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Castiel couldn’t remember ever being woken up by something as simple yet wonderful as the rays of the rising sun.
When living in a bunker where most of the rooms were underground -locked away from the rest of the world-, a natural wake up call such as that was very much out of reach. Instead, the annoying alarm clock on his phone usually had to do the job. Either that, or Dean yelling him awake from the other side of the door because there was a hunt that they needed to get ready for. Or sometimes even because it was ‘laundry day’, which Dean claimed was utterly important.
Somehow, today was different, strangely so. The warm glow of orange and yellow waiting behind Castiel’s closed eyelids made him blink his eyes open, inviting in a lot of confusion when he became aware of his surroundings. The bed that he’d been sleeping in was huge, more like enormous, almost big enough for three people to sleep in it. The room was spacious and light; drowning in the daylight that Castiel secretly craved in the mornings when he woke up, but couldn’t have.
Glancing to his right, he spotted the giant, floor length window that was offering him aforementioned light. He crawled out of the bed, still mildly disoriented, wobbling towards the window on unsteady feet. He couldn’t tell which floor the apartment was on, but he’d settle for ‘way up high’. Close to the sky. So close that Castiel felt connected to it in a way that he hadn’t experienced since he’d fallen and lost his wings.
Breathtaking shades of gold, orange and violet were mixing with blue, only interrupted by a sky scraper here and there. Below, the city was coming to life.
Somewhere, deep down, hidden behind the foreign feeling of warmth and contentment, Castiel knew that something was off. He was feeling a little disjointed, like that one time when he’d decided to join Dean for a couple of strong drinks only days after he’d become human.
This wasn’t the place where he was supposed to be, was it?
Looking away from the window, he noticed a small painting on the wall, on it sunflowers and honeybees. He did know that painting… Perhaps he did have a little too much to drink last night after all. What had he been thinking about earlier anyway? Dark rooms, underground. Dean yelling at him to wake up and get ready for the day… That didn’t seem right, but Castiel’s brain didn’t cooperate, memories shifting. He couldn’t quite figure it out.
He frowned, turning his head and staring out of the window again. Small drops of rain were clinging to the glass now, but the sun never faded. The carpet was soft and warm, enveloping his bare feet. Looking down, Castiel’s eyes fell on the striped pajama pants and soft shirt that he was wearing.
Did he own any of those things? He probably did.
He didn’t get another second to think about it, when two warm arms suddenly snaked around his waist, another body hugging him from behind. A chin rested on his shoulder, and Castiel inhaled the appealing scent that he would know whenever, wherever. Dean.
“Morning, angel. Sleep well? I’m making breakfast for us, in case you’re hungry.”
Hesitantly turning in the embrace, Castiel’s eyes met bright green ones, the brilliant sunrise reflected in them.
“Dean…” He whispered, awed.
They didn’t normally do this, did they? Castiel wanted to, of course, but that wasn’t what Dean wanted… Or did he?
Dean chuckled, oblivious to Castiel’s train of thought, raising his eyebrows at Castiel. “Yeah, who else? I mean… I sure hope you’re not thinking about other guys whenever I leave you alone for a minute.”
Before Castiel could respond to that, Dean gently pecked him on the lips, ruffling his hair as he pulled away. “I’m gonna check on the pancakes, see you in a sec?”
Again, Castiel didn’t have a chance to answer, and with one last wink Dean turned around and skipped out of the bedroom. Their bedroom, Castiel now recalled for some reason. Before Dean disappeared around the corner, Castiel observed that he was only wearing a pair of boxers and a worn t-shirt. Didn’t Dean always wear more layers, by default?
Castiel couldn’t dig deep enough in his brain to solve that riddle. He was probably just being absurd. Maybe he did have a hangover. He was about to follow Dean when he suddenly felt an unknown weight around his finger. Holding up his left hand, he studied the ring there. White gold, two gemstones. Emerald and sapphire, going together perfectly. Fancy. A wedding ring, no doubt about it.
Castiel couldn’t have stopped the smile creeping up his face even if he’d wanted to. Dean loved him. Dean loved him like he loved Dean. And they were together. Happy. Some place where they weren’t forced to hide from the sun.
With a skip in his step, Castiel followed Dean, somehow easily finding the way to the kitchen that was almost familiar when he laid eyes on it. Almost…
~
“Thank God for Sundays, it’s good to have a day off.” Dean murmured into Castiel’s hair.
They were watching a movie that Castiel didn’t know, but that Dean seemed to enjoy. Castiel didn’t care, because everything was perfect. The two of them curled up on the couch, his head on Dean’s shoulder, Dean’s hand tenderly rubbing Castiel’s back. Castiel felt the exact opposite of all the things that he vaguely knew existed at the back of his mind. The cold, the hunger… The unrequited love.
At Dean’s mention of having a day off, more memories flooded Castiel’s brain. He owned a bookstore a few blocks away, and he loved his job. Dean worked at the biggest garage in the city, and he was the manager there. They worked, but they did things that were close to their hearts.
“Hey Cas? I told Sam and Jess that we’d be okay with them coming over for dinner tonight… And it would be kinda awesome if you could make your famous chicken ala Cas. Only if you want to of course, but you know how Jess digs it, and she has serious cravings these days.”
The recipe automatically popped up in Castiel’s head before he could worry about it. As well as the image of a beautiful blonde woman, cheeks glowing, belly round, Sam watching her with a proud grin.
“Yes, I will…” Castiel agreed immediately. “I can’t wait for our niece or nephew to be born.” He added, smiling at the thought.
Dean said nothing, just held him tighter and planted another kiss on top of his head. Castiel wondered what he’d ever done to deserve a life this perfect.
~
“Baby? Are you gonna come to bed with me?” Dean’s low voice was a whisper, his hand gently rubbing Castiel’s shoulder.
Castiel startled awake, sleepily looking up at Dean. After Sam and Jess had left, he’d fallen asleep on the couch while watching some documentary on National Geographic. Dean was smiling at him nonetheless, and Castiel nodded.
“Yes… I’m sorry I fell asleep on you.”
Dean laughed softly, his thumb stroking along Castiel’s jaw. “You had a long week, don’t apologize. I’ll be in the shower, join me whenever you’re ready, deal?”
Castiel nodded, overwhelmed by Dean’s concern.
Once Dean had left the room, Castiel got up from the couch, his head a little fuzzy, but otherwise feeling good. Dean had said that it had been a long week, he was probably simply feeling tired. He took a few steps towards the large window at the other side of their living room.
City lights were twinkling, stars in the night sky winking at him. He lifted his hand, his fingers touching the cool glass. Close to Heaven, like Castiel wanted to be. But at the same time close to Dean and his earthly family, whom he loved. Castiel grinned, full of new energy to go and find Dean in the shower.
He dropped his hand, turning his back on the window, then muffled a scream when he was suddenly face to face with Dean.
But not his Dean, he could tell right away. Not the Dean that was sweet, and gentle, and smiling about the silly things that Castiel did. This was the Dean who was always hiding behind the too many layers that he was wearing, the way Castiel remembered from what could as well be another life or a distant dream. The snarky Dean with the almost permanent grimace on his face, along with dark circles under his eyes that betrayed his exhaustion.
“Dean?” Castiel almost choked on the name this time, slowly taking a step back. “What are you?”
This Dean rolled his eyes, but then his face turned earnest. “Look buddy, you can’t stay here, this isn’t real. He isn’t real. You gotta wake up or you…” A pause. “Cas, I can’t save you if you don’t wake up.”
Castiel assessed the green eyes boring into his, his head spinning.
“He isn’t real, but you want me to believe that you are? How are you even here?” Castiel challenged, even though an eerie feeling in his gut told him that something was wrong.
“African Dream Root, it’s a long story, I just…” Dean took another step closer, a calloused hand landing on Castiel’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t have gone after that Djinn on your own, it wasn’t a one man case, especially not now that you’re human. Sammy and I can still save you but only if you… If you want to come back to us. To me. The real me…”
Castiel felt sick to his stomach. The Dean before him looked almost panicked, as if something major was at stake. Castiel still knew that feeling. The feeling of something big being at stake. Always, never a day off. It was so far from the life that Castiel had been living the past twenty-four hours. Terrifying, unwelcome.
Tearing his eyes away from Dean’s, Castiel’s gaze dropped to the ring on his finger. Emerald and sapphire, meant to be together, meant to mix. Meant to complete the other.
“No.” He snapped.
Time passed, Castiel didn’t know how much.
All he knew was that the Dean in front of him looked lost and broken at Castiel’s reply.
“Cas…” He pleaded, and then Castiel’s vision blurred, the sensation causing him to close his eyes.
When he opened them again, he was alone. The room was quiet, aside from the sound of the TV in the background, the water of the shower running in the distance.
Everything felt right. And Castiel knew what he wanted. He ran a hand through his hair before making his way to the bathroom that he and Dean shared.
~
The sun was rising again. Castiel gazed out of the window, lying there in Dean’s arms. Dean was quietly snoring in his ear, still asleep. They’d made love last night, after that shower. It had been perfect.
Everything was perfect. And that was how Castiel realized that it wasn’t the real thing. Because his life was never perfect. On the contrary; it wasn’t even remotely enjoyable most of the time. He looked back at Dean’s sleeping face, the sun highlighting Dean’s freckles and his long lashes.
All Castiel had ever wanted, but not real. His chest ached as he pressed a kiss to Dean’s cheek.
“I love you… I’m sorry.”
He made sure to sneak a glance at the ring on his finger one last time before he closed his eyes, trying to focus. He’d broken mind control before, it wouldn’t be the first time. He had to try, for Dean. The real Dean… Even if he would never get what he wanted.
~
“Cas? Cas, are you alright? Hang on…”
Castiel opened his eyes, barely recognizing Sam Winchester’s face. Everything hurt. His mind, his body, and soul. He was in too much pain to consider replying.
“You gotta hold on, okay? Dean’s getting the car, we’re going to get you home…”
The words echoed in Castiel’s mind, but he didn’t know what to do with them. He passed out before he could look into it, too tired and dizzy to speak or think.
~
When Castiel woke up again, his surroundings weren’t foreign. A bedroom, decent enough, but dark. No windows, no daylight. No stars, no sun, no sky. The bunker. He checked his hand, on top of the covers, seeing that there was no ring. His heart clenched painfully.
He rolled onto his side, spotting the glass of water on the nightstand. There were a couple of painkillers as well. Dean’s doing, Castiel assumed. The real Dean did take care of others, as long as feelings or physical affection weren’t involved.
Castiel wrestled with his pillow and the covers until he was sitting against the headboard, swallowing the pills down with a dose of water. His sore body was in less pain now, and he slipped down again, resting his head on the pillow, ready for another nap. Sleeping was good, it meant shutting out reality.
He was already dozing off when the door to his room opened.
In walked Dean, tentatively sitting down on the edge of Castiel’s bed without asking. Castiel stared at his best friend, words failing him. He felt embarrassed as green eyes stared down at him with worry, because Dean had been there, in his mind, in his fantasy world. He’d seen what Castiel desired above all else.
“I’m sorry.” Castiel croaked eventually when the silence became too awkward, his voice raw.
Dean huffed then, his hand reaching for Castiel’s, much to Castiel’s befuddlement.
“Sorry for going after that Djinn alone? Yeah, you should be, Cas. That was a freaking suicide mission, you’re lucky we found you in time.” Dean chastised, but there was no real anger behind his accusation. “Losing you is really not an option for me, so you can see why I’m kinda pissed here.”
Castiel looked down at their intertwined fingers, briefly wondering if he was still lost in a carefully crafted world of hallucinations. The real Dean wouldn’t do that. Would he?
There were a million questions that Castiel wanted to ask, but he was too tired. Too worn out to even open his mouth.
Dean sighed, squeezing his hand.
“You gotta get some rest, Cas. We’ll talk about this later.” He promised, his tone softer than Castiel had ever heard it. “Go to sleep, angel.”
Castiel’s mind had made up that last part, that was the only explanation that made sense. His mind also had to be making up the hand brushing against his forehead as he drifted to sleep.
~
There was no way to measure how long he’d slept. Hours, days maybe. Come to think of it, days had to be more accurate. In all fairness, Castiel felt better, finally in touch with reality again. His stomach was growling as he got out of bed for the first time in about a week.
He tiptoed to the bunker’s kitchen, in need of some food, hoping that he could get to the fridge without being noticed.
No such luck, story of his life; Dean was standing at the stove, and Castiel froze in the doorway. His plan B was to sneak away before Dean would hear him, but he failed, for Dean turned around, looking him straight in the eye.
Castiel’s stomach contracted painfully when he came to the conclusion that Dean was only wearing sweatpants and an old shirt, his hair an uncharacteristic mess. It reminded him of that other Dean. That Dean who’d been in love with him too, even if it never was real.
“Heya, Cas…” He greeted, trying for a smile. “Hope you’re hungry, I’ve been making pancakes for the past five mornings, but you never showed.”
Castiel was baffled.
Dean had seen everything. Everything. Yet he wasn’t upset. He didn’t hate Castiel, apparently. Was even determined to make Castiel breakfast.
“But… Aren’t you mad at me, Dean?” Castiel questioned as Dean gestured for him to sit down at the kitchen table.
Dean shrugged nonchalantly. “Still a little mad at you for almost getting yourself killed, yeah. But then again, I’ve accidentally done that myself, plenty of times. Who am I to judge, huh?”
Castiel squinted at his friend as he chose a chair, sitting down, eyes darting to the plate that Dean placed in front of him right away.
“I know.” He muttered as he picked up his fork despite it all, his empty stomach winning that particular battle. “But I mean- I mean the other thing, Dean. What you saw…”
Again, Dean shrugged, a faint blush touching his cheeks, giving Castiel hope that he’d never expected to feel again.
“I never dared to think about- about that before, Cas… But it made me realize a couple of things about me, about us… The way I see it, that wasn’t a bad thing at all.”
Castiel gaped at him, completely stunned.
“Oh, come on! Don’t look so surprised, we’ve had a thing going on for ages.” A playful eye roll from Dean followed, letting Castiel know that this was indeed his Dean. “Now eat.”
~
Castiel woke up with a warm body plastered against his back, soft lips brushing butterfly kisses against the nape of his neck. He opened his eyes, staring at a wall without windows.
No windows, but there was a familiar painting, a painting with sunflowers and honeybees, one that Castiel had picked out when he’d first moved into the bunker. No blue skies, or sunlight, or daylight even. But essentially, that wasn’t what Castiel needed anyway. He only needed the handsome man currently holding him close, and that would forever be enough.
“Morning, angel.” Dean breathed against the shell of his ear. “I know you hate getting up early, but I got you a present last night and I really can’t wait any longer to give it to you.”
To make a statement, Castiel groaned in disapproval; it was definitely way too early to be awake.
That was until Dean dangled something right in front of his face. That something being a ring, made of white gold, two gemstones. Emerald and sapphire.
“I saw.” Dean whispered against his cheek, not giving any other explanation.
A moment later, Dean clarified that it wasn’t a proposal if Castiel didn’t want it to be. After all, they’d only officially been together for two months now, and so Dean had argued that it was merely a promise of his eternal love, not the need for a wedding. As if that was something any less serious.
All Castiel knew was that he was going to take it, no matter what it was. He kissed Dean until they were both breathless, because a reward was only fair.
When Dean put the ring on Castiel’s finger, Castiel felt whole for the first time since he’d lost his grace. Of one thing he was sure; no Djinn would be able to fool him from now on, nothing could beat this reality.