Epilogue

Dean stared at the outside of the bunker door, even for a few minutes after Sam pulled away again to finish the errands that they had supposed to already been doing. He was still a little iffy about this whole thing, but since Chuck had de-demonified Sam, he was about five hundred percent harder to say no to. He was just so damn cheerful. Dean had lost count of how many times he'd threatened to shoot him over the last week, just out of principle.

He finally pushed the bunker door open when the cardboard box next to him rocked and let out a squeak. Dean sighed. "Yeah. Okay, we're gonna go in."

Cas had come into the main room from the library when he heard the door open. He'd stayed behind from grocery shopping because Kevin had called asking for info on some weird spirit he and Garth were going against. "That was fast."

"Sam got distracted."

Cas pointed at the box. "What's that?"

Dean led him back into the library. Books were still stacked around, and Sam's laptop was perched on a pile of papers, with Cas' reading glasses on top. He'd been really ticked off, but a few days after they'd gotten back from Wilmington he'd started getting headaches and Sam had forced them onto his face.

He set the box on a free table. "You know that animal shelter just outside of town? They had a sign out saying that they weren't going to be charging adoption fees today."

Dean looked at Cas and shook his head. "You know how Sam's been. He practically grabbed the wheel to pull over himself."

He sat down and started working on the weird little tabs on the box. "He wanted a dog, but I talked him out of it. No way we can take a dog on the road. If we had to get an animal it had to be something that can take care of its self if we're gonna be gone a long time."

The little tabby cat popped out. "We have mice and spiders and shit. I figured, you know, she can be useful. And she can take care of herself while we're gone. Oh, and she's a shorthair, and I haven't sneezed any yet. So, that's a good thing."

Cas finally sat down across from Dean, just staring at the cat. She was mostly black, with patches of dark brown and tan splashes. It was pretty small, and her yellowish eyes were almost too big for her face.

"I can feel her."

Dean looked up; Cas was still staring. "What?"

"Well, it's not like I used to be able to talk to animals. But I can feel her in my mind, kind of. More like her emotions and how she feels, not in words, exactly. She's confused. But I think she likes the bunker. It smells like…memories?"

Dean huffed. "What did Chuck say? About another gift?"

Cas reached out and the cat sniffed at his hand. "You think this is it?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, maybe."

"So, what's her name?"

"Oh. They had given her some stupid name at the shelter, so we figured you could rename her."

Cas squinted. "I think…She wants a human name?"

"Awesome."

Cas managed to look the cat in her eyes. "Meg?"

Dean slumped in his chair. "You gotta be kidding me. Meg? Really?"

'Meg' was purring. "She likes it, Dean. She should be able to pick her own name."

She jumped off the table and started sniffing around, exploring. Dean glared after her. "I knew there was something funky about you."

Cas snorted. "She knows you just insulted her."

XxxX

Sam thought it was great that they'd picked up the spawn of Satan in the form of a tiny tabby cat. Of course he did. He'd gone overboard at the store, getting way more cat stuff than could possibly be necessary.

By the time he'd gotten home from the store, Dean had already been bitched at twice, the first time for trying to fling holy water at Meg, and the second time for luring her into a Devil's Trap, neither of which did anything.

Of course, Meg loved Sam. He'd brought the treats, after all. To Dean's eventual relief, she disappeared into the bunker, exploring more. He hadn't been lying about the mice thing. The sooner Psycho Cat could make herself useful the better.

That night when Dean and Cas got in bed, Meg jumped in with them, curling up on the pillow above Cas' head. Dean glared at her.

"What are you doing?"

Cas was already half asleep and missed hitting him on the arm. "She likes me, leave her alone."

xxXX

Dean had talked Garth into not asking them to go out on the road for a couple of weeks after they'd gotten back. They'd all agreed to stick with the best guess they'd had, which was a rogue reaper. He'd kept off their backs, but he eventually did call Sam about what seemed like a simple haunting in Wyoming, and there wasn't anyone else to put on it.

Simple haunting?

Well, it was a simple haunting. The problem was that the ghost doing the haunting was a young woman from the early eighteen hundreds, who was a member of one of the first hunting families.

So, when they'd finally tracked down the old, weed-eaten cemetery and started digging up the grave, that's when the trouble started. As a hunter, of course the girl knew what they were up to, and began coming at them. Sam and Dean were digging as fast as they could, and Cas was guarding them, shooting at the girl when she'd pop up.

That just pissed her off even more, so by the time they were almost to her coffin, she was attacking too fast for Cas to keep her off. Dean climbed out of the hole and they were able stop her long enough for Sam to crack open the coffin and jump out to grab the salt and the kerosene.

Dean and Cas were standing on opposite ends of the grave. "Hey. Where'd she go?"

Dean was having a seriously bad feeling, that the creepy chick was up to something. Just as he's said that, Cas went flying backwards into the weeds and Dean heard him hit a tombstone. He instantly turned around, and the ghost was standing behind Sam, who already had the lighter in his hand.

"Sam! Drop!"

He did both, crouching down and dropping the fire onto the bones.

Unfortunately, the girl had one last oomph in her, and the only way Sam was going was forward and down, right into the fiery grave.

Later, if he tried to remember, which he really didn't, Dean couldn't recall much on the details of what happened. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes. He remembered pulling Sam out of the fire. The smell. Sam screaming and flailing, then going quiet and still, which was even worse.

Dean was just frozen, trying to think about what to do next. Sam was too…burnt to carry to the car, it was too far away. No cell signal. The closest hospital he knew of was three hours away.

He had completely forgotten about Cas.

"Dean? Dean!"

He was kinda blurry to Dean, but when Cas slapped him, hard, he was able to concentrate better. Cas was pale, blood was pouring down the side of his face, and he was holding on to his right arm.

"Dean. I need you to focus."

It was hard to focus on anything except for Sam.

"I can help him, Dean. But I need you to help me first."

He managed to look back at Cas, who looked a little relieved. "Thank you. I can help him, but I need to focus, and I can't focus with my arm out of its socket. Can you help me with that?"

Dean looked at his arm again, and it was definitely out of place. "Dean? Please?"

He felt himself move, but Dean knew he was just doing it out of instinct. He'd done this before, for Sammy and his Dad, so he just popped Cas' arm back in place. Dean thought Cas might have screamed, but his focus went right back to Sam.

"Dean? I need you to stand back."

Cas was kneeling next to Sam, near his head, and he was looking back at Dean. "It's going to be okay, I promise."

Dean didn't move. "Trust me, Dean. Just…go over to that tree."

'Trust me.' That was the only part that got through. Of course he trusted Cas. He took the few steps back to the rotten old tree. Cas turned back to Sam, put his hand on either side of his head, and started whispering something. Some kind of chant. Dean couldn't hear exactly what he was saying.

For a minute, nothing happened. Then, Sam's breathing, which had been choked and ragged, evened out, went back to normal. And a few seconds later, the smoked flesh smell just disappeared, like it was sucked right out of the air.

Then Dean saw Sam's skin change. The charred places knitted back together, and then turned white, then started looking like skin again. The bright red places started evening out into pink. His hair even started growing back out.

Dean sank down on his knees, not feeling like he could still stand. Sam was going to be okay, Cas was fixing him. And then, Dean remembered something. A conversation that seemed like forever ago.

"Now. Since you don't have any Grace, you shouldn't be able to do stuff with Enochian. Like blow stuff up and throw people around. But, I'm going to leave that with you. Just, be careful with it."

Dean stumbled back up. "Cas, wait…"

He wasn't sure if Cas stopped because he spoke up, or because he was done. But Cas straighted up and turned to look at him.

He was even paler than he had been before. "He'll be okay, Dean. Everything's okay."

Cas gave him a weak smile, and then his eyes rolled back and he slumped over on his side. Dean's mind had finally cleared and he rushed over to the two of them, managing to catch Cas before he completely hit the ground. Sam was out, sound asleep. There were still spots that were bright red, like he'd gone out and missed some places with the sunscreen, but he was fine.

Cas, on the other hand, did not look fine. His breathing was shallow and it took Dean way longer than it should have to find his pulse, and he was cold and clammy.

Dean sighed and looked between the two. Then he got up and got the car. He needed to get them home.

XxxX

Cas was easier to get down the steps and to his bedroom. Sam was another matter. But Dean figured he'd just been super-healed. Some bruises weren't going to hurt him any.

They'd both slept the whole trip back from Wyoming. Dean had driven straight to the bunker, not bothering to stop for anything short of beef jerky, coffee, and gas.

He got Sam in his bed, then went back to check on Cas. Meg had already hopped up on the bed next to him, and stared at Dean when he came in, giving him a look that clearly said, 'what the hell did you do?'.

"Hey. Not my fault."

Dean leaned over to see how the cut on his head was doing. He'd cleaned the blood off at a rest stop, but he hadn't been able to look at it. It wasn't deep, and had already closed. Like most scalp wounds, it had just bled way too much, but it left a nasty looking bruise.

Meg climbed up and curled up on Cas' stomach when Dean was finished. He sighed. "Okay. You wanna watch him?"

She purred and blinked at him. "Look, I'm going in my room. Because I haven't slept in two days. You come get me if something happens."

Meg made a little 'mew' noise and put her head down.

Dean checked on Sam again, and he was still asleep. So he went to his room and passed out.

It was about four hours later, and Sam knocked on his door. Dean was up instantly. "Hey, man, how are you feeling?"

Sam looked like he was only half awake. "Hungry."

"I can fix that, come on."

After some coffee and about a couple roast beef sandwiches, Sam was with it enough to start asking questions. Dean told him everything he remembered. Thankfully, Sam didn't remember anything past Dean telling him to duck.

Dean filled him in on what and all had happened after that. When he'd finished, Sam pinched at the skin on his arm. "Weird. It doesn't feel any different."

He slapped at his hand. "It will if you keep doing that, dumb ass."

Sam was still fidgety. "And Cas?"

Dean sighed and shrugged. "Still out. But he's better, I think. He isn't all clammy anymore at least. He'll wake up soon, don't worry."

xXxX

The next day, and Cas still hadn't woken up. As far as Dean could tell, he was otherwise fine, he just kept on sleeping. Meg stayed with him on the bed, sleeping away, too. He hadn't seen her outside Cas' room since they'd got back.

That morning, Dean was about popping full of nervous energy. Sam had, very very unhelpfully, asked him if he wanted to go on a jog. A jog? Dean just told him where he could go with that jog and what he could do with it once he got there.

Sam had gone out not too long afterwards, looking snippity.

Before he'd left, Dean worked his nerves off by sweeping and mopping the kitchen floor, damn near sanitizing the counters, washed all the dishes, and gathered up the stray books and put them back on the shelves in the library. After Sam went off, getting his Marion Jones on, Dean went to the trunk of the car and carried most of the arsenal down to the shooting range and started dissembling and cleaning them, too. He brought down the little radio he'd fixed up, and set it on a good station.

He never would have picked himself out as the kind who'd clean-when-nervous.

After about an hour, Dean saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He whipped around, then relaxed.

"What are you doing?"

Meg just tilted her head at him and made a small mew noise, then glared at the radio.

"Yeah, I know. Journey sucks. They got two, maybe three good songs, tops, but…"

She hissed at him, then head-butted his elbow. "Okay, what?"

Meg meowed more insistently, echoing around the room. "I know you have food, and that ham thing was a one-time…"

She hissed again, then got her teeth into his jeans and started tugging. Dean rubbed at his head. "Man. I wish Cas wasn't the only one who can…"

At Cas' name, she called out the loudest, then went scampering out of the room. That was when it hit Dean that it was the first time he'd actually seen Meg out of the room since they'd got back.

Dean chased after her.

By the time he caught up, Cas was already sitting up on the bed, still looking pretty out of it. He turned when Dean came in and managed a small smile.

"Wondered where you were."

He sat down on the side of the bed, facing Cas. "How're you feeling?"

"Better than I look, I imagine."

Cas moved to sit on the side of the bed too, but he was real sluggish. "Yeah. I think you over-did it again."

"How long was I out?"

"Uh, almost three days now."

"And Sam is okay?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah. He's out on a run, the freak."

Cas started to laugh, but stopped, gently touching the bruise on his head, and wincing when he moved his shoulder. Dean pulled his hand away. "You banged your self up pretty good. I'll go get some ice…"

He started to get up. "Dean, wait."

He looked at Cas. "I think I need to get up and move. I can meet you in the kitchen."

Dean could tell by looking that Cas had his mind set, so he just nodded. "Fine. You fall over and break anything, I'm just gonna ignore you."

Cas managed to stand, looking pretty wobbly at first, but he evened out after a few seconds. "Duly noted. I'll be fine, promise."

He went to the kitchen and pulled out a couple of ice packs, then looked around for food. They hadn't been to the store since before they'd packed and gone to Wyoming, so it was kinda scarce.

Dean was still unsure about Cas walking around by himself, but sure enough, about ten minutes later, he came into the kitchen. Moving slow, sure, but steady on his feet.

He sat down, well, he kind of plopped down, and Dean handed him the ice packs and what he'd managed to pull together.

"Green beans with bacon bits?"

Dean shrugged and sat across from him. "Sam and me are going out later."

Cas held one of the packs against his head while he ate. "You haven't been sleeping," he said out of the blue, looking up at Dean.

He didn't say anything, so Cas followed, "I know your 'I haven't been sleeping' face by now."

Dean sighed. "I was worried, okay?"

He paused. "You gotta promise me something. You can't go dying on me, alright?"

Cas reached over and took Dean's hand. "I'll do my best, I promise."

He smiled and went back to eating. "And I know my limits, Dean. I'll try not to go overboard again. Although, I can't honestly say I'm sorry, since Sam's doing okay."

Dean finally started to feel some relief. "Thank you."

Meg hopped up on the table next to Cas and rubbed her face against his hand. "Hey, little one."

Dean poked at her side. "You remember what I said about the table?"

He got hissed at, but she slithered her way down into Cas' lap. "You know, the more we speak to her the more she's able to think in a way I can understand?"

"She cussing me out already?"

Meg just started purring and that was about all the answer he needed.

XxxX

One day about a week later, Sam snatched the keys and disappeared for a couple of hours. Dean didn't think too much about it; Sammy did that every once in a while. He'd want to go to the library in town, he'd want to get stuff to make his computer do something that Dean didn't really understand, and sometimes he didn't even bother giving a reason.

In a way, it was kinda a relief. Sam was acting more and more like the goofy kid he'd snatched away from Stanford lifetimes ago. The kid brother who'd superglue his hand to bottles and would sooner put an anonymous tip out on someone trying to kill him rather than just killing them himself.

Back to the Sammy he'd been before the Hell-Blood regimen and Lucifer and Robo-Sam and all that shit. Dean supposed he had Chuck to thank for that.

So when Sam got back, he was carrying a big box and about three or four bags, and looking determined. "We're doing Christmas."

Dean had to think a little on the date, and it was just under a week away from the twenty-fifth.

"What happened to the pagan blah-blah-blah crap?"

Sam shrugged. "We finally have a home, Dean. And we have never been able to have a real Christmas together at home. It'll be fun."

Cas had stuck his head in, probably trying to figure out what was going on, and Sam immediately pointed at him. "And he hasn't ever had one. We gotta do this."

Sam pointed down at the bags. "Look, I got ornaments, I got this stringy tinsel stuff, there's…"

He leaned down and picked something out. "Candy canes. I got fucking candy canes, Dean. We are doing this."

Dean looked down at the stuff Sam had put on the floor. The big box was one of those fake, assemble-yourself trees.

"Okay, fine. But you're gonna put that thing together."

xxXX

It took Sammy the better part of an afternoon to put the thing together, setting it up in the middle of the main room of the bunker. Meanwhile, Dean was in charge of catching Cas up on 'current human traditions of celebrating the winter solstice'. After a lot of failing on his part to explain the dumbass 'reason for the season', Dean just set him up with 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas' and the Charlie Brown thing and permanently set the radio on the station playing 24/7 holiday music.

They spent another afternoon putting up the crap load of decorations that Sam had got. Meg was 'helping' them, too, knocking ornaments down and chasing them or stealing shiny tinsel clumps and carrying them off to her nest. Freaking magpie.

On Christmas Eve, they decided they would have a big supper and then open the presents that night. And Sam had decided that, as hard as the sucker had been to put up, all the Christmas crap was staying up until February at the earliest. Dean had had some things to say about that, but Sam basically ignored him.

So most of that day, Dean stayed in the kitchen. He'd very very stupidly decided to cook a fucking turkey. He'd looked up the how-to-do's on Sammy's computer, and one of the sites just had the word 'PRAY' on it. That should have been a damn good clue.

After a lot of ick, and stuffing a lot of crap into a dead bird carcass, he'd finally got the damn thing into the oven. He celebrated by starting on a much nicer dish. Apple pies were obviously a big part of the Christmas eating traditions, and no one was going to tell him otherwise. He'd popped them in to bake, and Cas came in, pushing himself to sit on the counter like he usually did.

"How are you doing?" He looked amused and Dean figured he must have flour on his face or something.

"Fine. That turkey knows who the bitch is now. What's Sam doing?"

"He's on the phone. He said it was an old friend, someone named Rebecca?"

It took Dean a couple of minutes to remember who he was talking about. "Oh, yeah. That chick he was in school with."

Cas looked around. "Can I help?"

Dean tried to think of what else needed to be done, and eventually set a few potatoes next to him and a knife. "Peel and cut these up?"

They talked while Dean checked on the turkey to make sure it was still going the way it was supposed to according to the only website he'd found that looked useful, and he gave Cas a few easy things to do. Cas still wasn't completely comfortable with the kitchen stuff, convinced he was gonna do something like start a fire or blow something up. It was fun; they joked around, Cas would flick potato peelings at the back of his head, and they'd hum along with some of the Christmas music that Dean still had on the radio. He was feeling so disturbingly warm and fuzzy that he even had some half-assed ideas about asking Cas to dance with him.

A couple of hours later and it was all ready and Sammy was setting the table. They had the turkey, mashed potatoes with peas and carrots, and stuffing, and that cranberry jiggly stuff, and apple pies, and Sam had made eggnog. Thankfully with less 'kick' than it had had the last time. Meg kept circling under the table and between their legs, crying for food, like they starved her or something. She ended up getting handed enough turkey from all three of them that she probably ate almost as much as they did.

And then, after all that, and all Dean wanted to do was pass out with Cas in the bed, it was present time. The three of them sat down on the floor in front of the tree after Sam plugged it in. The string of lights were all different colors, and Sam had put a very loud neon flashy star thing on top. Dean figured that getting an angel might have been a little insensitive. As soon as Cas sat down, Meg curled up in his lap and started purring.

Sammy, now bouncing around like a happy little puppy, handed his presents to Dean and Cas. He'd used actual wrapping paper on Cas', but Dean's was wrapped in newspaper.

And inside was something Dean never expected to see again.

He held his old amulet up, just staring at it for a minute. "Sam?"

He looked a little embarrassed. "I, uh…Well, I fished it out of the trashcan, when you first tossed it, and I put it someplace safe. I figured there'd be a time when I could give it back, and after all that happened this year…Now'd be good."

Dean had to smile. "Horcrux seeking medallion," he snorted, and slipped it over his head. "It's weird, I got so used to not having it, I didn't even realize that I missed it."

He shook Sam gently by the shoulder. "Thanks, Sammy."

Cas was tearing the paper off his own gift, Meg swatting at it. It was in a box, and Cas opened it and pulled out something round, about the size of his palm, and it looked like it was made out of granite or something.

"I don't know what it's for," Sam started. "Maybe it's a paper weight, or a candle thing, or maybe just a pen holder. But I thought you'd like it."

Dean leaned closer to see what it was. It was a carving of 'The Last Supper' that wrapped halfway around, and then on the bottom of the other half was the word 'Jerusalem'.

Cas weighed it in his hand. "Well, this is interesting. Where'd you find it?"

Sam shrugged. "A store in town. I just figured it was some kind of mass-produced touristy thing. Why?"

He was still looking the thing over. "In a way, you're right. This was made shortly after what you call the second world war, in a celebration of Israel becoming its own nation."

Cas turned it over. "See, it's stamped on the bottom. 'Bethlehem'. Rabbis and priests, the kind who still practiced magic, from both cities made a couple hundred of things like this, some with other biblical scenes, or scripture. Then they sent them to other important religious figures. I believe the Pope may even have a couple."

He smiled at Sam. "The magic wore off a long time ago, but I bet that's what drew you to this."

He set it back in its box so Meg wouldn't start poking at it. "You have a good eye, Sam."

Dean reached and handed over his presents. "Okay, these are kind of…really…stupid."

Sammy had gotten into his first. It was just an envelope anyway, so it wasn't like he had something to rip into. His eyes went huge when he saw what was inside.

"Whoa, Dean. What the hell is this for?"

It was money, and a pretty good bit of it. "Remember, uh, you were wanting to do some on-line school stuff? That's for that."

"Seriously? How did you get this?"

Dean started heating up. He should have figured Sammy would go digging rather than just say 'thanks'.

"I had a college fund started up."

"What? When did you…"

"Sam."

Cas had interrupted, and just shook his head. Sam stared at him for a second, then turned back to Dean and gave him a sort of sideways hug. "Thanks, Dean. I'm gonna start looking at classes tomorrow."

Dean turned and Cas was opening the box he'd gotten from Dean. This was the one he felt really stupid about.

Cas lifted out the dream catcher by the loop that it would hang from the wall on. It was made from dark blue leather and grey strings, and black and blue and grey beads and three midnight black feathers.

He just stared at it, and Dean got fidgety. "Bobby taught us how to make those when we were kids. It's not that great, I just kinda…"

"Are these mine?"

Cas was gently touching one of the feathers along its edge. Dean sighed.

"Yeah, well…I found them in my jacket after all that was over. Ruth had given 'em to me."

Cas was gently putting it back. "Thank you."

He smiled at Dean, and he knew he'd done good. Whatever it was, he knew Cas would explain later. In the meantime, Cas handed Sam and Dean their own gifts.

Sam got into his first. "Oh, cool, a new watch."

Of course, the one he'd had had burned up. "Hey, check it out, it's got a compass on it…"

While Sammy played with it, Dean tore off the paper from his present, giving Meg some more to chase around. It was a charcoal grey leather bound notebook, with rings that opened up for more pages and there were a few packets of them already in the back. It was a lot like his Dad's.

"I know you've been wanting to start one, not just for keeping here at the bunker, but out on the road."

Dean grinned at him. "This is great, Cas. Thanks."

Sam was still playing with his watch so he leaned over and kissed Cas on the temple.

He'd had his doubts, but this had been a great Christmas.

xxXX

Dean and Cas usually had their 'talks', if they needed to have any, after they'd gotten into bed. It worked for them.

"So, the feathers…"

Cas shifted. "Angels don't just give feathers out to anyone. It's an…intimate thing, I guess. Ruth probably thought it was funny. But that you turned it into a gift means a lot."

Dean nodded. "So, it's okay?"

"Of course. And Sam's gift?"

"I didn't lie. It was a college fund."

Cas could feel Dean tense. "Ben's?"

He breathed out. "Yeah."

XxxX

Less than a week later, and they were staking out a little town in southern Texas for a werewolf. Garth had tipped them off that another hunter had tracked it last lunar cycle, but they weren't one hundred percent sure who it was.

So he'd sent them to finish the job.

It'd been narrowed down to three people; a comic book artist, an investment banker, and a T.V. weatherman.

Cas had gotten the weatherman. It was boring, the staking out. This man was painfully dull. He'd gone to bed very early; Cas imagined it was because he had to be at the news place at four in the morning. So he was sitting at a bus stop, where he had a perfect view of both the man's window and the door to the apartment building, the only two ways for him to get out.

The moon was about to rise when Cas' phone rang. The number was unfamiliar.

"Hello?"

"Uhm. Hello. Is this Cas?" It was a man's voice.

"Yes. Who is this?" No stirring from the building.

"I…My name is Tommy Walker. My wife, Lizzy…I think you're her brother."

He nodded. "Yes. Is everything okay?"

Tommy sounded nervous and jumpy. "What? Oh, yeah, she's great. Just sleeping. She wanted me to call you and let you know, she had the baby, just over an hour ago. First baby born in the new year."

Cas smiled. "That's great!"

"Yeah. Just a little…overwhelming. I mean, you wait nine months and then she's here."

"She?"

"Oh. Yeah, a girl. Lizzy wanted to name her Cordelia."

Cas kept his eyes on the windows. Something was moving.

"Cordelia Walker. I hope to meet her soon."

"Yeah. That'd be good. You're welcome anytime…"

Cas heard glass shattering. "Tommy, give my best to Lizzy and the baby but I have something to take care of."

"Oh, 'kay. Bye."

He shut his phone and jogged across the road. The weatherman had gotten from his apartment on the fourth floor and made it to the lobby by the time Cas got to the sidewalk, just in time for the damn thing to see him and come crashing through the glass doors and all but tackle him.

Ten minutes later, after Cas had dragged the now very dead man into the alleyway nearby and hid him behind a dumpster, he wiped the blood off his hands and face and called Dean.

"Cas, please tell me you found it. I am so bored."

He huffed. "Yes, and it's taken care of."

"Oh, thank God. I'll swing by for you then we'll get Sam."

Cas almost hung up. "Oh. And hey…"

"What?"

"Happy New Year, babe."

XxxX

There was a really hard case in Maine, made even shittier because the temperatures never got above freezing the whole time they were there. Dean had come across an article on the internet about a town that was convinced it was under attack by something. Of course, no one was taking it seriously, so on the road they went.

By the time they got there, the town had broken away into about four or five different factions, each overly paranoid of the others. One of them snatched the guys up as soon as they got there, led by a twitchy looking guy who used to run a sporting store.

After a couple of days, Sam, Cas, and Dean started turning on each other, too. There were a couple of bad fights, a lot of screaming, Dean got his nose broke again, and they were way too distracted to realize the sports dude was actually a wraith. He'd put the bad mojo on them, and before too long they were bringing up all the old crap; Sam's problems with John, Dean's abandonment issues, everything that happened with Ruby and Anna and that siren thing, and Adam, and then they got into what Sam did when he lost his soul, and that led to the crap with Crowley, and then they got into the Amy Pond thing, and how Sam killed Dean's daughter, and Cas definitely hadn't known about that, when did this happen…It just went on and on and on…

In the end, Garth came out and saved them. He'd read about the story, the same way that Dean had, and had come to investigate. Being rescued by Garth…It was starting to get to be a really embarrassing trend.

Especially when he started saying shit like, 'I came, I saw, I Garth'd it in the ass! Aw, wait, that didn't come out right…'.

Thankfully, Garth didn't stick around. He had another thing he was looking into, so they went their separate ways.

In was an uncomfortable, mostly silent drive towards home. Dean didn't even tunelessly sing along with the radio, he just drove and tried not to move his face too much. Cas was sulking in the backseat, and Sam was watching the whitish grey scenery when he had an idea.

"Dean, get on the next highway going west."

"Why?" He was snappish, but Sam had kinda expected that.

"Remember how we used to go to Vegas every year? We haven't done that since…"

Dean turned to glare at him. "Since you got hitched to Becky."

"Yeah, that…That isn't what I was thinking we'd do this time."

He sighed and glared at the road instead. "Whatever."

Sam turned around. "Cas?"

Cas shrugged. "This is some fraternal bonding thing. I don't have an opinion either way."

Dean huffed and looked up at the rearview mirror. "Don't get bitchy."

He rolled his eyes and got in the lane to switch onto another highway. "We're going."

xxXX

Dean had to admit, Sammy's Vegas idea was good. They'd gotten their rooms, and now they were hitting the bar and the casino, and they'd split up. He needed a little bit of space away from Sam and Cas, after all the bad stuff that the wraith had dragged back up.

It was nice, to just sit and have, an admittedly strong, drink without the guilty fog.

Lasted maybe three hours. By then, he had a nice buzz going, and he decided to go and try to find Cas and Sam. He was feeling a lot better now. Dean should have been able to predict they'd already be up to something. He found them at a table on the other side of the room, surrounded by about ten or eleven of those cups they used to collect quarters from the slot machines.

"Whoa. Someone got lucky."

Sam turned his bitch-face on him and hissed, "No, someone cheated."

Cas just shrugged, and Dean noticed that he had his own drink in his hand. "Sam is exaggerating."

"No, I'm not, he put his angel hoodoo on the…"

Dean waved at Sam to shut up. "Quit talking about cheating and hoodoo, they'll overhear and put the Mob on us."

"The…Dean, we aren't in a Sinatra movie!"

Sam rushed them to cash out and then started herding them to their rooms, before Dean could properly bask in all the money, but not before he managed to snatch a bottle of celebratory champagne.

He shoved Dean and Cas into their room, still bitching at them under his breath.

"I dunno Sammy's problem. Personally," he threw his arm around Cas' shoulders. "…I think you're awesome."

He pulled the bottle out of Dean's hands. "I am awesome."

Looking back, Dean wasn't sure how they ended up there, but they sat at other ends of the tub in the bathroom, handing the champagne bottle back and forth and just talking.

Cas smiled and tapped his foot against Dean's knee. "I'm lucky, you know that?"

Dean hummed and nodded. "I did know that. We all are, I guess."

He pulled on the end of his amulet; he'd been doing that every so often, just to remind himself it was there. "Sorry about your nose."

Dean rolled his eyes; leave it to Cas to cut into a good buzz. "Sorry about your face."

"I don't know what that even means."

He had leaned his head so he was resting on the edge of the tub and was doing that cute squinty thing he did. "Hell, I don't know either."

"I meant, you know…I don't think I got this across, but I really wanna kiss you, except you're all…broke nosed."

Dean laughed, even though it hurt. "We can do all sorts of stuff that don't involve my nose."

Cas rolled his head around so he was looking at the ceiling. "I'm sleepy."

He made himself focus a little. "You didn't over…"

Cas didn't let Dean finish. "Please. The energy to manipulate a simple piece of…blinky gears…"

He bumped him with his knee. "Yeah, whatever."

"This is the fault of the fizzley drink."

Dean tried to get up, but he felt too heavy. "Gimme a minute and we'll get to the bed."

"Yeah, okay, mon ange." Cas already looked asleep.

He smiled, and his eyes were falling shut too. It'd been a long time since he'd called Dean that.

"Love you, Cas."

He just hummed, and that was the last thing Dean heard until the next morning.

XxxX

It was a bright, beautiful spring afternoon in early April, and Dean got a call from Garth out of the blue.

"Dean, uh, we got a problem with Kevin."

He walked towards the main room where he knew Cas and Sam were. "What's wrong with Kevin?"

Dean put the phone on speaker. "He took over the car and now he's got this freaky, glowey eye thing, and we're headed your way. When he snaps out he just says…"

There was a scrambling noise. "Guys? It's Kevin. Kevin Tran."

Sam rolled his eyes. "We know who you are. What are you doing?"

"Gotta get to the bunker. Only safe place. Plan more from there."

There was a thud, then Garth got back on the phone. "Uh, any ideas? He's been like this since we left Missouri."

Cas leaned closer to the phone. "It's a prophet thing. He's being led to something, he just doesn't know what it is. Let him drive, we'll be here."

An hour later, and Kevin came flying into the bunker with Garth trying to keep up, pacing and looking more nervous as Dean had seen him in a really long time. They tried asking him what was up, but he just kept walking around and mumbling to himself. Then, he suddenly grabbed Cas by the shoulders and shook him.

"We were so stupid. I mean, why didn't we think about it? Stupid!"

Naturally, he was confused. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Tablets," Kevin hissed, and paced more.

"Angels. Demons. Leviathan. Heaven. Hell. Purgatory."

He looked around at the four of them. "Can't you see what is missing?"

They were all silent and looked at each other. "No, Kevin. You wanna tell us?"

He waved his arms around. "It's us. Here, humans. This."

"There's a Human Tablet?"

"That's what I've been saying! Crowley was right, you are a moose."

Sam looked around. "And it's here?"

Kevin glared at him. "What, no! I was just led here, I guess because we need you with us to get it."

"Well, where is it?"

He finally sat down, looking frazzled. "I dunno. All I could get was…Like, dark blue? And, this symbol."

Sam took the sketch Kevin held out. "I'll look into it."

Kevin was rubbing at his head. "You got a headache, kiddo?"

He just nodded and looked miserable. The prophet shit really took it out of him. Cas followed Dean when he went to get the aspirin.

"You didn't know about this?"

Cas shook his head. "Like I told you before, the tablets weren't meant for angels, just for prophets. Now that Chuck is back in charge, maybe He decided this other tablet needed to be found, too."

Sam had already found the symbol by the time they got back.

"It's a symbol of Queen Joanna of Spain. Get this, in the early 1500s, she was sending a 'religious relic of the utmost importance' to the New World for safe keeping. The ship carrying it never reached port. It made it to Havana, but they never got to Veracruz. They figured there was some curse on the relic, and made the ship sink. From when it left, and these old weather reports, it probably got caught in a hurricane somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico."

Kevin nodded. "That explains the blue I saw, it was the ocean. And these tablets, they try to protect themselves. It probably did sink the ship, making sure no one would find it."

Dean looked excited. "So, we're actually going after a sunken treasure?"

Sam shook his head. "That's what it's starting to look like."

"In that case, we're gonna need a pirate."

xxXX

"Lemme get this straight…You want me to get a boat, so we can go and find this rock…That this here kid had a dream about?"

Dean rolled his eyes at the phone. They were packing the car. "We need someone other than Garth who knows boats. And, hey, the best place to leave would be from New Orleans. Now, who do I know who's good with boats and is in the area? Oh yeah…"

"I got your point, Brother."

Benny sighed over the phone. "I know a guy who'll probably lend me his sailboat. But you sure you know what we're doin'?"

"Kevin does. He'll point us the right way, don't worry about it. See you soon."

He hung up before Benny could say anything else.

Just before they were about to leave, Dean's phone went off again.

"Charlie? What's…"

"You are going out getting your Johnny Depp on, and you didn't invite me?"

He sighed. "Charlie…"

"Garth called. I wanna go."

"But…"

"No. If there's awesome, cursed sunken treasure, you're going to need a scuba diver. And I'm certified!"

Dean leaned his forehead down on his car door. "Yeah, you're certified something."

"What?"

"Nothing. Garth can dive, too."

He heard Charlie huff over the phone. "Come on, you gotta let me go. I was invited. Please!" The 'please' was long and drawn out.

"Besides, I'm already thirty minutes away."

Dean snapped up. "What?"

"Yeah, he called last night. I heard 'pirate treasure' and hit the road."

"Ugh, whatever."

Intense squealing.

Awesome.

xxXX

It was a drive from northern Kansas down to New Orleans, and they kept switching up the passengers between Dean's car and Charlie's. The six hours stuck with Garth trying to explain the license plate game to Cas were some of the longest of his life.

He had never, ever, been happier to see Benny.

Benny showed them the boat and they all got on board, Benny demanding that they all call him 'Captain Lafitte' from now on. Dean didn't know much about them, but he guessed it was a nice boat. It looked nice.

Hopefully sturdy.

He actually trusted boats out on the open sea almost as much as he trusted airplanes. At least he didn't get seasick; unlike poor Sammy, who started puking about two hours into their 'voyage'.

Kevin kept going into trances and pointed Garth and the 'Captain' in the right direction, and the next day he frantically told them to stop. "Here. We're right over top of the wreck."

Charlie and Garth suited up and went under. They were gone awhile, Kevin pacing the deck and Sam was looking awfully green. He looked so bad Dean didn't even have it in him to pull his chains about it. He leaned against the side next to Cas.

He looked worried. "What's up?"

"I don't know, Dean. Something doesn't feel right."

Just then, Charlie resurfaced, and pushed an ancient looking trunk about the size of a milk crate onto the deck. "Hey, we found a few of these. Gonna bring them up."

She went down just as Garth came up, too. "It'd be a waste just to leave these down there."

All together they hauled up ten of these trunks. Dean opened one. "Oh, wow."

Gold, lots of gold. Discolored from being in the ocean, sure, but still…Gold.

"We are so freakin' rich."

Kevin had picked up a particular chest. "This one."

They tried to pull the lock off; the ones on the others were rusted enough to just break. In the end, they had to take a solid gold brick and bash it. Sure enough, inside was a chunk of rock, the same size as the other tablets they'd found.

"I'm not gonna open it yet," Kevin said, shutting the trunk back and taking it down where all their stuff was. "I'll wait 'till we get back…"

Suddenly, the boat rocked. Kevin squawked and fell down the steps, and Sam grabbed onto the mast. "What was that?"

Cas turned to Garth and Charlie. "Did either of you see anything down there?"

"No," Garth started, and then paused. "Wait. Nothin' at all."

He looked at Charlie. "Not even any fish."

The boat rocked again and almost went sideways. Kevin managed to drag his way back up, bringing the duffels they'd brought along with the weapons in them. Dean turned, and saw the back of what looked like a giant snake going back under the waves.

Charlie saw it too. "Oh, God. What was that, a level five Kaiju?"

"I don't know what that is," Cas started, "but I think it was a sea dragon."

Sam groaned. "Like, a dragon dragon?"

"A distant cousin of what you two faced before."

The boat actually bounced, and they all got tossed around, and a bunch of spray rained on them. "They guard treasure troves, and we disturbed it."

Benny was straightening himself up. "How're we gonna kill it?"

Dean shook his head. "We aren't. Unless these sea dragons are different enough?"

"They aren't. Only a sword forged with the blood of a dragon will work."

The boat rocked and Charlie groaned. "Man, I'm never gonna be able to look at my D&D boards the same way again…"

Kevin had pulled the angel blade they'd brought with them out. "What about this? It kills all kinds of stuff."

Cas shook his head. "Nope."

Garth watched as it slithered around them. "What're we gonna do?"

Sam took the blade from Kevin. "Cas, could you melt this?"

He looked confused, and the boat rocked again. "Theoretically."

Sam looked at the water. "What if we can make it bleed? Get the blood, melt this, then re-make it?"

"You make that sound awful simple, Brother."

Charlie pointed at it; it was getting closer. "How're we going to cut through that?"

Kevin held up a knife he'd pulled out. "The eyes! That'd be its weakest spot!"

She snapped her fingers. "Yeah! Like how Fawkes helped Harry with the baskilisk!"

"Okay, that's all good, but how the fuck do we get to its eyes?"

"By getting its attention!" Garth took a golden dagger and threw it at a part of the dragon that had just come up above the water.

Well. That got its attention.

There was a huge swell, and they all got soaked again, the boat nearly going under. When they straightened back up, there was a huge, huge snake looming over them. At least ten feet above them, hissing and glaring, like it was about to strike.

Luckily, Kevin had some damn good aim. Advanced placement must have had its advantages. Globs of greenish, greyish ick hit the boat deck and Dean pulled Cas down next to one. "Okay, quick, do this."

It took a minute, seeing as Cas had to concentrate despite the now constant rocking, but he got the angel blade to melt into a puddle, swirl in with the blood, and reforged it.

Dean picked it up, and it looked nothing like any blade he'd ever seen. There was no real handle exactly, and it zig-zagged and there was a place in the middle that was flat and almost a perfect circle and then some curlie-ques.

Cas shrugged. "Sorry…"

He looked at it. "Hey, it's gotta pointy end. Works for me."

The sea dragon was still flailing. Dean got close enough to the side and slashed out, but all that did was make it hiss, and then all of a sudden, it just disappeared back into the water with hardly a ripple.

Dean looked around. "Did I kill it?"

Cas shook his head, getting water out of his hair. "They can take a human form, remember?"

Dean looked around. "Okay, it'll come on board on the back. Garth, get in that corner. When its close enough, stab it from behind to distract it."

When the sea dragon came out, it wasn't what Dean expected. It was female, for one thing. She had long wavy, light blue hair that trailed behind her and covered her like a robe. Otherwise she was naked. Her skin was blue, too, and her eyes were especially freaky. The one that was left was yellow, and snakey looking and when she spoke she showed a forked tongue and talked with a hiss.

"Foolishhh humans. Hshah."

She tilted her head and moved forward. "You," she pointed a clawed finger at Cas. "Your faysh, it'shh familiar, hashah."

Dean reached and pulled Cas closer behind him. "Yesshh. Mother dwelt upon your faysh, haashasa."

"Oh shit," he whispered behind Dean, and the dragon moved slowly closer, but not close enough yet.

"What?"

"She's an Alpha."

Dean turned to look at him. "Will this still work?"

He shrugged.

"Awesome."

Almost there. Dean gave Garth a nod, and he started forward. It was pretty quick after that. The dragon turned and grabbed Garth by the throat, hissing loudly, and it was enough of a distraction for Dean to bury the very weird blade right into her chest.

She looked furious, turning loose of Garth, then from where the blade was, she started turning even bluer, then solid looking.

"Uh, if dragons burn hot, then would a sea dragon be…"

"Everyone drop!"

Thanks to Sam's warning none of them got hit by the exploding ice.

"Dude. You just full on Queen Elsa'd Lady Voldemort."

XXxx

It took Kevin around a month of being holed up in his old room in the bunker to translate the Human Tablet. As it turns out, there wasn't whole lot they didn't already know.

"Okay, this passage here says, uh, 'in every generation there will be a chosen one to carry the Word,'."

That had cracked Dean up. "That totally makes you Buffy, man."

And every human soul would be taken to Heaven or Hell, there were rules they already knew about ghosts and ghouls. It was pretty much a letdown as far as new info was concerned, but Kevin still put it in a book and hid it like he'd done with the other three, and then took it with him, to break apart and toss wherever.

Dean wasn't totally sure how these things happened. Somehow sprits knew things, spread them around, and eventually word got out that there had been another tablet, and that it had been found. And of course, the Winchesters were involved in some way.

Even with how Crowley had changed how Hell worked, there were still some nasty demons out there. Because, hey, they're demons.

The three of them were on some poltergeist thing, just on the other side of the Oklahoma border when Dean got snatched. These demons were very interested in what exactly was on that tablet. He wasn't sure what they expected was gonna be there, but they were determined to get at it. And they were resorting to pretty extreme measures. He tried all kinds of ways to escape, but they had set up spells and all sorts of bad mojo.

It took Sam and Cas four days to find him. Cas had his neat-o locator spell, but the demons were on top of it, and they kept moving around. When they did catch up, Dean had been beaten, whipped, cut, and burned.

It'd been a bad four days.

After about a week, he'd mostly healed. He still had some cuts and most of the ribs on his left side still felt either broken or at least really bruised, but other than that he was fine.

And that was when the nightmares kicked back up. The first couple of nights, it was just flashes, enough to make him wake up sweating, but then they got worse. Cas tried to help, woke him up when he shook too much, or started talking in his sleep.

Then, one night, he had the one nightmare he always dreaded having.

It was the day, the last day, the day he broke down. Alistair had ripped him open. Cracked apart his chest, and then pulled his heart out, still working, pumping in the demon's hand. Then he took a hot needle and started poking it.

He was screaming, and thrashing, and suddenly the dream changed. He'd gotten his hands free, and finally, finally got his hands around Alistair's neck.

And then, out of nowhere, Dean was tossed completely out of the nightmare, hitting the floor of his room hard, landing on his hurt side. For a second, a happy second, he thought he'd just flailed his way off the bed before Cas could wake him up. But then he looked, and Cas was sitting on the side of the bed, holding his throat and coughing.

"Oh my God…"

Dean's vision went out a little on the edges, and he never could remember how he made it to the bathroom before he was puking, waves of nausea still rolling over him after he stopped. Then he was just kneeling there, crying with his head against the toilet.

Shit, he was fucked up.

After a couple more minutes, he felt someone kneel down next to him. "Dean?"

It was Cas, but he sounded so hoarse, it just made him cry more. "No, come on, mon ange, you can't stay on the floor all night."

Somehow, Cas got Dean back to his bed, then he was able to see him. Dean could already see the bruises coming up. He sat next to him, reaching out.

"Is your side okay? I think you landed…"

Dean flinched away from his hand. "Don't."

"Dean, it wasn't…"

"Seriously, don't."

Cas sighed. "You want me to go?"

He turned to look at Cas, but just ended up leaning his forehead on Cas' shoulder and started crying again. It was embarrassing and painful, actually painful because his ribs were throbbing.

But Cas just let him, eventually rubbing circles against his back, and humming some tuneless, random melody.

Dean felt himself hiccup. "I am so sorry, babe."

"I know. It's okay, we're both okay. I'm sorry, too. Come on, you need to lie down."

Cas got Dean back under the covers, and then got back in himself. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to maybe sleep some more."

"Why are you still here?"

Cas moved around so he was facing Dean. "Where else would I be?"

Dean shuddered, still feeling so weird. "I tried to strangle you."

"You were reliving something, I don't know what, and you reacted to it. I'm not scared of you, and I'm not angry at you. I'm fine. And I love you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Shit, now he was crying again. "Oh, Dean…Please, I…"

He cut Cas off by leaning over and kissing him. He was off center, and it was all wet, and actually, a pretty gross kiss, but Dean figured he'd got his point across.

xxXX

It was late May, and the garden was beautiful. All the wild flowers were in bloom and the bees were buzzing around. It was perfect and warm and everything perfect that God created.

Cas had been out all that morning, and into the early afternoon, sitting on the small bridge. He was trying to draw the stream, but water was proving to be very problematic.

It just didn't go onto the paper looking right.

By the time Dean wandered out, he was losing patience.

"How's it going?"

"It isn't."

Dean sat down and peeked over his shoulder. "Oh, well…"

Cas shut his notebook and hit Dean in the arm with it.

He laughed but then started fiddling with something in his pocket. "Uh, look. This is stupid. Just tell me, 'Dean, you're stupid, go away'."

"Dean. You're stupid. Go away."

He sighed. "Okay, yeah."

He started to stand up, but Cas grabbed on to the back of his jeans. "Wait, no. What is it?"

Dean huffed. "Oh, God. Okay."

He pulled something from his pocket and held it out. It was a wide, double-banded ring that Cas remembered Dean used to wear, that had belonged to Mary Winchester.

"I stopped wearing it a while back. I didn't want to lose it during, you know, the apocalypse thing. And it's all beat up, but…it was Mom's, so I kept it safe. Uhm, and I thought, maybe you could keep it safe for a while."

Dean closed his hand. "Like I said. It's stupid."

"No, it's not." Cas grabbed his wrist, and Dean opened back up.

It wasn't the right size for his ring finger, but it fit fine on his middle finger. There was still a lot Cas didn't understand about being human. As Dean and Sam had taught him, he probably never would completely understand.

But from what he had seen, he knew what this meant. He knew what Dean was offering him, and what it was probably costing him, because he knew Dean.

Dean was giving him trust and love and hope and family.

And, being human, in the end, wasn't that the whole point?