puppycastiel:

13.05 “Advanced Thanatology” Coda.

“I just need a win,” Dean says to Sam, and he can’t bring himself to look his brother in the eye and see the concern, the sympathy. Dean can count on one hand the number of times he’s admitted to Sam that he isn’t okay, and with all that’s happened he’s feeling so raw and- “I just need a damn win.”

He doesn’t believe it’ll happen.

Sam conks out somewhere along the road and Dean turns off the radio to let him sleep. That crick in his neck is gonna be a bitch, but the hunt really drained them and Dean could use the quiet. It’s just the hum of Baby’s engine and the long stretch of pavement, and that nagging, hollow feeling in his chest subsides a little when he can focus on driving. He still sees blue and a soft, soft smile like horrible replays ingrained in his mind, although he figures they’ve been fixtures there for a while. He doesn’t expect them to ever go away.

The ring of his cell phone surprises them both. He’s not waiting on a call and it’s an unknown number, though that isn’t uncommon given what they do. “Yeah,” Dean answers gruffly, the selfish part of him hoping it’s not another hunt.

There’s no reply for the first few seconds, and Dean’s about to gripe at whoever’s on the line when a voice comes through and he’s stunned into silence. “Hello, Dean,” comes two, simple words, and suddenly, Dean can’t breathe. It’s Cas, unmistakably Cas, and god, Dean aches for him.

Cas looks just as shocked to see them, lit only by the light from the dingy pay phone and turning around at Baby’s doors closing shut. Instinctively, Dean scans him for signs he might be hurt but doesn’t find any, and sees instead that his eyes are wet, all wide and gorgeous and fuck. Fuck.

They stare at each other like they’re both unsure of what to say and how to say it, but in the end it’s Cas calling “Dean” and Dean just crumpling, going to him.

“How-” Dean starts to ask until he decides it doesn’t matter right now. “Cas, you son of a bitch. Do you even know-” His vision blurs.

Cas moves first, a step into his space, slowly reaching up to thumb at Dean’s tears. “I know,” he murmurs gently and Dean can only swear and pull him close.

The lapels of the coat are starched and new, hardly wrinkling when Dean grips them tight and lets their lips touch like ocean and sky. It’s painfully familiar and he can only think home yet, at the same time, it’s a feverish rush. He died today and came back to life, but only now does his heart start beating.

“Never do that again,” he grits between kisses, goddamn furious and deliriously happy as if he hadn’t been void of emotions since he lost Cas. It’s like his world is in color again, and when Cas says “Alright,” he- Dean believes him.

He flushes and coughs when they pull apart and Sam is fighting a smile with eyes just as wet. “We were due for a win,” is all he says, and Dean reaches for Cas’ hand.

Good things do happen.