#15.20 coda

[mittensmorgul]

So I've finally managed to start a supernatural rewatch since it ended. I had a really hard time coming back to it knowing it ended like.... that. I'm wondering if you (or anyone who reads this) has any really good fix-it fics to read instead of the finale? I'm planning on watching up to 15x19 (maybe only 15x18 depending) and then just reading a fic as the ending instead, so I'm looking for something that picks up right where it leaves off, and then wraps everything up in the way the finale didn't.

Thanks for all your meta and spn commentary and stuff. You're one of my fave accounts ♥️

oh gosh, hello! And thanks!

I've read a lot of great fix it fics for the finale, and heck i should've made a special tag for them on tumblr, but I think most of the ones I've seen have made it into my episode tag... only there's like 60 pages of posts in there and I'd venture to say that the majority of them aren't fics, but meta, gif sets, art, and like... generalized yelling. All of which may be interesting and useful to you anyway! Even if it's not all fic. :D

I've written several fics myself that fall under the umbrella of Series Fix It, too:

Revenge of the Text (25.5k, rated T because my intent was to make something that COULD have aired, though after posting I realized I could've given more screen time to Sam and Eileen, even though I pretty much give them their happy ending right at the start lol... priorities, after all)

what goes around... (468 words, rated T, short and angsty with a happy ending)

The Famous Final Scene (202 words of pure fix it)

Everything I've written set in canon since the finale is effectively finale fix it, too, even if it doesn't directly address the finale, because the assumption is life just went on, they got Cas back, and without Chuck's power there to beam their reality to our tv screens in our universe, some network exec panicked and aired ~whatever that was~ instead of what actually happened in their lives instead. So we have holiday fluff with For The Best, case fic with lectio in equis, and coming October 6 for the DCBB this year, I'll be posting Heart Shaped Box. And that's just my own fix its. There's soooo many.

Another good place to start is probably the Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On tag on AO3, though ymmv on various different iterations of "fixing it." Like... i have less than zero desire to read any fix it involving them all being dead in heaven. That's not fixing it for me. So mind the tags on each story and find what YOU want to read. Because there's a lot there, and that means something for everyone!

And also, like some of my fic referenced above, post-canon fic that isn't directly ABOUT fixing the finale, but still carries on the original story either like the finale never happened at all, or else handwaves the fixing bit and moves right on with their lives without explaining in detail how everything was fixed-- a lot of those fics won't get tagged with the 15.20 fix it tag, for obvious reasons. Post-canon might be another good search term, to look for, as well.

Good luck with your rewatch! :D

#nice things people say #spiders georg of the tnt loop #i still haven't rewatched the finale... not sure i'll ever be able to... don't know why i'd even want to lololol #spn fanfic #destiel #spn 15.20 coda fic #WELL HECK maybe try that tag? even if there might not be a lot in it because i keep forgetting i made it lolol

[dothwrites]

15.20 coda--at the end of the world

author’s note: while i am still reeling from the finale, this was my way of making some kind of personal peace with it. don’t mistake this for me agreeing with the choices made <3 

---

“I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”--Madeline Miller

---

Castiel opens his eyes. 

All around him is green. A moment later, he hears the soft sound of birds chirping in the background; from further away, the faint sounds of children laughing. The air is ripe with the smell of growth, damp in the air and life underneath his fingers. 

He sits up. The sky is a perfect shade of blue, the kind found only in poet’s and painters imaginations. A few feet away, the shrubs grow, flowers spilling over themselves in their enthusiasm to be born. Everything is a riot of life and color. 

“Cas.” 

Castiel’s heart thumps against his ribs. He knows that voice. 

He whirls around, already knowing who he’ll find. Several feet away, Jack waits, one hand raised in a short wave. 

Castiel finds himself up on his feet, and within two short steps, he’s enfolded Jack in his arms. For a moment, he forgets about everything which came before, and allows himself this sheer comfort. If nothing else remains, then Jack is here. 

Jack hugs him back, twice as fiercely, before they separate. Castiel holds him at arm’s length, trying to find injuries or hurt on him, but there’s nothing. In fact, it’s almost as if...

“Jack,” he says slowly, his arm falling away from Jack’s shoulder, “what happened?” 

Jack smiles, a little lopsided, but still his boy. 

“Well,” he says, gesturing towards a bench, “It’s kind of a long story. 

---

For all that Jack said it was a long story, it ends up being remarkably quick in the telling. Castiel listens, sometimes grieving and sometimes proud, as he hears of how Sam, Dean, and Jack ultimately defeated Chuck. His heart grows in his chest as Jack recounts Dean’s words. 

That’s not who I am. 

A small part of him wishes that he could be there to see it, but he tucks that part of himself away. He said his piece. He relieved the burden which has been pressing down on his shoulders now for years. In his lifetime, it was nothing more than a blip on the map, but those years have made all the difference in the world to him. Finally, he can look back on them now without regrets. 

“And so, I came here,” Jack finally says, shifting a little on the bench. He looks oddly guilty, like the times Castiel would find him sneaking snacks back into his room. “I thought...” 

“What?’ Castiel prompts, after a few moments when it becomes clear that Jack has no interest in speaking. 

“Sam and Dean don’t really need me anymore. I mean, I know that they want me, but the world is bigger now. And the people up here need me too.” 

It’s then that Castiel looks around, scrutinizing his environment more closely. The nagging sense of familiarity hits and then he wonders how he didn’t see it before. His favorite Heaven, caught in an eternal Tuesday afternoon. 

“It’s not right,” Jack says, his forehead wrinkled into an earnest expression of worry. “The people here are stuck. While I was on earth, we all talked about free will, but the people here don’t have it. They’re stuck forever in an endless loop of memories, and it’s all just...empty.” 

Jack looks at Castiel, and Castiel doesn’t see God. He doesn’t see a divine being, or Lucifer’s son, or even an angelic being. He just sees his boy, lost and confused, but still so pure, still wanting to do the right thing, no matter what. 

“Cas?” Jack asks. “Will you help me?” 

---

Rebuilding Heaven is slow work, but time doesn’t really mean anything here. It’s delicate to rebuild the walls separating billions of souls so that nothing collapses. Castiel works alongside Jack, making suggestions as his mind trips along to potential problems. 

Though it’s never said aloud, Castiel knows why Jack is working tirelessly. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, the knowledge sits that Sam and Dean are going to die. One day, they will pass from the earth, and come to Heaven, and on that day, Castiel wants everything to be perfect for them. He wants to show them a true paradise, a place without walls or barriers, a place where emotion is genuine and not just a manufactured memory. Rebuilding Heaven is his last chore, the last of his penance to be performed. 

He does make one stop, however. 

When he walks in the door, Kelly’s head lifts up from the book she’s flipping through. Her smile is a balm to the hurt places inside him, the ones that he likes to pretend don’t exist, because he was happy, yes? That was the whole point of everything, was to be happy. “Hey, Cas,” she greets him, shifting over and patting the couch next to her. “I was wondering when you’d be by.” 

“I’ve been busy,” Cas says, settling down on the cushions. In Heaven, his body is easier than it was on earth, more flexible, and he wonders if that’s because after all these years, he’s finally returned to where he was supposed to belong, or if it’s because he no longer has the shadow of his love pressing down on his shoulders. 

“Jack told me. Rebuilding Heaven? Sounds ambitious.” 

“The old Heaven was...not ideal,” Castiel says. “I thought it was at the beginning: each soul gets a paradise tailor made to them. But then, I realized that human life is meaningless without the connections we form along the way. Each soul, stuck forever in its own loop is...” 

“It’s lonely,” Kelly says, reaching out and squeezing his hand. Castiel returns the gesture, grateful for the connection. Her eyes are kind as she moves closer to him, her shoulder pressing into his. 

“So what happened?” 

---

In their time together, Castiel never told Kelly about Dean, at least not explicitly. But she had a brilliant mind and was able to see the threads of his longing woven into everything he did. Relating the story to her comes easily, and he tells her things which he would never tell Jack. 

“And I was happy,” Castiel says at the end. “I was.” 

“You trying to convince me or yourself?”

“Neither,” Castiel replies, bristling slightly. It was true that he might have been happier--he had performed a willful obfuscation of the original terms--but that doesn’t negate what he felt in that moment. The sheer love, the overwhelming gratitude, the incandescent happiness of being able, one last time, to proclaim to the world Dean Winchester is Saved. 

Everything else is unimportant when viewed through those lenses. 

“Why haven’t you gone to see him?” Kelly was always good at cutting to the heart of the problem. 

“Dean has his life on earth. I have my work here in Heaven. I don’t...” Because, of course, he’s asked himself the same question many times. Why doesn’t he go find Dean and tell him of one last, improbable miracle? 

“Cas, let me tell you: I didn’t know Dean all that well, but I didn’t need to if I wanted to know how he felt about you. It was all over his face.” Kelly turns to face him, suddenly serious. “Cas, you should go to him. At least allow him to speak his side. If he doesn’t feel the same way, then you’ll know. And if he does...” 

Castiel shakes his head. Happiness in the being is what he’s told himself ever since he awoke to find himself in Heaven. Happiness doesn’t come from the having. He will live with himself and find contentment in the works which he does. 

Kelly looks sympathetic, but doesn’t say anything as he walks out. 

There’s work to be done. 

---

Castiel sighs with satisfaction as he walks through Heaven. Slowly, the walls are coming down. Souls are mingling and interacting. There’s joy in the once quiet halls, the giddiness which comes from freedom after too long without. He moves through the different realms, silent as a thought, and goes unnoticed, at least until a gruff voice catches his attention. 

“What the hell are you doing here, boy?” 

A wide grin splits Castiel’s face. Only Bobby Singer would think to call an angel ‘boy’. He walks towards the old hunter, who looks the same now as he did in life, and is surprised when Bobby sweeps him up in a hug which would threaten to crack his ribs, were he human. 

“You did good,” Bobby whispers, his voice thick in Castiel’s ear. “I heard what you and that boy Jack did, and you did real good.” 

It means more than he would have thought, to have Bobby’s approval. After a moment’s pause, he hugs Bobby back. 

When Bobby pulls away, he quickly knuckles his eyes, before clearing his throat. “So, you fixed Heaven on top of everything else? What do you have planned next?” 

Castiel’s shoulders lift in a shrug. “There’s always work to be done maintaining Heaven. We don’t know what, if any, effects the restructuring will bring, so I suppose I will be traveling and making sure that everything is stable.” 

“If that ain’t a load of shit,” Bobby scoffs. “From what I’ve seen, your boy has enough power in his pinky finger to do just about whatever he wants. Stop making excuses and get your feathery ass back down there.” 

Castiel swallows. “It’s not quite as simple as that. Sam and Dean have a chance to live their lives, the way that they would wish for them to be lived. It’s not fair of me to intrude.” 

“Now, if that isn’t the biggest pile of horseshit I’ve ever heard.” Bobby’s mouth twists underneath his beard. “Only one thing keeping you from going back down to see those boys, and it sure as hell ain’t concern for Heaven or some BS notion that they’re better off without you.” Castiel opens his mouth, but Bobby speaks over him. “And don’t tell me that you’re just waiting either. Something I learned a long time ago--you never have as much time as you think you do.” 

Castiel closes his mouth and says nothing. 

---

Bobby is wrong. 

There’s still time. He doesn’t have to go yet. There’s still work to be done in Heaven, souls to be guided, walls to be broken. Jack still needs him. 

There’s still time. 

There’s still time, until there isn’t.

---

Castiel feels it before he knows what’s happening. It’s a rift, a tear, something which ripples throughout the universe and comes to hit him in the chest. He staggers backward, hand clutching at his shirt. 

His first thought is that Heaven is under attack, but a second’s observation tells him that’s not the case. Everything is fine. The fabric of Heaven remains secure, the souls are unbothered. It’s only him that feels the blow. 

With a flutter of wings, Jack appears beside him. His face is a mask of distress, tears welling in his eyes. “Cas,” he cries, clenching his hands into fists at his side. “Cas, it’s--” 

“Dean,” Castiel says, finally understanding the bolt of pain which ripped through him. 

It was too soon. He doesn’t know how much time has passed on earth, but he knows it was too soon. 

It’s always too soon. 

“Cas, what do I... I can heal him. I can go and heal him now. I can save him. I can...” Jack trails off, his feet still pacing in desperate circles. “What do I do?” 

It’s a child’s question, and Castiel has no answer. 

“Free will,” is all he says. “Whatever you do...It’s your decision.” 

---

Castiel feels when Dean Winchester’s soul enters Heaven. He held that soul within his grace, he snatched it away from the filth and flames of Hell. He cradled that soul while he was reassembling Dean’s body, pulling atoms out of air to create skin, flesh, and bone. He would know that soul at the end of everything, and he knows it here, when it settles into the place which was created for him. 

It was as perfect as Castiel could make it; down to the Impala sitting in the Roadhouse’s parking lot. He created every inch of Dean’s Heaven in homage, in apology. 

It wasn’t fair. Dean deserved to live to a ripe old age. He deserved to enjoy the world for which he fought so hard. He should have grown old, should have found peace, should have discovered the foibles and pitfalls of normal, human existence. Dean worked too hard, for too long, and he deserved a kinder, softer fate. Instead, he’s here, and all Castiel can do for him is to craft his Heaven with painstaking care. 

He pauses on the boundaries of Dean’s Heaven. Every fiber of him yearns to go forward, to rejoice in Dean’s presence, to see that beloved face again. He wants it so badly he can almost taste it, leather and gasoline and whiskey mingling together until he’s back in the bunker, listening to the sounds of his family--

Castiel takes a step away from the border. First one, then another. After three steps, it becomes easier. 

Dean has his paradise, and Castiel won’t interfere. 

---

Heaven moves as it always does, timeless and changeless. There is no turn of the earth to mark the passage of time. Instead, it moves like the ocean, rolling waves which are always moving and yet the surface remains the same. Castiel travels through various Heavens, observing the newly liberated souls, and taking his peace from their newfound enjoyment. It eases something within him to see his former home restored, better than it ever was before. 

He’s inspecting a field of sunflowers when the sound of a car door closing surprises him. Immediately, his heart lurches in his chest, dipping down to somewhere around his knees before hurtling upwards to lodge in his throat. He swallows before he turns around. 

Dean Winchester is there. 

Castiel’s heart, always out of his control, performs a quick dance against the confines of his ribs. Dean looks...He looks whole and wonderful, vibrant and alive. The lines around his eyes look as though they’ve been carved through laughter instead of despair. His shoulders sit easier, no longer pressed down with the burden of the entire world. 

Castiel licks his lips. “Hello, Dean,” he finally says, when it becomes obvious that Dean has no intention of making the first move. 

Dean’s lips quirk up in a grin. “Cas,” he says, not moving from where he’s leaning up against the frame of the Impala. “You’re a hard guy to track down.” 

Layers upon layers of subtext are placed within the seemingly simple sentence. Castiel remembers Purgatory as well as anything else, the desperate year of keeping one step ahead of Leviathans while close enough to Dean to protect him if need be. 

“I’m sorry,” Castiel says faintly. “I wasn’t aware anyone was looking.” 

Dean’s face performs a series of interesting maneuvers, dropping and rising and twisting. It finally settles into an expression like stone as he pushes off the car and storms towards him. Castiel waits, caught up in breathless anticipation of the oncoming storm. 

“Look,” Dean growls, reaching out and snagging the lapel of his coat, almost like he wants to ensure that Castiel doesn’t escape. Castiel doesn’t even dream of it; there’s no other place he’d rather be than caught in Dean’s grip. “There was a lot of shit going on at the time, so I didn’t get to say it then, but there’s nothing happening now, so you are going to sit here and listen, all right?”

Castiel nods, but Dean doesn’t seem to notice. “I can’t believe you didn’t...” He runs the hand which isn’t still wrapped up in Castiel’s coat over his face. “You idiot,” he finally breathes. “A couple of dumbasses. You’ve had me, Cas. All along, you’ve had me.” 

Castiel looks up at Dean in sharp surprise. When he meets Dean’s eyes, there’s nothing but the infinite compassion which he fell in love with. “You... You’re this force of nature that came bursting into my life. All this time, you’ve always been there, always helping, and I took that for granted, I know I did. But, god, Cas, I should have told you every day how thankful I was to have you there with us. I should have let you know what a miracle you are. You never gave up on me, not once, not even when I deserved it.” 

Castiel’s breath hitches in his chest as Dean lets go of his coat. Slowly, with a shaking hand, he reaches up to cup Castiel’s cheek. “You never stopped believing. You never stopped trying. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” 

“Dean.” The name bursts out of Castiel’s chest in a harsh breath. Dean’s words are working their way underneath his skin, to the point where his body can’t contain them. 

“Cas.” Dean gently angles his face up so that there’s no escape when he says, “I love you.” 

“I’m sorry,” explodes from Castiel’s chest, the helplessness and grief he felt when he felt Dean’s soul leaving earth erupting in a single quick sob. “Dean, I’m so sorry, I should have been there, I should have done something, I never should have left you alone--” 

“Cas.” Dean’s fingers press into his cheek, not hard, but firmly enough to get his attention. “It sucks, all right? There was so much I wanted...” The corner of his mouth drops. “I was going to get you out, and you, me, and Sam were going to head to the beach. I was going to get you drinking out of a coconut, maybe a Hawaiian shirt. We were going to do Christmas, I was going to take you to a theme park and see if you puked on roller coasters. I wanted...” For a moment, grief so overwhelming that it can’t be touched crosses Dean’s face, but then, with effort, he pushes it away. “There’s so much that I wanted, but it’s done now. And besides, you’ve been busy.” Dean raises his eyebrows. The grin on his face invites Cas to smile as well. “Reforming Heaven?” 

“I wanted...There was so much I did wrong here. I thought if I could make it right, that maybe...” Castiel leans his cheek into Dean’s hand. “I wanted it to be perfect for you. You weren’t supposed to be here yet.” 

“I know. I know. And it’s not okay, but you’re here, all right? Mom’s here, Bobby’s here, Charlie, and Jess, and Kevin, and Ellen and Jo...They’re all here, and thanks to you, I’m going to see them. You did that, Cas.” 

“Jack did most of the work--” Castiel begins, but he’s cut off by the soft press of Dean’s lips against his. 

Sparks burst in his chest as Dean’s hand slides around to the back of his neck to cradle his head. His other arm slides around his waist, and suddenly, Castiel is held by Dean Winchester, by this miracle of a man. Dean’s kisses consume him, until he’s no longer Castiel. Instead, he’s heat, and friction, and more. 

“You and me,” Dean pants against his lips, pulling away just far enough to run his nose along Castiel’s. “We’ve got time now, Cas, we’ve got so much time. I’m going to take you apart, going to show you how much I love you, every single day. I’m going to show you everything.” 

Castiel is drowning in the outpouring of Dean’s devotion. He’s helpless in the riptides. All he can do to save himself is kiss Dean again, tasting salt on their lips from where their tears trace down to their lips. Castiel cries partly for Dean’s missed opportunities and the fact that life is so cruel. But he also cries from happiness. Dean is right. Here, they have all the time they could ever want. There’s time to explore every feeling and desire, time for them to become themselves, without the pressure of the world around them. 

They part. Somehow, Castiel’s hands have found their way onto Dean’s waist. One of his thumbs is braver than the rest of his whole body, as it sneaks underneath Dean’s shirt to touch bare skin. Dean grins at him. 

“Hey, Cas,” he asks, pressing his forehead to Castiel’s. “Do you want to take a drive?” 

Their fingers entwine as they walk towards the Impala. Castiel’s chest feels light, like Dean’s hand is the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground. “I’m still trying to figure out the roads here. It felt like I was driving around for forty years to try and find you.” 

They settle into the Impala, where they’ve been so many times before, but now Castiel can enjoy every squeak of the leather seats. He can revel in the imperfections of the car because of the perfection that’s next to him. Dean Winchester reaches across the seat and takes his hand, as easy as breathing. 

“I can’t wait to show Sam everything,” Dean says, as he guides the Impala back onto a road which Castiel is almost certain wasn’t there when he arrived. “I, uh...Hope it takes him a while to get here. But. Yeah, when he gets here, I can’t wait to show him everything.”

“We’ll see it all together,” Castiel finally says. It’s all he can say, his heart too busy dancing in his chest. 

They have all the time they want.

---

Time slips and passes and stops. In between his time with Dean, Jack, and the rest of the residents of Heaven, and performing maintenance throughout Heaven, Castiel watches the earth. He sees those left behind grow older. Claire and Kaia start a family, Claire finally having set aside the kernel of anger in her heart. Castiel watches Sam and Eileen’s family grow, smiling when Sam finally goes back to law school and gets his degree. He spends the rest of his career fighting for justice for children lost in the system, those who can’t fight for themselves. Saving people, hunting things, indeed. 

Several times, Castiel thinks about going to visit Sam, if only to assuage the grief he can still see the man carrying, but each time he stops. It hurts, but grief is a facet of life. This grief is natural. It comes honestly. It’s not manipulated by a sadistic higher being for a voyeristic pleasure. 

Eileen comes out to the Impala and brings Sam back into the house with gentle touches. Throughout the years, she’s learned how to navigate Sam’s moods, and knows how to bring him back. They lay in bed, foreheads pressed together, Eileen’s body curved into Sam’s. 

“I just,” Sam begins, twisting slightly so Eileen can read his lips, “I just miss him so much sometimes.” 

“I know,” Eileen answers. It’s all she needs to say. 

After a while, Sam gently wraps his fingers around Eileen’s wrist, partly for comfort, partly to grab her attention. “Dean’s baseball game is next weekend. Do we know yet if it’s going to conflict with Beth’s dance rehearsal?” 

“It shouldn’t,” Eileen answers, and with that, the normal routine of their life is reestablished. The grief is always present, but it’s part of the human condition. 

Castiel turns his eyes back to Heaven, where Dean waits for him. Despite it being Heaven, he insists on making repairs to Bobby’s house as well as the Roadhouse, even when Castiel reminds him, for the hundredth time, that if he truly wanted to, he could fix these imperfections with a thought. 

“Sometimes, you just have to do things the hard way,” he answers, through a mouthful of nails. 

Castiel rolls his eyes and goes to help him. 

---

The morning dawns, quiet and gentle. The dawn is silvery-gold as it stretches across the grass leading up to the cabin. In the distance, the birds start singing. Castiel can smell the fresh scents of spring, dew clinging to the grass, the clean, bright potential in the air. His toes stick out from underneath the comforter, but a quick flip of his foot flicks the corner of the blanket back into place. 

A warm, heavy arm winds over his waist. “Babe, it’s too early,” Dean mumbles into the nape of his neck. “Go back to sleep.” 

Castiel strokes over the back of Dean’s hand. The words are tempting, but something has woken him up, and now that it has, he wants to know what it is. He props himself up on his elbows, ignoring the chill of the air as it bites at his bare skin, and concentrates. After a second, he startles. 

“Dean,” he says. 

Though he doesn’t put urgency or fear into his voice, something about his tone makes Dean open his eyes, suddenly alert. Castiel looks at him, and Dean rolls over onto his side. After their time together, they’ve mastered the art of the wordless conversation, much to the chagrin of Charlie, Kevin, and anyone within ten miles of them, at least according to Jo. 

“It’s time?” Dean asks. He rolls closer to Castiel, stealing his warmth, as he trails his fingers over Castiel’s ribs. 

“Yes,” Castiel answers, taking Dean’s hand in his and pressing kisses to each of Dean’s fingertips. “Won’t be long now.” 

Dean’s fingers slide across his cheek before he curls his fingers around the bolt of Castiel’s jaw, pulling him down. Their lips meet in a chaste kiss which still manages to make fireworks explode in the pit of Castiel’s belly. He doesn’t think the thrill of kissing Dean will ever fade. Castiel doesn’t want it to. 

“I should get going,” Dean murmurs, rubbing against the bristles on Castiel’s cheek. “You want to come along?” 

Castiel relaxes back into the mattress, only reluctantly parting from Dean. “No, you go. I’ll be here when you get back.” 

“I know.” Dean slides out of bed, and Castiel takes a moment to appreciate the play of his muscles underneath fair skin. He lets out a small, disappointed noise when Dean slides into a pair of jeans and a jacket, causing Dean to roll his eyes at him over his shoulders. “Yeah, keep it in your pants. Definitely wearing clothes to this particular meeting.” 

“Shame,” Castiel murmurs, waggling his eyebrows. 

“Shameless,” Dean corrects, leaning over the mattress to kiss Castiel once more, short and sweet. “We’ll be back before too long.” Another kiss to Castiel’s forehead, and then Dean murmurs, “I love you,” into his hair. 

Castiel smiles. Much like kissing Dean, hearing those words will never grow old to him. He’ll revel in them, roll in the simple syllables, allow them to sink into him, with the simple truth that Jack tells him, that Charlie tells him, that Kelly tells him, that even Bobby and Ellen and Jo tell him. 

You are valued. You are loved. 

He smiles at Dean Winchester, this impossible, miracle of a man. “I love you too,” he replies. 

Dean out of the bedroom. The door to the cabin opens and closes. Castiel rolls over onto his back and stretches, staring up at the ceiling. 

There’s work to be done today. He’ll need to travel through Heaven, informing the various interested parties that Sam Winchester has arrived. There will be a party tonight at the Roadhouse, a celebration instead of mourning. Then he and Dean will get to show Sam their Heaven, will listen to Sam relate through his years. 

There is so much work to do. 

But they have time. They have all the time they need. 

---

“Life never ends when you are in it.”--Lemony Snicket, The Beatrice Letters

#spn spoilers #destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #deancas #deancas fic #saileen #saileen fic #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #eileen leahy #coda fix #15.20 coda #fix it #fix it fic #because fuck the finale that's why #do not take this fic as agreement with what happened #but this is the only way my brain will accept it #unbeta'd because we die like men in this house #dothwrites

[trenchcoatimpala]

Castiel felt it the second Dean’s last breath left his body. He felt Dean’s soul soaring skyward, he felt all the pain Dean had been in in his last moments, and he felt his own heart crack at the realization that Dean Winchester was dead, for good this time. 

“You should go to him,” Jack said softly, causing Castiel’s eyes to snap open from where they’d been squeezed shut in agony. 

He knew he could see Dean again now that he was dead, he also knew that Dean probably didn’t want to see him, and he knew that he was still going to have to face him one way or another. 

Castiel shook his head. “Not yet, there are plenty of things that need doing here.” 

Jack’s hand landed gently on Castiel’s shoulder. “The longer you wait, the longer you’ll doubt you should see him at all.” 

Castiel blinked at his son in surprise. “Those are wise words.” 

Jack shrugged. “I’m just saying, you miss him, and he misses you.” 

Castiel sighed and nodded slowly. “Alright, I’ll go to him.” 

“Good.” 

Castiel gathered his new wings around him and let them carry him towards Dean. 

He appeared in the middle of a long stretch of road and he could make out the unmistakable shape of a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala making its way towards him. 

Castiel waited patiently for the car to reach him and when it slowed, the rumble of the engine loud in the quiet of Heaven, Castiel’s heart leaped into his throat as Dean stepped from his beloved car. 

“Cas?” Dean asked in disbelief. 

“Hello, Dean.” 

Castiel didn’t know what he expected to happen, but Dean running at him and flinging his arms around his neck was not it. 

“Bobby said... but I didn’t... but you’re here... you’re alive,” Dean muttered into Castiel’s shoulder. 

Castiel brought his arms up to Dean’s back and let himself melt into the hug. “Yes, I’m alive. Jack got me out.” 

Dean pulled away just enough for their eyes to meet. “How long ago?” 

“A week or so. Since he became God.” 

Hurt flashed across Dean’s face. “Why didn’t you come back to Earth?” 

Castiel’s eyes flicked to the ground, unable to meet Dean’s steady green gaze any longer. “I didn’t think you’d want me,” he said quietly. 

“You didn’t think- Cas, of course I wanted you back,” Dean said earnestly, his voice cracking on the last word. 

Castiel dragged his eyes back up to Dean’s. “You did?” 

Dean’s fingers fisted tightly in the fabric of Castiel’s trench coat and suddenly he was being pulled forward into a kiss. Dean’s lips were soft, his mouth felt perfect against Castiel’s, they drew breaths in sync, neither wanting the kiss to end. 

It is justified to say that the feeling pumping through Castiel is heavenly. He is in Heaven -literally and blissfully- in Dean’s arms, in the middle of a road that stretches forever.

“I love you too,” Dean said breathlessly against Castiel’s lips. “I have for years.” 

Castiel stared at Dean, his heart bursting with joy, with happiness, the happiness he’d felt in the moment he’d sacrificed himself for Dean could not hold a candle to the happiness of this moment. 

“Sorry it took me dying for me to say it,” Dean added, embarrassed. 

“Yes about that, I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” 

Dean let out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, me either. But that doesn’t matter,” Dean glanced over to his car and his hand fell into Castiel’s, “what do you say we go for a drive? We have a lot to talk about.” 

Castiel smiled and let his fingers tangle with Dean’s. “That sounds wonderful.” 

tag list, ask to be added or removed: 

@jellydeans @tearsofgrace @anotherdowneyfan1 @cassgetoutofmyass0907 @angie-clover271218 @nines-in-the-tardis

#here #have some happiness #to make up for all the sad #i've been giving you guys #spn #supernatural #destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #heaven #15.20 coda #my writing #trenchcoatimpala writes

[samwellwinchesterthebrave]

So I wrote something about the finale because my writer and Destiel heart was dissatisfied.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27645520

#sam writes fic #supernatural #supernatural spoilers #15.20 coda #destiel

[caranfindel]

Take these broken wings and learn to fly (15.20 coda)

het, but Wincest-compatible | about 2300 words | PG-13 for language | characters: sam winchester, sam’s blurry wife |

Julia has been widowed (God, what an awful word, widowed) for three years when she meets Sam. It’s a work-based friendship at first. She’s kind of lonely and sad, he’s kind of lonely and sad, and they gravitate toward each other. And then one evening they’re at a bar, the last ones left from an after-work happy hour, both of them drinking more than they should, and she thinks he’s kind and thoughtful and smart and he may be 10 years older than me but he’s still hot as hell and I enjoy being with him and I look forward to seeing him and maybe I should just… and she kisses him. He’s shocked; shocked enough to confirm that he wasn’t just hanging around hoping to make it out of the friendzone. And then he’s holding her face in his hands and he’s kissing her too.

It’s good. They’re good together. It’s not the earth-shattering, all-encompassing romance she had with Shaun. Julia knows she’ll never have anything like that again. Most people don’t even get one soulmate in their lives; no one gets two. And she knows Sam doesn’t have that same desperate love that Shaun had for her; she knows she’ll never have his whole heart. (She knows the woman he intended to marry was killed in a fire, she knows another woman he loved went back to her ex. She doesn’t know which of these women still owns that last piece of Sam’s heart.) But she loves Sam, and he loves her, and they get married.

(The sex is amazing. Sometimes he’s gentle, almost reverent, as if he’s afraid he’ll break her, and other times he’s fierce and passionate and almost tries to break her, and she loves both ends of the spectrum.)

She suggests they melt down her old wedding band to make a new one. It was an heirloom from her grandmother, a plain wide band of yellow gold that she loves, that she thought she’d wear for the rest of her life. But Shaun is the one who put it on her finger the first time. It doesn’t seem right to ask Sam to accept it now. A new band from the old gold seems like a good compromise. No, Sam says, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I know a way we can make it ours. He has the inside of the band engraved with the same symbol he wears tattooed over his heart, and makes her promise to never take it off. Bad luck, he says.

He’s such a contradiction. Scary smart, but as superstitious as an Appalachian grandmother. Calm and unflappable, but with a weirdly hyperactive startle reflex. Kind and empathetic, but capable of extreme violence when pushed to his limits (seriously, don’t walk your drunk ass up to Sam Winchester’s wife and lay hands on her, and don’t get mouthy when she tells you to back off) and just really, frighteningly skilled at that violence.

(A little frightening and also very sexy. Julia’s always had a thing for the hero type.)

They both have nightmares. One night Julia watches Shaun’s face melting under his gear and wakes with a cry of horror. Sam holds her as she tearfully describes living on the knife edge of constant fear that comes with loving someone whose job is literally running into burning buildings. I know, he says, over and over, even though he can’t possibly know. The irony of their first loves both dying in flames is not lost on her, but it’s not like his college girlfriend was a firefighter. It’s not like he watched her go to work every day and prayed she’d make it home alive.

Julia’s pregnancy is a wonderful surprise. She and Shaun had tried for over a year before she was widowed, and she just didn’t count on it happening with Sam. They agree not to name the baby after anyone they’ve lost. Let’s not name him after our pain, she says, and Sam is okay with that. (Or he isn’t. But ever since she showed him the positive pregnancy test, she’s known she could ask him for anything. She’s known he would rip out his heart and serve it on a platter if she asked for it.)

But they haven’t decided on a name yet when her water breaks four weeks early. When their perfect baby boy is born at 12:10 a.m., the nurse announces the date and time and Sam looks up at her in shock and blinks away happy tears and says it’s the 24th. It’s my brother’s birthday. Julia is flying high on endorphins; she loves this baby and she loves this man and she even loves his dead brother she never got to meet, and she says it’s got to be a sign; let’s name him Dean.

She takes off her wedding ring, just this once, to have Dean’s birthdate engraved on the inside. Sam does the same with his own ring. He insists they go to a jeweler who will engrave while they wait, rather than leaving the rings there. She waves a hand at her lumpy postpartum body. You afraid someone’s gonna make a move on all this if you don’t keep a ring on it?

He laughs at her and says you’re onto me, even though he’s the one who needs to be locked away, still with that long lean runner’s body and the amazing shoulders and the goddamn dimples. I just don’t like us being without them, he says. He is a sweet, sentimental fool and she adores him. He bends down to kiss her, carefully maneuvering the baby he’s wearing in a sling, and Julia looks at this man and this baby and this life she didn’t think she was get to have and knows she’s happier than she has any right to be. And she’s relieved when Sam slips the ring back onto her finger, this ring imbued with the men she loves, so maybe he’s not the only sentimental fool.

(One thing she loves about Sam is that he understands why she feels guilty that Shaun didn’t get to share this life with her.)

In July they light a little candle for Dean’s six-month birthday. When Julia wakes the next morning, Sam’s side of the bed is empty and cold. She finds him cuddling their sleeping baby in the living room. I got up to give him a bottle, Sam says. I guess I just fell asleep out here. His red-rimmed eyes and empty coffee mug suggest he didn’t actually sleep at all, but, well. They’re both battling their own private demons. If a night cradling the baby gives Sam some peace for whatever reason, she’s glad of it.

Sam’s fierce love for their child takes her by surprise. If Julia has 90% of his heart, his son has 110%. He parents with a vengeance, is the only way she can think of to describe it. Like he’s making up for something. She doesn’t feel slighted, but it’s impossible to ignore that ever since Dean was born, Sam’s prime objective has been to make sure the boy is happy and safe. Everything else comes second.

(When she notices Sam has been carefully marking his tattoo symbol onto Dean’s clothing, hidden near seams and always in a color that almost matches the fabric, she decides not to say anything. He gets a little funny about his superstitions sometimes.)

Sam desperately wants Dean to have a sibling, and they try for another one, but it doesn’t happen. Julia reminds him that they’re lucky to have even one child. That having a sibling is not a lifetime guarantee of companionship and love. She should know, after all, since Stephanie cut her off after she married that asshole Scientologist and decided she couldn’t have a relationship with anyone who wasn’t also in their stupid cult.

Dean has plenty of friends and tons of activities, which Sam encourages with an almost religious fervor, but he never pulls away from his parents. They have so much in common, Sam and his son. Instead of rebelling as a teenager, Dean seems to grow even closer to his father. They spend hours together, paging through the ancient books in Sam’s study (she hates them, they smell musty and make her sneeze) or driving in the old Chevrolet. They even travel together sometimes, visiting those friends of Sam’s that live up north somewhere. Julia met them at the wedding and they were perfectly nice, thrilled to death that she and Sam had found each other. But she always feels like an outsider when they’re around, like they’re part of something she’ll never understand. So much history, with Sam and the brother she never got to meet. They absolutely dote on Dean though, and he seems to love them too, so the boys’ trip to Sioux Falls becomes an annual event.

(Dean is 14 years old when he comes home from one of these trips with his own version of the tattoo.)

When Julia is diagnosed with cancer, Dean is 16 years old. Sam does his best to ensure life goes on as normal for their son but somehow never neglects Julia’s needs. He throws himself into research and is always on top of the latest treatment, always at her elbow with the top internet-recommended remedy for her side effects, making sure both she and Dean have everything they want and need, all the attention and support they can tolerate. She doesn’t know when, or if, Sam actually sleeps. When she feels up for it, he arranges experiences for the three of them. A week lying on the beach, a weekend in New York City, a night in the mountains looking at the stars. When we look back on this time, he says, I don’t want us to only remember how much it sucked. I want us all to have good memories too.

(She doesn’t know why he’s concerned about her memories. There’s a good chance she won’t have much time to enjoy them. But it’s good for Dean. She doesn’t want this to ruin Dean’s childhood.)

Sam insists Dean go away to college as planned. Julia agrees, although she’s kind of surprised he’s willing to let the boy out of his sight. Aren’t you going to miss him? she asks.

So much, he answers. But this isn’t about me, and what I need. It’s about him. They drive Dean to school in the ancient Chevrolet. Supposedly because the trunk has room for all of his stuff, but Julia is pretty sure it’s just one last sentimental road trip in the old thing before Sam retires it. When they pick Dean up at the end of the school year, it’s in her SUV. Dean promises his father, more than once, that he’ll restore the Chevy someday.

Five years after Julia’s diagnosis, she’s sitting in the doctor’s office learning that her last remission was her last remission. There are no more options. She has months, not years. Sam clutches her hand and nods, once, as if to say I should have known this would happen; I should have expected something like this. Then he takes her home.

It’s a blessing in a way, he says late that night, after a little too much to drink. Knowing what’s coming. Having time to say goodbye. You don’t always get that. And yes, she knows this as well as anybody does.

Sam has always been supportive of her choice not to contact Stephanie, but one day he says Jules, I promise I’ll never bring it up again. It’s just that I don’t want you to have any regrets. I don’t want you miss the opportunity to say things that you’ll wish you’d said. Julia isn’t sure Steph will speak to her. She’s not even sure she’ll have the same phone number — they haven’t spoken since Dad’s funeral, a year after she was widowed — but she makes the call. And Steph answers. And cries. And comes to visit, where she hugs and cries some more. Sam watches it all with a sad smile for a while, then disappears into the garage to sit in the old Chevy.

When Julia takes her last conscious breaths, Dean is holding one hand and Sam is holding the other. She squeezes her son’s hand and thinks I love you, dear boy, and I’m sorry I have to leave you. She squeezes her husband’s hand and thinks thank you for giving me this, thank you for taking care of me, thank you for loving me and letting me love you. Then she closes her eyes and lets the soft, warm darkness take over.

And then. Then she wakes to a cool breeze and the sound of chirping birds. She’s standing at a lake she recognizes. It’s Shaun’s favorite fishing spot. And Shaun is there, waiting for her. And everything is okay.

Sam does show up eventually. Julia’s sitting on the porch of the cabin with Shaun, enjoying the perpetual nice day (sometimes a spring morning, sometimes a fall afternoon, but always nice) when she hears the familiar rumble. It cant be, she thinks. It can’t be that old car. But it is.

I’m glad you found someone with good taste in cars, Shaun says, as Sam unfolds himself from the driver’s seat. He looks exactly as he did the day she met him; no glasses, only a little grey at his temples. Still tall and strong and beautiful. She runs to meet him and embraces him as Shaun watches from the porch.

You found Shaun, Sam says. I’m so happy for you, Jules. I really am. He doesn’t seem to have any intention of joining her (their) Heaven permanently, but he doesn’t seem to have anyone else with him either. Where is the dead girlfriend? How is this fair?

They talk about Dean, and Julia’s heart swells with pride over her strong, smart, kind, brave son. He’s like you, she says. He’s just like you.

Sam shrugs. He’s a Winchester.

But what about you? she says. You’re not — you’re not alone here, are you?

Nah, he says. I’m good. I promise.

(Eventually Julia meets the first Dean, and she understands.)

===

I know a lot of people have mocked Sam's blurry wife, but I actually have grown to love the concept. Because it means she can be anything we want her to be. And yeah, initially I liked the idea of her being Dr. Cara, or Eileen. But now I don't think that would happen. I think Sam would have to start fresh to have that kind of relationship. And I also like the idea of Sam's wife having her own soulmate somewhere, waiting for her, so she's not a huge part of Sam and Dean's shared Heaven. I mean, they're gonna visit, obviously. And then they'll go home to their soulmates.

The title is from "Blackbird" by the Beatles.

#spn #15.20 #my fic #episode coda #sam winchester

[lulu-zodiac]

Destiel Coda 15.20

The first and last memories Dean has of Cas are the same: a strong, tight grip burning into Dean’s shoulder like sun. 

Dean remembers staring uncomprehendingly at the raised welts it had left after he crawled out of the pit all those years ago; remembers the fear and wonder he’d felt as he traced the imprint of Cas’s hand. Of course, he hadn’t known it was Cas then. By the time he knew, the mark was already softening, melting into the rest of his skin, becoming part of him. 

He wishes Cas had left a mark on him the last time he touched him, not just blood on fabric, but something on his skin, etched onto him. A piece of him left that Dean could cling to. Dean remembers staring uncomprehendingly at the bloodied handprint on his jacket; remembers feeling no wonder, just fear. 

After Cas has gone, he often places his hand over the space there. It becomes a habit he stops noticing, a way of soothing himself when nothing else can, when he’s lost, afraid of his own reflection as though he can see the memories etched into his skin. There’s nothing there now, when he looks, just pores that Cas once put back together.

Dying hurts, but there’s a relief to it too, like letting out an exhale you’ve been holding in for too long. 

Dean’s first impression of heaven is that it is cold, and lonely. The starry sky is beautiful, but it makes him feel empty. He wonders if Cas felt the same, all those eons he spent here before he knew Dean. The thought makes Dean’s throat ache, his eyes burn until the night sky blurs. He rubs a hand subconsciously over his shoulder, holds it like he’s giving himself a one-armed hug. He closes his eyes against the constellations, remembers. 

Time passes. And then – something about the intensity of the silence lessens, like he isn’t the only one breathing it anymore.  

The touch that presses over his hand is warm and real, nothing like heaven. A strong, rough palm covering Dean’s grip on his shoulder, burning like sun.

Dean’s eyes snap open, air catches painfully in his lungs.

“Hello, Dean.”

Everything crumbles. He would know that voice, that touch anywhere. He turns, and the blue of Cas’s eyes makes the colours of heaven irrelevant.

“Cas,” he chokes out, “Cas.” He wants to seize Cas, crush him in a hug and never let go, tell him all the things he never got to over and over again, but he can only stare. His universe tilts on its axis, the heat of Cas’s hand the only thing grounding him to here, now.

“I’m here, Dean,” Cas says, low and gravelly, familiar in a way that makes Dean’s soul ache. Cas’s gaze holds Dean’s as securely as his hand holds Dean’s on his shoulder, quiet, steady, waiting. God, how he’s waited. Dean feels the weight of it welling up in his chest like a dam has burst, feels the lump in his throat sear and his eyes burn.  

“Cas, I never got to say – the things I wanted to, the things I should have said,” Dean can hear the way the words shake as he speaks, scared of them even now, even now they’re both dead. He swallows, tries to focus on Cas, because he matters so much more than fear. “I shouldn’t have made you wait, Cas, I made you wait so long, and I never said anything.”

“I never needed any more of you than exactly what you were, Dean,” Cas says, quiet, and Dean can see the love in his gaze, knows he means it utterly and completely. The thought makes the wetness that’s stinging his gaze spill down his cheeks. He lets it fall.

“But,” he takes a deep breath, tries to steady himself, “I wanted to give you more, Cas, I always wanted to – I just didn’t think – I always thought it was impossible, I always told myself you didn’t feel the way you do.” Dean swallows, “Because how could you? You’re this incredible angelic being and I’m – me, goddamn it.”

“I know who you are,” Cas says, warmly, and Dean knows that he does, knows that Cas understands him better than anyone else ever could. Knows that Cas put him back together, pore by pore, freckle by freckle, that Cas knows the pattern of his ribs and the colour of his soul. The thought of being known so completely and so intimately had terrified him once, but he finds it comforts him now, under the vast canopy of stars.

“Then you’ll know that the reason I didn’t say anything when you – when you told me, before you –” Dean has to take a moment, swallow again, because he’s never talked about it out loud, has never been able to all these years. He focuses on the combined pressure of their hands on his shoulder, steadies himself, “Before you left – it wasn’t because I didn’t have anything to say, Cas,” Dean breathes out, “Goddamn it, I had so much to say. I still do.”

“Then say it,” Cas is looking at him, eyes earnest, so blue. Dean thinks he catches a glimmer of hope in them, so beautiful it makes his soul ache.

“Cas,” Dean shakes his head, overwhelmed by the same fear and wonder that had coursed through him the first time he looked at that handprint on his shoulder, “I love you.”

Cas’s eyes are no match for the skies of heaven. “Dean.”

“I love you, Cas,” Dean says, because it’s wonderful to say it, better than breathing. “God, I love you.” He reaches up with his free hand and touches Cas’s jaw. Cas looks at him like he’s looking at everything in the whole universe all at once, and then they’re kissing and there's no fear, just wonder. Dizzying, pure elation. Like breathing after years underwater, like the feel of the sun on skin after a lifetime of night. Cas’s mouth is heat and oblivion. His hand grips Dean’s, both of them covering the space on his shoulder that once bore Cas’s angelic imprint. Dean can feel the warmth of their hands together, the heat of Cas’s skin over the space that has always been his.

Dean thinks, as they kiss under the ancient constellations, it doesn’t need a mark anymore. Not now, not after all these years. They both know the truth.

#this was meant to be a quick 400 word fix-it but instead you have this #sorry i'm incapable of being concise #destiel #destiel coda #destiel coda 15.20 #destiel is canon #destiel fanfic #castiel #dean winchester #misha collins #jensen ackles #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fandom #spn family #supernatural finale #spn s15 #destiel is real #deancas #dean and cas #dean x castiel #fanfiction #my writing

[psyleedee]

Miracle || Dean/Castiel || 15.20 Carry On Coda.

Note: in this AU, Dean and Castiel share their Heaven, and a time skip of almost nine years has been implied.

Wet.

Dean's face is wet.

Something is poking at his jaw, wet and sticky and insistent.

"Cas, cut it out," he mumbles, his voice soaked with sleep, and he curls into his side, smiling to himself when he feels the familiar warmth of Cas's body next to him under the covers. He swings a leg over Castiel's thigh and slides his hands around the angel's waist, pulling him in closer, expecting Castiel to give up and stop smothering him with kisses, but the wetness persists.

"Cas, s'not funny," he mumbles again, trying to lift his eyelids and see Cas for himself, but then Cas speaks.

"I'm not doing anything," he groans, and snuggles closer into Dean's side.

Wait a minute.

If Castiel is speaking, and the wetness at Dean's face still lingers...

Dean's eyes snap open wide, and a wet, rumbling laugh punches out of his throat as he stares at the sight in front of him.

Miracle.

"God, is that really you, boy?" Dean asks, as if to himself, and Miracle whimpers, hopping into Dean's lap, snuggling against Dean's bare chest. Dean clutches the furry, little guy tight against his chest, dropping a soft kiss to his head.

The sound and movement seems to have awoken Cas, who groans, rubs his eyes and then pushes himself up on the bed, but the moment his eyes open—

"What?" he asks, half incredulous, half confused, as he glances between the dog and Dean. Dean laughs, and buries his face in Miracle's fur.

"I can't believe it's been so long, buddy. I missed you, I missed you so much," he whispers into Miracle's fur, while the dog simply sits idle in Dean's lap, licking at Dean's cheek.

"Dean...?"

At last, Dean turns to Cas.

"Cas, this is Miracle."

And there it is. Castiel's signature squinty-eye look.

"I'm sorry... I'm not following...?" he asks, in his husky morning voice, still drooping with sleep and warmth, and Dean pulls away from Miracle.

"Y'know Cas, after you died, after the empty took you, and uh, before the whole showdown with Chuck, I found this cute little guy all alone. And somehow, out of everything that was going to shit, the sight of him made me happy. So I took him in. He's my little Miracle."

Castiel is silent for a few minutes, before he drops his head against Dean's shoulder, pressing their bare arms together and runs a hand through Miracle's fur.

"I suppose I must thank him then."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm, for making you happy."

Heat unfurls across Dean's face, and he chuckles, a grin breaking out on his lips as he turns to Castiel, diving down to steal a soft peck off the angel's lips. Castiel grins, leaning into Dean's arms as he continues to brush Miracle's fur. Miracle, on the other hand, lets out a loud awoo, and licks Castiel smack in the centre of his face.

Dean laughs, feeling warmth and content floating through his veins as he watches Castiel scratch Miracle's fur.

"Sammy take good care of you?" Dean asks, patting Miracle's head.

Miracle barks.

"Yeah, bet he didn't feed you bacon grease like I used to though. Don't worry, you're in Heaven sweetheart, you can have all the bacon grease you want."

Miracle barks once again, and the sound of Castiel's laughter echoes through the room.

#destiel #castiel #dean winchester #supernatural #casdean #love #deancas #destiel fanfiction #destiel shippers #destiel fluff #15.20 #spn 15.20 #15.20 carry on #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural coda #destiel coda #coda fic #fix-it fic #post-canon supernatural #fluff #supernatural fluff

[writinginthesecrettrees]

Surely Heaven Waits

When the werewolf charged him, Sam wanted to miss, more than he’d wanted almost anything else in his life.

He didn’t.

Perfect shot, in the heart, and the wolf went down and didn’t get back up, and Sam was able to wrap the human body in linen and set it up on a pyre. Just like always. Just like Dean.

“Dean would never let me hear the end of it, if that’s how I went,” he tells Miracle when he gets back to the car, and starts to drive.

They go aimlessly, stopping to stretch their legs, let Miracle do his business, get food when they need it and sleep when Sam must, and Sam avoids all roads leading to Kansas. Can’t go back to the empty bunker.

He heads to hunts when calls come in on Dean’s other other phone and he doesn’t miss his shots. Doesn’t let his reflexes lag. Doesn’t get dead, because Miracle’s waiting in the car and Dean wants him to keep living. 

Every day hurts.

He saves a woman who loves dogs and tall men with sad eyes, sticks around long enough to learn she’s a professor at a local state college, sticks around longer and stops taking hunts because suddenly he’s finishing up a couple credits and has a degree, has a life, has a teaching credential and a wife and every day when he wakes up he has to remind himself that this is what Dean wanted for him.

She wants to name their son “Dean” after the brother he still cries for, and Sam loves her for it.

Miracle gets old under toddler hands pulling at his fur. And somewhere in teaching little Dean how to ride a bike and the ABCs, in comforting him when Miracle goes to sleep for the last time, in training him on how to stay safe from the monsters and ghosts and demons still in the world (“don’t be a hunter, Dean... but be safe, and smart, and watch out for hex bags,”) Sam learns how to smile again. 

But it’s never whole until his son says “Dad, it’s okay. You can go now,” and Sam closes his eyes. 

And opens them to Heaven, and Dean.

#spn 15.20 #episode coda #sam winchester #spn fanfic #spn spoilers #dontspoilthefinalhunt #don't spoil the final hunt

[hamburgergod]

i’m ZOOMING to my word doc rn

edit: it’s up! it’s on tumblr and on AO3 

#spn spoilers #spn #15.20 #i haven't had a fix-it coda so readily made in my head in so long WATCH THIS SPACE

[areiton]

living, after death - supernatural coda

Spoilers for 15.20 

~*~ 

When you open your eyes, there's something familiar about the place you've never seen. 

You know the shape of the squat square building and the curve of the road, even if it's never been beautiful like this. 

Your father is there, the one who loved you best and raised you right when John couldn't, and he sits next to you and drinks a beer that tastes like the one you had when you were fifteen and Bobby handed you a cold bottle after a Rugaru fight. 

~*~ 

You drive because this is what you know: how to fight and when to run. 

There's nothing to fight here, and Bobby is here, and you love him--but Sammy isn't and that aches in your belly, a gaping hole that only Sam ever filled and you drive, until there's that noise, familiar and quiet, like rushing wings and burnt ozone and you hear, quiet and familiar, "Hello, Dean." 

~*~ 

You drag him into a hug and he fits against you the way that he always has--a perfect puzzle piece slotting into place--and you get your fingers in his hair amd clenched on that fucking trenchcoat and you say, rough and sincere, "You can have me, Cas. You always had me." 

His smile might be the prettiest thing in heaven you've ever seen. 

~*~ 

You live. 

It's strange and slow, a sticky molasses thing and doesn't fit right but you do it anyway, not real sure you can do anything else. 

It's 

Cas smiling sleepy in your bed

It's 

Your mother holding you tight tears soaking your shirt 

It's 

Sunsets over the open road and Baby purring and Cas asleep on your shoulder

It's 

Dozing in the sunlight while Castiel digs a garden

It's 

Syrup sweet nights with his weight braced over you,  moving in you, so full of love you are bursting. 

It's 

Life. The one you didn't have. It's living, after death. 

~*~ 

It still aches. That place where Sammy should be and isn't. It doesn't fade, a wound that throbs with every breath and laugh and word. 

Castiel doesn't say anything, when you go quiet and drive, just holds your hand and waits with you. 

~*~ 

And then the wait is over, and he's there, across from you on a bridge. You stare at him, and you haven't cried since you died, not even when Castiel found you, but you do now.  

Castiel waits patient and your brother steps close and that aching hole in you eases, a pain you don't know how to live without suddenly gone, and you smile. 

~*~ 

You live. 

#arei writes fic #supernatural #spn #spn fic #destiel #coda #15.20 spoilers #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester

[stevesherdaddy]

I’m absolutely begging anyone to draw Cas in this after the way he’s been treated 🙏

#spn #spn 15.20 #spn 15x20 #cas #castiel #destiel is canon #destiel #deancas #dean winchester #spn art #spn fanart #fanart #spn fanfiction #fic #spn fic #spn finale #fix it fic #spn coda #dean #supernatural finale #supernatural art #supernatural #spn family #spn fandom #sam winchester #jack kline #eileen leahy #sam x eileen

[mittensmorgul]

What's the most random tv show/media you've ever written fanfic for? I had a phase years ago when I was younger where I was into the Little House on the Prairie tv show, and while I didn't consider it "fanfic" at the time, I liked writing my own "episodes" for it and a few other shows I was into at the time (they were very general, PG rated stories). I knew they were obscure shows and no one would read them, but to this day when I get a fanfic idea, it won't leave me alone until I write it:P

heck... i mean, technically i've really only written fic for spn. i never wrote fanfic for other media before, which is weird considering how old i was when i started lol :'D

but i have written some crossover fics with a couple other things...

In Jeopardy! is the last installment I wrote for the Everything is Subtext 'verse, even though someday maybe there'll be more. Canon case fic-ish, Cas goes on Jeopardy and wins a lot of money :') But... the Jeopardy stuff is all verified authentic to how it works in our universe too (or did when i was on the show back in 2010 lol)

Around the World in 24 Days is the last installment I wrote for the Tumblr Anonymous 'verse, again even if I might someday write more for it. AU Cas, Dean, and friends participate in an around the world race a la the show The Amazing Race. Written during a time when so many reality competition shows were getting fanfic treatment, and I was disappointed nobody else would write this one for me :'D (includes the tag "blatant misuse of an IKEA" lol)

Until I Know This Sure Uncertainty, I'll Entertain The Offered Fallacy 6 way body swap! Canon case fic, but also very very loosely inspired by the Comedy of Errors. but SIX WAY BODY SWAP!

Hurry Up And Wait canon case fic with all the LotR references

Ultraviolet human!impala case fic that's also secretly my love letter to U2's Achtung Baby...

The Terminal Job canon case fic so titled because it's just ~a tiny bit Leverage-y, but not really. but it sort of inspired the feel of the fic.

Cakepocalypse! canon case fic (yes REALLY I SWEAR) that's also a baker Dean/tv producer Cas au (this will make sense as you read it, because it's also 13.23 coda fic...). Essentially a Nailed It! au.

Baby X-File written for GISH 2022, Item 4: “Fanfic through the Ages”: Write a special crossover fanfic of a character from a 1990s show, book, or video game and a character from a 2000s show, book, or game meeting in a different 2010s universe. I sent TFW to meet Mulder and Scully. :'D

one working part 15.19/15.20 fix it fic, told like It's A Wonderful Life.

I can't help thinking there's more, but I think that's enough to go on for now lol.

I mean, all of these are still firmly spn/destiel fic because really that's all the fic I've ever written. Before fic, I only wrote original fiction. Until I was in my late 30's. Which again, apparently isn't the usual fic author trajectory of "i used to write stories based on my childhood cartoons" or whatever. I've been writing since I was a kid, sure, but I just... never was inspired to write fanfic of anything until Dean and Cas forced my hand :')

#i guess i should probably put this in my fic tags huh... #spn fanfic #destiel #crossover fic #which is as close as i've been to writing anything other than straight-up spn/destiel fic

[julianflora]

Heaven is good memories

After 15.20 Dean is in heaven. Heaven can only give him memories, good ones at that. He's trying to change the restriction to simulate a conversation with Cas. 

Read it here. -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646514

I haven’t actually watched 15.20 yet, but I got spoiled for 15.18 since Destiel was trending on all my radars, so yeah spoiling myself for 15.20 is all on me.

I haven’t written anything fictional for about a decade. It’s kinda funny that it should be Destiel that brings me back to it. I wasn’t sure about posting it, but I figured it might make people a little happier with the ending?

#destiel #deancas #supernatural #slashfic #fix-it fic #supernatural 15.20 coda

[jedi-winchester]

My current head canon is that Sam brought Dean’s body home to the bunker. He washed the blood and grime away, dressed him in a Led Zeppelin T-shirt and his favorite flannel. Then Sam slowly trudged down the hall to his bedroom and pulled the old beat up trunk from under his bed. He removed two items, the brochure from the retirement village and the amulet.

The amulet was placed around Dean’s neck.

The brochure was used to light the pyre.

#supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #15.20 #coda #carry on

[onetether]

Doesn’t Matter

Wrote a little coda to 15x20, really it’s just me wanting hopeful futures for Sam and Dean, and a good ending for Cas and Eileen. 

“You’re staying in the bunker? No white picket fence, Sammy?”

Sam glares at Dean.

“Eileen and I talked about it….but the truth is we’re hunters. We can have the apple pie life, just, our version of it.”

Dean raises an eyebrow.

Sam shakes his head at him, glare collapsing into a grin. “We’re going to start up the hunter network again, train the next generation. Make them better, more efficient, teach the kids how to balance hunting and school, like Krissy and her friends. Make proper use of the bunker.”

Dean smiles at his brother, finally accepting the leader role he was always meant to fill. “Leave a legacy behind. So, when I call, should I call you Chief?”

Sam rolls his eyes at him, the playful younger brother still there, despite all the years. “Eileen thinks we can do it…”

“And you?”

“I know we can, but I’m going to miss doing this with you. Saving people, hunting things-”

“The family business.” Dean smirks, “It’s still the family business, Sammy.” He turns and nods at Eileen’s direction. She’s standing at the entrance of the bunker, signing excitedly at Cas.

Sam’s lip’s twitch, but then turns serious. “You’re not going to disappear off the face of the Earth right? Christmas is just around the corner, and Eillen will kill me if you don’t show up...and I’ll miss you.”

Dean pretended to ponder for a moment, but in reality he knew that he couldn’t never not see Sam again. “As long as you don’t put some grubby old hunter in my room and keep more than rabbit food in the kitchen, we’ll be there. Come ‘ere Sammy.”

He claps his brother on the back, hugging him tightly and takes a breath, letting the hug go longer than normal as he remembers the crazy ride that ends at this moment. And then, Dean Winchester lets go.

Pulling away from their embrace, Sam says,“Eileen already told me she wouldn’t stay unless I kept the junk food in stock,” warmth filtering into his voice.

“She could do so much better than the salad guy,” Dean replies, chuckling. He digs around in his jacket pocket for the keys to Baby. “Take care of Miracle while we’re gone?”

Sam nods, “Yeah, I think he likes Eileen and Cas more than us though.”

Having located the keys, Dean looks behind him at the Impala, waiting for him. “Well, I’ll text you wherever we stop.” 

“You mean you’ll call, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Sam grins at Dean, and turns around to walk back toward the bunker. To Eileen, and a hunter network. To his new chapter.

Dean turns around too, and makes his way to Baby. He plops himself into the driver seat, and looks into the backseat where two duffel bags rest. Grinning, he puts the keys in, Baby starting up with her familiar growl. “Hey girl, ready for an adventure?”

The passenger door opens, and a trenchcoat-wearing nerdy little angel seats himself next to Dean.

“Technically, I have no gender.”

He looks over to Cas, the smile on his face stretching so wide that his cheeks began to hurt.

“Eileen said to send postcards,” Cas says, his voice quiet and soft. “Why would she want a card from a post? It’s an inanimate object.”

Dean opens his mouth to reply, and then sees the twinkle in Cas’s eye. “Okay, smartass,” he says instead, rolling his eyes. A smile appears slowly on Cas’s face, brighter than anything Dean has ever seen, so naturally, he picks up Cas’s hand and brings it to his lips.

Cas’s eyes go from mischievous to fond, so full of love that Dean still, after three months of this, feels overwhelmed by it.

“So, where to?”

Dean looks back at the road, placing his free hand on the wheel.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says. Dean feels, more than sees Cas tilt his head in confusion.

“Doesn’t matter?”

Dean looks at Cas, into his ever blue eyes and feels freer and lighter than he ever has. He let go of his brother for the first time in his life. They would see each other again, on holidays and birthdays but they were headed to wildly different futures, and Dean’s was sitting right next to him.

“Yep. Cause home’s right next to me(Cas squeezes his hand at this, and Dean’s heart flutters). So as long as I have you, Baby, and sometimes Sam, I’m good.”

A beat of silence.

“And maybe, home will also be a Roadhouse 2.0 one day.”

“I’d like that,” Cas says.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

The pair face forward, and Dean presses down on the gas.

#spn finale #supernatural season 15 #spn 15x20 #spn 15.20 #destiel coda #destiel fic #spn 15x20 coda #deancas #casdean #saileen #happy endings #that finale was absolute shit #also #bringing back the Jerk and Bitch banter cause it was the best and I can't believe they didn't use it in the finale #anyways #enjoy #onetether shitposts #my writing #destiel

[bijoharvelle]

season 15 codas/fix-its

most of these are brief ficlets contained on tumblr (other than miracles happen) all of them are destiel, aside from the 15.19 midam ficlet, which does contain a shade of destiel, if you squint. thanks for reading!

15.18 coda ficlet - cas comes back to dean 

15.18 coda - what didn’t happen, and then what did

15.19 coda - dean carves cas’s name in the table 

“grace like rain” - cas talks to jack through the rain

“miracles happen” - dean takes miracle to a local vet

15.19 midam fix-it (sort of) - michael is in the plan. the aftermath

15.20 fix-it/coda - cas meets dean in heaven 

15.20 inset - dean prays to cas

#destiel #deancas #destiel ficlet #deancas ficlet #midam #supernatural s15 #spn s15 #dean winchester #castiel #adam milligan #masterlist #s15 masterlist