Eyes Are The Windows Of The Soul

Epilogue

We spent a lot of time alone after that, lying in bed, talking, not talking, kissing, letting that connection grow. We learned everything about each other that we could. I learned what buttons to push to upset Dean. He learned mine. I learned what spots to kiss, to caress to make him do anything I wanted him to. We became intertwined, not like two halves of a whole, but an entire whole, with no beginning and no end.

We hunted together, sometimes with Sam, sometimes not. We raised children left behind from families on the business. We kicked evil in the ass and got a little in return. It wasn’t easy the entire time. We had our difficulties. We parted for a time here and there. We almost lost each other on more than a single occasion. Yet, we had everything we had ever wanted. We had family. We had hope. We had love.

And more importantly, we had each other.

~*~

Many years after that night in Louisville, I crept into our room in Bobby’s old house. (The Winchester brother’s had inherited it after Bobby died.) I set down the TV tray that I had brought in with me on the bedside table closest to Dean.

I brought the wrinkled calloused hand to me lips. Dean slowly blinked his eyes open. A thin layer of blue had clouded over his beautifully green irises, and the whites around them had started to turn the color of aged paper. Despite that, they were still my own loving Dean’s eyes.

Dean smiled up at him with yellowing teeth.

“Hello, Angel.” He reached towards me and kissed my lips.

“How are you feeling today, my love?” I smiled against his mouth.

Dean grunted as he and I struggled to sit him upright. “Old,” he grumbled. “Useless, sick, you know, the usual.”

“Well, you can point that finger right back at you,” I laughed as I sat on the bed next to him. “We all told you to slow down on the whiskey. You knew your liver wouldn’t hold out much longer. Consider it a blessing that your organs are as stubborn as you are.” Dean gave a breathy laugh to that statement.

I took the TV tray from the nightstand. “I made some oatmeal for you. Would you like some?”

“Cas, you know how I feel about that rabbit food.”

“Actually, race horses, certain types of dogs, and –“

He pulled me into a slow kiss again.

“You know what I mean feather head,” he smiled softly.

“At least drink some water, please?”

“Yeah yeah, okay.”

His light was dwindling quickly. I could see that his strength was leaving, even for how hard it was to keep the liquid from escaping his lips. It wouldn’t be much longer before Dean was healthy and young again. I felt a bittersweet emotion flare in my chest at the thought.

Dean finished the glass with an ah. “Would you mind if I slept in just a little bit longer? I don’t think I feel as good as yesterday.” He handed me the cup, and I let my hand stay on his for a little longer than normal.

“Yes, of course. We all have our bad days.” I stood up and helped Dean settle into the slopped mattress, worn by many years worth of memories. Memories of when they were young, in love, and couldn’t get enough of each other. Oh, how I wish we could go back to then. As much as I knew that there were better times ahead, I couldn’t get the nostalgia from my mind.

I leaned over and kissed Dean’s mouth hard, yet gentle, full of love, respect, adoration, and pain. He was surprised. He tried to respond with as much passion as he could conjure up, but he was already fading.

“Cas?” Dean whispered. I pulled back and looked into his eyes. The blue layer was gone, revealing the diming soul behind his dull green eyes. The grace from the kiss had torn it away. He wiped a tear from my smooth, ageless cheek. I let out a small sob. His expression shifted a fraction, as if he understood what was happening.

“I love you, Angel. I always have. And I always will. Remember that. Okay? No matter what, no matter how many lies surround you, how much it hurts, always know that I had never lied about that.”

He didn’t know. “Dean-“ he began.

“Cas… I’m so tired. I’ll talk when I feel better, okay?”

“Okay.” I sobbed again. I moved to the other side of the bed and wrapped my arms around Dean’s thick torso. His liver had failed a couple of times by now due to liver cancer, causing his middle to swell. His skin was dry and yellow, his limbs were frail. Dean could never accept it, blaming it on some flu, or virus. But inside, somewhere, he knew. He would never let me use my grace on him, claiming “it wasn’t that big of a deal”. He thought he had to stay strong for me, for Sam. Sam had left a couple years after I found out. It was too hard watching his big brother whittle away.

Tears had made their way onto Dean’s loose Def Leppard T-shirt, creating a darker black circle on his shoulder. His breaths were slowing, his heart beating softer.

It took an hour for them to both stop altogether. I held him tighter, my sobs clawing their way up my throat. I reached up and shakily kissed his forehead before resting my head on it. I fought to calm myself as I dug into Dean’s abdomen.

It was there, bright and hot.

Dean’s soul.

I held tight to it as I pulled away: away from Dean’s body, away from my own. I catapulted us both to the sky, into the light.

~*~

We were both at rest. We both lived the rest of eternity with each other, like those precious moments while putting Dean back together. We were free, young yet old, away but there.

Finally, we were both home.