the devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me
would it be enough if i could never give you peace?

peace, taylor swift

chapter twenty two

✦  ✦  ✦  ✦
━━━━━

CATHERINE SITS on the floor at the foot of her bed. She's barely been in her room since getting back. Now, she doesn't exactly know why she came in here. Certainly not to sleep.

A knock echoes through the room. "Cath?" Dean calls. He doesn't wait for an answer before opening the door.

"In here," she answers.

He closes the door and goes to sit next to her. He doesn't say anything, content to just sit with her. For a while, she doesn't either. There's so much she's been wanting to say lately, ever since that last case. So much she's been afraid to say, because of what comes after.

But she's not sure she could live with herself if she says nothing.

"How long do you think this is going to last?"

He looks over at her, stunned at the sudden question. "What?"

She taps her forehead with the tip of her middle finger. "It's been over a month. We're no closer to any solution."

"Well, it's not just gonna pop up overnight."

"I know that. I'm just..." She trails off, shaking her head.

"Did something happen?"

She shakes her head again. "I'm just nervous that in all this time waiting, doing nothing, something will give, and everything will come crashing down. And I'm most nervous that the something will be me."

Dean shifts in his spot, facing her. "Don't say that. You can handle this."

She drops her gaze to her hands, fidgeting with each other. "Dean, listen...I've been talking to Rowena."

His brows knit, suspicion creeping onto his face. "Why?"

She clears her throat and hugs her knees to her chest. "Back on my world...there's a cave system under a mountain range. I never went there, it was overseas, but I heard of people who'd use it as a shelter. It's one of the only places Michael doesn't know about."

His face morphs into fear. "Why are you telling me this?"

"It's deep, and...dark enough that even an archangel wouldn't be able to navigate it well. Rowena thinks she'd be able to find a way to get me there. Archangel warding isn't that difficult to produce, especially for her."

Fear and now disbelief are etched on his face. He blinks once, then turns away and gets to his feet.

She sighs and mirrors his action, crossing her arms around her middle. He paces to the other side of the room, one hand resting on his waist and the other rubbing his eyes. He laughs dryly and turns to her. "You can't do this. You can't just spring this on me and then expect me to be okay with it."

"I'm not, I–

"What about you, huh? Where do you fit into all this?"

"Does it matter?"

"Does it– does it matter? Of course it matters, Cath. Say you go through with this insane plan. Michael's an archangel, he could keep you alive for centuries. Or, on the flipside, he ditches and kills you on the spot."

"So what?"

"What do you mean, so what?"

"Dean, do you really think I care what happens to me, as long as Michael is out of the picture? If it means he's gone, and you're safe?"

He crosses the room, jabbing a finger at his own chest. "I care. You have people here who love you, Catherine. They care. You think they'll be willing to ship you off just to stop him?"

She glares up at him, feeling the boil of anger in her gut and the burn of tears behind her eyes. "Just to stop him? What do you think will happen if he gets out, hm? He will kill everyone. He'll kill you, and he'll make me watch. He'll make me watch as he burns the world. How could I matter if it meant I could stop it?"

He shakes his head gently. "The world can burn if it means you're safe."

"I'll never be safe. I think it's time we both learn to accept that."

He shakes his head again and steps back, dragging his hands over his face. "You can't do this," he repeats. He faces her again, eyes glassy. "You can't ask me to do this."

"I'm not asking you to help me," she says, voice wavering. "I'm asking you to let me go."

He simply says, "No."

He walks out as her tears begin to fall.

✦  ✦ 

DEAN FINDS her in a park. He remembers Jack mentioning him and Cath coming here often, just to sit or walk around.

She's curled on the edge of a bench, chin resting on her knees. He can tell she's been crying. He doesn't want to make her feel like this, but he can't stomach the implications of her plan.

He sits across the bench. It's close to dark, and the clouds look dangerously close to rain.

"You know, I never thought I'd see a view like this again," Cath says, eyes pointed forward.

Dean follows her gaze, slightly puzzled as to what view she might be referring to. It only takes him a few seconds to realize– the trees. The plants, rich and green. The smell of oncoming rain, the grass, dirt paths. Evidence of a full, alive world.

"I don't want to leave this place, Dean. I think you know that."

He closes his eyes for a second, breathing in the damp air. "Let's not talk about this here," he says. "It's gonna rain. Let's go home."

✦   ✦ 

SHE'S NOT sure at what point they started yelling again.

"I'm just trying to make you understand," she says, following Dean into his room. She accidentally slams the door behind her,

"I understand, believe me."

"I don't think you do. I'm trying to do the logical thing here."

He scoffs and turns to her in disbelief. "Logical?"

"Okay, listen. If you take me out of the equation, and it's just Michael, you'd do it, right?"

"Yeah, I would."

"So why is it different now?"

"Why can't you see that it is different? If you're involved, it's different. Fuck logic."

She sighs and covers her face with her hands in frustration. She feels anger bubbling. It heats the room. "We're not in a position to just say 'fuck logic.' Sorry to break that to you."

"I don't care." He turns away from her and slips off his jacket. "I don't get why you're so eager to throw yourself into the fire for this. It's no solution if we have to lose you for it."

"I'm not, Dean. I'm not! When are you going to stop acting like I'm on some sort of suicidal rampage?"

"When are you going to start acting like you want to live through this?"

Her voice quiets and her eyes well again. "Of course I want to live. Of course I want a life here, Dean. I'm just trying to accept that it's not an option for me."

"Why not?

"'Cause it never has been."

"It could be. If you fight for it, it could be."

"I'm fighting for you! You think I don't know how much you want out? How you'd retire in a heartbeat, if you knew the world was safe? I'm trying to help that along. No one's safe as long as Michael's still here, least of all you and me."

He mimics his action from earlier, crossing the room and stopping just in front of her. She can feel his gaze down to her bones. It's hard not to shy away from it. "Why does this have to be your only solution, huh?"

"There's nothing else, Dean. I'm trying to protect you."

"Why?"

"Because I love you! You–" She shoves him lightly by the shoulders. "–fucking asshole! And it scares me to death. It scares me so much I can't breathe. And I can't– I can't bear the thought of something happening to you. It'd be my fault. I can't bear it." She exhales shakily, swiping away her tears as they fall.

He watches her, stunned. A few seconds pass, and he looks away as a chuckle escapes his mouth. His hand comes up to rub his brow.

"Are you laughing?"

"That's– this isn't fair," He says. He drops his hand and stares her down, no trace of humor on his face. "You can't say that to me and then go off to die."

"There's–" She takes a step towards him, and he steps back, shaking his head slightly and avoiding her gaze. "There's only one path ahead. This is the only one I can see."

He won't look at her.

"Dean."

"Prove it," he says suddenly, finally looking at her. Tears shine in his eyes.

"What?"

"Prove what you said. Prove you love me. Don't do this. Stay."

She opens her mouth, then closes it again. For a few seconds she stays like that, staring at him and not knowing what to say.

Only he can make her head spin like this. Only he can make her consider throwing the only logical solution out the window. Only he would be able to make her believe they can find something else.

Only him.

She already said it. What else is left for her to do?

"Okay," she says. "Fine."

He raises his eyebrows. "Fine?"

"Yeah. Fine." She quickly closes the gap between them, not stopping as she says, "You're an ass." Then she kisses him.

He doesn't hesitate. He kisses back roughly, desperately pulling her closer. It's like a question. Like begging. She wraps an arm around his neck and deepens it, opening her mouth to meet his.

They pull away just enough to breathe. She's panting, and so is he.

"Only you could talk me out of this," she says.

"You're staying." He says it like he can't believe it.

She nods, and leans back slightly to look at him, to look in his eyes. She cups the side of his face, brushing her thumb along his cheekbone. Her voice drops to a whisper. "I love you."

A tear slides down his face and he closes his eyes, leaning into her hand. She doesn't say anything, but brushes it away with her thumb. She presses her forehead to his. It reminds her of another moment, when everything was crashing down around them, and Dean was there to hold her through it. It doesn't feel much different now.

He grabs her face with both hands and kisses her again. This time it's slower, softer. Like an answer.

Everything unspoken, now they share. Everything they can't say, this is how they tell each other.

He pulls away first, keeping their brows connected. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that." His voice is low and hoarse.

"Then don't stop."

✦  ✦ 

HOURS LATER, Catherine stands in Dean's room alone, with only a sheet wrapped around herself. She curiously thumbs through his collection of vinyl, then moves on to his dresser. Not for any real reason, other than being nosy.

She opens a middle drawer just as Dean reenters the room, holding two mugs. The smell of coffee wafts towards her as he closes the door. "What are you doing?" A small grin appears on his face.

Her jaw drops as she sees what's inside. "Dean, why do you never wear these?" She digs through the contents of what she considers to be a gold mine: band t-shirts.

He chuckles to himself as she pulls out a black Metallica shirt. She tosses the sheet onto the bed and pulls on the shirt. He's still grinning as she turns to him and takes the outstretched mug.

"Looks better on you than it does on me," he says. She rolls her eyes as she sips the coffee.

"Yeah, yeah. I say you're never too old for band shirts."

"Half of those probably won't even fit me anymore."

She hums in response. "'Cause you've really let yourself go over the past decade."

Now it's his turn to roll his eyes. "Drink your coffee."

"I hope you know I'll be stealing these. Often."

He raises his eyebrows. "Trust me, I don't mind." As he passes, he leans in to say in her ear, "Nothing sexier than seeing you wearin' my clothes."

She smirks and takes another gulp of coffee before setting it down on the dresser. "Oh, yeah?"

She climbs on the bed after him, then climbs on him, straddling him. His hands come to rest on her thighs. "I think I can change your mind," she says.

"Oh, really?"

She nods, and leans in to kiss him again.

Later, as the sun begins to come up, wrapped in the sheets and in Dean's arms, Catherine dozes off.

Then, properly, deeply, for the first time in weeks, she falls asleep. 

━━━━━
✦  ✦  ✦  ✦

author's note !!

hi friends....

take this chapter as my apology for not updating, i hope u like it lmao. we've all been waiting for this moment forever so i hope its worth it (also i don't think i need to say this but i will anyways; if you wanted smut this is not the book for you)

anyways. i recognize that i said i was gonna update more and i also recognize that i have yet to live up to that............i apologize lmfao. we will see my job leaves me chronically exhausted (even tho its the easiest job ever)(leave me be im autistic) 

as always please leave votes and comments if ur enjoying,  i adore them with my whole heart <3

thanks for reading!!

-skye