#spn codas

In the weeks and months after Cas comes back and they start living a more or less peaceful life, he doesn’t get used to it.

Even after Cas says it again. And again.

He wakes up every morning to soft lips pressing kisses on his brow and he drags himself out of bed to go make them coffee, but one day, as he’s sitting at the table, yawning, waiting for the machine to beep, reality hits him.

Cas loves him.

And Sam finds him like this: vacant gaze, half a smile, the coffee forgotten in the pot and an elbow unknowingly stuck in a splotch of jam, from Jack’s midnight snack, most likely.

He doesn’t get used to it.

He may be gone from a room for just a minute, but when he comes back and sees Cas in there, it takes his breath away, because he knows how his voice sounds like when he says I love you, because that very head of hair, those blue eyes, those four limbs, that mass of light and energy and bones chose to say that to him.

He doesn’t get used to it, but it’s fine.

It’s an exhilarating feeling, a light bubbling under his skin and Dean, maybe, doesn’t want to get used to it.

A quick pull over on a longer journey. It’s almost morning. They lean against the warm hood of the Impala and watch the sun rise through their breaths. It’s a quiet moment and it only takes the weight of Cas’ body pressed to his side to make him break into a smile.

“I love you, Cas.”

Cas’ hand find his and Dean knows before looking that his eyes are shiny. He’s got a feeling Cas’ heart swells just the same way it did when Dean first told him.

He’s also not used to it.

“I never thought that one day I would know how this feels like,” he says.

Dean squeezes his hand.

Totally not random at all!! I'm so glad you enjoy my writing, especially the codas. It's always fun writing the boys and translating their voices from the show into whatever scenario I pick , like these are actually missing scenes that they never filmed. And I try to get them out quickly while the episode is still fresh in everyone's mind, so that means some late nights. It'll definitely be one of the things I miss most when Supernatural ends (I can't believe I've got 5 seasons worth of codas from it lol)

Thank you for being a fan 💖💖💖 Now go out there and read the other 10% of my Supernatural fics. And then read some of my other fics lol I'm sure you'll love them, too!

He ends up in the kitchen. He always ends up in the kitchen on nights like this. Sometimes Dean is here. Most of the time even the kitchen is filled with emptiness. He slumps to a seat letting himself feel exhausted. Sometimes Mary sat with him like this, as restless as he was, as scared to belong but wanting it anyway. One time he showed her how to make a hug emoji and she told a story of Dean hugging her when she’d had a fight with John.

He sighs and rubs a hand to his face. When did he start feeling so much…. His eyes land on a colorful package hidden behind flour and sugar packs. His fingers itch to touch it, to drag it out to the daylight. They had gone after Jack’s body to burn him. It hadn’t felt real. Not the pyre, not him as an empty husk, not the fire or smoke. Sam’s sniffs, Dean’s hoovering close to him. Perhaps the same way Cas had tried to be there for him during Mary’s funeral. He didn’t look at him so he wouldn’t know.

This though… a happy bear smiling, a handful of cereal still inside. No one has touched it since. Krunch Cookie Crunch it says. Castiel slips a hand to his pocket, but the decoder ring isn’t there anymore. He’d left it with Jack. A human sentimentality, leaving things to the dead like they could ever use them. It had burned with all that they had.

He outlines the bear, fingers tracing every turn. Jack had been good at gluing them all together. But more than anything, he had just been good. Hugging him the very first time they met face to face. Clinging to him, not hiding his feelings, smiling, proud of himself. Pushing them away to protect them, feeling useless without powers, destroying his soul because he couldn’t lose people he loved. Their son. His son. He had been so very good. Full of love and trust and honesty. Even in the end just wanting to be good.

Yippie-kai-yai-yay motherfuckers, it’s post-10x14 coda roundup time. I hunted them down, I read them, and I did it, all of it, for you. (Also in order to bind up my own tattered betrayed bleeding heart—I survive the grave insults of television writing through the cool blue-white healing grace of such fix-its.) NB that per this post, most of them involve “Cas coming into Dean’s room and spooning him until Dean stops shaking and falls asleep”; but the better ones go beyond that. If there’s an awesome one I didn’t see, tell me!

(At some point I have to do a “Best of Season Pre(ten)d” collection, because y’all been tearing it up. Some of the most agonizingly gorgeous s9 codas’ writers, however, have gone darkside/AU/wildly divergent, presumably because there’s almost nothing left to fix: so instead you get new fic like apocalypse-patisserie & robotmango's magnificently soothing Pie Without Plot.)

1. “the worst of me,” casfallsinlove

“You’re not my mission,” Cas mutters softly. “You’re my best friend.” Fuck. “Yeah, well, friends don’t break promises.” To his surprise, Cas laughs. “Dean, if you think I’m capable of killing you then you clearly haven’t been paying much attention these last few years.”

Right? RIGHT?!? I MEAN CAN I GET AN AMEN HERE. Real talk, followed by fluff like you didn’t know you needed until that moment when Cas pulls a sheet set out of a bag and starts making the bed. In a lighthouse. Oh hell to the yes. Who are you, casfallsinlove, and why are you not in LA kicking writers around like footballs?

•

2. “Canticle,” Amelia_Clark ( silibrumportes)

While you’re at it you should read every flipping thing by Amelia because she takes the top of my head off on the regular, &/or blasts a giant shotgun hole of woozy glorious joy through my chest, and if you’re in this fandom you’ll know those are really really good things (I’m still not over her frikkity-frakking Christmas armistice ficlet SWEET FANCY MOSES). So many of these codas end with Cas following Dean back to his room after the brotastic shoulder-clap, followed by some h/c Dean-as-little-spoon action; but this one is so well-written, and it, uh, yeah. You will read this one. Yes.

"Dean," Cas says back, or at least that’s the sound he makes. Dean’s pretty sure what he’s really saying, and he hates how much he wants to hear it, how much he can’t bring himself to ask. "Dean, you gave me the Blade." "Yeah," says Dean. He doesn’t say because you’ll need to kill me with it, someday soon, before you die. They never say these things; Dean doesn’t know whether it would change anything if they did. "Dean," Cas says again, "please," and he raises his hand to brush so gently over the cuts on Dean’s face. He doesn’t heal them—not enough mojo to spare—but there’s still a jolt to his touch, a white light sparking between them.

•

3. “coup de foudre,” mishcollin

The author bills this one as a Valentine’s fic but I’m treating it like a coda because that makes me feel better. Actually just that this exists makes me feel better. Established not-quite-relationship-what-is-this-thing-we’re-doing-but-not-talking-about. Fluff like soft sterilized gauze applied to a wound. So good.

Dean realizes, way too late, that he never should’ve started this with Cas, who’s probably the only creature on earth with a stronger willpower than Dean’s, and probably the only creature on earth who can break Dean’s libido within a matter of seconds. When Sam looks away again, Dean makes a face at Cas and mouths, fiercely, Cut it out, to which Cas mouths back, eyebrows raised, You started this, which. Yeah. "So what do you think?" Sam asks, after a couple more minutes of white noise. "Worth checking out?" "Yeah, definitely," Dean says without knowing what he’s agreeing to, and that’s how it starts.

•

4. “Swimming,” frozen_delight

Engrossing character sketch of everyone’s favorite not-so-righteous-lately Righteous Man, via unexpectedly affecting water metaphors. Author’s tagged it “pre-slash” but even if you don’t ship it, there’s lovely evocative ragged haunted descriptioning.

The lake is shallow enough that Dean can see right to the sandy bottom. The surrounding pine trees are reflected on the surface, affording shade and peace. Calmly, Dean does the crawl from one side of the lake to the other, thinking of nothing but his limbs moving in the water. He’s counting his strokes, one, two, three, four, five, when a movement to his right catches his attention. It’s Cas. “What are you doing here?” Dean asks….It’s been a while since Cas has visited one of his dreams.

•

5. “At the Edge of a Blade,” relucant

Horrifying and totally show-like, in that you can absolutely picture this scene unfurling in pure Ladouceur verisimilitude. Only, you know, way better writing. Cough. For, as relucant notes, SPN doesn’t let us have nice things.

"Dean," he says. "Look at me." Reluctantly Dean drags his eyes to Castiel’s face. There are tears pooling in the shimmering blue, but a small smile curls on his lips. "I’ve made peace with how my story ends. I’m old, Dean. I’m very old. I’ve watched unimaginable beauty and unspeakable tragedy for millennia, without understanding what it meant. And you changed that." "Cas, don’t," Dean chokes, turning his head away, and Cas is silent for a moment. "My grace is fading, Dean," he finally says. "I don’t have long left."

•

BONUS: “all that you need is in your soul,” xylodemon.

the ‘when Asmodeus had Cas, Lucy and Gabriel’ Codas...sassy Cas, tortured Gabe, whining Lucy

“What do you mean?”

Dean stops walking and watches him, not locking the eyes though.

Instead he reaches out and straightens the lapel of Cas’s trenchcoat. “You, uh, you missed to fix it,” Dean mumbles as he withdraws his hand too quickly for Cas to grab it. As if he’d been electrocuted. By Castiel.

“Oh. Thank you?”

“So, you’re not fine,” Dean goes on.

Cas sighs. “What do you want me to say? That I’m not fine? I can’t see how that could change or help anyone. That it hurt when you didn’t recognize it wasn’t me? That it,” he has to swallow his words, “that it hurt you didn’t look for me?” he says too much and still even more is left unsaid.

Dean swallows, his eyes full of moist and makes an abandoned move to grab Cas. Instead he stills, lips moving without saying anything. It’s infuriating and Cas doesn’t understand when the change happened. Dean used to touch him all the time, lingering his hands longer than for anyone else. He almost snaps, he almost grabs at Dean and forces him to touch him, to really look at him. But one look at Dean makes the thought disappear.

“Dean, it, it wasn’t you fault. I know that and I don’t blame you. You shouldn’t do that to yourself either, I...” I don’t like seeing you like this, your pain hurts me more than anything you do could ever hurt me. He leaves that part out. “Yes, it hurts, but neither of us was in control, stupid circumstances. And yes, maybe I’m not truly fine, but I am getting there. I will be fine, Dean.”

“Okay, okay,” Dean nods, a little bit of tension leaving his body, as if he’s almost believing Cas. It’s a relief. It gives Cas reason to smile a little. Dean’s eyes widen, he almost smiles himself. Finally their eyes meet and it’s like coming home. So close, and never close enough. Still, it will always be a blessing.

So, Cas doesn’t know why he has to ruin it with his next words. Maybe it’s the acceptance, the warmth, the invite in Dean’s eyes and he just can’t be silent. “In the Empty, I made a peace to myself and I’m glad. Whatever happens I’m glad I came back to you.” and that’s it. Dean closes off again, even worse than before. “To all of you, to this world,” he adds, hoping it would smooth his choice of words, but Dean is just shaking his head, looking anywhere but at Cas.

“Don’t,” he gets out and it sounds like a silent cry, a plea almost swallowed by the tiny voice.

“Dean? I,” he reaches out, all his senses telling him to comfort Dean, to touch him, but Dean steps back. Dean steps back from Castiel, scared. Scared of him? And that reminds too many times he’s hurt him. Still, even those times Dean rarely physically stepped back from him.

“Don’t touch me,” something in Castiel breaks. “Don’t, I, I can’t,” Dean is swallowing rapidly, his breathing coming close to panic. “I can’t go back there.” he manages to finish, almost crying. They have so many almosts, too many.

“Go where?” he asks before understanding. Go back to that time.

“Cas, you were dead. I, I had to… you were dead,” the whisper is so painful that Cas forgets and reaches out again. He shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t, Dean doesn’t want him to and he almost withdraws, but to his surprise Dean suddenly grabs his waist and pulls him into a hug. Cas closes it, rubbing his hands tight on Dean’s back. It feels right. Painful and sad and overwhelming and impossible and shattering. And mending and full of heart and always so right.

There’s still more questions than answers, more left unsaid than said. Dean still refuses to look at him, hiding his face on Cas’s shoulder. But maybe it’s a start.

Inspired by this post by @silvie111

AO3

There really hadn’t been time to breathe in recent weeks. What, with cosmic consequences looming over Cas (and perhaps the entire world as usual), Ishim being an even greater dick than most angels, forgetting everything about everyone, Cas pretty much dying … It was really kind of a miracle they were still up and running. If Dean believed in miracles, which he certainly did not. So when they were finally back home even Dean himself noticed how clingy of Cas he had turned. Not letting him out of his sight. He tried real hard not to touch constantly though and usually it worked.

Cas would stand up and Dean would study him behind his book until Sam kicked him in the foot to make him get back to work. Right. Clues on Kelly Kline. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to find her. They needed to, yeah, but since when have want and need been the same thing?

Cas would go to make them all some coffee and Dean would squeeze into his space to help, as if filling one lousy cup was such a bonebreaking task. Brushing their fingers together. By accident, those things always happened by accident.

Cas would say he’s gonna stay up at night for research and Dean would stumble out of his room three times per night to get a glass of water, accidentally walking past the library where Cas was working.

Cas would breathe a little too rapidly and Dean would rush over, one hand settling on Castiel’s back or shoulder. And Cas would be fine. Well, he wasn’t in the beginning. The first night back they had sat, back against the kitchen counter and they had both fallen asleep. Cas had been tired.

He has been tired for years now, becoming more human-like with every stab, every time he chooses measly humans over heaven. It isn’t even a choice anymore, they are family, that’s how it worked and Dean knew it. He had prayed to Cas when the sun was saved and he didn’t die and mom showed up out of the darkness. Cas’s reaction when seeing him again spoke for itself. He hadn’t known. He couldn’t hear the prayers anymore. He had still tried when the government had them, just to kill time with something, Cas hadn’t mentioned hearing anything. Dean didn’t ask.

They hadn’t really talked since Ramiel, but the silence was warm and welcoming instead of the cold breeze after what happened with Billie. So Dean checked up on Cas in other ways, giving his best not to notice Sam’s overly amused smiles.