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Happy Birthday Misha

Happy Birthday Misha
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More Posts from Ultracleverthing
Meeting Jack at the end of Season 12:

Meeting Jack at the beginning of season 13:

My love for Castiel, Dean and Sam cannot be put into words or pictures but I can certainly try.



Everyone is so comfortable with their parents like...
Them: Hey mom, I love you.
*goes in for a hug*
Their mom: Aww, I love you too, honey.
*hugs them back*
I'm here like...
Mom: Thank you, my beautiful daughter.
Me: What did I do??
Mom: Nothing. You helped me and I said thank you.
Me: Oh... Okay... You're welcome, I guess...


This is beautiful 😭😭
“Cas! Cas! Don’t do this to me, Cas.”
Dean kneels in the dirt next to Cas’s inert body, the rough fabric of the trenchcoat gripped tightly in his fists. It’s been minutes–hours?–since they came through from the other universe, since Cas… Dean doesn’t know when he started crying, but his face is wet with tears and his throat is raw from sobbing and pleading with Cas.
“Open your eyes, Cas. You cannot leave me. Not again. Open your eyes. Open your eyes. Open your eyes…”
He is still whispering the words, his voice nearly gone, when Sam pulls him away.
***
“Cas.”
It’s been over a week since they burned Cas’s body. Dean’s mind won’t let him sleep; he still sees the flames every time he closes his eyes. He feels the heat licking at his skin, cracking his lips. Now he sits on the cement floor of the parking garage; it’s the coolest place he can find.
“Where are you, Cas? Can you hear me anymore? Is it hot where you are? Is it cold? Where do angels go when they…”
There are tears on his cheeks again.
The barest whisper: “I miss you, Cas.”
***
On a hunt, a werewolf pack closing in.
“Cas! We could use your help!”
Sam jerks in surprise, barely escapes a snapping jaw.
The fight is brutal. Dean has a gash on his arm, Sam a badly bruised rib, but all the werewolves are dead. They make their way back to the Impala, Dean muttering, “Where are you, Cas?”
“Dean,” Sam says softly, “Cas is–”
Dean’s glare stops him cold.
***
Dark fields fly past outside Baby’s windows, and the sky above is a flood of stars. Dean is blind to all but the road and the steering wheel.
Led Zeppelin plays on the radio. Ramble On. This isn’t on the tape he made for…
“This used to be one of my favorite songs, Cas. But it’s all about goodbye, all about looking for something more. That was my life, always saying goodbye. Then we found the bunker, so we kinda had a home. And I thought–I hoped–someday I’d have you too.”
The song had ended while he was praying. The Impala’s engine and her wheels on the road are the only sounds until Dean’s gasping sobs fill the car.
He pulls over to the side of the road.
“Cas.” Dean chokes on the name. “I wish you could hear me.”
***
It’s been 37 days since Cas…left.
Dean is off on his own again. He hunts with Sam, but between hunts he can’t seem to stay still, just like he can’t seem to close his eyes. So he drives. When he realizes where he is, he makes a sound that is almost a laugh.
Pontiac, Illinois.
He takes a few wrong turns, but eventually finds his way to the barn. It is, surprisingly, still standing. He expects to find the inside littered with beer bottles and the like, but there is nothing. Maybe all the signs and sigils scared off the local miscreants.
Memories wash over Dean in a rush.
Sparks.
Wings.
Stabbings.
I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.
I’m an angel of the Lord.
This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith.
Dean falls to his knees, head bowed. Remembering. The awesome sight of Cas’s wings, filling the entire barn. The way his eyes seemed to look into Dean’s very soul. The feeling of being known, and chosen, and wanted.
He aches for Cas, so even he is surprised by the words that tumble from his lips.
“Chuck. I don’t know if you’re listening anymore. The bible says–and yeah, Cas told me to read the bible, so I did–that you’re everywhere at once, so maybe you can still hear me even off on your family vacation.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not good at this. I sound like an idiot. I’ve gotten used to praying to Cas, but he can’t hear me anymore. Lucifer, he…” Tears flow from Dean’s eyes.
“I’m broken, Chuck. I can barely stand. You need to give him back to us. We need him. And not because he’s a fighter, or because he’s an angel, or because he’s a part of our team. You need to give him back because…” Dean takes a shuddering breath. “You need to give him back to me. Because I love him. He’s not my brother, he’s…he’s everything.”
His voice is raw, thick with tears.
“I never got to tell him. Please, Chuck. Please. I don’t know what else to say. Can you hear the sound of a heart breaking?”
***
Chuck blinks.
“Well, what do you know. Too bad I’m not writing any more books. I love character development.”
He twirls his finger in the air, and the dust motes form a spinning vortex. Atoms join, coming together to form more and more complex molecules until, with a tiny breath from Chuck, the angel stands in front of him.
Chuck gestures. “Sorry about the tie. Dean seem to like it backwards, though.”
Cas stands bewildered, patting his coat, touching his face, ruffling his hair–deliberately avoiding the place where the blade pierced his chest.
“And the tape is still in your pocket. I know it’s important to you.”
Cas’s hand flies to the inside pocket of his trenchcoat. When his hand closes around the familiar piece of plastic he relaxes slightly.
“I don’t understand,” Cas says. “I was…gone. Again.”
Chuck points at himself. “Did you forget who I am? Or how many times I’ve done this for you?”
Cas’s thoughts still haven’t caught up to the present. “But why?”
“Character development.”
Cas tilts his head, puzzled. “I don’t–”
“Nevermind,” Chuck says, chuckling to himself. “I just need you to deliver a message to Dean Winchester, okay?”
Cas nods, eyes bright. “Alright.”
“Tell him…tell him…no, on second thought, just go. I think he’ll understand. A picture is worth a thousand words and all that.”
Cas nods again, still not understanding, but willing to go. Chuck reaches out, gently rests his hands on Cas’s shoulders.
“One more thing,” he says. “It was never a punishment, Castiel.”
Cas’s eyes widen.
“You always believe in me. I keep bringing you back because I always believe in you too.”
***
Boards creak. Feathers rustle.
Dean’s head jerks up.
“Dean, why are we here?”
Dean cannot speak. He pulls himself to his feet, his eyes never leaving Cas’s. He walks to Cas, and when they are standing close enough to touch Cas says, “What about personal space, Dean?”
“Are you real, Cas?” Dean breathes. “Are you really you?”
Understanding, Cas flexes his wings. Blue-black feathers flash. No demon or shapeshifter could fake that.
“Good,” says Dean. “Oh, Cas. I–”
But there are no words. He pulls Cas into a hug, holding him like he never wants to let go.
“Thank you, Chuck,” Dean whispers. “Thank you.”