D U S T [in the] W I N D

[Dean Winchester]

If Dean had a dollar for every time he had set foot in a cemetery, he'd be a rich man by now. Granted, he and his brother ran credit card scams to get by and, therefore, could get pretty much anything that they wanted . . . they usually kept it to the bare minimum. No fancy dinners or suits, no expensive electronics . . . Well, okay, there was that laptop that Sam bought to replace the one he had lost in the crash, but that was necessities. It was funny how the boys defined their necessities as so different from everyone else . . . Guns, salt, holy water, laptops, fuel, all needs, not wants. All things that would keep them alive. And speaking of alive . . . Dean slammed the iron gate of the cemetery behind him and crossed into it, damp grass pushed flat beneath his boots as he made his way farther into the shadowed recesses. No moon in the sky tonight, it was covered over by ominous clouds. About as ominous as the mood that he felt at the moment, all things considered. His world had turned topsy-turvy in under an hour and Dean had not managed to still the sensation that the world was still spinning rapidly beneath his feet. He could not die. His brain was still wrapping around that one, such to the extent that he almost felt like throwing himself in front of a car or jumping off a cliff just to prove to himself, again, that he was not making this up or dreaming.

He could not die. He was Immortal.

And there was only one being on the planet at the moment that he wanted to talk to . . . and it, sadly, was not Sam. Because he was still trying to figure out how to tell his baby brother that things had changed . . . again. Instead he had called Sam to waylay his worry. Something had come up, he had to clear his head, no, don't worry, don't be such a dork, get back to your geek boyness . . . the usual and then he was off the phone and on his way somewhere quiet. Somewhere that he could yell if he wanted and not get noticed. Because the one person that he wanted to talk to was really the one not person that he wanted to yell at. Castiel. Because if anyone knew what the hell was going on it was the angel that kept shadowing his shoulder all over the place. It was the one being that seemed to know more than he should at all times. Dean came to a stop in front of a headstone that faintly read "Marks" in fading granite before tilting his head around the night and taking in a deep breath. "Cass! We need to talk. Now." And the bellow in his voice, the tense strain in his tone, he knew, would bring Cass out of the shadows. All he had to do was stand there and wait.

[Castiel]

Truth be told, the number of secrets Castiel kept ranged into the millions. It was his duty to keep such secrets out of the wrong hands, but sometimes, it was taxing. He was ordered to keep Dean Winchesters immortality under wraps and it pained him to not tell the hunter what had happened to him. It was enough to have the hunter racing to stop the Seals from breaking when he… Castiel sighed, feeling air leave his vessel‘s lungs. Dean might have remembered but he had done in Hell, but that was not even the half of it. There was still so much the hunter needed to know and Castiel feared there was not enough time to tell him everything. The apocalypse was coming, and angels and hunters were in a race to stop it.

He had known Dean was heading to the cemetery, knew he was angry about the secrets Castiel had been forced to keep. The younger Winchester was still kept in the dark, but the brothers kept so much from each other, Castiel wondered how long it would be before the dam broke and everything between them came rushing forth. Uriel had never liked Sam, but Castiel was willing to give him a change. As long as Sam was still on the same side as his brother.

He appeared behind Dean, out in the open, not wanting to hide anymore. The night, it seemed, matched the hunter‘s mood. Dark and gloomy, with an approaching storm still off in the distance. He watched the human for a long moment, then spoke, “What‘s on your mind, Dean?”

[Dean Winchester]

Dean could remember the first time he had laid eyes on the complacent and calm angel that had left his hand-print burned into his shoulder. The mark was still there, faint, but it was there and Dean was pretty sure that no amount of Immortal healing power was going to make that particular tattoo go away. He could remember easily enough the barn doors blowing open and Castiel striding in . . . and then his ludicrous announcement that he was an angel of the Lord. But Dean was now inclined to believe him, even though he had once ranked angels up on the same list with unicorns and leprechauns. Even so, he had seen enough proof in the last few weeks to know that Castiel was telling the truth and while Dean still did not appreciate being jerked around by higher powers that didn't give a damn -- he had started trying to not take it out on Castiel.

The elder Winchester turned as the familiar voice sounded behind him, the cool tone that seemed damn near unshakable. If Cass ever lost his composure, Dean would probably start to worry. But as it was, Dean knew that he was the one in danger of losing his composure even though he stoically tightened his jaw against the overwhelming thoughts running through his mind and paced a few steps closer to the angel that had magically appeared. "Did ya forget to mention something damned important when you jerked my ass outta the charbroil pit?" Dean demanded, his hazel eyes flashing. Yes, something important. Like he couldn't die. That was important in his book. Dean turned back around and kicked a clot of the earth up from the ground with the toe of his boot, wanting to really find something to hunt because he really wanted to shoot something.

"You would think that all this time, Cass, and you coulda found the time to mention that I can't die. No wait, lemme get this right. I can't die unless someone hacks off my head! And now I'm supposed to keep up with this damn Immortal thing -- and the world is still ending . . . Any of this blowin' up your skirt, pal?" Dean asked turning back around to cross his arms over his chest as he regarded the angel in front of him. A holy tax accountant even if the look did suite Castiel more than it would have on anybody else . . . But Cass's choice in dress code was not the reason they were standing in the cemetery. Dean was confused as hell over Cass considering sometimes the angel played by the rules and other times he seemed to break them for Dean's sake alone. But this . . . Dean was pretty sure Cass should have told him this.

[Castiel]

Castiel watched Dean calmly, letting the human blow off the steam he needed to blow off. Dean had a right to know what had happened to him, and Cas was surprised the secret had gotten this far without getting out. Cool blue eyes met stormy green but Cas held his ground. Dean Winchester was strong and immortal now, but the angel would still take him out without so much as a second thought. His chin tilted up slightly, regarding Dean as he finally stopped speaking.

“You had a right to know, and I am sorry I couldn‘t tell you. There are some things you need to discover for yourself, things I cannot help you with.” Castiel’s eyes fell to the ground briefly before he looked back up. Could he make Dean understand that he had orders to keep that secret from him? The less the hunter knew, the better off he was. “What would you have done if I had told you instead of you finding out on your own? You would still be as angry as you are now, Dean.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. He could still feel the anger radiating off Dean, and it was only going to be worse by the time their conversation was over. Castiel had his limits to the knowledge he would give Dean, but he was ready to suffer the consequences for telling him everything he needed to know.

“I had my orders, and I had to obey them. I will tell you this, however. You were immortal before your deal with Lilith came to an end, but because your soul was dragged to hell, you could not come back. As soon as the angels realized this, I was sent to retrieve you.” Castiel knew he was only telling half the story, and that Dean‘s venture to Hell was a mistake on the heavenly host‘s behalf. As soon as the angels realized what Dean was doing, what Dean had done, they sent their best to pull him out. But by then it was already too late. The damage had been done, and they could not reverse it.

[Dean Winchester]

Dean could admit that when he first met Castiel he had thought the guy was a joke but once he realized that Cass was the real deal, well . . . It had become clear to Dean that while Cass followed his orders given by his invisible higher-ups, he also went out of his way in his own way to make things easier for Dean to handle. There had been a few times when Castiel had helped him out of one bind or another and Dean was edging toward calling the angel a . . . friend . . . rather than just an ally. But he would not admit such a thing aloud and so he said nothing, keeping his stoic face and burning hazel eyes even as the angel started to explain. Dean shook his head, nodding to the words just slightly, knowing that he was right. Dammit. Because he would have been just as pissed even if Cass had told him.

"Alright, point taken." Dean admitted grudgingly, turning his gaze to sweep out over the headstones as he gathered his thoughts. So he had been Immortal before all of this . . . it made sense, to a degree, matched up with what he had been told. An Immortal only came back upon a violent death and if his soul had been entrapped in Hell due to his deal, then how could he pop back up? He couldn't, not until Castiel had found him and jerked him out. And now the only thing that could kill him was a blade through the neck and Dean wondered if Lilith and her cronies knew about that. "Does Lilith know? About the Immortal thing. . . " Dean clarified, even though he was pretty sure he didn't need to clarify anything for the angel. He usually got in on his own. Like Sam, Cass had a way of reading Dean that the elder Winchester could not explain. He didn't usually have to tell the man what he was thinking or feeling because Castiel already knew.

"They were telling me something about a prophecy, Cass. How I'm the only one that can stop this war . . ." Dean trailed off, turning back to face the angel before stepping closer, hazel eyes meeting blue orbs head on without flinching or backing down. "There are other hunters out there, other things out there. Why me? Why am I the only one that can end this?" And the intensity in his gaze said that he would not take a roundabout answer, that he had to know why he had to bear the weight of the world on his shoulders, literally. Sam was more powerful than him, at least with his demon kick thing, and Duncan was more experienced and there were dozens of others more qualified for the "save the world" gig than he was. But for some reason it was on him and he had to know why.

[Castiel]

Castiel watched Dean as the hunter processed all the new information given to him. While he was still angry, Cas could tell he was starting to calm down. If only Dean knew… knew the whole story of what had happened to him; it would break him. But Castiel knew that more than likely, he would have to be the one to tell Dean about the first seal. But how could he do that? How could he tell a man who had come to trust him for guidance that he had started this?

Castiel shook his head when Dean asked if Lilith knew about his situation, “As far as we know, she doesn’t know you’re Immortal. We believe if she did, she would have already come after you.” Lilith would have wanted the strong hunter out of the way if she knew what he was now. While she still wanted both Winchester men out of the equation, she was not going after them like the angels had expected her to. Something about the brothers had her running scared. Or was it just one Winchester that had her running?

You are the only one who can stop this because you are the one who started it, Cas thought, but held his tongue. He pulled in a deep breath, cool air filling his lungs. “Dean, you are the only one who can stop this because you are strong enough to do so. We need you in this fight and if you back down now, all is lost,” he said, still not wanting to tell Dean the complete truth. It would damage the hunter too badly.