A/N: Wow…I can't believe it's over. I've been writing TRIH since last summer, and I can still remember perfectly clearly sitting in organic chem and researching Jacob's Cave. I've loved working on this story, and I'm so excited to finally be able to show you the end I've (mostly) had in mind from the beginning. I say 'mostly' because as I wrote this one, I learned something really important…you can't give a story a happy ending that isn't possible, and you can't give it one it hasn't earned.

Months ago, I would've said this had a crazily fluffy ending. It does not. But that's better, because Cas is a demon, and Cas is going to remain a demon, and that's part of his character now. But he's a demon who's healing, and that's someone I can give a different kind of happy ending to. So here it is, and I hope you all enjoy it.

Thank you all so, so much. The response to this has been amazing and beyond anything I ever expected, and I love all you readers to pieces. ^^

Thanks too to my beta ceci9293, who is awesome and who encourages me and polishes this stuff up for me and...yeah. She's awesome all around, : )

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Everything was white.

At first Dean was blinded by it, and he shut his eyes and threw an arm up over them even though it didn't seem to help. Those first few seconds, it was like being inside a fluorescent bulb or something, and somewhere at the back of his mind, he realized that he couldn't remember dying being this bright. It had been more of a gradual growth of light, more like sunlight, which had left him standing on the grass outside his childhood home.

When he drew his arm down away from his eyes, he realized he wasn't standing in the grass anywhere. In fact, it didn't look like he was standing on anything at all. Everything was the same fucking, blinding shade of white, and he was just starting to seriously wonder what the hell was going on when the space in front of him suddenly wasn't empty.

Even if he'd needed to breathe, really honestly needed it, he wouldn't have been able to. His chest was squeezed so damn tight he would've sworn he could feel his heart being nearly sliced through by his ribs. "Cas." He barely managed to choke the word out, so far beyond awe he didn't have a word for it.

He was right there in front of him, the way Dean had known him, the appearance his soul had taken on after spending so many important years in Jimmy Novak's old body. Sure, Dean had seen him that way in his dreams all the time, but this? This was different. He was whole, and clean, and fucking bathed in white light, wings arching out from his shoulders, soft and dove-like, just as Dean remembered. Except, he wasn't holding them quite like he should have, not high and proud, and when Dean let his gaze meet those piercing, blue eyes, the agony there made him hurt as surely as if he were feeling it.

"Dean." His voice was steady, almost hard, but Dean could hear something vulnerable in it. Cas wouldn't meet his eyes. "I…I told Him He shouldn't give me anything back, that I'm a demon, and I don't deserve-"

"Cas, dammit, stop." There were a lot of things he could take, especially now, but seeing Cas like this, the limp way his wings were hanging, like they were still broken… He couldn't bear it, could feel his skin burning with the wrongness of it. No matter what he had done, out of the two of them, Castiel was still the more holy, the more righteous. He always would be. He was the good one, the brave one, and Dean was so far tarnished that the thought of anything else was ludicrous. He grabbed the lapels of that familiar old trench coat and jerked, trying to force Cas to pay attention. Cas let himself be pulled forward, limp as a ragdoll. "I mean it, Cas. Cut it out, okay? Hey…look at me." He didn't, not at first, and Dean edged closer, dipped his head to catch his eyes. "C'mon. Cas, look at me."

He did, but he looked as if it pained him to do it. The look on his face…even when he'd sat down and thought about how it'd be when Cas knew everything, he'd never imagined it this bad. "After…after everything I did- in hell, and then afterward- and the way I treated you…" He clenched his eyes shut, looked away. "Dean, I would understand if you-"

"Alright, can we be done with this?"

Cas's eyes snapped open at that, pitifully wide, and questioning, and so fucking blue Dean could hardly think.

Dean brought his hand up, brushed it against his angel's cheek, and felt for him all over again when Cas didn't even lean into the touch like he normally would have. He flinched, his eyes betraying how much he clearly thought he didn't deserve Dean's tenderness. "Look, I'm sorry. You wanna feel sorry for yourself, and I get it. I really do. But I didn't go down there to haul your ass up here just so you could destroy yourself in a different way. And I sure as hell didn't save you just to lose you all over again." He softened, stroked the pad of his thumb across Cas's cheekbone. "I know, okay? I mean, not all the way. I've never…most of the things you went through, I didn't go that far. But I have an idea. And I know it's eatin' at you, and I gotta tell you, it won't stop. Not really. But it gets better." He swallowed hard, felt his own throat closing up. "And I'm gonna help you, okay? I'm gonna help you. I promise, Cas, we're gonna get through this."

Castiel let his eyes fall again, his words quiet when he spoke. "I hate angels, Dean. I hate them, and I'm supposed to be one of them, and I…I miss the screams from the souls, but at the same time now, I can remember some of their faces, the looks in their eyes…" His breath hitched, and Dean's grip on him tightened. "You. I can see the way you looked at me, after I…" He took a deep breath, his wings drawing in closer to his body. "You should have sent me to hell to rot. I don't…I don't deserve to be here, Dean. Not at all, and certainly not with you."

There was an angry reply on the tip of his tongue, but something better came to him almost as fast, and he bit back the furious retort just in time. Instead, he spoke softly, the weight of his words carrying them well enough without volume. "So, you think you weren't worth saving, is that it?" That got his attention. Just as Dean had known it would. Dean smiled for him, gentle and almost relaxed. "I'm not leaving you to rot anywhere, not even up here. I'm sorry, but I'm a stubborn ass like that."

He could see the moment Castiel gave in. Something shifted, maybe even broke, and he let himself slump forward, his head fitting perfectly in the crook of Dean's neck just like it always had. His wings came up around them, locking them together and shielding them from white light that didn't seem so otherworldly anymore. Dean held on tight, the fingers of one hand burying in Castiel's hair to cradle his head, his lips brushing softly against the angel's ear as he whispered to him.

"Shhh. We're gonna be okay. I've got this. Everything's gonna be alright, Cas. I promise. I'm gonna take care of you, okay?" He wasn't at all sure that Castiel believed him just yet, but whether he did or not, he didn't let go. He just held on tighter, his hands gripping hard enough to bruise. He didn't have to believe him just yet. For now, the fact that Cas was going to let him try was more than enough.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

The house appeared like an image in a Polaroid picture, fading in out of the light until the light was gone, and they were left standing in the yard. Cas pulled away and withdrew his wings, his hands shoving down into his pockets as his shoulders hunched. He still had the hard glint in his eye he'd developed during his time in hell, but it wasn't quite the same. Right now there was fearful uncertainty there too, and Dean stepped in just a little closer, bumping a shoulder against him.

"C'mon. Let's get inside." Finally, he was gonna be able to introduce Cas to his parents. He'd told them about him, of course, and while he'd been worried his dad wouldn't approve, he'd been alright with it. Of course, that did beg the question of whether he was really alright with it, or if Heaven had made him be alright with it, but Dean didn't particularly want to know. He'd like to think his father would have been alright knowing he'd found someone to love.

Cas was hanging back, and he slowed to match up with him, glancing over at him with questioning eyes.

He murmured softly under his breath, "What do they know about me?"

"Just that you're an angel, and we're together, and I've missed you like crazy, and I went down 'cause you were in some kinda trouble."

Cas nodded, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "Let's keep it that way."

While Dean could understand that in principle, it wasn't gonna fly. Not all the way, at least. "Hold up, Cas." He caught his arm and pulled him to a stop, something that was incredibly easy to do considering he'd been walking toward the house with all the speed of a dying snail. "Sam deserves to know the truth." Even if it hadn't been his Sammy, he'd have still thought that. You spend close to 50 years with someone, you earn the right to know when something like this happens to them.

Cas looked away, squinting up into the heat of Kansas sun before he nodded. "Alright. But no one else."

"No one else." He nudged him with his shoulder again, gently. "You ready?"

He actually laughed at that, and Dean was so happy to see it, he damn near could've cried. "No, actually. Far from it."

"Well, don't worry. They're gonna love you."

They were almost there when John and Mary came out to greet them on the porch. Even up here, where things were good all the time, there was still something about his dad's hugs that made Dean feel like he'd done something right, and he held on a little longer than he strictly needed to. As soon as he let go, he reached back for the sleeve of Castiel's trench coat to tug him up beside him. "Dad, this is Cas."

"John Winchester." He held out his hand, smiling, and though Cas took it warily, it was clear he was trying. He stiffened when Mary hugged him, tensing further when she kissed his cheek.

"It's so good to finally meet you, Castiel. Dean's told me all about you."

"I'm sure." His smile was thin, and even though Dean had been looking forward to bringing Cas home for more years than he could count, it was clear that, with the way Cas was now, this was something that was gonna take a little work. Not that he minded. Not at all. Cas was here now, and they had all the time in the world. That was more than good enough.

Sam came barreling out to wrap Dean in a hug the way only his gargantuan little brother could, and he laughed and told Sam he was too much of a heavy ass to be grabbing people like that, though he kept holding on while he said it. If there was anyone other than Cas he had desperately needed since he'd gone back down to earth, it was Sammy.

As soon as they separated, he was reminded of reason #2035 why Sam was the most amazing brother in the world (not that he'd ever tell that to him. Bitch had enough of an ego already.). No one knew Cas even close to as well as he did – except for Sam. Though he'd almost reached out to pull Cas into one of his bone crushing hugs, he'd stopped short the minute he really looked at him. He knew Cas well enough to see that something was seriously wrong, and for a second he looked worried as his eyes darted over to meet Dean's questioningly. But this was heaven, and even though Sam clearly knew something was still wrong, he couldn't stay worried.

Dean was annoyed by that. For a second. He needed to remember it, to hang on to why it had bugged him, because the next time Michael stopped by for a chat, he was gonna tell him he'd like the weird happy vibes lifted. They'd be happy enough up here together on their own without it being rammed down their throats. Sam had been introducing Cas to Jess while Dean was lost in thought, and he only paid attention when Sam tugged on his arm, dragging him over to the side.

"Is Cas okay?"

Honestly, how the fuck could he answer that? He smiled, shook his head as he watched Cas lean up against the doorframe, looking out at the empty street. "Honestly? No way in hell. But he's workin' on it." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam's mouth open, and he shook his head again. "Not right now, okay? Let's let him breathe a little. We'll tell you everything together tomorrow, I promise." Or maybe the day after. After everything that had happened, they needed some serious downtime. He didn't want to keep Sam in the dark, not at all, but he needed a breather as much as Cas did, a chance to remind himself it was all over.

Starting now, actually, because if Cas shrunk back into that wall any more he was gonna become part of it. Dean slapped Sam on the back and made his way over to the door, sliding in between Castiel and his mother. "Look, we're gonna go pass out. It's been sort of exhausting." The understatement of the year, but it wasn't like it mattered. No one could really think of anything too unpleasant up here. She kissed him, told him she'd leave dinner in the fridge for them if they wanted to come down in the middle of the night for a snack. Whatever else he might have to say about the management, Dean had never really had a problem with Heaven. There was nothing like it.

Cas followed him up the stairs to his room, going over to the window while Dean locked the door. When he turned around, Castiel was at his desk, a picture frame in his hands. "Did this really happen?" He tilted it just enough for Dean to see, and Dean nodded even though Cas wasn't watching, then drifted across the room to lean into his side.

"Yeah. Yeah, it did. That was right after we'd moved in." It was a picture Sam had taken of the first real night in their house in Denver. Bobby'd helped them move in and had been staying for a few nights. All three of them were laughing at something in the picture. Cas had a full shot in his hand, while Dean had clearly already taken his, and he had one arm thrown around Cas's neck, laughing at the same time as he leaned to whisper something in his ear. Dean had rolled his eyes when Sam bought the damn camera, but that one picture alone was worth the price of it.

Cas nodded, set it down, and let his fingers trail across the frame. Dean ran his fingers through Cas's hair, at a loss as to how much he could say, how much he could ask. "Did you, ah… Michael said God wanted to talk to you."

Castiel nodded, still distant. "He did."

Dean shrugged and stepped back to put a little distance between them. "And… what'd he say to you?"

"Many things." His voice dropped even quieter, rough and low, and Dean knew to let it go. Apparently, this was something Cas wanted to keep to himself for now. That was fine. He could understand…he'd definitely had a few conversations he'd shared with his own dad that weren't ever gonna be repeated.

"I'm sorry that I'm not what they expected." Dean jerked, the suddenness of Cas's words startling him enough that at first he couldn't even answer. "I can try, but they're going to know that I'm wrong, that I'm…"

"Cas, whoa, hey…" He reached out, tugged Cas around to face him. "None of that matters, okay? I told you they were gonna love you, and I meant it. Nobody here's gonna care. They're not." That was one thing about his family that he was absolutely sure of. Not a one of them would ever judge anyone on the things they'd done in hell. The majority of them had been there themselves, or at least experienced some form of demonic tendencies.

Still, it was clear Cas wasn't gonna accept that yet. He was gonna have to get to know them for himself, to learn even Sam all over again. For now, Dean just wanted him to stop thinking so hard 'cause it looked like it was about to drive him crazy. "Cas, c'mere." Dean curled his hand around the back of Castiel's neck and pulled him in, and at first Cas actually let him control it. He'd have been more excited about that, though, if he hadn't been so damn slack in his arms altogether. It was wrong, and he could tell Castiel still wasn't with him.

Dean pulled back just a little, rubbed gently at the back of Cas's neck. "It's alright."

"I don't… I don't know how to do this, how to be the Castiel you know, I-"

"I think I can help you with that, though for the most part, I'm pretty confident you can figure it out yourself. But you don't have to do that today, Cas. Hell, not even this year. It'll be alright, you'll see. Just… just don't try to be anything." He kissed him, barely a brush of their lips. "And stop worryin', you're gonna drive me crazy. Just… just come to bed." He didn't even have to waste time going over to turn out his light. It went out obediently, the only light remaining that of the late evening sun outside, setting red and orange over a world that was Kansas, and South Dakota, and Nebraska, and none of the above all at the same time.

Dean stepped back to toe off his boots, yanked his shirt over his head quickly, and felt the amulet come to rest cool against his chest. One glance down to unfasten his belt had his eye catching on the pentagram, whole and unbroken once again. The rest of his body was blank in largely the same way, wiped clean of most of the scars he remembered, except for his favorites, like the one he got saving Sam from a troll when he was 15, or the slice from that banshee he and Dad fought in Vegas. And the handprint, of course. That one he would've never been willing to lose.

He looked up to see Castiel watching him with increasingly hungry eyes as he stripped, and when Dean slipped into sheets that were already warm, Cas was quick to follow, naked in the blink of an eye and leaning over Dean, eyes raking over his chest. Dean chuckled, reached up to run his hands down Cas's sides.

"You can do it that way, but you know it's a little more fun to strip the old fashioned way. I mean, I think so anyway, but maybe I just got so used to-"

Cas shut him up, kissing him hard and fast and dominating, his hips flexing closer to Dean's. His tongue was thorough, and fuck, it felt good, but Dean had had enough of fucking like they were about to die to last him a couple of weeks at least. He brought one hand up to cup Cas's jaw in his hand, pulled back and just breathed with their lips barely touching until Cas got the idea, gentling a little when Dean raised up to kiss him again.

Cas slid his right hand down to rest over the handprint, flexing his fingers into position. God, yeah, that was it. That was perfect. "Cas…" Dean whispered his name against Castiel's lips, trailed kisses down until he could suck gently at his jaw, nuzzling him then, and feeling the scratch of stubble against his skin.

He could feel Cas breathing against his ear, hot and heavy. "What do you want, Dean? I don't remember… I-"

Dean moaned, for a moment arching up and losing himself in how much he'd missed the sound of that voice. He'd started to get used to how Castiel had been on earth, but damn, he'd missed this. He pulled back to press his hand against Cas's shoulder. "Shh. It's okay. Let me." He pushed a little harder, waited for Cas to give in and roll over before he moved with him. "Just let me… yeah." Castiel tilted his head back, offering Dean his throat again, and it was such a gesture of trust that Dean lost his train of thought, dipping his head to lick and suck at the exposed skin until he marked him, loving the way Cas groaned low in his chest when he did. He was so hard already, he found himself rocking against the mattress, one hand sliding down Cas's chest ready to curl around him before he managed to clear his head enough to remember that this wasn't how he wanted this to go. He pulled back. "Here. Sit up."

Cas huffed a little about it but complied, and Dean smiled when he saw the protest go out of his eyes the minute he straddled Cas's lap. "C'mon, where'd you think I was goin'?" He didn't give him time to answer, just leaned in and kissed him. This time it wasn't rough, wasn't even hurried, and warmth spread out under Dean's skin. Castiel was already learning. Dean settled in, one hand tangling in Cas's hair, the other wrapped loosely around both of them in between their bellies, his strokes slow and easy. It was only enough for a couple minutes. He'd missed this, missed Cas, and right now he wanted more. He reached over to try and find the drawer to his bedside table, jerking a little in surprise when the bottle of lube appeared suddenly in his hand. He brought it around in front of him to uncap the bottle, stopping when Cas grabbed his wrist.

There was something warring in his eyes, something dark that looked more like damaged than it did dangerous. "I won't hurt you." He wasn't sure if it was supposed to a statement or a question, but the same answer went for both.

He kept their eyes locked, tried to make sure Castiel understood. "You won't." Yeah, Cas clearly wasn't buying it. And honestly, considering how much what had happened in those first few days had sucked, he was more than a little affected to know that it was bothering Cas already. That meant a hell of a lot, and it went right along with what Dean had expected, and why he'd done his best to stay as 'okay' as he could. There were so many things that were gonna add weight to Cas's shoulders as he remembered, and the last thing he wanted to be was a burden.

So yeah, treading carefully on a sensitive subject he understood, and it was a huge step in the right direction to know that he was seriously learning regret. But at the moment, he didn't have enough of his brain working to manage a lot of reassurance. Seduction? That he could do if he had just two brain cells to rub together, so even when he tried to go for comfort, it came out sounding a little more like porn than he'd intended.

He nuzzled against him, whispering soft against his ear. "C'mon, Cas. It's alright, babe. It's alright. I promise this isn't like before. You're not gonna hurt me." He licked the shell of his ear, felt Castiel shudder. "C'mon. Cas, want you inside me so fuckin' bad. It's not gonna be like that; I just wanna feel you."

Cas groaned, his hips working up against Dean's at the words, his head nodding and dropping to rest against Dean's shoulder. His hands twisted harder in the sheets, and Dean realized that was where his hands had been for the last few minutes. Dean wasn't sure if Castiel had kept his super demon strength up here, but whether he had or not, Cas was afraid he had, and that was enough to be a problem.

Well, it might take some time, but they'd figure it out. As problems went, this was one he could handle. He popped the top open and coated his fingers, leaned into Castiel and bit his lip as he worked himself open. He was trying to be quick 'cause he knew he was too turned on to draw it out, but his hand stuttered slower when Cas started to mouth across his shoulder. That was gonna have to be enough. He slid his hand away, drizzled a little more onto his fingers to coat over Cas's length before he pulled up on his knees and then sank down. He went slowly, as much for Cas's benefit as his, and when he was finally flush against him he wrapped his arms around Cas's neck, holding him close. He was shaking just a little, and when he shifted forward they both cried out softly.

This. This was exactly the kind of connection they'd had in what had been some of the best years of Dean's life, and it was everything his soul had been vainly trying to miss while he'd been stuck up here in Heaven alone. Next to what Cas had been through, he hadn't 'suffered' anything, but there were sure as hell things he'd done without, things he'd been afraid he'd never have again.

When he started to move it was slow, a barely discernible rise and fall. Right now, staying connected was more important. He could feel the muscles in Cas's arms clench as his fingers tightened in the sheets, and dipped his head to bite gently at his shoulder. "Want your hands."

Castiel shook his head once, tried to find words in between harsh breaths. "I don't want to-"

"You're not gonna hurt me. Just…please. Please." Rough or not, he needed his touch right now, and he gasped when Cas finally understood and gave in, his hands curling around Dean's ribs to ease his movement. His grip was just the wrong side of too hard, and Dean knew he was gonna have the bruises to show for tomorrow, but he didn't care. Relearning anything close to tenderness after centuries in hell- that had to be damn hard. As far as he was concerned, Cas was fucking flying past every progress point, and he'd have this down in no time. In the meantime, he'd just hope that the rules of Heaven would apply to this in the same way he'd been able to hide his porn from his parents in plain sight the last few years. If Dean didn't want Cas to see the bruises on his skin, maybe he wouldn't.

Cas was moving with him, keeping their bodies pressed together. He moved in for a kiss, and Dean forgot about breathing for the length the time Cas spent mimicking sex with his mouth. When Dean came it wasn't hard, but it was earth shattering in a much quieter way, leaving him shuddering and limp against Cas's chest while Cas held him still for the last few thrusts that would send him over the edge as well. Dean's name was on his lips then, and he repeated it as he coaxed Dean to lift up and pull off of him, then pulled him back down in his lap and held him crushingly close.

Just close enough that Dean couldn't turn and see the look on his face, and even half out of it, Dean was pretty sure that was what Cas wanted. He smoothed his hands over Dean's back, and Dean had almost gotten used to the way his name sounded in this familiar voice all over again when Cas trailed off into momentary silence, tucking his head against Dean's shoulder before he spoke again.

"Thank you," he said.

Dean wasn't even sure he'd heard it at first, but once he was, he struggled a little, trying to pull back. Yeah, wasn't happening. He relaxed, tightened his arms around Cas's neck and let his forehead rest against his shoulder. "For what?" Honestly, it could've been a million things. And hell, much as he was usually averse to it himself, talking was gonna be something else Cas needed to learn how to do. Before, Cas had always been the one to start important conversations, and Dean was gonna have to learn how to do that himself until Cas was ready to take those particular reins back from him. Maybe he could get some advice from Sam.

"He said you'd kill me if you ever saw me. That you were up here fucking your dream girl and forgetting I existed."

"There's no dream girl, Cas. Not for a long time now." As in, since before he met Cas. Long, long ass time.

"Yes, I know. So… thank you. For proving him wrong."

"Any time."

Castiel slid down in the bed, pulling Dean with him, and when Dean settled in a little more comfortably at his side, he found the room turning pitch black. He could deal with that, if Cas needed to not let him see his face. He was no stranger to hiding his emotions either. Honestly, considering how much of a miracle Cas actually being here with him was, any normal (or not so normal) problems they had from here on out were gonna seem like a fuckin' cake walk.

"I told Sam we could talk to him tomorrow." Silence, and he realized door #2 of waiting a day or so was the better option. "Or we could take a drive in the Impala."

"I'd like that, Dean." He lay his head down against Cas's chest, warm and real, with a steady heartbeat underneath.

"You know, I always wanted to take you to a baseball game. Maybe we'll do that." It would happen perfectly, he knew. They'd drive just long enough, and when he was starting to think a cold beer and juicy hot dog sounded fantastic, they'd be pulling up to Wrigley Field. He'd been an on and off Cubs fan, sure, but the stadium was just perfect. And they'd sit down and watch a game played by the all star team he and Sam had built up in their heads years ago.

Even with the awesomeness of that considered, he still remembered that he needed to talk to Michael about dialing down the 'perfect,' 'cause at the moment he should've been feeling like he needed a good shower, but he didn't. Little inconveniences like that were things it'd be nice to keep, things that would make it feel like they were alive, even if they weren't.

"Baseball, hm?" Castiel's voice vibrated against his ear, low and a little amused.

"Yeah. You ever watch baseball?"

"No. But my vessel was a Yankees fan."

"Oh, now that's just wrong."

They both laughed, the sound carrying out Dean's half open window into the summer air. There was a full moon over the town that should've been Lawrence, and in an open field near Missouri's house, Wrigley field was forming, gleaming and new.

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