"Dean, tell me you did not do what I think you did?" Cas's voice turns desperate, "Tell me you didn't waste your life... your soul, just to come here."

I can't see him, but I can tell that he is in pain. Of course, he is; he loves me, after all. "Cas, tell me where you are. I don't have much time. I need to see you."

"Dean!"

"Cas!"

Soft sobs caress my ears, and I can feel my eyes well up as well, "Cas, you can yell at me to your heart's content, but first let me...I need to see you." I beg, but the only response I get is louder sobs and a throaty, "Why, Dean?"

I want to tell you how I feel, how I have always felt. 

"There is something I need to tell you." I reply, and after a moment's hesitation, add, "Cas, I want to be looking at you what I say it."

"I wish I could." He replies, hopeless, "I should have warned you before I left." Another sob leaves him, and he continues, "Once you are in the empty, it hides you. You can't see me unless it allows you."

"No! No. I can't accept that!" I shout back.

What Cas had just told me couldn't be the truth; could it?

"I can't accept that." I press on. My hand trembles as the thought that I may not be able to see him one last time cements itself in my mind, and a drop of wax falls on my thumb.

"Ah!" I wince.

"Dean! Are you..." Cas's concerned words trail off as the flame goes out once more.

Damn it!

Why is it so dark?

Where am I?

The smell of a recently extinguished flame hits my senses, and I realize that I am holding a candle. I feel for the light in my pocket and luckily find a matchbox.

Lighting the candle, I notice that there are only two more left. I inspect my thumb that is now stinging and shift the candle to my other hand to take a closer look at it.

"Dean?" A voice calls softly, and the things that had transpired before the candle had gone off rush back to me.

 I was running out of time. I close my eyes and try my best to keep my voice steady. "I am still here, man."; searching for you. 

"I thought you left." Cas deadpans, and I smile. If only I would have seen through what I thought were emotionless statements, we wouldn't be here right now, would we, Cas?

I don't voice my thoughts. I know they will only bring us pain. Instead, I look at my throbbing wrist and can't help but feel that I was missing something. In life, what I had learned was that, however dire the situation, there was always a way out.

Had my luck finally run out, now that Chuck was dead and I was no more part of his grand plan.

A drop of water lands on my wrist; it's warm, unlike the snowflake that had bid me goodbye, and Rowena's last words come back to me, 'Anything you can imagine, you can make real.'

Could it be that simple? 

Could it be so easy to defeat the empty?

No harm in trying, right? It was not like I had any other ideas anyway. 

 I close my eyes and recall Cas's beautiful grey eyes, his messy hair, his signature trench coat, and his lips that had called my name over and over again till I had eventually listened. I imagine his smile that reached his eyes every time I swung my arm around his shoulders. I think about how he had looked, the time he had held a baby in his arms. He had looked at home, at peace.

I want that with him, I realize and hear his voice again. Only this time, though it is calm, there is an undertone of urgency to it, "Dean, quit watching Dr. Sexy Reruns, and come help me. I need you."

I open my eyes, and I find myself sitting on a worn-out couch. The fragrance of the baby aisle at Costco permeates the air as my favorite episode of Dr. Sexy plays on the giant flat-screen TV.

"Deeean!" Cas's voice floats over to me, and my heart skips a beat.

"Casss!" I yell back, and he replies, "In Mary's bedroom."

Mary? My mom? 

I run towards the sound of the voice and barge in through the half-open door.

Chest heaving, heart racing, my eyes fall on Cas. He is holding a pink bundle in his arms and rocking it gently. He catches my eyes and smiles, "Took you long enough. Come." He speaks in a hushed tone, beckoning me closer, and when I am close, close enough to touch him, hold him, he hands the pink bundle over to me, "There you go, Mary. Your favorite dad is here."

Favorite dad!?

I feel confused but accept Mary nonetheless. "Cas, I... "

"Later, Dean. Put her to bed and come downstairs." He instructs and leans in. Placing a kiss on Mary's forehead, he catches my eyes with the softest look I had ever seen, "You did it, Dean." He adds and leans in once again. This time, however, it is my cheek that gets to bathe in the warmth of his lips. Leaning away, he strokes my brow, and with a bright smile, leaves the room.

Mary starts crying almost on cue, as if reprimanding me for ignoring her chubby pink cheeks, and I get to work.

I change her, feed her and burp her. I enjoy each moment that I spend holding her in my arms, till finally she yawns and falls asleep halfway through 'the itsy bitsy spider.'

I lay her down in the crib and lean in the way Cas had, and kiss her forehead.

Babies smell awesome when they are clean and fresh. 

As I make my way downstairs, I hear Cas humming. It's a heavy-metal number I hadn't listened to in a while. 

 As I reach the last step, my feet still. I realize that my heart is thundering once more, and the words I had repeated in my mind, I had practiced for almost a year, fly out of my mind.

Cas is standing with his back is turned towards me, but as I will my feet to move and take the last few feet that keep me from holding him in my arms, he turns, "Is she asleep?" He enquires, taking my hand in his and guiding me towards the kitchen island.

"Hungry." He asks, offering me a double cheeseburger with a stack of fires on the side.

How can I say no to that, to him? I accept the plate and mutter an awkward, "Thanks, man."

"Dean, there was something you wanted to tell me back then," He pauses and looks at the main door before continuing, "in the empty. What was it?"

With Cas so close, I find it impossible to form words, let alone sentences. I move my hand over my heart and try to calm down, but before I can, Cas leans in once more, and his warm lips meet mine.

I freeze up; I stop breathing.

Is this real? 

Is Cas really kissing me? 

Please let it be real! I pray to the powers that be and feel Cas smile into the kiss; he leans away, "It's real, Dean. It's as real as it gets."

He pulls me in a tight embrace. It's something we have done before; it puts me at ease. "Thank you, Dean." He says softly; his breath caress the nape of my neck.

It finally sinks in: it's real. All of it is real. I throw my arms around the man who I had fallen in love with without meaning to. I hold the angel who had fallen in love with me without expecting anything in return, close to me, and take a deep breath, breathing him in: like a man parched would a stream of fresh water. "Cas..."

"Yes, Dean."

I pull myself away and look at the man I had loved for eight years and finally say the words out loud, without the fear of rejection, abandonment, or ridicule, "I love you too, Cas. I think I always have. And I am sorry for not saying it earlier."

As the words leave my lips, Cas pulls close and brings our lips together in a searing kiss. And when we finally stop, it's not because we want to but because the baby monitor signals that Mary needs her dads.

We smile at each other and bound up the stairs two at a time.

I look out the window with Mary on my lap and Cas next to me, a layer of frost hides the view outside, but I can tell it's snowing. "Perfect time for eggnog, isn't it?" I enquire, and Cas nods, "Indeed it is. Why don't we make it together and continue what we started?" He replies and teases.

It's the first time he has said something like that, and I can't help but smirk, "Dude, I am so glad that my flirting skills are finally rubbing off on you."

Cas nods and looks at Mary. Soon, Mary is asleep once more. We lay the sound asleep baby back in the crib and leave the room to make good on the promise of making eggnog and more.

****

Meanwhile, in Hell, Rowena crosses her legs, and making herself comfortable on the throne, takes a sip of her vintage wine; she smiles to herself, "I do love winter; it's such a jolly season. I wonder what my least favorite human is doing with his angel right now." She wonders aloud with a dreamy look in her eyes before ordering her minions to go up top and get her fresh snow.

Why? To spread some holiday cheer, of course! 

{Note:- Word Count 1667}

The End