So there he was.

In his own room. With his own bed, his own record player, his own desk.

Everything he had never had, and always wanted. It was glorious. He was home. He was home with his little brother, safe and sound. It was perfect for the two of them. Garth dropped by, but he never stayed. It was their very own house, and he finally felt like he had a place he belonged.

Sitting at his desk, Dean examined Ruby's demon blade. It was the same blade they had been using all these years, but now – after the hellhound incident, he was curious. His "holy glasses" as Sam called them jokingly, sat perched on his knees. Would everything touched by hell look different through the glasses? Without hesitation, he slid the glasses onto his face, a bit giddy to be conducting his own experiment.

"Son of a –" he started, seeing the colors reflect off the blade, but before he got any further, the ever familiar, and long anticipated sound of rustling wings reverberated in the room. "Cas?" He breathed, hastily tossing the blade aside. The angel was nowhere to be seen. "Cas I swear to god." Dean muttered, tromping out of the room.

There he was. His back was turned towards Dean, hands clasped behind his back. But there was more. Something Dean had never seen before.


He was rendered speechless. There weren't words to describe was he was looking at. They were marvelous, beautiful, and utterly horrifying at the same time. "Is it… is it the holy glasses?" He garbled, finding it hard to process his thoughts when Cas was standing in front of him like this. "Cas, Cas buddy are you…?"

The angel turned around. His clothes were tattered, dirty, but his smile was radiant. "Hello Dean."

Without a moment hesitation, Dean stepped forward, taking Castiel into his arms. "Dammit Cas." He grumbled, holding his angel close to him. "I've – We've missed you Cas."

"I apologize, but I did not realize your eyesight was getting worse, Dean. Are you alright?"

"Oh god, these?" Dean said, embarrassed. "They're burnt with holy fire, you can see hellhounds through them. And apparently-" He gestured to the wings that filled up the room. He snatched them off of his face, handing them to Cas. "You try."

"No thank you, Dean." He refused gently, smiling as he did so. He knew of the holy fire glasses, and he knew what he would see if he was to put them on. What they would turn his Dean into. "Dean, I apologize for being gone so long. There were… complications up in heaven. And they aren't quite cleared up yet. I cannot promise when I can come back, but I can promise that I will return to you and Sam."


"No Dean, you need to understand. I created this mess, and I need to clean it up. This is not up for discussion. I simply wanted to allow you the peace of mind that I am safe, and I wanted to do the same for myself."

Dean sighed heavily, sinking into one of the table chairs. The rest of the evening was the same. Sam was away checking up on Kevin, so it was just the man and his angel. They didn't speak much, simply sat next to each other, enjoyed the moments when their breathing matched, or simply the fact that they were both alive. Dean had missed him something awful. And he knew that Cas would have to leave before too long, but he wanted to make this last, he needed to make it last.

Dean dozed off about midnight, and a smile graced Cas' lips. He gently lifted his human into his arms, transporting him to the bedroom he was excited to have. After setting Dean down, he grinned. He would hate to know that he had been so exposed like that, seen so weak. Cas looked around Dean's small room. He had pictures of he and Sam, one of John, and then a picture of Mary, his mother. The angel sighed heavily, pulling the sheets over his human before gently placing a kiss on his forehead.

Before leaving, he chuckled. Knowing full well that "holy glasses" would not allow a mortal man to see angel wings. But love could. And the fear that this could be the last time he and Dean saw each other again. He wanted Dean to remember him, the way he would remember his human: beautiful.