A/N: This is the last chapter! HUGE thanks to everyone who reviewed, this story would be worth nothing without knowing someone enjoyed it.
It should've been the greatest feeling, the victory, the mind-blowing relief, beating both Heaven and Hell, keeping his planet, which was still a mess of things that go bump in the night, but that was the way Dean wanted it, as he had come to realize. He was upstairs at Bobby's place. Sitting in the only room he had spent just as much time in as a hotel room while he was growing up: The spare bedroom. After a few years, it hadn't been just the spare bedroom, Bobby started keeping a collection of classic rock tapes, saying it was because he had nowhere else to put them, but they just happened to be some of Dean's favorites. Just like the bookshelf happened to hold a variety of Sam's favorite classics that had absolutely nothing to do with hunting.
It'd been too long since Dean just sat in the room, remembering. Not that there was much to remember. But memories were the last thing on his mind. Sam was downstairs with Bobby, they were celebrating, surprisingly sober. They were planning hunts for the next few months, drooling over every sign of a haunt they could pick up on. Dean had tried to hide how shaken he was, but he knew Sam and Bobby could see it. He'd come up early, saying he was tired and just wanted to sleep for a few days maybe.
He had his brother, he had his… well whatever Bobby was. He should've been happy, ecstatic considering the job they'd just pulled off. They'd saved the whole freaking world. And all Dean could do was sit on the side of the bed, slumped forward with his face in his hands, crying as quietly as he could manage. He tried at first to tell himself that it was just the shock, the sudden realization that life was worth living again. But he knew that wasn't the reason.
It was because of Castiel.
Castiel had to be the protecting asshole and jump in the line of fire. Castiel had to take the hit for Dean. Because Castiel knew if Dean had taken it, he would've been out for the count. And then they were all screwed. Castiel had dove at Dean, shoving him out of the way and letting the human damage happen. He fell to the ground without the hard bounce you see in movies, and it sure as hell didn't happen in slow motion through Dean's eyes. It was all moving too damn fast. He knew what had just happened, but that didn't mean he had to accept it just then. Fighting back tears, because he was most definitely not crying, he stepped over Castiel's body and insanely used saving the world as a distraction.
He had fought harder because of Castiel, he wasn't going to let that son of a bitch die twice for nothing. When all was won, Dean barely resisted dropping to his knees and holding the body on the ground behind him. He thought he might be sick. He hadn't had the heart to bury him just then, and got as close to begging as he was willing Sam and Bobby to just let Castiel lie for a while.
Dean couldn't deny though, that now life had a little less worth, without one of the so many people he hadn't been able to spend as much time with the way he wanted. All the mixing emotions were just too much, and he couldn't put off the breakdown, letting everything out. But he didn't have to admit that.
He sloppily wiped his eyes with his sleeve as he heard footsteps in the hallway. He threw himself down on the bed and closed his eyes as the door opened. He heard more footsteps and tried to fake snoring, but his nose was already stopped up from crying, so he couldn't pass it off very well. He felt a finger on his face, wiping at the still streaming tears, which caught him off guard. He smacked the hand away and sat up as his eyes flew open. "Dude, what are you doing?" he asked.
Castiel stared at him with wide eyes, startled. "Sorry." Dean's eyes went even wider.
Castiel smiled. "Surprise?"
Dean slung his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed two fist fulls of Castiel's shirt. "What the hell do you mean surprise?" he shouted.
Castiel laughed. The son of a bitch laughed. Dean wanted to beat the crap out of him, and Castiel sensed this. He made himself stop laughing and put his hands around Dean's wrists. "I'm sorry." he said. His hands rubbed just slightly on Dean's arms and it was enough to make Dean loosen his grip.
"How?" was all Dean said, his face softening.
"I pulled a few strings." Castiel smiled again, knowing he didn't really care.
Dean smirked a little too. "You little bitch." he said.
"I wasn't going to leave you."
Dean suddenly felt terrible and didn't know what to say.
"You're tired. It is time for rest." he said, a hint of the forceful, angelic Castiel coming back. He pulled Dean's hands off him and Dean panicked stupidly for a second as he started to walk away, until he saw he was walking around the bed. He watched him climb on, lay down and they stared at each other, Castiel waiting and Dean wondering.
"Well, come'ere and lay with me." Castiel said, stretching out an arm.
Dean smiled, more tears ran down his cheeks, and he lay down and rolled over to fit perfectly with Castiel. They wrapped their arms around each other and Dean buried his face in Castiel's neck.
Castiel kissed the top of his head and whispered, "Rest."