Characters I Think Would Get Along Extremely Well With Each Other But Unfortunately Will Never Meet

Relationship: Dean Winchester/Castiel

Summary: Cas and Dean finally meet again in heaven after the confession.

Tags: angst with happy ending

Dean couldn't stay still.

After rearranging Bobby's entire house (Bobby was not happy), Dean had cleaned the whole gun collection (twice), the attic, and then resealed the drafty windows. That was done pretty quickly so he also cleaned the yard, refitted the back door, and even fixed the creaky porch - why the hell did that thing still creak in Heaven anyway?!

But it wasn't enough.

There was still an itch below his skin, a restlessness he couldn't kill. So he was now elbows deep in a Pontiac Firebird, trying to fix a problem that Bobby claims doesn't exist - but Dean knows there's a squeaky noise coming from somewhere and he's gonna find it. He rubs his arm against his sweaty forehead, unwittingly smudging it with a streak of oil. He's so focused that he doesn't notice the presence behind him until Castiel speaks.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean startles and nearly hits his head on the hood of the car. He turns around quickly, green eyes clashing against blue.

He hasn't heard that rumbling voice since that day in the bunker, and he hasn't seen those eyes staring at him since they were being devoured by the black tendrils of The Empty. The sight momentarily brings flashbacks that Dean would rather forget - of words that whispered a goodbye, of a fantasy that was far too real, and of the cold despair after being left alone in an empty room, staring at the spot where his everything had once stood.

"Cas," he tries, but his voice falters.

Cas smiles, though his expression seems somewhat sad. They stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, lost in each other. Then, the moment cracks. Dean frowns and turns away, back to the car. There's something dark and bitter lodged in his chest, it tastes of bile and it spills into his words.

"Good of you to finally show up."

If Cas is bothered by the harshness in his tone, he doesn't show it. Instead, he chooses to remain silent, but does come closer, peering over Dean's shoulder to observe what he's doing. For some reason, it strikes another nerve and Dean huffs, throwing the wrench he was holding on the floor and turning back fully to meet the angel.

"Look, I don't know why the hell you think you can show up here like this after avoiding me for months."

Cas moves away, allowing Dean space now that he's facing him again, especially since he looks like a mountain lion ready to pounce. It pisses Dean off even more, but he stubbornly keeps his glare and folds his arms - demanding something, or maybe anything.

Cas opens his mouth to speak and Dean waits, and waits, and waits but nothing comes out. Chapped lips close once again, like a tomb being sealed back up. The angel avoids his gaze, staring at the floor. Dean's jaw ticks, tightens, then explodes:

"You know what? I'm fucking done. Months, Cas! Months!"

Fuck, he hates the way his voice sounds.

He knows he's at the edge of holding it together, like a dam ready to overflow. He closes his eyes and forces himself to calm down, breathing in and out. His hand comes up to run against his head, streaking dark black oil into the short hair and messing it up. It feels like Chuck still has him dancing in his palm, and that Billie is still there, waiting outside the door. It feels like the Empty never let go of Cas, never returned him. And Dean is still on that floor, head in his hands, phone ringing into the silence. Yet here is Castiel, angel of the Lord, standing in front of him, safe and sound.

"Why are you even here? Why now?"

"I miss you."

The words crash into Dean like a truck doing 90 on the highway, punching all the air out of him. His lungs burn with the weight but he can feel part of that anger dislodging and falling away. His ribcage is cracked by the claws of hurt, his eyes flooded by resent, but his heart - the traitor - sings a choir of pointless, stupid, hope.

He throws his head up, staring at the sky and trying to keep it all in. Finally, he surrenders to that tug of hope, feeling like a rabbit caught by a fox but still praying to be spared. He's madness shaped haphazardly into the shell of a man.

"Well... I was here." His voice cracks, following the betrayal of his heart. "Where the hell were you, Cas?"

"I..."

The angel seems just as lost on what to say, what to feel.

"I thought it would be best to give you some time, and space."

Dean swallows the rock in his throat that's keeping him from breathing. They stay like that for a beat, and then another, and then another. It seems like centuries before Dean finally gains the courage to look back down.

"You know... I... I dreamed about how you would tell me."

Cas frowns, not yet picking up on Dean's meaning. Dean continues.

"Sometimes it looked like you were about to say it... like that one time when we were at the diner after the twin witches case. We were laughing about something stupid - I don't even remember what anymore. And all of the sudden you looked at me like I hung the moon. I... I thought you were gonna say it then. I was so freaking scared."

Castiel's eyes widen slightly. Great, the poor bastard is finally catching on. Still, Dean presses on.

"Or that one time in the library, when you caught me reading Jane Austen and I kept sayin it was for a case... but hell, you knew the truth... and you just played along and smiled at me like it was ok. You looked like you were about to say it then too."

"Dean..."

"Then there was that one time in the kitchen... I was making burgers and asked you to help me but you kept messing up. I have no idea how someone who can master an angel blade like you do, can suck so hard at cutting tomatoes. But when I was complaining and teaching you how to do it you just looked at me with these big freaking eyes..."

Castiel's breath falters, even though he doesn't need to breathe. It's enough to make Dean brave, it's enough to make him step closer. Cas tilts his head, eyes rimmed red and seemingly about to burst.

"You knew?" Cas gapes, shocked, eyes big and round. He looks hurt, confused.

"I think... part of me always knew. And it freaking terrified me, Cas."

"I'm sorr-"

Dean doesn't let him finish, instead just grabs his lapels and pulls him in. If Cas doesn't get it yet, Dean will just have to show him.

The clash of their lips is like stars colliding - explosive, colossal, namelessly bigger than Dean can ever define.

But if Cas is Icarus, Dean is the Sun - and every star devours itself until there's nothing left. Cas had pried him open, ruthlessly, mercilessly, with three little words. And then? Then he had left. He'd left Dean behind just like everyone always did.

'Don't do this, Cas.'

The words echo in his mind now, even as he loses himself in the feeling of Cas, so close, so perfect, finally here - his - even if just for a breath, before Dean's alone again. For once, Dean doesn't care if he will be broken forever, beyond repair, or if he will eat himself alive until there's nothing left... not if it means living this moment of truth, of freedom, of love.

Dean knows he should pull away. He can feel the wetness trailing down his cheeks, the despair in his hands, the eagerness in the pathetic sounds escaping his mouth. He should let go, but doesn't know if he will ever have the strength.

But then something magical happens:

Cas starts to kiss back. Slow, tentative at first, but then with a kindness that picks Dean apart and glues him back together, and a gentleness that swallows worlds. Suddenly the destructiveness, the bottomless hunger, the fear - they all melt away into nothing. The planets align and the universe sings a harmony of

'yes',

of 'right',

of 'meaning'.

Maybe it was always supposed to be like this - maybe part of Dean had to die for a galaxy to be born. Maybe the part of him that was so afraid of getting hurt had to be murdered so he could receive the sacrament of Castiel's lips on his, so he could feel the angel's hands like salvation on his skin, so he could fall with the surety that he would be caught. It all becomes too much - too big - and Dean hides his face in the crook of Castiel's neck, his hands fisted on the crinkles of the trenchcoat.

Something had irrevocably changed, and could never be put back.

"Dean... I'm sorry."

Cas says, astounded, finally getting it. For someone who always read Dean like a book, who always saw right through him, it had taken him a while to understand that the very thing he wanted, he could have always had - if only he had asked. If only he stayed. If only he was Dean's.

"I didn't realize."

"S'okay..." Dean mutters, the sound wet and breathless. His fists unwind, and he lets his hands travel across the expanse of Castiel, all around until they're pressing against the angel's back, and then pulling, hugging Cas close. "Just... don't ever do that again. I need you."

Don't leave.

Don't leave me.

"I won't. I promise."

Cas whispers, treading his fingers across Dean's hair. A tingle of grace hums and the oil and sweat and grime disappear, almost like they were never there. Gently, he kisses Dean's temple - it's a shrine worthy of worship. Cas confesses once again, but now enlightened:

"I love you."

Dean holds on tighter, arms trembling.

He doesn't say anything back, so Cas pulls his chin back up, kissing the words against his lips again and again and again until Dean starts to believe them.

When Dean finally whispers it back, the look on Cas' face irradiates a warmth he never thought could exist. It pads the hole inside him with something soft, and sweet, that promises to grow. Cas kisses his knuckles, reverent and slow and then smiles, wide and brighter than any single point in time before.

Just like that, Dean is sure:

He'll never have to say goodbye again.

AAAAAAAAAAAGHAGAHAGAHAGAHAGHAHAG

not only was jenny ankles saying dean didn’t even think it possible for cas to feel romantic love simply diabolical, it also makes for such a delicious miscommunication because dean is the dumbest man alive and even after the confession would be like oh god but what if he didn’t really feel that and he just thought he did😳 he couldn’t possibly love me that way because angels can’t do that which means i tricked him into thinking he’s in love with me and now he’s dead because of it!😧

Bippity boppity besbian

You are now a lesbian

Bippity boppity bay

You are now gay

huh

“Modern Fairytale” by Syd and Olivia

Once upon a time in the Enchanted Wood, right next to the Sugar Plum Zoo, a pair of little twins did share a bed; a bed the size of a shoe. And every day and every night they’d do what little twins do. They’d play in the forest, and plant a big seed, they’d bake a big bread, and they’d frolic in glee. 

Thenst one day, a giant did step on their father’s big, burly, busty silhouette. And so, the twins were left with just step-mother, and she had plans for them. Plans of other.

For evil step-witch did not want any twins. She sent them away to the University of Michigan. 

“Now, this is how you will have a 401k. You will go to college, and find a job one day. It will be very simple, for it was when I was young, and then you’ll own a home with your very own sons.” 

“We’re daughters,” said the twins. 

“Oh shit, I didn’t notice. What were your names also? I don’t think the authors mentioned them at the top of this tale,” asked the step-mother. Evil, but always offering very constructive criticism. 

“My name is Piper,” said the daughter on the right, filled with chutzpah and up for a good fight. She had hair of bright red and a face full of freckles. She sang to the birds. Her sister was named Sheckles. 

“Well, Piper and Sheckles, go thee away and pick a major that will help you someday,” the step-witch threw the children out from the roof, and then she did push them off of the roof. The children did fall and landed in Michigan. 

So Piper and Sheckles skipped through the grass. They found a lily pad; the home of their first class. 

A toad was their teacher. His name was Miss Toad. Long live Miss Toad. 

Miss Toad sang a song to all of the class and it went like this, tweedle-dee, tweedle-dass. 

Miss Toad’s Song (To The Tune of Despacito). 

“Hello children, hello kids. 

My name’s Miss Toad, and here’s all my biz. 

You made a good choice by coming to college, 

It is the ONLY choice from my knowledge. 

For with a degree, you’re like a big tree. 

The degree is a seed, but the tree could be thee.” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” asked the twins. 

“Oh, shut up, you twins. You stupid, stupid, twins, and listen to my beautiful song. 

For if you don’t listen and don’t graduate, 

Your future will be all wrong. 

And if you have a degree and some learning from me, 

You can own a home in twenty-seven days flat. 

And if you study your math, and go to each clath, 

You will get all your dreams just like that-” 

The song ended abruptly as a hawk came in and ate Miss Toad. 

Piper and Sheckles swore to finish their education at the University of Michigan to honour the late Miss Toad. All hail Miss Toad who simply did not live as long as we wanted. 

So they took their school seeds and put them in dirt. And for four years the seeds did grow. And they watered the seeds, and rushed a sorority, and the seeds continued to grow. 

And then one day after four years of talk, the seeds became six-foot-five beanstalks, and Piper and Sheckles wiggled with glee. 

“I wonder, oh, what’s in my beanstalk for me?” 

Piper climbed it first, she liked to fight. She climbed up her beanstalk, and climbed it just right. Once at the top, she peeled back the leaves to see what had grown from her college degree. 

But nothing at all. It was just dust. 

Just dirt, and dust, and betrayal of trust. And a ghost, yest a ghost. The ghost of Miss Toad climbed out of the beanstalk that had just growed.

“Miss Toad, or your ghost, I don’t understand?” said Piper, with a whole lot of nothing in hand.  

“Well Piper, this is called a BFA. It’s worth nothing, and you owe me one-hundred-thousand dollars today,” said Miss Toad, as he hit Piper in the shins with one of those riding crop things. 

Sheckles called from across the way, “Sister, there’s nothing in my beanstalk for may!” 

“Miss Toad made promises of owning a home, but now I just owe one-hundred-thousand dollars, and his ghost is hitting me in the shins with one of those riding crop things.” 

So the twins did jump from their beanstalks so high and said, “We’ll figure out how to survive.” 

But they were not the first and they’ll not be the last to pay off student debt until they die. 

They went to jobs mouse and asked for a job, and the mouse said, “A job, now what is a job? You must have three-to-four years working at this before you can get your first job at this.” 

“What?” said the twins. 

“Exactly!” he said. 

So the twins walked down the road. The found the realestate badger, the badger of realestate, to find our young couple a house. Now they date. 

The twins, yes the twins, and a couple as well, said, “How do we purchase a house? What the hell?” 

“Well, you must pay in breadcrumbs, of which there are none, as we are in the middle of a recession. When I was a cub in the 1960s, I brought this cottage for four breadcrumbs, and now Zillow says it’s worth 3.46 million breadcrumbs and there isn’t even in-unit laundry. By the way, the federal minimum wage is seven breadcrumbs and twenty-five cents an hour before tax.” 

“Oh, whoopsie no, and whoopidey no!” said Piper, the feisty young twin, “Let us go to the only parent we know. See if she can help us win.”

So they went to their wicked step-mother indeed and said, “Dearest step-witch, we are in need. We tried to do things the way you said, and now the ghost of Miss Toad has a price on our head.”

The wicked step-mother looked them up and down. 

She said, “This is your fault,” and began to frown, “You were the ones who listened to me, and that is your fault, zipedeedee. But listen to me now, for this is quite right. The vaccine is filled with microchips, and blue lives matter, global warming isn’t real, but if it is, it’s your fault. Good luck having your own sons in this burning rubble of a failed society, you cucks. I’m on bath salts.” 

Then the wicked step-mother did jump off the roof, and run to the polls to vote for Jeffery Epstein Dead Sex-Offender for President of the United States of the Enchanted Wood right next to the Sugar Plum Zoo. 

And as the world started to burn, Piper asked Sheckles, “What did we learn?” 

“Well, my good Piper,” Sheckles did say, “We learned that the world is not okay. So, our step-mom’s on bath salts, and we owe a ghost money. What do we do, my twin and my honey?” 

So the twins made passionate sweet, sweet, love on a mushroom outside of a shoe. And that’s where our tale ends, sweet child of mine.

Now tell me please, what do I do?  

So I have the headcannon that the next generation of hunters, like Claire's gen, hunt in packs, rather than the solo-or-two-max system other hunters seem to have going on were they team up because they HAPPENED to cross paths.

Like, they start out HAPPENING to meet up, and of course they trade numbers, and then some one created a fucking discord, with channels labels "[inserts small town name], Maine- possible ghoul" and "[insert name] plantation, West Virginia- multiple poltriguists," and its just full of people trading info and planning meet ups to handle cases en mass, because think smarter not harder.

Like, some might be open a few weeks or even months, as it's obvious what the hunt is, it's just a matter of the next person to get to it, or the next time a large enought party can get together to hunt the thing down safely. Other channels could be up for years, with various hunters passing though the area and snooping around, not finding much and moving on, but updating the discord on what's happened in the area since the last hunter passed through, or that its been quite, so that any patters become obvious a LOT sooner than the the previous method of "hunter shows up, investigate and hopefully gets lucky with a pattern."

And there's one labeled "solves cases."

And probably ones for sharing safe havens for vampires and werewolves and the like who want to learn control.

Probably one labels "crash sights" where you go and @ everyone like "I'm I'm [name], Texas and need a good place to crash???" And either someone comes back with a good hotel or just straight up invites them to their house- "but don't knock, the kids are asleep by 8, text me when you get here."

Like the next gen just not isolating themselves, the next generation was forged in the Era of Unending Apocalypses, things may have settled, but they know the importance of organization and communication and numbers, when it comes to the things that go bump in the night.

But mainly I just have this image in my head, where some gruff older hunters, like a surprising large group of three whole hunters, roll up into this small town ready to handle what they're pretty sure is a water wraith in the local lake, only to find, after some snooping, that it's been handled. So they split up, and go their separate ways almost immediately, and one of them ends up towns local grocery store, or maybe it's one of those towns just big enough to have a Wal-mart on the outskirt, this headcanon give wal-mart at 11pm vibes so I'm going with that.

One of them ends up at the local Walmart on the outskirts of this town, about to stock up on road trip supplies before they head out to look for their next hunt.

And they spot this group of like 6-7 young adults, all covers in mud and bruises and three of them soaking wet, and if that hadn't clued the older hunters in, the anti-possession tattoo visibile on the arms of a few of them- a thing I really can't imagine wasn't just a common thing for hunters by the end of the series, honestly- does.

At first the older hunter want to think "wow the next generation is doomed if it takes this many for a simple water wraith," but to their credit, they look like they'd been in one hell of a fight, and nobody looks like they're bleeding out, and none of them look like they're mourning.

In fact, they all look like they're getting ready for a party, as they piles all kinds of things into the cart- and on top of one of the kids sitting in the cart, reading though an obnoxiously old looking book that definitely quilifies as a tome- including several cases of beer, and snacks.

But on top of that, they have like, Caulking and so many towels and is that bucket of paint and brushes and like a thouusand spunges and mops??

Then one of the kids comes meeting her friends in the aisle with a plastic sword from th toy section and says, "Hey Claire! Guess who I am!?" Before swinging the thing wildly and dramatically over-acting a trip-and-fall, crashing into the cart and disturbing the kid who was still reading. "Oh no! The wraith! It got me!"

Presumably-Claire, one of the kids that was soaking wet, and the one pushing the cart, tells her to "shut up, Emma!"

The kid who was reading looks up, and dead-pans "no, that was pretty much what happened." Then, to the one with the sword, "but she shrieked more than screamed,"

"Shut up, Kevin!"

This gets the whole party laughing

Then one of them says, "Come on guys, let's go we need to be out of the airbnb by 12 tomorrow, and the place is still wrecked."

Why didn't they just rent a couple motel rooms???

And one of the boys who is soaking wet says, "Yeah, let's get back, I have work tomorrow evening, and I'm this close to getting fired."

Another of them looks up from his phone and says, "Magda says she's got the new window panes from a guy she helped out a couple years ago, ETA's 3am so that's good."

"Next time let's not rent the airbnb on the lake we think is haunted."

"Next time I'm renting a boat."

Oh, they're insane.

The older generation thinks the younger gen is weird, and way too childish, is what I'm getting at, but this gen might have finally figured it out.

life is temporary, destiel is forever

I know I wasn't tagged, but this looked fun!

LETS GET READYYY TOOOO RRRRRRUMMMMMMBLE

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