting the yellow-eyed demon.
“Say, Feathers, you know how to drive, don’t you? Do me the honours? I could use some rest.” John climbs fully onto the backseat, kicks off his boots and curls into comfortable foetal position. It doesn’t escape him that Castiel hesitates getting behind the wheel. “Oh, bullocks, don’t tell me you can’t…”
“I can I just… Never drove her.” Castiel gestures at the car with obvious respect and admiration. “Dean was quite… territorial about her.”
“Well, she was mine before she was Dean’s, and I give you my permission to drive her.” John yawns. “But scratch her, and your sonny will have to put you back together from ashes.”
Castiel rolls his eyes so hard John can practically read all the witty comebacks on the whites. John so shouldn’t be starting to form a soft spot for him. But, hey, maybe if this makes Dean happy. If John can make Dean happy for once in their lives…
Step 9: Learn from each other
Abrupt rocking wakes John up and he barely manages to stop himself from rolling onto the floor by grabbing one of the front seats. The car comes to a full stop and John meets Castiel’s confused look in the rearview mirror. Feigned innocence and ignorance won’t fool John. He’s pretty sure the winged bastard did this on purpose.
“I think something’s wrong with the car.” Castiel states.
“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock, go fix it then, I’m going back to sleep.”
John’s been having such a lovely dream and now he can’t even remember what it was. But at least sleeping is a good excuse not to communicate with the angel, so John rolls over onto his other side to face the back of the seat. When he doesn’t hear the door open and close, though, he’s forced to turn back to Castiel once more.
The angel sits there motionlessly staring in front of himself.
“I… Don’t know how to fix cars.” Castiel confesses with apparent embarrassment.
“Hocus pocus, simsalabim, I don’t know?”
Now Castiel positively glares at him and with a sigh, John gets up and out of the car. Castiel obediently follows him and it has some placating effect on John. Reminds him of how the boys were young and followed his every order.
John gets the toolbox from the boot and hands Castiel the torchlight.
“Watch and learn, kid.”
“I’m millennia old, John, I don’t think ‘kid’ is an adequate moniker.” Castiel mutters and John barely holds back on a joke about age gaps.
John opens and props up the hood then has to physically manoeuvre Castiel’s hands holding the light so he points it in the right direction. Worse than Dean and Sam in their teens. Worse even than Adam and the kid didn’t know the first thing about cars. Yet John steels himself and starts patiently explaining engine parts to Castiel. There’s a minor failure in the system which John can fix in no time but instead he makes Castiel take off his trench coat and jacket, roll up his sleeves and go elbows deep into the engine. Several eyerolls, facepalms and insults later, with Catiel’s hands and face smeared in oil and soot, the car is finally back in operating order and John slams the hood shut with a satisfied phew.
“Guess next time I’m gonna teach you to hunt.” John mutters and throws Castiel a more or less clean cloth to clean up.
“I can hunt. I’ve been hunting with Dean and Sam for a decade.” Castiel argues as he rubs dirt off his face missing out one spot next to his ear. Like a baby, really…
“To hunt prey, Feathers.” John rolls his eyes, grabs the cloth from Castiel and wipes the tricky spot himself. “Butcher it, cook it. Can you at least cook?”
(You’d better be able to, if you want to keep hanging out with my son, John thinks completely unconsciously.)
“Yes, John, I can.” Cas replies dryly and goes for the passenger seat correctly assuming that John would want to drive himself now that he’s awake anyway. John gets behind the wheel and puts music back on. There’s something going on inside his head that he’s not ready to address yet.
They drive on as Castiel keeps bending the scenery around them. John trusts the angel just enough at this point to assume that he has a plan and knows where he’s going. Gradually, the trees around them become taller and turn golden. The road narrows, transforms into a barely visible track in the grass, and finally disappears altogether. John stops the car.
The sky has been becoming brighter and brighter as they headed deeper into the forest. And there are so many colours up there, like an aurora in the middle of the day. With light reflecting off golden leaves and silvery tree trunks, it is almost blinding.
Castiel gets out of the car. His wings pop out and light reflects off them in innumerable colourful sparks. Hell, Castiel’s entire body is alight and from where his sleeves are still rolled up John can see the glow of bluish veins of his human form.
“What is this place?” He asks losing his patience for Castiel’s solemn mystery vibe.
“We’re on the doorstep of the angels’ domain.” Castiel replies and John has to cover his ears. The words are a cacophony as of the angel speaks in a million of voices at once. “I thought, if we’re looking for Dean, maybe, just maybe, he’s gone looking for me too. And this would be where his search would bring him.”
“Alright, let’s do this.” John resolves despite the splitting pain in his head and curling of his stomach. He takes a step towards Castiel, but the angel stops him, lays a hand on his chest.
“Up there angels dwell in their true forms. Perceiving them is deadly for human souls. It will disintegrate you.”
John guesses Castiel must be telling the truth given how just standing here next to his not fully true form is hurting him. But when has mortal danger ever stop a Winchester from going where no man has gone before? Also, John’s not letting Castiel get all the credit for bringing Dean home.
“I’m not staying here while you indulge in more foolhardy heroics. What if you need help?”
Castiel watches him with an already familiar head tilt and eye squint. John can practically see it written across his face: help an angel against angels? Well, what can John say? Going against higher beings sounds like their family’s typical weekend activity.
“I can think of a way, but you’re not going to like it, given our mutual dislike for each other.” Castiel prompts. “I could temporarily merge your soul and my grace.
“Oh, hell, no.” John barks a laugh. “That’d be just too convenient, wouldn’t it? Get rid of me and have your happily ever after with Dean.”
“John, trust me, if Dean and I could have a happily ever after, you would have been the last thing to stand in our way. All I want is to bring Dean back to his mother and optionally not have you killed in the process.” Castiel chastises him.
“That’s the thing, I don’t trust you!” John snaps and tries to poke his finger in Castiel’s chest but pulls right back with a yelp. The bastard burns and electrocutes.
“That sounds like a you-problem, though, doesn’t it?” Castiel replies with an arrogantly raised eyebrow. “It’s your call, John, you wait here or we do this together.”
John contemplates for a moment. Well, the angel has had at least three chances to kill him so far and didn’t use them. Why should he do this now? On the other hand, if he does, John’s pretty sure Dean will be angry enough to break things off with Castiel for good this time and at least in after-after-life John will be at peace about his son.
“Will it hurt? The merging thing?” John asks apprehensively.
“No if you don’t fight it.”
That’s gonna be hard. A reserved man that he is, he’s always had trouble letting people in. To say nothing of angels. And a non-metaphorical letting-in. It’s about trust, John reminds himself. He’s taught Dean to be careful with whom he trusts. And Dean trusts this angel. So John will have to as well.
John closes his eyes, takes a grounding breath and nods. The last thing he registers consciously is a caressing touch of silky feathers on his skin.
Then everything is gone. The anxiety, the pain. John’s pretty sure his eyes are still closed, but suddenly, he sees.
His breathing seizes but he doesn’t need to breathe. Pristine aether just courses through him. John thinks that’s what being inside a finely cut diamond would look like: all around him is light and sparkly with myriad of colourful strings piercing the matter. That’s how Castiel travelled through heaven, John realises, sleazing in between these strings. That’s some new level of quantum physics or whatever.
Then John sees a tiny dark spot. Like a single ember, already black, barely pulsating with the remnants of red heat.
“Is that…” John whispers and hears Castiel’s thunderous voice again, only this time it doesn’t hurt him. On contrary, it washes over him like caressing waves.
“Your soul, yes.”
John looks at it pitifully. It shivers like a cold, hungry puppy.
“Are all human souls like this?”
“Of course not.” Castiel chuckles surprisingly good-heartedly. “Souls feed from human feelings. The more they feel, the bigger, the more beautiful their souls are. Dean’s soul, like I’ve said, is gorgeous. There’s so much love in it. For his family, for the entire humanity.”
“Oh, come on.” John rolls his eyes or he thinks he does. Some strings tremble and light glimmers. “This can’t be all about love.”
“Oh, John… Everything is about love.”
Then there’s another flash of light and John finds himself in that overused depiction of heaven with pearly clouds and…
“Angels.” John whispers.
They are enormous. Six-winged seraphim glide graciously past John and Castiel, each of their six wings seems big enough to cover an entire continent. Then clouds part and with deafening screeching and thumping, like that of an old clock mechanism, engulfed in rainbow-coloured flames thousand-eyed golden rings rotating in perfect synch roll into their direction.
“That’s an ophan.” Castiel explains. “They watch over heaven and earth. They see into the past, the present, and the future all at once. They know the location of every soul and feel what they feel. I’m going to ask them and since you and I are one now, you’ll see through their eyes too. So brace yourself.”
John watches reverently as the rings rotate faster, approaching him and Castiel, and then the world explodes.
Galaxies capture John in their whirlwind. Tears of generations of humans wash over him. Every heartbreak, every joy experienced since the creation of earth pierces through him like a needle. It’s the most delightful pain he’s ever felt. And then there’s love. There’s so much love and it starts seeping into John’s burnt soul. It tries to fight this, to coil tighter, curl in on itself, but there’s one timid but determined string that just wouldn’t give up. It’s Dean’s love he’s always felt for his father, despite everything. It wasn’t god or whoever that brought John to heaven. It was purely Dean’s love. His little righteous man.
John lets it fill his soul. Its blackness becomes iridescent; it grows and John gets it now. The raw, devastating feeling of the all-consuming love. John’s own emotions start filling him again. Some of their names John learns for the first time and he’s overwhelmed and breathless. It’s like he’s flipping through pages of a thesaurus remembering an entire block of vocabulary he’s forgotten.
All ophan’s eyes turn to John. He meets their gaze unwaveringly. Then there’s rumbling and cracking, like the very matter of the universe is tearing up, not sturdier than a sheet of paper. Within another flash, there’s calm and silence, and the chill of open space. John is floating in the infinity of it, surrounded by darkness, with distant stars glimmering far away and on the horizon, a supernova is being born surrounded by a swarm of opalescent clouds.
Right in front of him, is an entity taller than Chrysler building, of translucent, shiny olivine colour with its wings stretching as far as John’s eyes can see. And in its chest a fire of love is burning.
Step 10: Relate to them
John slowly comes to on the pleasantly vibrating backseat of the car. Castiel is at the wheel, driving smoothly and humming softly to the barely audible music playing. John’s brain is still pulsating with the weight of newfound revelations and knowledge, but he feels as peaceful as he’s ever had. Gone are all the anger, frustration and anxiety. When John looks around, he sees all the little details like his vision has switched from 144 to 8K quality. It’s a bit disorienting but might come in handy once he gets used to it.
John sits up with a groan and rubs his face. He doesn’t need to ask Castiel where they’re going anymore or if they’re there yet. He already knows. And it’s a bit frustrating to be a step ahead of himself. Also, discussing their route has so far been a convenient opener for a conversation. Now John doesn’t even know where to start and the silence sort of becomes uncomfortable.
“Would you like to take the wheel now?” Castiel asks as if having read his mind.
Damn, John sure hopes they won’t be in each other’s heads from now on. Especially not after they find Dean and the two lovebirds ride off into the sunset for their honey… eternity. Wait, is John suddenly happy to welcome this unexpected and most unlikely addition to the family? Hell, no. But is he going to try to be accepting if not supporting? Well, how hard could it be?
Apparently, hard enough for his own parents to never do even that little. Somehow, John’s completely shut out the memory of what it was like to be on the other side of the trench.
“M’good where I am.” John mutters and leans closer to Castiel. “Say, Feathers, we never talk about what happens after we find Dean.”
John doesn’t add “if” anymore. They will find him.
Castiel purses his lips and rolls his shoulders uncomfortably never taking his eyes off the road and never faltering in his shifting through diverse heaven’s scenery.
“My assumption was we go back to the way things used to be.” Castiel replies dryly.
John immediately gets the meaning behind these cryptic words.
“You’re gonna give him up. For me?”
John can practically sense the way Castiel rolls his eyes on his very skin.
“John, I’ve got to say, I’m impressed and even flattered by the way you’ve tolerated me for Dean’s sake throughout this mission. I wouldn’t want to impose such strain on you long-term. I know how unhappy you are with my feelings for Dean and I wouldn’t want to put a wedge between you.”
“Don’t make this about me, you, idiot.” John shakes his head with exasperation. “I’m not your responsibility. You can’t make everyone happy and if you try, you’ll only make things more miserable. Before Mary, after my Vietnam tour there was this girl. An absolutely lovely girl, fun, smart, kind, beautiful. Made me a better man, gave me something to hold on to when there seemed to be no point in keeping going. A girl I wouldn’t dare bring home. A girl I never told my parents and friends about. A girl I wouldn’t hold hands with and go out in public. A girl I loved more than anything and was mortally embarrassed of. A Black girl. One would think, if I loved her so much, sure, I should have told the world to fuck off and throw it at her feet. But I was a coward and my love wasn’t enough to go against the world. I let her down and gave her up. My only hope is that she had a better, happier life without me. And I’m telling you, make your love enough and tell the world, tell anyone who stands in your way to fuck off, me included. Be the one to give my son the better, happier life he deserves.”
John finishes and takes a deep breath. That was some monologue. Normally he doesn’t talk so much outside explaining some monster or laying out a strategy to hunt it. His wordiness, however, seems to have taken effect. When John looks at Cas’s face through rearview mirror, there are tears in his eyes. John’s heart skips a bit. He can feel it in the air: the fucking angel is going to do some stupid shit and break his boy’s heart again…
John tries to play it cool and deescalate the drama.
“This is the part where you say ‘thank you, John, does it mean I can call you dad’.” John jokes, but Cas gets out of answering by stopping the car.
“We’re here.”
Step 11: Exchange gifts
The road ends abruptly, disappearing into dense forest. What’s with this place and forests for all occasions? At least John should be grateful their escapade didn’t end up in a dessert. He could do without scorching heat, rough sand and severe dehydration, thanks a lot.
This forest is neither eerie, like the spider’s lair, neither mesmerizing, like the angels’ one. At first sight, it seems to be just it, a forest. Greenish-bluish with splotches of brown trunks. But it’s hot and moist, John can already feel the sheen of perspiration on his body. And he doesn’t want to admit it but his stomach flutters at the unknown that lies ahead.
But he has to play it cool. Castiel might be a millennia-old all-powerful angel with a kid of his own, but John’s still the leader, still the father. He really, really doesn’t like how he’s growing to feel paternal and territorial about Cas. And how he started shortening his name, even if only mentally so far.
“So, what are we waiting for?” John asks feigning enthusiasm and cracks his neck. He checks his gun then, and takes a determined step towards the forest, but Cas stops him by grabbing his shoulder.
“Wait.” John turns back to the angel, a bit irritated. What is there to wait for? Not another lame attempt at leaving John behind to spare his life and sacrifice himself heroically for the love of his life? “I don’t think your weapons will work here. Take this.”
Cas hands John an honest to god sword. It’s not very long and quite thin, delicate even. Unless John sensed at once that it was of angelic origin, he would have hard time believing that it wouldn’t break in half if John but bended it.
“An angel’s sword. Much rarer and more powerful than regular blades. I’ve been keeping it for someone… Worthy.” Castile explains. John stares at the sword, captivated.
“Won’t it be missed?” He asks.
Cas’s facial expression turns sheepish. Really, like a naughty child. Reminds John so much of all the times his boys were up to some mischief.
“I might or might not have stolen it a long time ago and listed it as unaccounted for.” Cas admits and John can’t hold back a sincere laugh. He pats Cas on the back approvingly and heads into the forest. He can hear grass and fallen leaves rustle as Castiel follows him.
Very soon, the ground turns swampy and it becomes hard to make out a track of solid ground. John picks up a stick and starts poking into the soil before taking a next step. Small pools of clear water start appearing here and there between trees. Some of them are covered with thin layer of bluish ice. Others have little lights shimmering around them.
One pool is particularly close to the track and John can’t resist coming closer to inspect. With a startled cry, he falls back and almost knocks Cas off his feet at well.
In the pool, a body is floating. John catches his breath and takes another look. It’s an old, casually dressed man. His eyes are closed, arms lay slackly along his body. His skin is pale and smooth despite the wrinkles. In his motionless state, he looks more like a marble statue. What captivates John most is his face. It’s so peaceful…
Cas walks a bit ahead and looks into another pool. John catches up with him. In this pool, there’s a girl in a medieval dress. Her auburn curly hair floats around her hair forming a halo. John feels a sudden childish urge to see what happens if he pokes his stick into the pool. Before he can act on it, Cas grabs the stick and throws it away.
“You think they can be dangerous if we wake them up?” John whispers misreading Cas’s meaning. The angel shakes his head.
“We can’t wake them up. It’s just disrespectful.”
They keep walking coming across more of these watery tombs. People in them are of different ages and dressed in clothes of different eras. Despite knowing for sure that this place poses no danger, John can’t help a feeling of unrest. There shouldn’t be dead people in heaven.
“Remember, how I told you that not everyone is happy to be here?” Cas prompts. “Looks like we’ve found the only real escape. Oblivion.”
“But aren’t they, like, already dead and at peace?” John wonders.
“They are, but technically they still exist.” Cas explains. “This, however… Eternal dream. True rest.”
Cold shiver runs down John’s spine. Why would Dean go to this horrible place? What was he missing in his afterlife?
“Does Jack know about this place?” John whispers reverently and before Cas even opens his mouth to reply, with slightest whooshing of air and rustling of leaves a beautiful woman appears before them.
“Hello, Castiel. John.” She says in a soothing voice acknowledging each of them with a slight tilt of her majestic head. John has hard time remembering how to breathe and quickly thinks about Mary so as not to drop on his knees and plead his undying allegiance to this epitome of the eternal feminine and raw power.
“Amara.” Castiel returns her greeting. “I see Jack separated you from himself and granted you a little dominion of your own.”
“What can I say, I like being useful and independent.” Amara replies with a smile and once again turns her attention to John. “I see where our sweet Dean got his looks from.”
John’s not blushing. He’s so not blushing! He’s going to pluck Castiel’s every feather if he ever as much as mentions seeing John blushing. Then realization hits him and he stares at the woman in horror.
“Wait… Is this her?” John clenches his fingers on the sword’s hilt tighter. “The Darkness?”
Amara’s laughter is as clear and cheerful as Christmas chimes.
“Dear John! Without darkness, there can be no light! May it be known to you that Jack and I have learned to coexist in perfect harmony. Besides, I would have never done our lovely Dean any harm. He’s so very special to me.”
John takes an inconspicuous relieved breath and casts a look in Cas’s direction. The angel keeps pursing his lips and glaring at Amara. John senses some romantic rivalry here and can’t contain an eyeroll. What is it with Dean and his dating preferences? An amazon… The Darkness. An angel who is also a man!
John cuts the staring contest by clearing his throat.
“Alright, Amara, um, miss Darkness, ma’am. As a token of you and Dean’s former friendship… Could you please maybe take us to him? If it’s not too much trouble?”
“Why, but you’re already here!” Amara chimes again and steps aside revealing a big clearing behind her, which John is sure hasn’t been there a second ago. The entire meadow is filled with water – it’s not just a pool like all the others, more like a pond. It’s filled with water lilies. Little fires burn here and there on the water surface.
In the midst of it all, Dean’s lifeless form is floating. An exquisite marble statue. With a poorly restrained cry, Cas dashes to the brim of water but stops in his tracks looking at Dean helplessly.
“Wouldn’t do him any harm, huh?” John asks Amara sarcastically. “Then why did you kidnap and trap him here?”
“John, I would never!” She replies in a scandalized tone. “He asked me for it. For true peace. He was so unhappy, John. His soul, his beautiful soul that our mutual friend Castiel here cherishes so much, it was in shreds! Torn between his devotion to you and his feelings for Cas.”
Cas performs a full-body turn to stare back at both John and Amara. His eyes are full of hope, despair and disbelief.
“We do share a profound bond…” He mutters stupidly and, seriously, if John has to roll his eyes once again today, they’re going to be stuck there forever.
“He’s in love with you, you pigeon-brained moron.” John exclaims. “With the wisdom of the universe at your service, after millennia of watching humans, with direct access to Dean’s soul how on earth, in heaven, purgatory and hell did you fail to see that he adores you? I heard him speak your name once and knew immediately how he feels about you. Damn, a nun doesn’t say ‘Jesus’ with as much fervour an reverence as Dean calls your name. And if you don’t believe me, lets have him wake up and tell you himself. Can you wake him up, miss Darkness?” John turns to Amara because, clearly, she’s the only other sensible adult here. Shit, why couldn’t Dean go for her in the end?
On the other hand, if Cas breaks Dean’s heart, at least John knows of weapons capable to kill him, but if this missy here did… Ouch.
Amara grants John a sympathetic, patronizing smile.
“I can’t wake any of my guests up.” She says. “They need a reason to stay awake. So you’ll have to give Dean one.”
She looks from John to Cas. Cas immediately hangs his head and steps away from the pond without turning back to spare Dean another glance.
“His family has always been the most important to him.” Cas says in devastated tone. “With your newfound wisdom, if you can show him enough love, I believe he’ll be happy to come home with you.”
John wants to turn it all into a joke. Say something bitter. Ruffle Castiel’s feathers, because that’s what John is, a bitter old man. But this is about Dean. Like he’s always done, in the end of the day John steps over himself and does what’s best for his boy. And if it means going soft for once, then let it be.
John lets his shoulders drop and jaw unclench. With a tired smile, he lays a hand on Cas’s shoulder.
“This isn’t a competition of who loves him more, Cassie. It’s about moving on. We’re both his family, kid. But I’m his Family Past. Sam, I guess has been his Family Present. You, though… You have what it takes to become his Family Yet to Come. I guess you don’t really need it, but you have my blessing. Take good care of my son.”
John lets go of Cas’s shoulder and pushes him closer to the pond. Not only to hurry the angel up but to avoid him seeing John tear up.
Cas takes a deep steadying breath and gingerly takes off his coat and jacket before stepping into the water. It must be cold – John sees Cas shiver. Flowers part in front of him and little fires grow taller and reach after him. When Cas reaches Dean, for a moment John holds his breath. It seems to him that Dean will disappear, dissolve in the water like a splotch of paint. But no. Cas puts his arms underneath Dean’s body and gently lifts him up.
John hears water trickle from Dean’s hair and clothes. Cas looks at his lifeless form with such adoration and awe, John’s not sure he’s ever seen a man look at a lover like this. Well, Cas is an angel, so perhaps he doesn’t count.
Cas spreads his wings and with a gentle flap that sends glimmering droplets of water in all directions starts rising up in the sky. Wind rises and above the opening in the foliage clouds part. The sun is huge and blinding. Linings of the clouds shine with pearly colours. The two figures sink into the light.
Cas holds Dean tight letting his grace seep into him as sunrays caress Dean’s face. His pale skin slowly regains colour and each of his freckles lights up like a tiny star. His eyelids start to tremble. With an annoyed grunt Dean opens his eyes and stares at Cas perfectly mimicking his expression of adoration. Cas greets him with a soft smile.
“Hello, Dean.” Cas whispers. Dean swallows and parts his lips seemingly about to say something and Cas hurries to take the initiative and do some explaining. “Apologies for…”
Dean cuts him off by grabbing the back of Cas’s neck with his hand and bringing their faces closer until they share one breath and then their lips meet.
A heatwave rolls through Castiel’s body followed by a cold spell. He feels like his very grace has disintegrated into quarks that travelled to all ends of the universe and back.
The strings of matter vibrate around them singing in deafening discordance and as it reaches its highest pitch, for a moment everything is gone. There is only the caress and warmth of Cas’s grace wrapping around Dean’s glowing iridescent soul.
From the ground, John watches the blinding flash of light fade revealing two man-shaped figures in azure sky. Even from this distance, it’s clear that they’re kissing, because, of course they’re kissing. John’s so making them get home on their own if they’re planning on keeping with the PDA.
Next to him, Amara, too, is watching the pair with a content smile. A gust of wind rustles in the leaves and when John turns his head, he almost jolts from surprise as he sees Jack standing on his other side. Although John’s heart isn’t technically beating anymore, he does feel like he’s just had a tiny heart attack.
“Gotta give a man some warning, god!” John pants and the boy grins at him shamelessly.
“Just Jack is fine.” He says and John just… Can’t. Whoever his parents were, he’s so clearly Cas’s kid. Also, somehow, there’s something so inherently Dean’s in him, like he truly could be… theirs. John really needs to derail this train of thought.
“Why are you here? Is there a problem?” He asks. Cause, sure there has to be something urgent for frigging God to attend to it personally.
“Oh, no, I just came to cheer for them.” Jack reassures him. “Also they might have just killed the Shadow and destroyed the Empty, but I’ll tend to it some other time.” Jack shrugs as nonchalantly as if he wasn’t talking about a primordial entity getting eradicated.
“Destroyed the Empty?” John elaborates completely ignoring Amara giggling by his side. “With what? The frigging power of love?”
“You have no idea what the power of love if capable of.” Jack informs him with utmost earnestness. He’s so serious, it’s amusing. John scoffs. On a whim, he tousles Jack’s hair registering only in hindsight that he’s touching God but at the moment to him Jack is just a kid, de facto, his adopted grandson, and John has a vague idea that Jack is okay with this familiarity if his happy smile is any indication.
“My part here is done, I believe.” Amara says, gives Jack a very mother-like peck on the cheek and then does the same for John. Okay, maybe John starts to understand Dean’s attraction to deities and monsters. “See you around, Jack. A say hi to Dean for me, John. It was nice meeting you.”
She disappears into thin air and Jack does the same after giving John a tight, unwarranted hug. Alright, John’s getting a bit overwhelmed with all his new family members and their over-the-top physical affection. John looks up at the sky again and sees Dean and Cas still enthralled in each other. Doesn’t seem like they’re planning on coming down anytime soon.
“Well, guess I’ll just wait in the car.” John mutters to himself and, of course, with his very first step he sinks knee deep into swamp. Really, hasn’t he learned his lesson in humility enough?!
Step 12: Carry on!
The Winchesters are having a comfortably silent breakfast when a whoosh of air announces the arrival of their newest addition. John’s been hard on his no-zapping-inside-the-house rule, and Cas has been perfectly respectful of it, always landing on the porch before walking in like a normal human being. He still sheds feathers here in there in the house, though, as if just for the sake of it. And there’s another rule he insists on ignoring…
“Are you serious? Right in front of my pie?” John mutters and rolls his eyes as Cas gives blushing Dean a kiss on the cheek before taking a seat next to him. Mary puts a placating hand on John’s forearm, but really, John doesn’t need placating. Not anymore. Not after what feels like eternity of seeing his son happily in love with an angel.
But perhaps an eternity it has been. Time works differently in heaven. John’s especially aware of it after his visit to the angels’ realm. He smiles watching Cas’s grace and Dean’s soul ignite little sparks where they touch and the way Mary’s soul glows in warm sunset colours of her happiness for Dean.
Suddenly, Dean jerks his head up, searches for something with his eyes and seems to be listening to something the others aren’t in on. Then Dean smiles widely.
“Sam’s here.”
John’s heart skips a bit. So it’s been this long. Then he smiles too. He can’t wait to hear all about the life Sam’s had on earth.
“Would you like me to take you to him?” Cas offers, but Dean shakes his head and pulls the Impala’s keys from his jeans’ pocket.
“Nah, I’m gonna go pick him up myself. Might need some alone time.” Everyone nods understandingly and Cas gives Dean a quick peck on the cheek before Dean gets up and starts heading out. He stops two steps away from the door and looks at John with a cheeky grin. “I can feel that Sam’s wife Eileen will be joining us quite soon. Please, dad, don’t take her on your ‘meet the parents’ quest.”
Mary bursts out laughing and John wags his finger at Dean jokingly. Of course, he’s going to spare Eileen. But someday Adam will be joining the family too and John just can’t wait to see what kind of partner his youngest brings with him. The sword that Cas has giving him is of course hanging in their living room solely for decorative purpose.