Chapter Text
Dean felt Castiel stiff against him, his muscles tense under Deans fingertips. Dean would probably panic and assume rejection by now, considering that Castiel's lips were rigid, even though his moved against them gently, prolonging first real contact with someone after Alistair, but he could feel Castiels happiness and unmistakable affection through their bond. He could pick up protectiveness and care, his loyalty and simple, strong love. It was reassuring and comfortable, even though Castiel didn't know how to respond to a kiss. It made Dean smile, and as he pulled away, he saw Castiels piercing blue eyes wide open. Dean felt his smile grew larger so he sneaked his arms around Castiels waist, pulling him closer into his warm embrace, and dipping his head slightly lower, bringing their foreheads together while he enjoyed Castiels intense gaze that made his heart beat faster.
“You should close your eyes during the kiss, silly.” Dean whispered, letting fondness creep into his voice.
“I wasn't aware there were rules.” Castiel sullenly retorted.
“Hey grumpy, it wasn't bad. It was opposite of bad. Wanna try again?” Dean proposed, as he felt ridiculous chuckle coming. Someone might call it giggle even. But he was so damn happy feeling Castiels true emotions that he didn't care. He had his Big Gay Crisis, his Not Even Human Crisis and his We're Still in Hell Crisis and yet he wanted to kiss this angel more than anything. Dean brought Castiels arms around his neck and leaned in again, this time revealing his passion, abandoning all caution, and diving right in. He felt over the top when Castiel tentatively responded, moving slightly in harmony with him.
Dean wanted to stay right there forever, kissing Castiel, feeling loved and adored.
Castiel broke the kiss with small sound emitting regret, but informed Dean that he was ready to continue with healing: “I believe this is the last one.”
“About your plan... Cas, I'm not leaving here without you. We can make it.” Dean suddenly felt terror seeping through him. He dreaded the sheer possibility of losing Cas now that he has him. Dean squeezed his arms around Castiels ribs more tightly, pulled him even closer to him. “I would stay and fight.” He added with determination.
“New plan then. Let me heal you first.”
“No.”
Castiel huffed, a little quirk he picked up from Dean. There was an expression of irritated tenderness on his face:”I'll fly us out.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Dean hid his face in crook of Castiels neck, relishing how safe it made him feel. “You can heal me now.” Dean could feel angels amusement, and surprise that followed. It was like Castiel wanted to laugh but he wasn't yet sure how.
Castiel didn't want to move away from Dean, so he cupped his jaw and let his Grace wander, search tears in Deans soul, repairing them. It made their bond even more vast, somehow deeper and stronger. Every healing made Dean boneless, glowing and sated all over, so when Castiel abruptly pulled away he grunted in protest.
“What?” he asked numbly, slowly opening his eyes and then seeing Castiels tens, cold expression. “WHAT?” Dean asked again, obvious horror in his eyes. His heart was beating like mad again, this time for completely different reasons.
“Demons. They found us.”
“Then we gotta run. Now!” Dean untangled himself from Castiel, grasping his hand and tugging, hard. “Come on! I know you're not healed. We can't fight!”
“No. They are too close.” Castiel said in his stoic voice, dropping strange looking blade from his sleeve into his hand. “We are not going to fight. I am going to fight them. Just long enough that I can fly away. You need to stay here.”
“I told you I'm going to fight!” Dean protested, holding Castiels hand firmly.
“I need you safe! You are going to stay here and wait until I return.”
“No!” Dean was adamant.
“I promised you I'll go with you.”
Dean pulled Castiel into desperate kiss, holding him impossibly tight. “You come back to me, alright?”
“Yes.” Behind that simple word stood way more feelings and promises that one could imagine.
Dean thought he could explode from agony that ooze from Castiel as he walked away, abandoning him, going through cave entrance and into the dark. He could only see sudden flashes of light that would indicate Castiel was still alive and kicking, aside from constant screams and shrieking. Dean could only pray that they weren't Castiels.
In great burst of light, Castiel returned and morphed into recognizable image of his vessel that now looked beat up and bloody, representing angels current state. “Dean! We're going. Right now!” Castiel griped his shoulders and rushed him out into obscurity.
Last thing he saw were Castiels wings, bigger than he remembered and somehow brighter, and then they were off, flying endlessly up. He was cradled safely into Castiels arms, but he could feel blows that the angel took, never stopping or slowing down. Dean felt sudden lightness and freedom- the second they left Hell he was better and livelier. He was with Cas and everything was alright. Sudden exhaustion overcame him and he easily slipped into unconscious state.
Castiel was panting, trying to keep his pain at bay, but he couldn't ignore hip powers melting away. They landed on Deans grave and with the last of strength he could muster he rebuilt Deans body, enabling his soul to inhabit it once again. He noticed marks he unintentionally left on Deans upper arms, strangely pleased with them and then ascended to Heaven, trying to get his strength back quickly before Dean woke up.
He was beaming over success as he joyfully announced to everyone: “DEAN WINCHESTER IS SAVED.”