The Fault In Our Angels (Destiel)

Goodbyes

No.

No.

That's what he told himself.

No.

Denial was the only way to cope.

No.

He was not gone.

No.

He did not just die.

No.

He did not just lose him.

No.

Just no.

He didn't even get to say goodbye.

It had been nearly a week since it happened, and Dean didn't know what to do with himself. He had just lost his whole world. His angel. Sam tried to help him get through this, but all of his efforts were in vain.

Dean was just done.

He had enough of this.

Losing him countless times.

This time would be the last time.

He never even left the hospital. He stayed there in the same room day in and day out. He decided to do something with himself.

He summoned Death.

Death appeared before him, seemingly unsurprised.

"What do you want?" He asked calmly.

"Where do angels go when they die?" Dean asked. Death narrowed his eyes just a slight.

"Why do you want to know?"

"You know exactly why. Don't pretend you don't know about what happened."

"You mean Castiel's demise? Condolences, by the way."

"When angels die, where do they go?"

"Dean, use your brain. Castiel died without any grace in his body. He died human. He's in heaven now."

"Heaven? He's got his own heaven?"

"Indeed he does. Why do you want to know?"

"I want to be there with Cas. I want to go to his heaven."

"You'd kill yourself just to be with him, even though he'll probably just miraculously come back from the grave in a matter of days?"

"Damn straight. How do I get there? His heaven, specifically?"

"You really do love him, don't you?"

"Answer the question."

"Alright. You know how trying to save your own life usually works, right? Sacrifice someone else so you get to live?"

"Yeah."

"Well, when you're ready to sacrifice yourself it's the other way around. Or, at least, that's how I go about it. Someone else gets to live in your place. I try to keep things balanced."

"Who am I trading places with?"

"I get to deal with that. You just need to focus on the spell."

"There's a spell?"

"Of course. You'll need something that belonged to Castiel. Something memorable. I'm not sure what that would be in his case, but I'm sure you'll think of something."

And he did. He knew exactly what to use.

He knelt next to the bed and reached for something underneath it. He unfolded it, the object Cas was never without. Something he always had, ever since the beginning.

That big, tan, ratty old trench coat.

"What now?" Dean asked.

"Put it on, and think of Castiel. Concentrate on him. All of your memories of him, anything you can remember."

Dean put on the coat and pictured Cas's face. He thought of his rare smile. He thought of his bluer than blue eyes. He thought of his beautiful chapped lips. He thought of his raven colored hair. He thought of his low, amazing voice. He thought of their memories together. He remembered meeting him in that warehouse. He remembered the personal space issues. He remembered all the times they saved each other. He remembered taking him to that strip club and having the time of his life. He remembered the... Leviathan. And all those souls. He remembered going to purgatory with him. He remembered what happened when Naomi corrupted him. "We're family." He remembered all the times he died, and how a little part of himself died each and every time.

Cas did more than grip him tight and raise him from perdition. It was so much more than that.

He gave him hope.

And as he remembered, Death did him a favor.

He brought him to heaven.

He brought him back to his angel.

._.__.___.____._____.______._______.

The bunker. That was Cas's heaven. The Men of Letters bunker.

Dean was in the library. It looked so real. He looked around, trying to find Cas. He ran all over the bunker in search of his angel. He found him in his bedroom.

Cas saw him and couldn't hide the sudden hitch in his breath. He ran up to him and wrapped his arms around him, sobbing into his chest.

"I love you, Dean! I love you! I love you!" He repeated this endlessly. Dean just held him, stroking his hair, massaging his fingers through it. Tears clouded his vision, and he blinked them away. They fell down his face one by one.

"I love you too, Castiel."

"I thought I'd never see you again!" Cas choked out.

"Let me ask you something."

"Yes, Dean?"

Dean pulled back and looked him in the eye. "Do you think they have French toast with a side of bacon here?"

Fin (that means "The End" in French)