Chapter Text
Since Samuel had brought Sam and Dean to live with him after their parents’ deaths, Dean had done nothing but look forward to the day when he would finally be able to leave this place. So much so that, if it hadn’t been for Sam, Dean would have left well before his eighteenth birthday.
And now that this fateful day was finally around the corner, he would have given just about anything to stay.
As Samuel was expected to start his position in Sioux Falls in the last week of the month, they hadn’t delayed with the process of the moving. So, for the next two weeks, Dean had kept busy with packing and the closure of the store.
In theory, it should have been a welcome distraction, but it had done very little.
Everything had been like a blur to him since that night at the club.
The days had been long and tepid. The warm weather had been insufferable.
He had never felt so shattered in his life.
And when he considered the price of the clean slate he had been awarded in the end—something he would have never been able to acquire had it not been from Castiel—Dean wished he had never taken that job. Knowing what it had cost Castiel, and him, he would have preferred continuing working for Gordon. He would have likely still felt miserable. But that sounded like a far better option than what he was feeling right now.
Worn out. Hopeless. Broken-hearted.
Only Castiel’s goddamn suit, still needing to be claimed, had helped Dean get out of bed in the mornings and make an effort to appear as a functional human being.
He had found some comfort, however, in the fact that Sam seemed to be looking forward to the move. Which had not surprised him. Sam had always managed to find the positive side of things. Far better than him, in any case.
He was plagued with moments of folly, imagining himself rushing to Castiel’s doorstep and dragging him out of there himself. Living a life on the run. At least, that way, they would be together, which was better than the situation he had at the moment.
But he knew, of course, that it was out of the question. If it had been possible, Dean was sure that Castiel could have turned to that option long before they had even met.
Besides, Castiel had told Dean himself that this was ill-advised, and even if by some miracle they managed to escape the Garrisons’ grasp, Sam and Samuel would definitely not.
And neither Dean nor Castiel would risk it.
As they were packing away some of their belongings and selling those that they couldn’t bring along with them, there was still one item that needed to be brought up: Baby.
Seeing no point in hiding it anymore, Dean had informed Samuel (and Sam) that his father’s Impala was in his possession.
“Don’t ask me how I got it. I can’t tell you. But I promise it wasn’t done illegally,” was all he had told his grandfather.
Perhaps it was due to Dean’s general state of exhaustion, but surprisingly enough, Samuel’s only reply had been a firm nod.
The fact that Dean had his own vehicle, however, had brought them some respite in completing their tasks.
Because there were still a few things to be taken care of with the closure of the store by the time Samuel had to head to Sioux Falls, it was decided that he and Sam would leave, while Dean would oversee the last details and join them on his own within the following week.
Dean and Samuel had momentarily discussed the possibility of leaving Sam with Dean to give him extra time at his school, but they decided against it. Leaving with Dean or Samuel, Sam would not be able to finish his school year in Chicago, so why delay the inevitable?
Dean had a feeling though, that Sam’s schooling hadn’t been the real reason why Samuel had contemplated the idea. In a not so subtle manner, Samuel had constantly questioned Dean about his schedule once he and Sam would have left.
Not because he was worried that Dean would mess up the remaining tasks left to be done before the closure of the store.
No. Considering the looks and Samuel’s comments about Sioux Falls and Robert Singer, Dean was convinced it was because Samuel feared that Dean would simply not follow them to South Dakota.
Or worse, do something incredibly reckless.
And Dean had to admit that, given the multitude of crazy scenarios constantly popping into his mind, it was something to worry about.
For now, he was simply grateful for the extra time, even if he knew nothing would come of it.
Thus, when it was time for Samuel to leave, Dean helped them pack the truck, wished them a good trip and promised he would meet them shortly.
A promise that he knew he wasn’t in a position to break.
He nevertheless stalled as long as he could, hoping every day that a solution would manifest itself.
Waiting for Castiel to return for his suit. To return for him.
And a week later, when all that was left for him to do was to pick up his bag, lock up behind him and drop off the keys to the owner, Dean knew he could no longer delay the inevitable.
Taking his time, he went to the Wings Storage Facility to get his car.
The storage unit was just as he had left it, with the Impala as its sole contents.
No note. No more pack of matches on the ground. And, of course, no Castiel.
Dean made sure to stop by the main building once more to inquire about the unit’s owner, and once again, he was given no answer.
Refusing to leave without informing Castiel of his whereabouts, Dean did the only thing he could think of. He left Robert Singer’s Auto Shop business card, tucked into the light switch’s frame. Singer’s full address was printed on it.
Just in case.
He was under the impression that if Castiel desired to know the location of Dean’s new residence, he wouldn’t have any trouble finding out by himself. While Dean had already told him that he was heading to South Dakota, all Castiel needed to do was to inquire about their whereabouts with their neighbours, and one of them was bound to point him in the right direction.
That was what he kept telling himself should the card never reach him.
Once Baby was out of the storage unit, Dean locked up the unit properly, left the spare keys to the clerk desk and returned home.
He parked Baby in Samuel’s parking spot, and after sighing deeply, he returned to the empty apartment, where he slept for a whole twelve hours.
He stayed two more days, until finally, after a concerned phone call from Sam, Dean promised he would leave the next morning. Very soon, he wouldn’t be able to access the apartment or the shop anyway.
The night had been long and exhausting. He spent most of his time, once again, fighting the urge to jump in his car and rush to Castiel’s building apartment—at some point, he even got dressed and had his keys in hand—until morning finally came.
And if he hadn’t dared driving by Castiel’s by then, even if it was what he desperately wanted, he knew he never would.
He parked the Impala in front of the store and packed his duffle bag and a few boxes that hadn’t fit into Samuel’s truck.
And Castiel’s suit, of course. Dean had long debated if he should have left it at the storage unit, but he eventually had ruled against it.
It was silly, but Dean couldn’t bear to part with it.
If Castiel wanted his suit, he had to come and get it himself, and Dean was ready to hold on to it until he could do so, no matter how long it would take him.
Once the car was packed, and the apartment and shop were empty, Dean returned the keys to the owner who happened to live a few blocks from there.
Feeling somewhat nostalgic and wanting to enjoy one last thing from the city of Chicago before his departure, Dean had opted to walk there with the plan of stopping by Turner’s Deli one last time on his way back.
With a bag full of burritos for the road, complementary from Rufus himself, Dean ambled down Hunter Street to the Impala.
And once he had nearly reached his car, he paused and stared at the shop that was formerly known as Campbell’s Dry Cleaners for a moment.
Feeling his eyes almost prickling at the “For Rent” sign in the window, even though it had been hanging for weeks, he cleared his throat and ran his hand over his face, hoping it would help the situation.
“You know, you can be so stubborn sometimes.”
Dean’s heart jumped.
He turned around and found Castiel, leaning against the Impala, with both hands in his pockets.
Waiting for him.
In broad daylight.
For everyone to see.
“Cas, wha—what are you doing here?” Dean heard himself say. A force of habit prompted him to glance around them nervously, assessing any potential threats. Nobody on the street was paying attention to them. Nobody was lurking around, either.
But that didn’t reassure Dean in the least.
While not being exactly mellow looking, Castiel didn’t appear to be on the fence as he had been on the few occasions when they had found themselves in public.
He stepped away from the Impala and slowly advanced towards Dean, which only increased his worry.
Backing away from him, Dean said in a low voice, “Cas, don’t.”
Castiel came to a halt. Grounded on his spot, he opened his mouth, but shut it, having a change of heart. He took a deep breath, glimpsed to his side a moment, and then said, “I was so furious with you when I saw you at that club."
“Shit. Did—did I ruin it? Did—”
“You didn’t ruin anything. Well,” he said, tilting his head, “you did pretty much destroy any illusion I had that I could let you go.” He paused, and then he added, smiling at him, “But I’ll forgive you.”
Disconcerted, Dean stared at him. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought the man was drunk.
“Cas, I—I don’t understand. Why are you here? How can you be here right now?”
And then, to Dean’s astonishment, Castiel’s smile widened.
“You haven’t checked headlines this morning, have you?”
More confused than ever, Dean shook his head.
Castiel stepped towards him. And while Dean was still nervous, he didn’t back away this time.
“The most curious thing happened…” and as though he was about to begin a long tale, he then stopped, and said quickly, “Do you want the short version or the long one?”
“I just want to know what’s going on.”
“Right. Okay, well, to simplify things, let’s just say that the empire is dead.”
Dean frowned. “What—what do you mean? Like the—” he stopped and glanced around them once more, and said in a low voice, “you mean the Garrisons?”
“Yes, them,” he said chipperly.
“What? How?”
“Well, that’s the long story. But it seems that many of their subordinates felt that they had pushed their demands to the extreme over the last year, and many grew tired of it. Which turned out to be beneficial for their competitors. One of their competitors to be exact.”
“Who?”
“They call her Dr. Hess. I’ve heard of her—and her organization—over the years, but I had never met her.”
Dean blinked at the name.
“Oh, you’ve heard of her too.”
“In a manner of speaking, yeah,” said Dean, remembering Isaac’s conversation with Samuel. But then he added, “Okay, so…what you’re saying is that…what? There was a mutiny or whatever, and basically, Hess is in charge and the Garrisons are toast?"
Castiel nodded.
Feeling a mixture of excitement and apprehension, Dean said, “Okay, but—what does that mean? For you? Us? Hell, everyone?”
“The Garrisons, as well as all their ‘highly trusted’ employees have been apprehended, and the rest, those Hess' gang deemed harmless and low enough on the food chain were let go. The ones in the gray area…well, it was a process.”
Castiel took another step.
“When I saw you that night at the club… I meant what I said. You do deserve it, Dean. You deserve to be happy. And you stubbornly followed me and insisted that you wanted none of it without me…”
“I meant it.”
“I know.” For the first time on that day, Castiel seemed upset. He lowered his eyes and swallowed hard. He took a deep breath and took another step. Now standing within Dean’s reach, Castiel gently took hold of his hand. “Thank you.” He shifted on his feet, bringing himself closer to him still. “Thank you for not giving up on me. For being so fucking stubborn and—” Choking on his sentence, Castiel shut his mouth tight.
Dean, feeling his throat tightening, said, “I can’t believe I almost left. I can’t believe I almost left you here to—”
“You didn’t.”
“The car is packed and I—I literally bought food for the road,” he said, lifting his bag of burritos. “I—I—”
“And you made sure I knew exactly where to find you.” Castiel retrieved something from his pocket and showed it to Dean.
Robert Singer’s business card.
Castiel gently took hold of Dean’s face. “Thank you. Without you, I would have never done what I should have done a long time ago.”
And Dean, who a moment ago had felt warm fuzzy feelings spread in his chest, was now hit with a sense of dread that shook him to his core.
“What—what the fuck did you do?”
But Castiel was smiling. “It’s okay, Dean. We’re okay.” He paused a moment, and then said, “I did many things for the Garrisons that I—you can’t erase that. And saying I never wanted to do it and that I deeply regret having done so, is not enough. Which was a problem when Dr. Hess came into power. But since they judged me sensible enough, and were also fully aware of my so-called skills, and my knowledge of the Garrisons, they gave me a chance to…plead my case, I suppose.”
Dean listened with attention, feeling his heartbeat intensifying.
“If it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t have dared to ask for what felt like the impossible. I would have…accepted my fate. Knowing you were out there, safe and sound, away from all this, I thought that was the most I could ever have hoped for. And the fact that I had succeeded…I didn’t want to tamper with that. But I was wrong. It wasn’t fair of me to give up when you hadn’t. And the idea that I could finally leave all this behind and be with you, nothing—and I mean, nothing—beat that. So, I did what I had to do and another agreement was made.”
“Like what?” said Dean, nearly aggravated.
“Mostly? I gave them information. There were other things too, but it doesn’t matter now. As long as I leave and never cause an issue, I get to enjoy my retirement.”
“But…how can you be sure? What if the Garrisons return and—”
“They won’t. And trust me, they’d have bigger fish to fry.”
“What if—”
“Dean, listen to me, if I were worried about Hess, the Garrisons, or anyone, do you really think I’d be standing here? Putting you in the line of fire is just about the last thing I’d ever do.” And he leaned in, stopping just before his lips reached Dean’s. “Standing here, in front of everyone, would I do this?”
And their lips met. The assertiveness in which Castiel was kissing Dean was enough to render him light-headed. He wasn’t holding back. His arms wrapped around him tightly, and the next thing Dean knew, he had let go of his bag and gripped Castiel’s coat, meeting Castiel’s intensity.
Forgetting everything around them.
They eventually broke the kiss and stared at each other.
“This is really happening? You—you can come with me? We can just—”
“Walk into the sunset?” said Castiel, smirking. “Although, I suppose our situation is more drive off on the open road…in broad daylight.”
Dean burst into laughter. Still holding onto Castiel’s coat, he took a moment to process it all.
He then turned to Castiel. “So, you up for a road trip?”
“I thought you’d never ask. Shall we? I’m sure you must have done so, knowing you, but I checked the itinerary and—”
“Okay, hold on,” said Dean, amused at Castiel’s eagerness. “What about your stuff? Your books? Your suits?”
“I carried what I could,” he said, nudging his foot at the suitcase beside him that Dean hadn’t even noticed until then. “And I’ll just have to get new ones when we arrive in Sioux Falls, that’s all.”
“And you don’t mind relocating there? I have no idea what to expect, but I’m pretty sure there won’t be a lot of excitement there.”
“Good. I think I’ve had my fill,” said Castiel, interlocking his fingers with Dean’s. “You’re the only excitement I’m looking forward to.”
“Wow,” said Dean, trying not to laugh. “Someone really took their happy pills this morning, huh? And what are you going to do once we get there?”
“Anything,” he said, excited at the prospect. “Isn’t that amazing? I get to decide. Maybe I’ll become a mechanic, like you,” he said, which made Dean chuckle. “Or perhaps I’ll work with Samuel for a change.”
This time, without meaning to, Dean made a face at the suggestion.
“No?” said Castiel, laughing.
Given Castiel’s love for suits, Dean could see this premise of Castiel working at a dry-cleaning business panning out. But the idea of Castiel working with Samuel seemed so strange to him, picturing it felt almost wrong.
“I don’t really mind what it is, Dean. All I know is that I don’t have to do the one thing I don’t want to do. Ever again.” He inhaled deeply, looking so delighted at the notion, that Dean couldn’t help but feel a warm fuzziness spread in his chest. “I can allow myself to seek out new things and find out what I do like. And you know the best part?”
Beaming at him, Dean shook his head.
“I get to discover all of it with you.”
He kissed him on the cheek.
And after staring at him fondly, Dean said, “Can’t wait.”
He took one last look at the shop and the apartment above it, remembering the first time he had set eyes on it.
And then turned to Castiel, beside him, next to the Impala.
“Ready?”
And Dean’s answer was a soft kiss to his lips.
He took his seat, and turned the ignition key once Castiel was seated next to him. Hearing the engine roar, a grin appeared on his lips, and he ran one hand over the dash.
“Is it okay if we take the scenic route?”
Castiel’s smile widened. “With many stops along the way?”
Dean chuckled.
“To stretch your legs?”
“Something like that.”
The End