CHAPTER ELEVEN

"You're going to wear a hole in the floor," Bobby observed dryly.

With deliberate effort, Sam stopped his restless pacing but his stress was still evident in his tense shoulders and the hand he ran through his hair. "Nine days, Bobby. Nine whole days, and nothing. They haven't moved, haven't blinked, haven't eaten-"

Bobby neglected to point out that Sam had barely slept or eaten either; he knew Sam couldn't rest easy until he had his brother back safe and sound. "I'm sure Cas's mojo is sustaining them both just fine. Quit your worrying."

He might as well have asked a Wendigo to give up cannibalism; worrying about each other was practically ingrained in Sam and Dean's DNA. "What is taking so long?" Sam fretted. "Usually Cas can heal people with just a tap of his fingers."

"Yeah, well, Raphael had Dean in his clutches for a long time – we don't even really know how long. And it's not like Cas is dealing with a flesh wound here. Raphael inflicted some serious damage."

"Yeah, I know." Sam sighed and sank down on the couch, dropping his head into his hands. "Bobby, what if…?"

"Don't think like that."

"I can't help it. Cas wasn't even sure that he could do this and with every day that passes I'm finding it harder and harder to be optimistic about our chances here."

"Cas is doing the best he can."

"I know that. But what if his best isn't enough? What if Dean is too far gone?"

Bobby folded his arms, frowning at the top of Sam's head. He didn't like doom-saying because it was a hairs-breadth away from giving up, but he also knew the importance of being prepared for the worst. "If Cas can't heal your brother, you are going to have to make a decision – whether you want to find some qualified professionals to look after him…"

Sam looked up, horror written across his features. "What, like a shrink, or a mental ward? What the hell, Bobby – no! There isn't a single psychiatrist out there who could possibly understand Dean or what he's been through. And a white-padded room might as well be another torture chamber for all the good it would do him."

"You know what the alternative is?"

"If you're asking whether I'd give up hunting to take care of my brother, I would think you know the answer."

Bobby smiled a little. Of course he knew. "Well, then, Dean will be in good hands. He'll be okay, Sam."

"Yeah," Sam agreed reluctantly. He glanced over to the corner of the room where Cas was kneeling in front of his brother, both of them locked in some kind of deep-conscious state. "How long do you think it will be til we know?"

Bobby knew that Cas was one stubborn SOB. He would stick at it for as long as it took. "I don't know, boy, but we might need to settle in for the long haul…" Bobby trailed off as he noticed Dean shift slightly under Castiel's hand. "…or not…"

Sam leapt up, suddenly a bundle of nerves and energy again. "Dean!"

Bobby caught his sleeve. "Easy, Sam, don't freak him out."

Sam forced himself to back off, but he watched with rapt attention as his brother began to wake.

Dean's body slowly unfurled from the tight, protective ball it had held for so long. His eyelids fluttered.

Green eyes blinked out at the world.

"…Cas?"

Sam's breath caught at the single word. It was the first time they had heard Dean's voice in months. It was hoarse from disuse, but it was unmistakably Dean.

Cas gently removed his fingers from Dean's forehead so Dean could see him more clearly and offered a smile. "Hello, Dean." He let his hand settle on Dean's shoulder, an unconscious mirroring of the handprint scar he had once left there.

"This is becoming a habit," Dean croaked.

A full, coherent sentence. Bobby dared to hope, even as Castiel's head tilted in silent question.

"You saving me."

"Always," Cas promised.

A thousand and one words passed silently between them as they gazed at each other.

When Dean finally looked away, he noticed Sam and Bobby standing a few paces behind them. Only then did he seem to realise the intimate position he and Cas were in, with one of the angel's hands still cradling the back of his head and their faces a scant few inches apart.

Dean flushed. "Uh, hey guys." He made to stand to his feet but Cas rose first so he could offer a hand. Dean let the angel pull him up, and if their hands remained clasped for a couple of seconds longer than necessary, Bobby wasn't going to comment.

"Dean," Sam breathed.

A small smile curved Dean's lips. "Heya, Sammy." He spread his arms a little in invitation and Sam didn't need to be told twice – he was across the room in two strides, engulfing his brother in an enormous bear hug. Dean held on just as tightly, ducking his face into Sam's neck. "Hey, little brother," he mumbled.

The moment stretched out for an eternity until Sam pulled back to hold Dean at arm's length, looking carefully into his face. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I have one hell of a migraine, but other than that I'm good."

"Do you want some painkillers?" Sam asked immediately.

"Nah, man-"

"Water? I can get you a glass of-"

"I'm okay, Sam." A smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth. "I don't trust your headache cures anymore, remember? Ever since that time you tried to cure my first hangover with some god-awful concoction you read about in a magazine."

Sam huffed a surprised laugh. "I forgot about that. Man, you were barfing for an hour."

"Fun times." It should have been sarcastic, but there was a light in Dean's eyes. "Hey, Sam, I remembered something. The day Mom brought you home from the hospital."

Sam stilled. There was a tinge of poorly disguised emotion in his voice as he replied, "Yeah?"

"You were all red-faced and squalling, but Mom said you'd grow up to be as handsome as me some day." Dean looked his brother over and smirked. "Well, she was half right."

"Yeah, I'm more handsome," Sam quipped.

"Oh you wish." Dean's eyes took on a faraway look. "She also said that being a family meant we'd take care of each other. She let me hold you, and I knew it'd be me and you forever, you know?"

"Yeah," Sam whispered.

"We lost a lot of people along the way, but we gained a few, too," Dean said. He looked around at Bobby and Cas. "I feel pretty damn lucky to have you guys looking out for me."

Bobby clapped him on the back. "As I said; family don't end in blood."

"The angels have a very different definition of family," Cas said. A small, hesitant smile curved his lips. "I like yours better. And I am honoured to be included."

ooOOoo

[[A/N: Destiel shippers, read ahead. This is for you.]]

Although Dean had insisted he was okay, Sam had been equally insistent that he should rest and recuperate. Since he had been unconscious for more than a week, Dean had opted to relax on the couch watching old movies. Sam had crashed shortly after getting Dean settled and Bobby had lugged him off to bed.

When Cas came to check on Dean a few hours later he turned off the sound and made room for him on the couch. "How was Heaven?"

"Matthias is running things very smoothly," Cas reported, settling in at Dean's side. "He could tell my power was gone, but surprisingly his respect for me has remained intact. He asked if I wanted the mantle of leadership returned to me."

"What did you say?"

"My place is here."

Dean nudged the angel's shoulder fondly. "I'm glad you know it."

Cas glanced sidelong at him. "You know, Dean, for someone who hates 'chick flick moments', you were very sentimental back there."

Dean shrugged. "We dredged up a lot of old memories. Things from my childhood – memories of Mom, and Dad the way he was – that I never would have remembered on my own."

Castiel's brow furrowed. "Are you saying we changed you?"

"Maybe a little. But I don't think it's a bad thing. Mom was soft, and gentle. She always knew the right thing to say that would make things better and she gave the best hugs. She loved us and she made sure we knew it. If she rubs off on me now… I think I could be okay with that." He glanced into blue eyes. "There are some things that I have left unsaid for too long."

"Like what?"

"Well, thanks, for one. I don't think I ever actually thanked you for saving me from Hell. You risked your life for me."

"You do not need to thank me. I was following orders."

Dean leaned forward. "And this time?"

"Well, your brother did threaten violence against me if I didn't find you… but I saw little point in saving the world if you weren't in it."

Dean's lips quirked. "We do share a more 'profound bond'."

"Yes," Cas agreed. He wished he was back in Dean's mind; he was far more difficult to read from the outside. "But what does that mean to you?"

"Well, for a long time there I wasn't sure. But that little sanctuary you made up in here," Dean tapped his head, "with all our greatest hits playing on repeat made me realise… I've never had a better friend. And to be honest… I wouldn't mind if we were more than that."

"What are you saying?"

Dean moved further into the angel's personal space, closing the distance between them until their knees touched. "I'm saying…" He placed his hand on Castiel's shoulder, absently smoothing a crease out of his jacket with his thumb. "I wouldn't mind…" He slipped his other hand into Castiel's hair, mirroring their position from earlier. "If you'll let me, that is…" He pulled Cas in close, glancing down at the angel's lips before running his tongue across his own. His voice was barely louder than a whisper. "I really wouldn't mind kissing you right now."

Cas had to remember how breathing worked. In, out, air, lungs, oxygen. "I wouldn't mind that either," he exhaled finally.

Dean's eyes crinkled. "I thought you wouldn't."

Then Dean's lips were pressed against his and Cas found a new meaning for the word 'heaven'.

ooOOoo

The End.

[A/N: Hey there wonderful readers! Our journey together has finally come to an end. I hope you have enjoyed following this story – I know there was a lot of pain and angst along the way, but we got Dean back and he got his happy ending. Reviews are the ink to my pen, so let me know what you thought!]