They both knew it was the end, both went in knowing that neither of them were going to come out alive. And hey, if they brought down Lucifer with them that would have just been an added bonus. But they knew the chances of that were slim and while a part of them, a long ago buried righteous part of them sparked and flared in their chests, yelling no, this wasn’t how they were going out, this wasn’t it was going to end, Dean and Castiel were old souls at the journey’s end. It was time to go.
It was an easy enough decision, one they had made months ago without the knowledge of anyone in the camp and the arrival of a young Dean didn’t change things, no matter how many memories of the golden days sparked back into existence with him.
They were tired. Three years of pushing, fighting not only demons and hell but each other too hard had worn them out. Too many insults and harsh truths had been thrown about between them. Too long had they gone hating each other for different reasons. Dean resenting Castiel for not saving Sam, for not looking out for him, for letting him out of that damn room and starting the apocalypse. For depending entirely on Dean when the host left and took Castiel’s grace with them. For being so damn far gone everyday, whether it be with the help of drugs or alcohol or both. For sleeping with every damn person he could get his hands on. For falling so far down that there was never a chance for Dean to pull him back out again.
And Castiel resented Dean. For not understanding why Castiel held on so tightly, for not grasping that if God was gone, Dean was all he had left. For falling too hard and putting on that damn soldier mask that made him unfeeling and spiteful. For not being there when the host left and took everything that Castiel knew away with them. For not holding him the one damn time in his entire existence Castiel needed someone to be there. For not realizing that every time Castiel took a drink or shot up a drug or had sex with a faceless human being that Castiel just wanted Dean to grab him and shake him and yell, and kiss and hold, and just show Castiel that he was still there, still cared, still wanted him to be that guardian angel on his shoulder even if he didn’t have wings.
They were tired and one night alone with just the two of them and the last bottle of Bobby’s good shit had them realize it. It wasn’t sweet or poetic or a revelation of any kind. Dean didn’t whisper sorry’s or sweet words of love and devotion in Castiel’s ears because he had none left to give. And Castiel didn’t either simply because he had made his apologies long ago and if Dean hadn’t accepted them then he wouldn’t accept them now. And as for love? Well, it was simply too late for that.
So they decided. When Dean finally found the colt, they would find Lucifer and try to bring him down. The would both die trying and while maybe the rest of the world still had some fight left in them, Castiel and Dean didn’t. They were ready to just let go. They didn’t know where they would end up but figured wherever it was, they would most likely be together. And while neither Dean nor Castiel said it, they knew that wherever it was, heaven or hell, they could do it because they had each other.
It was an easy enough decision, one they had made months ago without the knowledge of anyone in the camp and the arrival of a young Dean didn’t change things, no matter how many memories of the golden days sparked back into existence with him.
They were tired. Three years of pushing, fighting not only demons and hell but each other too hard had worn them out. Too many insults and harsh truths had been thrown about between them. Too long had they gone hating each other for different reasons. Dean resenting Castiel for not saving Sam, for not looking out for him, for letting him out of that damn room and starting the apocalypse. For depending entirely on Dean when the host left and took Castiel’s grace with them. For being so damn far gone everyday, whether it be with the help of drugs or alcohol or both. For sleeping with every damn person he could get his hands on. For falling so far down that there was never a chance for Dean to pull him back out again.
And Castiel resented Dean. For not understanding why Castiel held on so tightly, for not grasping that if God was gone, Dean was all he had left. For falling too hard and putting on that damn soldier mask that made him unfeeling and spiteful. For not being there when the host left and took everything that Castiel knew away with them. For not holding him the one damn time in his entire existence Castiel needed someone to be there. For not realizing that every time Castiel took a drink or shot up a drug or had sex with a faceless human being that Castiel just wanted Dean to grab him and shake him and yell, and kiss and hold, and just show Castiel that he was still there, still cared, still wanted him to be that guardian angel on his shoulder even if he didn’t have wings.
They were tired and one night alone with just the two of them and the last bottle of Bobby’s good shit had them realize it. It wasn’t sweet or poetic or a revelation of any kind. Dean didn’t whisper sorry’s or sweet words of love and devotion in Castiel’s ears because he had none left to give. And Castiel didn’t either simply because he had made his apologies long ago and if Dean hadn’t accepted them then he wouldn’t accept them now. And as for love? Well, it was simply too late for that.
So they decided. When Dean finally found the colt, they would find Lucifer and try to bring him down. The would both die trying and while maybe the rest of the world still had some fight left in them, Castiel and Dean didn’t. They were ready to just let go. They didn’t know where they would end up but figured wherever it was, they would most likely be together. And while neither Dean nor Castiel said it, they knew that wherever it was, heaven or hell, they could do it because they had each other.