Chapter Text
The next few days are less tedious.
Cas falls into a semi-easy rhythm with Dean, though it’s a bit cautious at first. It’s hard to go from thinking someone is discomforted and disgusted by your presence to suddenly kissing you. They hold hands, they kiss, they blush.
Cas has never had anything like this with anyone, and he never expected to get it from Dean.
Because Dean is infinitely better than him. Big green eyes, plush lips, freckles, and a nose that’s been broken one too many times. He’s the Righteous Man, he’s Cas’ best friend, he’s Cas’… partner? Lover? He doesn’t know what to call them.
He chooses not to say anything on the off chance that it upsets Dean and he stops holding his hand. Dean’s been more tactile recently, and he doesn’t want to risk that.
He regularly asks if Cas is okay, if he’s tired, if he’s happy. He cooks for Cas, constantly asking if the molecules are up to par. Cas doesn’t tell him that he finds all molecules unpleasant. He eats Dean’s food anyway.
Simply because it’s not about the food. It’s not about the swirly cinnamon pancakes or the greasy burgers he makes him. It’s because Dean is the one making them. Cas knows that Dean communicated through mostly actions, so to push the food away would be pushing his love away. And Cas refuses.
Dean likes to feel useful to those around him, and so does Cas. So, Cas eats Dean’s food.
In return, Dean accepts the little poems he finds scattered around his room. It’s the sweetest win-win situation he’s ever been a part of.
Cas tries to knock himself out of the habit of treating Dean like a wild animal ready to snap. It’s hard, because Cas and Dean’s friendship has always been so fickle. Cas always left because he believed he wasn’t wanted, and Dean never asked him to stay because he figured that if Cas wants to leave, he shouldn’t hang on to him.
This endless miscommunication plagued their relationship for twelve years. Now that almost everything is on the table and out in the open, Cas is worried. He’s worried that Dean will see him for what he is and decide that he’s just not worth it. So he stays complacent. He doesn’t complain about Dean’s loud music and he consumes overwhelming molecules so Dean will keep him around.
He actually loves you, one part of Cas screams.
He wants your powers, another counters.
He tries not to disappear into his head often. It’s not pleasant in there, especially not after being forced to relive all of his worst regrets. He saw everything .
Him working with Crowley, killing Balthazar, killing Samandriel, decimating thousands of Angels, casting the angels out, not saving Jack. They go on and on, some he hadn’t even remembered. The Empty had shown him memories that Naomi had ripped from him. Maybe they were taken for a reason.
So he keeps himself busy. He regularly checks on the bunker’s warding, he checks in with Dean, he helps Sam with his witchcraft.
He’s still trying to get used to his son being God. He didn’t want that for him, he just wanted him to be a kid. Why him? Cas thinks, desolately. Why couldn’t it have been someone else?
Castiel has tried to be god, Raphael has tried to be god, Metatron has tried to be god. It didn’t end well for any of these contenders.
Jack is only three. He’s three. He’s Cas’ baby boy, he’s Kelly Kline’s sacrifice. He’s suffered so much, and Cas couldn’t stop any of it. How much is he worth if he couldn’t even do that? Why did Jack even bother bringing back his poor excuse of a Father?
He tries to spend as much time with Jack as he can. As much as he wants to enjoy Dean and his newfound vulnerability, he knows that Jack only has so much time before he must return to heaven. How could you bring me back just to leave me? Cas’ thoughts are toxic, burning holes in his perfectly crafted patience. Why'd you bring me back, then?
He’s ungrateful. He got Dean, but he has to lose Jack again. It’s a sick choice, but he’s made his decision.
He’ll stay with Dean. He just hopes that Jack will come if he prays. As much as he loves Jack, can he really return to Heaven?
He’s not built for the divine anymore. (It’s also because Dean would probably riot if Cas ever told him he was leaving.)
He tries to keep his head on straight. He tries to keep his emotions in check. All of the love, the pain, the grief, the confusion. It’s all so much, but he does with it what he always has. He holds it in his chest and lets it out through passionate kisses with Dean. He’ll die happy if it’s here in Dean’s arms, or even Jack’s.
On the fifth day of Cas being back, he receives some gifts.
Dean went out in the morning, insisting that he didn’t need Cas to go with him. Cas was a little hurt that Dean didn’t want his company, but he does his best to brush it off. This might be it, Cas thinks. He might already be tired of you.
Cas tries his best to ground himself by doing the dishes. While he’s drying, Sam walks in.
“Hey Cas, y’know where Dean went?”
Cas doesn’t turn around, still busying himself with the mindless task of drying the rest of the plates. “Nope. He just said he was going out, insisted he didn’t need company.”
He hears Sam’s footsteps approach, then sees him open the fridge out of the corner of his eye. He hears the clinking of a beer bottle and sensing Sam standing by the toaster. There’s a loud silence for a moment.
Then, “You okay, Cas?”
Cas still doesn’t turn around, drying the next plate more aggressively than he needs to. “I’m fine.”
He can physically feel Sam’s analytical eyes burning into the back of his head. “Are you sure? ‘Cause… you look a little. Stressed.”
Cas scrubs at the plate even harder. It shatters in his hands.
He feels Sam jump, and the reality of the situation finally dawns on him. He feels both horrified and horrendously embarrassed.
He’s so frustrated. He doesn’t even know why. He places his hands on the edge of the sink and lowers his head.
“Cas,” Sam asks resolutely. He doesn’t even sound shocked, like he’s been seeing this coming for days now. Maybe he has. “Look at me, man.”
Cas sighs, he finally relents.
He turns around slowly, a frustrated and yet bashful look on his face when he turns to face Sam. He lowers his head slightly when he lets his back hit the edge of the sink.
“Cas,” Sam starts, a sympathetic look on his face. “What’s wrong, man?”
Cas fumbles for a moment, trying to find the words to describe how he’s feeling. “It’s all so much, Sam. Jack is God, I’m actually alive, and Dean is-“
He cuts himself off.
“I’m struggling to get readjusted with… being alive, essentially. Everything has changed so much and I’m just… I’m trying to stay grounded.”
Sam lets out a warm hum, like he’s considering. “Why’s this all hitting you now?” He’s not asking to be rude, he’s genuinely curious. Cas tries his best to explain.
“The truth is, I’m not nearly as level-headed as I’ve been trying to portray. And Dean… he worries me. He’s changed so much just in the time I was gone, and it’s hard for me to readjust my behavior to match how he is now. I’ve been trying to stay calm for him, because I know that… my return was a lot for him. But now that I’m without him for the first time since being back-“
His mouth moves for a moment, no words coming out. Sam looks endlessly patient, just casually sipping his beer while he listens to Cas rant.
“It’s all hitting me. I’ve been putting on a brave face as you say, and now that he’s not here…”
Sam’s eyebrows dip in sympathy. “You feel it crumbling,” he finishes for him.
Cas just lowers his head. He’s always appreciated his friendship with Sam. Sam has always done his best to give Cas the benefit of the doubt, of the exception of when he was soulless. Though, Cas can’t really hold that one against him.
Even when Dean has been furious with him, Sam has always tried to understand. He remembers when he walked in on them talking about Billie’s murder, and Sam had defended him even then.
He defended Sam against Anna, once. Admitting that he was friends with Sam was the start of something new for Castiel. Even when Lucifer had asked him where he was. I… I came alone, he’d lied. Directly to Lucifer’s face, nonetheless. Even surrounded in a ring of holy fire, he wouldn’t have given Sam up.
Sam takes in his silence for a moment, before he sets down his beer and leans his chin down on his hand. “What are you scared is gonna happen? If Dean finds out that you’re struggling a little bit, what are the consequences?”
It’s not mean, but it is a little incredulous. Like Sam is shocked that even after being given the one thing he really wanted, that he could still be struggling.
“He could take it all back, for one.” Cas looks up at the kitchen light, ignoring the way the rips in his coat catch on the counter. “Everything he’s told me, every act of kindness he’s extended to me.”
Sam raises an eyebrow, like he’s sensing that there’s something Cas isn’t saying. He decides to fess up.
“He could realize that I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”
Sam’s eyes shine with emotion, a pitying look on his face. He looks peaceful, softened by the knowledge of being free. He looks unburdened, like there’s less weight on his shoulders. Cas wouldn’t want to see his friend any other way.
“Cas, don’t you think that would’ve happened years ago if that were the case?”
Cas tilts his head. “What do you mean?”
Sam picks up his beer again, gesturing with it instead of drinking it. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve made bigger mistakes than simply just… having some mental problems.”
Cas considers that for a moment. Sam continues explaining.
“No matter what you’ve done, he’s always eventually gone back to you. And no matter what he’s done, you’ve always eventually gone back to him. It’ll take more than this for him to want you gone.”
He supposes Sam’s right, Cas has done worse that Dean’s forgiven him for. Sam, too. He’s done horrible things to Sam, said disrespectful things to him before he really knew him. Sam’s always been there for him, and Cas appreciates him endlessly. We are fighting, Sam had said. We’re fighting for you, Cas.
“Now, I understand feeling a little off after coming back from the dead. We’ve all been there. But Dean wants you around now more than ever. If there’s anything that I know for sure, it’s that.”
There seems to be a story there, Cas observes. But he feels as though it’s not his place to ask, so he doesn’t.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right. Thank you, Sam.”
Sam just nods, appraising Cas with a little smile. “Of course, man. You can always talk to me, we’re family.”
Cas smiles back and goes to respond, but he’s cut off by Jack walking into the kitchen. He raises his hand in a wave and shoots Cas an enthusiastic hello.
“Hello, Jack.”
He walks in with a joyful stride, but it falters when he spots the broken glass on the counter and floor. His head tilts. Like father, like son. “Oh, did something happen?”
Cas just shakes his head. “Don’t worry, Jack. It was just an accident.” He’s not technically lying, so Jack shouldn’t be able to sense the dishonesty. If he does, he doesn’t say anything. Suddenly, Jack snaps his fingers and the glass is gone. The plate is suddenly whole again, stacked on top of the other dishes like it was never shattered.
Jack smiles proudly, like he’s just fixed world hunger. “Thank you, Jack,” Sam says warmly.
Cas is endlessly grateful to the kindness Sam showed Jack while he was gone. Though the Ma’lak Box was an almost unforgivable offense, Sam had tried with Jack. He’d picked up where Dean couldn’t leave off. Jack cherishes Sam, and Cas doesn’t blame him.
Sam finishes off his beer, throwing the empty bottle in the trash once he’s done. It lands in the trash with experienced accuracy. “You guys wanna help me translate one of the spells Rowena left me?”
Cas looks over to Jack, and Jack’s smile grows like he’s been asked to run around in a ball pit. His childlike excitement pulls at Cas’ heart, and he feels warm all over. “Sure!”
Cas nods along, “I’ll help as well.”
Sam smiles like he was hoping Cas would agree. They leave the kitchen, and Sam brings the spell to the War Room.
~~~
Turns out, the spell is actually a healing spell of sorts. Sam, who simply just enjoys figuring things out, is needlessly pleased at the finished translation.
Sam thanks Jack with a fatherly clap on his shoulder, and Jack’s smile is warm enough to melt Cas’ Grace down to liquid.
He loves him. He loves him so much.
He’s glad he got to tell Jack he loved him before the deal dragged him away. Why? Jack had asked, devastated. Why?
Because I love you, Jack.
But now they’re both back, and Cas gets to tell him as much as he wants. He doesn’t want to wait until one of them is dying, or until one of them has made a catastrophic life-ending deal with a cosmic entity.
Just as he’s about to open his mouth to say something, the bunker door opens. Dean walks in, Miracle hot on his heels. Miracle follows him joyously down the stairs, tail wagging and tongue out. Dean’s carrying a bag in his hands, and he casually makes his way over to where the three of them are standing around the War Room table.
“What type of Wizard of Oz crap is going on over here?”
Sam rolls his eyes at Dean, donning his trademarked bitch face that he’s perfected over the last 36 years. “I was having them help me translate one of Rowena’s spells.”
He makes a huh movement with his mouth and asks how it went.
“It went great, turns out it’s a type of healing spell. It’ll come in handy if we ever need it.”
Dean shrugs, the bag in his hands moving with the movement. “Sounds promising.”
His gaze migrates, then, landing warmly on Cas’ face. He searches Cas’ face, like he’s trying to decipher whether or not Cas is okay without having to ask. Cas holds his gaze despite wanting to squirm under it.
“Cas, come with me for a sec.”
Cas shoots a wary glance at Sam, who just looks at him like he’s being dramatic. Then, his eyes soften, and his eyes flicker to Dean then back to him. Go, his eyes say.
Cas goes.
He follows Dean into his room, the anxiety growing when Dean closes the door behind them. Dean sits down at the foot of his bed, setting the bag down his feet. He leans down and starts rummaging around in it. Cas shifts anxiously from foot to foot.
“Uh… is everything alright?”
Dean’s head raises from where he’s bent over, arms in the bag. He analyzes Cas for a second, eyebrows furrowing at his nervousness. Immediately, he tries to reassure him. “Yeah of course, Cas.”
Cas’ shoulders fall slightly in relief, face smoothing out. He watches Dean with curiosity, waiting for Dean to present the contents of the blue shopping bag.
Dean looks up at him again.
“I’ve got somethin’ for you, Cas.”
Cas’ face blooms with shock. He didn’t think that Dean would get him a gift after the mixtape. He’s grateful, even though guilt soon spreads in his chest. He didn’t get Dean anything.
Dean pulls something out of the bag, and Cas takes a moment to analyze what’s in his hands. Dean grabs it by the shoulders and shows Cas the whole of his gift.
Cas blinks. It’s a trenchcoat.
It's longer than the brown one he’s currently wearing, and it’s lighter. It’s a sandy color, with long lapels and dapper buttons down the front. The back doesn’t have ruffles like some of his old ones, but it looks the most similar to one of the first ones he ever wore.
It’s got a belt-like strap that goes around the waist, and if Cas is correct it’d hang down to around his knees.
“Oh, ” he says breathlessly. Dean looks bashful, like he’s both embarrassed and worried that Cas won’t like it. Cas is warmed, his chest heating like baked bread.
He loves it.
His silence must come off as negative to Dean, because he starts rambling.
“I- I saw your current one was pretty messed up so I thought maybe-“
“Dean-“
He barrels over him, nervously talking while Cas reaches out to grab the coat. “Maybe you wanted a new one. I mean- I know that your trenchcoat is kinda a comfort thing for you and-“
Cas clutches the coat to his chest. “Dean, it’s-“
“-And I want you to be comfortable, so I figured you didn’t wanna wear a ripped coat forever-“
“Dean.”
Dean freezes, his eyes finally locking with Cas’ long enough for him to relax.
He pulls the coat away enough to get a good look at it. He knows how fond his gaze must look. “I love it, Dean.”
Dean’s shock is both adorable and amusing. God, Cas loves him. He loves him so much. He’s so embarrassed, and that’s what makes this all the more special. Dean rarely gives gifts, but Dean decided that he wanted Cas to have something new. He’s adorable, he’s everything.
“Oh,” Dean says dumbly. “Well, good.”
Cas just smiles at him, unable to control it. “Thank you, Dean. I needed a new one.”
Dean stands up from his spot on the bed, walking towards Cas with a mischievous look on his face. There’s a devilish little smirk, there, and Cas doesn’t want to know why. He gently takes the coat from Cas’ arms and throws it over his own shoulder. For some reason, seeing his coat over one of Dean’s shoulders makes his whole face flush.
He fumbles for words, his eyebrows twitching. Dean raises his arms and slowly, very slowly, pushes Cas’ current trenchcoat down his shoulders. He pushes until it’s around his elbows, he pushes until it’s on the floor. Cas feels frozen in place. Once it’s off, Dean runs both of his hands down the lapels on Cas’ suit jacket. He straightens it out, making sure the collar is even and lined up,
He straightens Cas’ tie but loosens it slightly. Cas would’ve thought that’d look ridiculous, but Dean is looking at him like he's the most sinfully beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Dean slowly grabs the trenchcoat from his shoulder. “Here,” he says coyly. “Let me help you with that.”
Cas does not need help. But, he will take it.
Dean walks behind him, gently lifting his arms one by one and sliding them through the sleeves of his new coat.
He stays behind him to flatten down the collar in the back. It’s then that he does something that really makes Cas’ stomach flutter. He throws his arms around Cas’ neck, his hands resting on his chest. He’s an inch or two shorter than Dean, and it makes him feel small. Dean plants a kiss under his right ear. Cas makes a pathetic noise when Dean pulls away. Cas turns around to face him.
“Jack could’ve fixed my coat,” he says meekly.
“True, but this is way more fun.”
Cas smiles, pecking Dean sweetly on the lips before settling a hand on his freckled cheek. “It is. This one is much more comfortable too.”
Dean actually looks surprised. “Really?”
The truth is, Cas is indifferent to the fabrics in these coats. They actually don’t feel that different from each other. Dean doesn’t need to know this.
“Really,” he answers lowly.
Dean shudders.
“Come,” Cas says. “We should spend time with Jack before he has to return to heaven.”
Dean huffs, rolling his eyes dramatically. “You’re such a tease, Cas.”
Cas just gently grabs his hand and leads him out of the room. His old trenchcoat is forgotten on the floor.
~~~
On the seventh day, Jack finally announces that he must return to heaven.
Despite the fact that he saw it coming, it’s still disappointing.
Dean’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop this whole time, and he knows that Cas is devastated about it, too. He treads carefully around Cas, not wanting to upset him. He’s solemn the entire day. Sam is devastated too, dreading the loss of his son again.
Jack gathers them all into the War Room so he can properly say goodbye.
Cas twists the tie of his new coat anxiously, and Dean’s heart clenches at seeing him so upset. The air is stunted, and the loss feels detrimental.
“Before I go,” he announces to the beatifically. “I have a gift for you.”
He stares directly at Cas as he says it, and Sam and Dean follow his gaze. Cas is standing with his hands propping him up on one of the War Room chairs. He looks around, discomforted by the attention. “Wh- Me?” He points to his chest like Jack must be mistaken.
“Yes,” he smiles. “You.”
Dean tries to give him a reassuring smile, but Cas only seems more unsettled. “Oh- okay. What is it?”
Jack considers for a moment, face scrunching in thought. “Well, it’s more of a return, if you will.”
Cas doesn’t look any less confused. Dean takes pity on him, decides to help him out. “Jack, you’re stressin’ him out.”
Sam just huffs out a laugh. He doesn’t seem too concerned. He trusts Jack, and Dean knows this better than anyone. Sam had jumped to his defense before Cas was resurrected.
You deserved to be saved, he doesn’t!
He does, Dean, of course he does!
Sam has unbridled faith in his boy. Cas does too, but all of the attention being on him is making him uncomfortable.
Jack walks up to him, light blue sweater making his eyes glow. “There’s something that needs to be returned to you.”
Jack slowly raises his hands up to avoid scaring him, and places his youthful hands on Cas’ cheeks. He squishes him slightly, but Cas just stands there and allows it.
Anticipation pools in Dean’s gut, but he’s not sure if it’s the good kind or the bad kind.
A light blue glow comes from Jack’s hands, and Cas’ eyes glow with Grace. Cas clutches at Jack's wrist, his eyes rolling back slightly. His face grows pained, and Dean’s heart drops. Cas’ knees grow weak, and he falls down to one knee. Jack just follows him, keeping his hands firmly on Cas’ face.
Dean’s immediately concerned. He lurches forward, dread pooling in his stomach at the sight.
“Shit, Cas-!“
“Dean,” Sam cuts in, stopping him. “Wait a sec.”
Maybe Sam realizes something that Dean doesn’t, because that’s the last thing he wants to do right now. But he wants to have faith in Jack, so he stops in place and watches in both awe and horror at Cas’ slumped form. His back starts emanating the brightest light Dean’s ever seen.
Cas starts glowing. Radiant and blinding rays spill from Cas’ form, casting the entire room in an iridescent, heavenly glow. He can hear Cas making strained noises, like he’s trying to focus all of the energy into one place.
It’s so bright that Dean has to look away and shield his eyes. He can hear Sam do the same. There’s a loud, ear-piercing ringing, and Dean clamps his hands over his ears as hard as he can. It’s not the first time he’s heard Cas’ true voice, but it’s loud as hell every time.
The whole bunker shakes, and now Cas’ strained noises are even louder. Objects fly off shelves, and Sam is making pained noises at the sound of Cas’ true voice.
“God,” he grits out, his whole body trying to adjust to the output of energy in the room. Suddenly, it starts to dim.
“Cas-“
Some of the lights shatter, sparks and glass falling down over the four of them.
His head frantically turns to try and get a glance of Cas, but he’s met the shadow of Cas’ wings, feathered and full. Cas is slowly rising to his feet, his new trenchcoat flaring out by his knees. His eyes glow with powered up Grace, and Jack steps away from Cas like he’s his new creation.
Dean watches in awe as Cas stands fully, the shadow of his wings brighter than Dean’s even seen it. They’re full and huge, taking up almost the entire bunker wall. Jack just stares at them in admiration, snapping his fingers to fix the lights.
“Holy shit,” Dean says breathlessly. “You gave him his wings back.”
Cas rolls his shoulders, raising his head with a pleased sigh. He closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them, his eyes have returned to normal. The shadow of Cas’ wings dims then disappears.
Jack steps back from him, watching as Cas looks at his own hands with awe. He curls his fingers in and out, his hair a raven black.
“I gave him a bit more than that,” Jack says proudly. “I restored him back to full power. He’s practically an archangel now.”
Sam stands up, staring at Cas with reverence and pride. “You’re back, man.”
Cas’ eyes are on Dean, though, and he raises a hand to beckon Dean forward.
His whole chair moves.
Dean yelps, clutching the arms of the chair. He slides over to where Cas is standing, and Cas looks down at him with adoration. “The coat goes well with my wings,” he jokes, completely monotone. Dean loves him, he loves him.
“I knew you’d like it,” he purrs. He falls into this easily, flirty remarks always hitting Cas where he’s weak.
Sam just groans. “Please, get a room.”
Cas’ hair is disheveled from the healing, and he looks so much like he did when Dean first met him. He’s so glad it was him.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
~~~
Jack hugs Cas goodbye first.
They’re not particularly shocked, he is the claimed father. The first one to have faith in him, the first to change his mind. Cas wraps his arms around his son with fervor, clutching him to his chest. Jack throws his arms around Cas’ back, shoving his face in his shoulder. The shadow of Cas’ wings materializes, and he wraps them around his son, trapping them both in a little cocoon.
When the shadow of Cas’ wings dims, he pulls away and rests a large hand on his son’s cheek. “Thank you.”
Jack doesn’t respond, just smiles up at his dad with adoration.
“I love you, Jack.”
Jack’s eyes shine as he looks up at his father. He doesn’t look like a God, he looks like Cas’ little boy. With matching blue eyes, Jack smiles. Just the sight of them makes Dean’s eyes water. Judging by the sniffle from his right, Sam’s in the same boat.
“I love you, too.”
Cas’ whole face softens, tilting and smoothing out. He tugs Jack’s face forward, gently bumping his forehead against his. When they pull away, Jack swipes a hand across his eyes. “You can fly up and visit whenever you want.”
Cas rolls his shoulders again, like he can feel the physical weight of his wings on his back and he’s readjusting.
“I will,” he says gently. “Take care of yourself, Jack.”
Jack smiles, turning his head to face Sam expectantly.
Sam marches up to him, slamming into Jack with more force than necessary. Jack’s hands fly up to Sam’s shoulder blades. Sam squeezes hard, and even God must wheeze out a laugh.
“I’ll miss you, Jack.”
Jack gives Sam a final squeeze, pulling away. Sam claps Jack on the shoulder like a suburban dad, and Jack chuckles at him.
When Jack finally approaches Dean, he does it a bit warily. It makes Dean’s stomach churn with guilt, but he brushes it away to appear approachable.
“What, wanted to save the best for last?”
Jack smiles, some of the anxiety smoothing from his face. He wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders, squeezing him tight. As Dean’s curling his arms around him, Jack whispers in his ear. “Take care of him, please.”
Dean nods against Jack’s ear. “I will.”
Jack pulls back, but quickly raises two fingers to Dean’s forehead before he can protest. A warmth spreads through his abdomen, and Dean straightens at the sensation. “What’d you just do?”
Jack smiles, taking a couple confident steps back. “I healed your liver.”
Dean huffs out an incredulous laugh. “You little shit.”
Jack laughs at him, his nose scrunching. He raises up a finger, thoughtful once his laughter dies down. “Dean, the connection between you and Cas is strong. It might have some… helpful side effects.”
Dean tilts his head. “What does that mean?”
Jack just shrugs. “You’ll find out.”
He raises his hand in a wave, and then he’s gone.
~~~
Dean’s worried.
That in and of itself isn’t new; he’s worried all the time. He worries about Cas and how he’s adjusting after the Empty, he worries about Sam and how things are going with Eileen, hell he even worries about Miracle and her bowel movements.
Cas has his wings back, which means he can go anywhere at any time.
He could leave.
One morning, Cas might start the day and decide he wants something different. Wants some more or wants something less. Dean only just got him back, Cas leaving would incapacitate him. He needs him, and his new liver would be for nothing if Cas left.
He’ll blow up, exploding on everything and everyone that would dare to speak to him after Cas left. He’d fall back into the same hole, miles of dirt packed on top of him. It’d be suffocating, he wouldn’t survive it.
There will be less plates in the house and Sam will dance around him like they’re divorced parents still living together.
When they go to Dean’s room that night, Dean’s already waiting for Cas to drop the bomb on him. Maybe he’ll say that he’ll return to heaven, maybe he’ll check out Tokyo.
When Cas walks into Dean's room, he immediately senses something is wrong. He can probably feel the anxiety, because Dean could feel Cas’ hesitance earlier.
“Dean,” he greets, looking brighter than ever. His skin is otherworldly smooth, an ethereal glow following him around. His eyes narrow, looking at Dean with concern. His blue eyes catch the yellow overhead light. “Are you alright?”
Dean, with his back to his headboard, doesn’t even know how to answer.
“Yeah,” he says, voice gravelly. “Yeah, I’m alright.”
Cas’ face pinches. He looks both concerned and perturbed. “I can feel that you’re lying.”
Dean’s eyebrows furrow. “You can feel that?”
Cas looks around, trying to find anything off about Dean’s room. “I always could, but the connection is making it… glaringly obvious.”
Dean rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. He feels exposed, and it makes him want to hide. “Don’t read my mind, man, it’s impolite.”
Cas crosses his arms, too. Dean doesn’t know if he’s mirroring him unintentionally or if he’s mocking him. “Don’t change the subject. What’s wrong?”
Dean stands up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and walking over to where Cas is standing. He pecks Cas on the lips once, twice. Cas looks flustered, but also endlessly worried.
Dean hopes that he can sweet talk Cas into staying. If loving him isn’t enough, maybe giving him more will be. He needs him to stay, he needs him.
He smooths down the front of Cas’ coat, his blue eyes observing him thoughtfully. “Dean,” he whispers. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”
Dean’s hands freeze, and he grabs on to the lapels of Cas’ coat. “You’re not thinkin’ of flitting off to Alaska, are you?”
Cas’ eyebrows furrow and his head tilts in confusion. “No, of course not. It’s dreadful this time of year, anyways.”
“That’s not what I mean, Cas.”
Cas’ eyes smooth in understanding. Anxiety pools in Dean’s stomach, he feels like Cas is looking right through him.
“You’re worried I’m going to leave.”
Dean sighs, fixing the front of Cas’ hair. “Got it in one, pal.”
Cas’ face scrunches in disgust. “Don’t call me pal,” he says grumpily.
Dean cringes. “Right. Now that we’re suckin’ face, I probably shouldn’t call you that.”
Cas glares at him. “Must you say it so… crudely?”
Dean chuckles, pushing Cas down to sit at the foot of the bed. “Sorry, I figured ‘passionately partaking in the pleasures of your lover’ was too mushy.”
Cas just smirks, a devilish look settling on his face. “For you or for me?”
Blush spreads rapidly across the expanses of Dean’s face, and he ducks his head to hide it. Cas gently raises his head by his chin. When their eyes meet again, Cas looks horrendously soft. He’s a molten marshmallow, a jar of peanut butter. “I’m not leaving you, Dean.” He caresses Dean’s jaw with his thumb. “I meant it when I told you I’d stay. My wings being fixed doesn’t change that.”
Dean leans in and kisses him, planting a hand under his ear. The meat of his palm cradles his jaw. He tries to push every ounce of love he can into this kiss, his chest swelling with affection. Cas must be able to feel it, because he starts whining into Dean’s mouth like he’s been touch-starved for years.
When they part, Dean swipes a thumb over Cas’ eyebrow to smooth out the pensive look on his face. “I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone again, Cas.”
Cas just kisses him again. “You’ll never have to find out.”
~~~
“You’re insatiable, Cas.”
Cas trots by with a frown on his face, dancing around the kitchen with Dean while he tries to cook the perfect omelet. “You didn’t have to make me eggs, Dean. I was fine with just the coffee.”
Dean shakes the pan above the heat, a handsome apron around his waist. “What if I want to make you breakfast, what then?”
Cas pours the coffee into his favorite mug. It’s one Claire got him ages ago with wings as the handle and a halo on the side. He doesn't put in creamer or sugar. He doesn't drink coffee for the taste, he drinks it for the warmth. “You can do whatever you want, Dean. You know I don’t like wasting food.”
Dean flips the omelet to the best of his ability. It’s not terrible, and it’s probably salvageable. Cas drops bread into the toaster. He feels useful, helping in the kitchen and keeping Dean company. He never thought he could have this.
“It’s not a waste if it’s for you, Cas.”
Cas grabs the butter from the fridge, narrowly dodging Dean as he races by to grab a plate. “My hero,” he drawls sarcastically. He can practically hear Dean’s eye roll as he retorts, “whatever. Don’t act like you don’t love it.”
Cas grabs the toast out the toaster when he starts to feel impatient. He doesn’t even feel the heat, and he deems the bread browned enough. He starts slathering the toast with butter, coating both slices before teleporting the butter back into the fridge. “You’re asking me to lie?”
Dean scoffs, plopping the omelet down on a plate. “Ha ha. Your sarcasm skills have been getting exceptionally good, Cas. Who’d you learn that from, huh, House?”
Cas snatches an avocado from thin air, leaving it on the counter for Sam to grab. He waves a hand over it, and suddenly it’s sliced in half and de-pitted. He pretends to think about it. “Sam, maybe.”
Dean gasps theatrically, sprinkling unnecessary salt on Cas’ omelet. “That’s harsh, Cas. I can’t believe you’d betray me like that.”
Cas walks up behind him as he peppers the omelet, planting a kiss on his shoulder before returning to his coffee. “Expect the unexpected, honey.”
Cas walks to the table, sitting down and sipping slowly at his coffee.
Dean grabs the plate and plops it on the table in front of Cas, narrowly missing Cas’ cup of coffee. “Ooo, that’s a new one. You tryna butter me up, sweetheart?”
Cas looks up at him, a shy smile emerging on his face. “That depends. Is it working?”
Dean pretends to think about it, eyebrows scrunching and lips curling. “You tell me,” he purrs, leaning down to press a kiss to Cas’-
“Am I interrupting something?”
Sam is sweaty, clearly just now coming in from his run. His hair is drenched, and Sam treks over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water.
Cas shoots Dean a sympathetic look, clearly he was looking forward to that kiss. “Sam, I made you toast and left you an avocado,” Cas informs.
Sam smiles, walking over to the toast and taking a large bite without even sitting down. He acts like it’s the best thing he's ever tasted. “Thanks, Cas,” he says, mouth comically full.
Dean bravely leans down and kisses Cas anyway. Cas freezes. Dean’s never kissed him in front of someone else, before. Oh, he thinks. Oh.
Cas whole being fills with warmth, and he has to pinch his lips together to focus himself and avoid blowing out all the lights in the kitchen.
Sam just eats his toast unnecessarily loudly. He spreads some of the avocado onto his toast, and Cas hears him gulp. “Alright, lovebirds. I gotta go get ready.”
Dean pulls away from Cas and turns around, an interrogating look on his face. “Where you goin’?”
Dean has always felt like the protector of the house. You leave, you gotta tell Dean first or else he’ll have a nervous breakdown. Circumstances aren’t quite as catastrophic this time.
Sam looks bashful for a moment, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m going to pick up Eileen.”
Cas looks up at Dean, and he can feel Dean’s joy settling in his chest. “Oh my Jack,” Dean starts teasingly. “You got her to stay.”
Sam blushes, taking another hasty bite of his toast. “Well, Chuck’s gone. Might as well enjoy having free will, right?”
Dean chuckles. “Oh, you’re gonna enjoy it, alright.”
Sam only flushes more, but Cas admonishes his older brother. “Dean,” he scolds. “Leave him.”
Dean turns around, facing Cas like he’s betrayed him. Cas keeps going.
“After all, it’ll be good for Sam to not be the only girl in the bunker.”
Sam’s jaw drops, and Dean just laughs harder than Cas’ heard in a long time. Sam balks, insulted. “I cannot believe you just made that joke.” He takes another playfully grumpy bite of his toast. “Dean’s rubbed off on you too much.”
Dean crosses his arms. “Yeah, I have!”
Sam gags, a teasingly disgusted look on his face. “Gross, man. Not in front of my toast.”
“Speaking of breakfast foods, you better eat your omelet,” Dean warns, whirling around to face Cas.
“Ooooh, someone’s in trouble.”
“Don’t you have a lady to go pick up?” Cas asks, a shit-eating grin lighting his face. “Maybe she’ll want an omelet, too.”
Sam grabs a paper towel from the roll, balling it up and throwing it at Cas’ head. Cas just catches it out of the air. Dean sits down across from Cas, chuckling at the sight in front of him. The brother-in-laws, bickering like children. “Kids, kids, behave yourselves.”
Cas scoffs, “Dean, I will revoke your coffee privileges.”
“Yeah, Dean. Stay out of the adults’ business.”
“I’m older than you!” He insists, hands flying up in exasperation.
“And I’m older than both of you.” Cas says authoritatively. “Imagine being under a millennia old.”
“I don’t like how witty you’re becoming, Cas.” Dean complains like a baby. Cas can sense that he’s lying. Dean secretly loves how much he’s influenced Cas’ humor.
“Yes, you do.”
Sam finishes off his toast, plopping his plate down in the sink before announcing his departure. “Alright, I’m showering and then I’m out of here. Don’t break anything while I’m out.”
Dean just looks at Cas, shrugging innocently. “He has no faith in us.”
Cas takes a bite of his omelet, trying to keep a poker face at the overwhelming molecules. “He’s a bit of a prude,” Cas says, mouth full of eggs.
Dean just chuckles, grabbing Cas’ mug and sipping out of it. “You’re tellin’ me.”
Cas swallows his eggs, the slight disgust seeping into some of his features. He’s glad that Dean isn’t looking at him. But he’s looking at Dean, and he’s absolutely beautiful. His face is as freckled as ever, pink cheekbones and long lashes decorating his features. He looks peaceful, domestic life treating him nicely.
“I love you,” Cas says softly. He can’t hold it back.
Dean chokes on his (read: Cas’) coffee. His cheeks flush, and he sputters for a moment. “I love you too, Cas.” He says it so gently, almost like a confession. But Cas already knew, of course he knows. How could he miss it?
How could he miss the way Dean’s been looking at him? How could he miss the little gestures and smiles and flustered expressions? How could he miss Sam’s looks of pride whenever he looks at his older brother? How could he miss that he’s wearing Dean’s love around his shoulders right now?
Cas smiles, teleporting his coffee back into his own hands. Dean lets out a shocked yelp at the coffee being pried from his hands. “Oh, come on. That’s not even fair.”
“What’s not fair is the fact that you’re trying to rob my coffee.”
“You can’t even properly taste it!”
“I fail to see your point.”
~~~
Things are simpler, from then on.
It’s easy, Dean loves Cas and Cas has always loved him. Their son is alive, Sam is doing well, Eileen is freshly resurrected and healthy as ever.
It’s easy, Dean makes him breakfast every single morning.
It’s easy, Sam makes fun of them after his run.
It’s easy, prayers to Jack are answered with a flicker of lights or a pull on the collar.
It’s easy, Cas decides to stay.