For Dean on their Semi-Anniversary

[godless_son]

Castiel is not certain if this is weird or not.

Generally, when he has such thoughts, he is being weird and he knows that he has an actual anniversary in only a matter of weeks but he wants to recognize this day.

7 years ago (according to his timeline, anyway), he announced to all that could listen that Dean Winchester was saved. 7 years ago he gripped him tight, raised him up and took buckshot to the chest in response to what he would later understand was not an appropriate introduction.

7 years ago thousands of years of certainty and glory were made to pale in comparison to 7 years of frustration and fear and overwhelming love.

This day at least deserves a pie. He expects Dean home soon and has prepared a meal that he suspects will be a surprise given Dean's tendency to be late to dinner on the nights Castiel cooks. He has followed the instructions of a startling looking, heavyset woman he found on the internet to the letter and a veritable feast of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and apple pie awaits. It is horrifically unhealthy and Castiel is certain he'll have to sneak pureed vegetables into Dean's food for at least the next month.

He has much to discuss with Dean aside from the significance of this day but he is very pleased to take a moment to acknowledge what they have been through, together. Ernest winds impatiently through his legs as he ignores him in favor of walking to the front door, listening to the sound of Dean's imposter car roll up the driveway. He enjoys watching Dean return to their home.

Comments

[always_enduphere]

Dean exits the car, briefly considering hiding the six pack in his hand before he squares his shoulders, determined to take whatever browbeating Cas would like to give him. The smell when he opens the door - grease and warm spices and some unnameable, comforting scent - nearly bowls him over, and he stops in the doorway in surprise.

"Did we order in?"

[godless_son]

"No,," Castiel huffs as he crosses his arms and scowls at the idea of all his hard work being confused with online ordering.

"I can cook, now. I can follow recipes. I made you chicken and potatoes and pie. A restaurant did not make you those things."

[always_enduphere]

Dean puts the sixpack between himself and Cas when it seems he'll charge him, but instead Castiel treats him to his most put upon scowl. "Okay," says Dean, grinning. He doesn't understand, but he's not going to argue with grease and pie. "You just don't usually cook like this, is all. Is that fried chicken?"

[godless_son]

"It is," he relents, stepping aside to let Dean in and keep the horde from running out. "It is an important day for us so I thought we could mark it together in addition to talking about our days. There are no hidden vegetables in any of it as a gesture of my love that will last until tomorrow's dinner."

[always_enduphere]

"None?" asks Dean, raising a brow. He sets the six pack on the table and pauses. "Wait, what day is it for us?" Eyes widening, he counts back, but it's not their wedding anniversary yet. Dean might be rough, but he knows well enough not to forget that.

[godless_son]

Castiel presses his hand briefly to the brand on Dean's shoulder before pulling placing all but one beer in the refrigerator to chill. "It has been 7 years to the day since you and I...met," he says, handing over the beer.

"I was surprised, it seems like longer but regardless I felt sentimental about it. And as per usual, guilty for leaving you in that coffin."

[always_enduphere]

"Not my best afternoon," Dean agrees with a faint smile. He leans in, brushing his lips against Castiel's. "But I'd sure take that coffin over Hell."

Sticking close, Dean holds his beer, eyes going fuzzy as he thinks. "Is it seven for me? Could be eight." He shakes his head. "All that weird time and dimension stuff messes me up, but the date's right." Dean grins. "Should I stab you again?"

[godless_son]

"No, because now you know how to actually hurt me," he murmurs, wrapping an arm around Dean's back and leaning in for another kiss.

"But our second meeting did inform me on how not to approach confused humans so the stabbing was very helpful in that sense. Sit down and I will bring you your food."

[always_enduphere]

"I like today," notes Dean, peeling himself away to go seat himself at the table, putting the paper napkin Cas has laid out in his lap in deference to his efforts. "I didn't know you even knew how to make fried chicken."

[godless_son]

"I didn't but a very loud woman named Paula Deen on the internet does and unfortunately I am now very aware of exactly how unhealthy friend chicken is," he sighs as he dutifully piles a plate with Dean's favorite pieces and a heaping pile of potatoes.

He sets Dean's down before grabbing his own, smiling as he sits across from him at their sturdy, second hand table.

"I love you. Happy freedom from perdition day, Dean Winchester."

[always_enduphere]

"Thanks, Cas," says Dean, forking a huge mound of potatoes to salute Castiel with. "I love you, too. Now eat." He raises both brows, swallowing his mouthful of potatoes down in one go. Holy shit, they're so full of butter. Dean stifles a groan.

"I have an elaborate fantasy built around you eating fried food."

[godless_son]

"I saw a special on that on HBO," he says, giving the potatoes and then Dean a dubious look. "That's called 'feeding'. It's a sexual fetish. Like those pony play people I told you about that you told me not to bring up again."

He takes a careful bite, watching Dean for signs of excitement.

[always_enduphere]

It's a mark of how far Dean's come since he arrived in Darrow, wounded and devoid of any emotion, most of all mirth, that he merely fixes his eyes to Castiel's fork, biting his bottom lip when Cas accepts the tiny mound of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

[godless_son]

Castiel freezes, forcing himself to swallow the potatoes before carefully setting down the fork. He looks at the chicken, at Dean, the fork and then back at Dean before straightening up with a glare.

"Are you screwing with me? It's not funny, Dean. Feeding is a real and disturbing thing. People get enormously fat as a result and they have sex surrounded by greasy food."

[always_enduphere]

"Sex and greasy food," says Dean, helping himself to another forkful. It's strange to remember a time when Castiel's furious glare didn't fill him with an odd kind of joy. "Remind me of the downside again?"

[godless_son]

"It's unhygienic," he snips, taking a bite of his chicken. He's not entirely certain why he abhors the grease leftover from cooking and adores licking each and every square inch of Dean but he assumes that is mostly due to the inherent glory that is Dean Winchester. Chicken grease has no inherent glory.

"Plus grease stains are nearly impossible to remove without the power of my grace so it is probably best not to rely solely on that."

[always_enduphere]

"Why do you think I wear so much plaid?" asks Dean, lifting his fried chicken leg. He takes a bite and loses himself for long moments, returning to reality to find his forehead propped against his forearm. "It's a very forgiving fabric."

[godless_son]

"It's interesting because the feeder derives pleasure from watching their partner eat but the feedee derives pleasure from the eating itself. You seem to be experiencing both," he says with thinly disguised horror as Dean makes a face rarely seen outside their bedroom.

"I'm now uncertain whether I should even introduce the pie into this situation," he murmurs, offering up a napkin. "But regardless I did want to talk to you about something."

[always_enduphere]

Dean ignores the napkin in favor of his own sleeve. If anything, being treated like a yokel seems to produce an almost definitely yokel like response in him, and he leans artlessly back in his chair.

"I don't want to stuff you with fried chicken," he grunts. "What's the thing?"

[godless_son]

"As of today I have successfully exorcised ten demons without irreparable damage to the host," he says, taking a bite of the admittedly delicious chicken.

"I think I am finally grasping what Rukia had been trying to tell me, that while my grace is fading to a degree with each year I am here, there are ways it can still be useful aside from simple healing while it is still strong," he says slowly, trying to ensure he communicates this as well as he can.

[always_enduphere]

"Okay," says Dean slowly, taking another bite of his chicken. Somehow, the gravity in Castiel's voice moves him to enjoying as much as he can while it's still possible.

"Exorcising so that the human lives is no small thing," he says, "But that's always been the case. Why is this a big deal now?"

[godless_son]

"I think what Rukia ultimately wanted for me or of me was to consider whether or not grace could be used for purification," he says, frowning down at his plate as he tries to muddle through his own feelings.

"She said it was possible where she was from for some. And things here are so different from our reality. We have friends who are werewolves and ghosts that we do not send onward. Do you think there is any merit to trying to heal something that wasn't born a monster? That didn't choose it?"

[always_enduphere]

"I am sending that ghost onward," Dean mutters. He just - hasn't figured out how to do it with Rukia's finesse yet, that's all. "Why would you purify them?" he asks, expression twisting with an old bitterness. "Becoming a monster is just as bad as being one from the start."

[godless_son]

"The issue of that ghost aside I don't understand how you can say that with such certainty," he argues, pushing his plate aside. "Derek is not a monster, he is our friend and we trust him. And you have seen me become the worst kind of monster and did not give up. You thought I was worth saving. Perhaps so are others."

[always_enduphere]

"You weren't a monster, Cas, something fucked with your head," Dean returns. "Derek's not a monster, either, but demons are, full stop. There's such a thing as good werewolves, fine, but demons are one hundred percent evil."

He pushes his plate away, too. "Every one."

[godless_son]

"They were all people, Dean, and some recently enough to remember," he says softly. "I won't persue demons out of respect for you but vampires, werewolves who want to change, I want to help. I want to help that young spirit as well. I think I can help him exist peacefully."

[always_enduphere]

"How, with your vast experience in dealing with restless spirits?" Dean asks, pushing back his chair. "Demons don't remember being human, that's why they're demons, so don't go feeling sorry for them, Cas. Believe me." Dean breathes out. "They earned their nasty reputation in Hell."

[godless_son]

"Rukia taught me things as well, Dean, about spirits. Things I had not considered and he doesn't want to move on. He wants a chance," he protests, leaning forward as Dean tries to put more distance between them.

"And I'm very aware of what demons are and what they are capable of. I have fought through hell and lost brothers to them more than once. But that spirit, that child is not the same thing. We could help him. We both have extraordinary power. We could change the way things have always been done."

[always_enduphere]

"I'm trying to help him!" Dean balls his fists at his sides. "He's decaying, Cas, I can feel it when I look at him, my sword can feel it. He's losing his connection to this world, and when he does, people are going to get hurt. And that includes him."

Dean folds his arms across his chest. "Spirits pass on because they're supposed to, there's a reason that's the way it's always been done. It's natural, Cas."

[godless_son]

"But what if we tried to help strengthen his connection, give him a chance?" he counters, move around the table to kneel next to Dean.

"This place is different. I've never encountered something like Rukia was in all my years. I think there are things here that weren't possible where we came from. And there have always been rumors about cures for vampires and werewolves and who knows what else. I'd never given them any real thought but what if they were true? What if I could offer another option?"

[always_enduphere]

"So he can what?" Dean asks, softening slightly for Castiel's presence before him. "Live next to humanity, but never be part of it? Never be anybody's husband, or dad, watch everyone he cares about get old and die? We're only supposed to get one life, Cas. It's the people like me who are cheating."

He lifts a hand, carding it through Castiel's hair. "Vamps, wolves - some of them are born that way," he says. "You can't 'fix' something that never got broken."

[godless_son]

"At least it would be his choice," he murmurs, grabbing Dean's free hand to kiss his perpetually scarred and rough knuckles. "We could explain what the reality is of choosing to stay. As of now, I am watching you grow old without me and deciding when I no longer want to live with that is a choice I at least understand and have."

He closes his eyes at the feeling of Dean's hand in his hair, so grateful for him it hurts.

"I wouldn't offer it to anyone who didn't want it. And I promise, Dean, no demons. I promise you."