Destiel Fanfictions

You're Home To Me

A/N

Multiple updates in one day? That's right, get ready for a stream of updates because I have stories lined up for this. WARNING: slightly sad. Loves. -M

Not for the first time, Cas wished he had been able to convince Dean to stay in the safety of Vault 101. But Dean was always looking for adventure. He'd wanted to save the world. He hadn't known then that there wasn't much world left to save - just burned out buildings, a whole lot of dirt, and scavengers that would rather see them dead.
At least they had each other.
But then Dean disappeared. He hadn't even left a note.
Cas heard later that a freckled boy had been killed outside of one of the makeshift survivor towns. Cas looked for months but never found the body.
One day, he gave up. He picked up a sniper rifle and never looked back.
The locals, decent folk and scavengers alike, called him 'Angel.' He swooped in, saved those who needed and deserved saving, and then disappeared again. He never talked to anyone. Never even stayed for a thank you.
He was still alive, but he was a ghost. He'd died with Dean.
*
Dean checked the rounds in his revolver. He had to ration carefully or he'd be in trouble if he ran into scavengers on the way back to town.
He sighed. Part of him wanted to give up this hunt early and head back now. Angel was a pro. Dean shouldn't rush a job like this no matter how good the bounty was.
But man, that bounty was good. He could retire for the rest of the year with a paycheck that big.
If only he didn't have to kill a good man to get it.
Angel was a legend. Hunting bad guys, making the world generally safer. If you could even make a world as fucked as theirs safe. Angel was trying though. Too bad it was a fool's errand.
Nothing would ever change.
And good guys never paid up.
If you wanted to survive, you couldn't live a squeaky clean life.
Not for the first time, Dean wished he had listened to Cas and stayed in Vault 101.
It had been boring, sure. But they would have been safe.
Cas wouldn't have died.
Dean had gone out before Cas had woken up to scout the terrain. Try to figure out which way led to a town that wasn't as corrupt as the first they'd visited - the one that stole all their money and then locked them out of the safety of the walls.
He came back to an empty campsite. Later, he'd heard a blue-eyed beauty had been killed by vigilantes. Dean looked, but he never found the body.
Cas would have kept him good.
But Cas was dead.
Dean closed the chamber and adjusted his wide-brimmed hat, shielding his eyes from the sun.
Time to kill an angel.
*
From Cas's vantage point atop the cliff-face, he could see for miles. But only in one direction.
He'd been hunted before. He should have been better prepared.
Maybe he got cocky over the past few years. Or maybe he just didn't care anymore if he lived or died.
But when a hunter kicked away his rifle, and then held a revolver to the side of his head, the reason why didn't seem to matter so much.
"Go on, then," Cas said, voice rough, gravelly. He hadn't spoken aloud in years. The last thing he'd ever said was Dean's name.
"You want to die?" The hunter's face hid in shadow.
"No." Cas's bottom lip trembled so he bit it. "I want to go back to Vault 101."
"Vault 101?"
"I want to go home." You couldn't go back into the vault once you left. Those were the rules. And even if he could, he wouldn't want to without Dean. He wanted a time machine. He wanted his life back.
He wanted Dean back.
"You can't go back once you're out," the hunter said, not as strong as before. He took a small step forward and tossed Cas a bandana. "Wipe some of that smudge off your face."
Cas blinked. Those were strange orders to give a dead man, but still he obliged. He'd rather die marginally cleaner, anyway.
"When did you grow that beard?" the hunter asked.
Cas lowered the bandana. He squinted, trying to make out the hunter's face in the shadow, but the sun was too bright behind him.
"No reason to shave out here alone."
"Why 'Angel?'" the hunter asked.
"I didn't pick it." He hadn't opposed to it, though. When Dean had died, Cas's real name died with him.
The hunter lowered his gun. Cas thought of attacking, but only for the length of time it took the hunter to push up on the brim of his hat, revealing his face.
A face Cas knew well, even if it had aged a bit.
Green eyes were wide, glassy. Devastated. "Why did you leave me, Cas?"
Cas's world came to a screeching halt. "Dean." He scrambled to his feet.
Dean stepped back, putting more distance between them. "I scouted. I came back and you were gone."
"I woke up and you were gone!" Cas said. He tried again to move closer, but Dean always moved away just as much.
"They told me you were dead." Dean's voice trembled. "At town."
"They told me you had been killed by scavengers," Cas said. They'd lied. They'd all lied.
Only liars survived.
But no. That couldn't be true. Because Dean was here. And Cas never lied in his life.
Tears escaped Cas's eyes. "You're alive. Dean, I -"
"Shut up, Cas," Dean said, as he stormed across the distance between them. He took Cas in his arms and kissed him hard and full on the mouth. When they broke for air, he whimpered, "Just shut up," and kissed him more.
Cas clung to him just as desperately.
Later, tired and sated and curled up together on the edge of that cliff-face, watching the sunset over the valley, Dean kissed Cas on the cheek and whispered, "I'm not the same man I was, Cas. I've done things. I've hurt people."
Cas hugged him tightly. "You did what you had to do to survive." Softer, he added, "So did I." But then he shook his head. "We're together now. None of that matters anymore."
"We can't go back to the vault. We can't go home."
Cas looked at Dean's face - at those bright green eyes and those freckles, at the beautiful man he never thought he'd see again - and he smiled.
"You're home to me, Dean."