Chapter Text
Now
When the portal opens, every single one of Dean's muscles locks up. The black slime crawling out of it and towards them, the wet sucking sound of a cosmic void clawing into a place where it has no business being — it’s all exactly the same.
But then a warm, strong hand settles on his shoulder and Dean's body slowly remembers that today is going to be different in all the ways that matter.
This time, they’re not in a damp, dark dungeon with Death herself banging on the door. Nobody’s dying; nobody can be, because they’re already in Heaven. Cas isn’t saying goodbye. In fact, Cas is right here, healthy and whole, leaning against Baby beside Dean and touching him, casual as hell, in the same spot on Dean's shoulder where he first put his mark all those years ago.
This thing between them is still brand new, and it feels bewildering and wonderful: endless possibilities, spread out before him like an all-you-can-eat-buffet. Every time Cas touches him, no matter how innocently, it lights Dean up all the way to his fingertips.
Still, he makes an effort to drag his attention away from the point where Cas’ heat seeps through his skin and direct it to the scene unfolding in front of them, because this is a big moment. A moment of rebirth.
About twenty feet away, Jack watches expectantly as the Empty portal widens. It grows and grows, but Jack doesn’t seem alarmed, and he’s been at this cosmic entity stuff long enough now that Dean trusts he’s got it under control. Or if not him, then Amara.
Finally, the portal settles, at a size large enough to allow a fully grown adult man through — maybe even an overgrown one like Sam.
(There’s a quick moment of regret that Sam isn’t here to see this, because his inner lore nerd would fucking love what’s about to happen, but he’s still down on Earth living his life, getting arthritis and eating kale, just as he should be. It’s better this way. And right now, Dean’s got everything he needs, in the hand on his shoulder that holds him safe.)
For a single moment suspended in time, nothing happens. And then the first figure steps through the portal.
“Ya miss me?” Gabriel asks, grinning as he spins in a circle with arms outstretched, and Dean is almost annoyed with himself because he’s actually kinda missed that archangel’s stupid face.
Cas obviously feels the same. “Gabriel,” he says warmly, and then his hand releases Dean’s shoulder so he can stride over to his brother and wrap him in a hug. Gabriel looks a little surprised at the enthusiastic reception, but not at all displeased.
More new arrivals are making their way through the portal now: all the angels who either started out on the right side of history and went down for it, or have since repented and wanted another go at serving Heaven under the new regime.
There’s Balthazar, who narrows his eyes at Cas before breaking into a grin and kissing his cheek. (Cas looks equal parts bewildered and relieved.) There’s Anna, who gives Dean a slightly awkward wave, and Rachel, who accuses Cas of not taking care of himself. (Dean chooses to take this as a personal insult because taking care of Cas is his job these days.)
And then there’s Uriel.
Man, it’s been ages since Dean last saw him — well over a decade now — and nothing about him has changed. He looks exactly the same — of course he does. The same as he did when he called humans “mud monkeys,” talked about the destruction of an entire town like it was nothing and tried to kill Cas.
Dean is on the verge of striding over to where Jack is standing by the portal and watching the procession of rehabilitated angels, to ask him if he’s really, totally sure about letting this Uriel character back into Heaven.
But that’s when Uriel notices him, his eyes widening slightly. He immediately changes course, walking straight toward Dean.
“Cas?” Dean nudges Cas with his elbow, distracting him from an apparently at least semi-joyous reunion with Hannah. “Cas, it’s Uriel.”
Immediately, Cas stiffens and closes what little distance they have between them. By the time Uriel reaches them, they’re standing side by side with no room for Jesus, let alone former rogue angels.
“Dean,” Uriel says, nodding solemnly. “Castiel.”
“Uriel,” Cas growls. “I wish I could say it was good to see you again.”
“I don’t blame you for holding a grudge, Castiel.” Uriel looks back and forth between them with a sense of… ceremony? That’s the word that comes to mind. Dean can’t make heads or tails of it. “But I’ve had a lot of time to reflect in the Empty, and I’m here to offer my apologies. And to return something to you.”
“Return…?” Cas asks. Judging by the way his eyes have narrowed to a squint and his head has tipped ever so slightly to the side, he doesn’t know what this is about any more than Dean does.
Before Dean can so much as exchange a bewildered glance with Cas, Uriel raises his hands and touches two fingers to each of their foreheads.