Through Demon Eyes

Weary Heads Part 2 (end)

Cas unlocked the bunker, walked down the stairs and carefully placed the bundles Coyote had made on the long table where Sam and Dean had often sat. Since Metatron had gifted him with the entirety of every book or movie he had ever read or seen the description of the Lakota Keeping of the Soul ceremony had come to him as they had waited in the panic room while Sam and Dean had battled each other. He had asked Running Coyote that even though he wasn't a Lakota or technically a human if the ceremony could be modified in some way that he could do it. Rising Dove said that he felt that angel, even a fading one, was more than worthy of Keeping the Souls of two warriors of Sam and Dean's caliber. Once Sam and Dean were dead, they gathered blood, hair and several small things that Cas knew were precious to the brothers. Sam still had a photo of him and Jessica in his wallet, Dean had one of their mother and one of the boys with their father. Running Coyote had prepared the pouches in the traditional way and gave them to Cas.

Once he set the pouches down he found some pens and walked to the outer wall of the bunker. Slowly and with much care he drew several signs in Enochian on the walls. The bunker was warded in ways that not even he was familiar with but what he was drawing was designed to make a small path for two very specific spirits to find their way to and through. Once he finished he placed the keys for the Impala and John's diary on either side of the pouches and sat down to wait.

Two weeks had passed and Castiel was three chapters into a book written by the exiled Men of Letters, Magnus, that was an extensive thesis on the strengths and weaknesses of angels. How their grace could be taken from them, Angel blades and the various factions within Heaven at that time. “It's perhaps a good thing that the other Men of Letters didn't believe what this man wrote. Things would have been much worse for us if they had.” The lights in the room he was in flickered, static and feedback hissed from an old radio across the room from him. He smiled and set the book down.

“Sa..Wh...”

“Almos....not as eas....”

Sam's image flickered a few times then faded.

“Wha..abo?" A lamp skittered across the room.“Damn..sorry.” A somewhat translucent Dean manifested and managed to stay solid for several seconds before fading away again.

Cas walked to the dining area and picked up the two pouches. “Sam, Dean, focus on these. It should help.”

The lights in the dining room sparked, the coffee pot started dinging and a few dishes crashed to the floor.

“Finally!” Dean said as he solidified and sat down.

Sam manifested in the doorway, “What are those?”

“I am the Keeper of Your Souls.” Castiel announced.

“Nagi Gluhapi? Really?” Sam asked.

A wry, proud and somewhat respectful grin crossed Dean's face. “Coyote knows her magic, I'll give her that. As soon as you picked up those pouches it was like the veil just dropped. Not that I'm complaining but shouldn't I be in Hell?”

Cas set down the pouches and smiled, “Crowley chose not to claim your soul.”

Sam laughed, “He's probably afraid you'd take over just to be a pain in his ass.”

“I probably would too.”

“Yes, well he also said goodbye to you at your funeral,” Cas added, “I thought you should know.”

Sam and Dean exchanged a long look, Dean spoke first, “For the King of Hell, he's not really all that bad.”

Sam just snickered and rolled his eyes.

“So, the bunker? Keeping our Souls? What's this all about Cas?” Dean asked.

Cas sat down across from Dean and motioned for Sam to take a seat as well. In an odd way, everything felt right. Even though he was talking to two ghosts and he was close to dead himself the world seemed to make sense again. “As you are well aware of, especially now, spirits aren't getting into Heaven and I refused to leave the two of you drifting in the veil. This is your home and this is where you should be until I can figure out how to reverse Metatron's spell. That, and, well, I'm not sure if you heard what I said at your funeral.”

“We did,” Dean said. “Thank you. That was more than we deserved.”

Cas saw the gratitude in their faces, “No, it was much less than you deserve, both of you, but it was what was in my heart.”

“Then that's all that mattered,” Sam replied. “We'd hug you, but the whole arms passing through your body thing would be awkward.”

Cas had to smile at that, “Indeed. I decided that to honor you and in some way make up for everything we angels and God have put you through I would watch over you until I can release your souls into Heaven so you can see all your loved ones again. I hope that you're not upset that I have anchored you here, and to me.”

Genuine smiles brightened their faces, taking years off of them and reminding Castiel of how things had been between them all those years ago.

“Can't think of anywhere else we'd rather be. Right Sammy?”

“Right. Guess it's research time again. We'll have to figure out how to turn pages.”

“I wonder if there's a way to drink beer as a ghost” Dean asked. “After all, all those pagan gods had their followers leave alcohol for them.”

Sam rolled his eyes again, “We're ghosts Dean, not gods.”

“Give it time, we'll get there.”

Sam just shook his head and laughed. “Go get some books Cas, may as well get started.”

Dean got serious again, “If we start getting out of hand or vengeful. Just banish us Cas. Seriously.”

“I doubt that will happen,” Cas replied. “You chose your deaths, you have no unfinished business or rage in you. I pledged to try to live a peaceful, harmonious life while I guard you so you won't be exposed to violence and nothing can get through the wards here to harm you. You should be just fine.” He assured them, then left to get some books.

Sam and Dean looked at each other, “He's right,” Dean said.

Sam's face turned thoughtful “Funny.”

“What?”

“We've finally become Men of Letters after all. Doing research, concocting spells, all that,” Sam pointed out.

“So instead of hunting things, saving people being the family business, it's reading books and writing sigils?”

“Aren't they they same thing in the end? The family business, Henry did this part, Dad did the hunting part. We did both.”

Dean thought about everything they had found in the bunker, how words were just as powerful as guns. “Guess we truly are legacies after all.”

Castiel walked back in, set a few books in front of them. “For now, just tell me when to turn a page. Oh, since Enochian is my native language, I'll translate. I have noticed a few errors in what I read while I was waiting for you.”

Dean got a slightly offended look on his face, “I'll turn my own pages, thanks much. I'm a ghost, not an invalid.”

Sam started laughing so hard he actually disappeared, leaving a disembodied laugh behind him. Cas looked calmly at Dean, “Of course Dean, I wasn't suggesting you were.”

“Good, now let's fix Heaven. Sam! Settle down and get back here.”

Sam reappeared back in his chair, “Sure Dean. Let's do this.”

“And Cas? Get some music going will you?”

Cas nodded, turned the radio on, rock music filled the room and they settled down to set things right.

End