Title: Come Home
Author: vaderina
Rating: R
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: 5.22
Warnings: Character death (more or less in line with 5.22)
Word Count: 1195
Summary: Castiel returns to Dean after the apocalypse.

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Dean sank down onto the single ratty mattress in the run down motel room and cradled his head in his hands. He couldn't come to terms with what had happened over the last few days. The apocalypse was over, sure, but at what price? Sammy was gone, thrown into literally a Hell hole along with a brother Dean never got the chance to know. Bobby too was no more than a memory, after Lucifer snuffed out his life too. And Cas, after all they'd been through had left. He'd been resurrected - again - and he'd flown off back to Heaven without so much as a goodbye. And there was Dean thinking that he'd actually meant something to the heartless bastard. After recovering from the initial shock of loss, absolute loneliness and isolation Dean had picked himself up off the dusty ground and got into his baby, the only thing that seemed to be a steady thing in his life. The only thing in his life now. He drove her to a seedy motel with cheap rooms. Sam and he had been running low on funds, neither really planning beyond the apocalypse anyway. With what little money he had, Dean paid for the cheapest room for a week. Single bed because there was no one other than ghosts of loved ones to occupy another bed.


 

Dean hadn't been out of the room since he'd got there. He wasn't hungry, he couldn't sleep and found that he had lost the will to do anything. The world was saved, nobody realised neither that it was no longer ending, nor the sacrifices that people made to do so. The minutes had ticked by into hours which flowed into days and still Dean just sat on the edge of the lonely mattress lost in his own solitary world. At first he didn't hear the knock on the door. By the time he did, the knocking was loud and persistent. Glancing at his weapons, Dean left them where they were - after all, his job was done, who cared now what happened to him? - and went to open the door unarmed. Standing there, dishevelled as always and wide eyes was Castiel beefed up Angel of the Lord resurrected twice over. Dean didn't get a chance to say anything before the other being launched himself forwards, lips latching on lips in a fierce kiss. One hand was on his shoulder, pressing down and guiding him to the bed, the other tipping his head to better the angle their lips glided over each other. Dean felt as though a huge weight had been cast off his shoulders, he felt lighter as the angel continue to kiss and strip him while laying on the bed. With each item of clothing shed, Dean felt better. The kisses caressed his broken soul and everything looked brighter. Cas seemed to have an ethereal glow and when Dean opened his eyes he gasped as he took in the wings made of light spanning out behind the angel. He looked glorious. Naked and glorious. Dean found it in himself to smile at that.


 

The man didn't even protest when he was laid on his back gently and the angel moved to lie between his legs. Dean didn't complain when a lubed finger worked its way past his tense muscles, easing the way for something larger. The kisses continued to rain on his lips, face and chest, each one seeming to add the the glow of the angel and to his soul too. Another finger stretched him, opening him up and Dean relished in the way it didn't hurt or burn. It was just Cas, gently pushing against his muscles, filling him, completing him. By the time Cas had deemed him ready, Dean was lying on the bed feeling as though he could make it through. Cas was there for him, Cas would keep him safe because he came back. The feeling of being filled as the angel slowly slid into him elicited a soft moan from Dean. He gazed down at the being now seated in him, wings draping over them in a cascade of lights. It was beautiful and Dean could only sigh and moan as Cas began to pump him hips. Each thrust furthered to complete Dean. Not break him apart and put him together again, he was far too broken for that already. Instead, it felt like a gentle coaxing of his soul to pull together into a cohesive form. Dean let himself push back against the angel relishing in the quiet moans and rasp of heavy breathing that he drew. Their climax seemed to only serve to cement Dean's feeling of lightness. He breathed Cas' name in his ear as he let himself fall into the oblivion of ecstasy and heard Cas follow him there too.


 

He came back to himself, and while he expected the reprieve from his melancholy mood to be brief. he was pleasantly surprise that he still felt good. He looked at Cas who was sitting next to him on the bed. The angel smiled wide and threaded his fingers with Dean's, pulling at his hand in encouragement.


 

"Come with me." he spoke for the first time since arriving. Dean got up and followed, only stopping when they reached to motel room door. He glanced down at himself and at Cas. They were still naked. He gave the angel a puzzled look as the other opened the door. Bright blinding light shone through the doorway. Dean stepped back and looked at the bed. There, lying as though they were asleep were him and Cas. Or rather, his body and Jimmy Novak's body. They were curled round each other in a gentle embrace as though they'd just gone to sleep. They looked peaceful, faces smoothed and free of worry.


 

"What? How?" Dean stuttered glancing between Cas and the bed. Laughter and voices long lost through tragedies over the years of Dean's short life floated through the veil of light.


 

"When I arrived." Castiel replied. Dean thought back, the pushing on his shoulder while tugging at his head wasn't, as he had first though, just unadulterated enthusiasm. He reached to rub his neck subconsciously. It felt like it always did, nothing felt broken. He looked at Cas again and then tried to peer through the light. He fancied he saw bright shadows flitting just out of view. One of them was tall and lanky, while the other seemed to have a baseball cap. Female voices rose over the murmuring in raucous laughter. Taking a final look back at the bed, Dean felt fingers squeeze his.


 

"Come home with me Dean." Cas pleaded, his wings spreading in a silent pleading invitation. Tightening his grip on the angel's hand, Dean let out a small smile and without turning back for a final look at himself and Cas on the bed, he stepped with Cas into the warm light. The door swung shut behind them with a final thud, the light fading from around the door leaving the two bodies on the bed undisturbed to carry on their eternal sleep.

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