The Last Goodbye

14

Dean squeezed his eyelids tight and collapsed to the hot earth next to the impala. Dust was kicked into the air by his lumbering brother as he rushed to his side; dirt filled Dean's lungs and threw him into a coughing fit. Sam's massive hand pounded against his back in an attempt to help clear his lungs. Each hallow thump on Dean's ribcage was accompanied by his brother's jumbled apologies.

"Sam...Sam!" Dean's voice crackled as his yelled, roughened from the irritation in his chest. "Jesus, Sam, stop. Please. You're gonna break my damn ribs." He spat into the dirt. The painful tickle in his lungs finally began to fade away.

Sam stood, and with a hand on Dean's elbow, pulled his brother up with him.

"Dean, are you injured?" the familiar depth of Cas' voice pierced him and he glanced across the hood of his car to the man in a trench-coat. Cas scrutinized Dean with the typical concerned arched brow he had come to expect after a close call, but the hunter became uneasy when he spotted the solemn guilt in his stare.

Dean felt Sam delicately part the hair on the back of his head to get a better look at his oozing head wound.

"You need to be healed, man. This gash is really bad. I doubt we have time for me to sew it up after your big jailbreak. Why don't you let Cas fix you up-" and both angels stepped eagerly toward Dean.

Sam looked from Elle to Dean to Cas and back to his brother, who looked to his feet and sighed. After too long a moment, Sam Winchester finally caught on. He ran his fingers through his shaggy, chestnut hair and tugged on his scalp. His jaw fell silently open. His gaze darted between his three companions.

"Take it easy there, bro," Dean murmured. "Don't hurt yourself."

Sam whispered, almost inaudibly, "I knew it..."

"I'm sorry, you knew what?" Dean projected cynically.

"You! You and Cas! I knew y'all were-" Dean dared his little brother to continue with a combative scoff, "you guys are like... how you are..." Sam tried to reign in his accusative tone. The present Cas groaned, resigned at his friend's overdue realization. "But wait... okay. So I understand, you know, this look..." Sam ogled Elle suggestively as he spoke. Dean hid his face behind his hands- he would have sold his soul to avoid this conversation now, or any like it in the future. "Well, I understand kind of I guess. I didn't think it mattered that much but whatever..." Dean's severe stare dared Sam to continue his train of thought. "What I don't understand is why Heaven wants you dead so badly."

For the first time, Dean carefully considered the idea Sam had articulated. Why were the angels so determined to kill them? Why did Dean and Cas being together piss Heaven off that fucking much? What was the harm in an angel and a hunter being... oh.

Sam waited clueless for an answer, while Dean came to the only conclusion he could. Dean moved steadily to the future Castiel, and stopped dead in front of her. He didn't bring his eyes to hers at first. Mere inches of empty space separated them. Dean scrutinized her abdomen. He brought his fingers to her middle, and slid them under the edges of her shirt. She inhaled sharply when his skin brushed hers.

"Nephilim..." Dean mouthed, inaudible even to the angel who was so close to him, each breath was shared.

"What, Dean?" Sam pried, as he stepped toward the pair. Dean and the angel were lost in each other's eyes in the annoying way Sam had grown accustomed to over the years.

"She's pregnant, Sam," offered the gravelly voice from the opposite side of the car.

As much as he tried, Sam couldn't piece together enough words to form a coherent response. He watched helplessly as his brother fell apart in the arms of his future lover.

The present Cas had climbed in the back of the impala and shut the door to drown the muffled sobs of Dean Winchester. He longed for the emotional numbness he experienced his first few millennia of existence; for every painless, empty moment he had endured before he pulled the righteous man from the bowels of Hell.