Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

part II

Dean feels his stomach do something equivalent to a somersault when he sees Cas walk out of the portal alongside Jack. 

The portal seals itself shut and vanishes, and silence settles in the bunker's kitchen. Jack is smiling- beaming, actually. And Cas- Cas mostly looks just as stunned as Sam and Dean are, like he can't believe that he's there either. 

And it’s not that Dean doesn’t want to speak. There's a lot- there's so much he wants to say, so much that he wishes he could get out because he feels like it's killing him. But the more he tries, the more he finds that words fail him. Because he’s looking at Cas and Cas is looking at him- he’s here and he’s real and-

“Cas,” Sam says, finally breaking the silence. “I… holy shit, man. Jack found you.” He walks over and pulls Cas into a tight hug, without any hesitation. “It’s good to see you again.” 

Cas returns the hug. Dean can see him smiling and his stomach turns again. “It’s good to be back,” he says.

Sam pulls back and claps his shoulder. “Good to have you back. It… it wasn’t the same without you here.” 

“Cas,” Dean manages to choke out. It’s quiet and honestly kind of pathetic-sounding, but it’s the only thing he’s able to get out. Sam and Cas both glance up at him, and Sam takes the hint and steps back. 

“Dean,” Cas returns. Dean almost thinks that he seems just as lost as he does.

Yet he can’t bring himself to say anything else. So instead, he walks over and pulls Cas into his arms, fingers digging into the fabric of his coat. 'I missed you' sits high in his mouth, on the tip of his tongue, but doesn't make it past his lips.

He feels Cas relax into him, and if they didn’t have an audience, he’s not sure that he would’ve ever let Cas go. When he feels Jack and Sam’s eyes on them he clears his throat and pulls away, face flushing. 

“How did you guys get out?” Sam asks. “I gotta be honest- I was expecting you guys to come back in rougher shape.” 

“The Shadow agreed to let Cas go,” Jack says cheerily.

"They just... let him go?"

“They were worried that a fight would wake everyone up, and they’d never be able to get back to sleep," Jack clarifies before his eyes suddenly widen in realization. “Oh- and because of this.”

He digs into his pocket and pulls the vial out, holding it up for them to see.

Dean's eyes go wide at the sight. “Is that Cas’ Grace? What the hell- you mean he’s human right now?” 

“Yup!” Jack says proudly. “I figured that since the Empty only holds angels and demons- they wouldn’t be allowed to keep Cas there if he was human. It was much easier to get him out that way.” 

“Well that’s great, but uh… could you maybe give it back?”

“Sure, if Cas wants it back.” Jack turns to face him and offers him the vial. “Here you go!"

Dean looks between the two of them and watches intently as Cas takes the vial from him and pops it open.

“There isn't much left,” he says. “There may not be much of a point. The Shadow mentioned it. They said that in my current state, my Grace will only last me about ten more years.” 

Jack looks away, his smile falling. “I wish I could say they were lying, but they weren’t. Grace typically restores itself over a gradual period of time, but… not yours. Your Grace is dying. I don’t know when, but eventually it’ll be gone. Likely within the next ten years or so. You can preserve it and maybe make it last longer if you don’t use as much, but… I'm afraid it’s inevitable.” 

Cas had mentioned it before- his failing powers, how angels were going extinct and that Heaven was dying. Now that he knows this, Dean feels like even more of an ass for ignoring it and putting it off- especially if it was affecting his well-being. 

“...I’ll take it for now,” Cas finally says. He looks over at Sam and Dean and smiles. “My powers may be failing, but I suppose I can make what little I have left be of some use, even if only for a short time.”

Dean wants to say something, anything- but given that he had ignored it and hadn't paid Cas' words any mind- he doesn’t feel like he has the right to say anything about Cas’ decision. 

Luckily, he doesn’t have to.

“It’s up to you, Cas,” Sam finally says. “Angel or not, you’re family. Whatever decision you make- we’re here for you.” 

Sam had always been better with words.

Cas nods and spares one last look at Dean before tilting the vial up and letting the Grace pour into his open mouth. His eyes glow a bright blue, and both Dean and Sam take that as their warning sign and promptly close their eyes as a blinding flash of light illuminates the room. 

“It’s safe now,” Jack declares after a moment. “You can open your eyes.” 

Dean does just that. Cas doesn’t look any different, but for a split second, he swears that he sees the shadow of Cas’ broken, damaged wings flaring up behind him, and something inside him aches, like a knife has punctured his gut and won’t stop twisting, digging further and further inside with every second that passes. 

Cas turns to Jack and places his hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Jack. Had it not been for you, I…”

Jack shakes his head. “It was nothing. Regardless of what I am now… you raised me. You’re family. And that's what matters more than anything.” A sheepish look crosses his boyish features. “I know that this counts as ‘interfering’, but… I think it’s okay if I only do it a little bit. I don’t really know yet. I’m still working out this whole ‘God’ thing.” 

Cas smiles tenderly. “I could sense it. I could sense that something was different about you. And once we got out of the Empty I knew. You didn’t just defeat Chuck. You’ve taken his place.” 

Jack looks down at the floor bashfully. “Something like that,” he says. “Not much has changed. I mean… I’m stronger now, I guess. But other than that I don’t feel much different. I’m just… me.” 

“I had faith,” Cas tells him. He's practically glowing with pride. “I had faith that you would do great things- me and your mother both did. And we were right.” 

Jack softens at the mention of Kelly. “I hope that one day I can fulfill the vision that my mother had for me. The vision of a better world.” 

“You will,” Cas says firmly. “I know you will. And if this is what you want, Jack- if this is truly what you want to do- then it’s what I want.” 

“...About that… I’ve been doing some thinking, and I thought that… that the only way for me to be a good replacement for Chuck was to stay out of everyone’s lives as much as possible- including yours. I mean- there’s so much I have to do- and it could be eons before everything is fully restored. I have to fix the mistakes that Chuck made because I’m the only one strong enough to do it. But…” He then looks over at Sam and Dean, fixing them with his gaze. “If that means I have to give you guys up… then what was I fighting for all this time? It’s because of you all- my family- that I even got to do this.” He draws in a deep breath. “For me, it really won’t be that long until I see you again. Time… passes differently in Heaven. But if it’s okay with you guys… I’d like to visit sometimes? I promise I’ll come by as much as I can.” 

Dean glances over at Sam, then Cas, then again at Jack- before a huge smile breaks out across his face. He walks right over to him and pulls him into a tight hug. "Of course you can. This is your home too.” 

Sam makes his way over as well, draping his arms over Jack and Dean’s shoulders. “You don’t have to give us up. Come by whenever you want.”

Dean glances over at Cas, who had been watching the scene from the side, smiling but shifting awkwardly on his feet. He rolls his eyes and reaches out, grabs Cas’ tie, and pulls him in close. “Get in here, dumbass.” 

It’s probably the most crowded, uncomfortable hug of Dean’s life. He’s pretty sure Cas is stepping on his foot, Jack is squished right up against his chest- and Sam’s got everyone wrapped in his freakishly long arms.

And he loves every second of it.

“You got a dog?” 

Dean looks over his shoulder and smiles when Miracle comes running in to sniff Cas. “Sure did. Her name’s Miracle. Found her after Chuck wiped out the planet- she was one of the only survivors.” 

“Her name is fitting,” Cas notes as he scratches her ears. 

“Here,” Dean says as he sets a bottle of beer down in front of Cas. “You earned it.” 

“This will do extremely little for me,” he points out, yet he accepts it nonetheless. “But thank you.” 

Dean snickers as he sits down across from him, opening a beer of his own. “That must suck, man. You’ve gotta drink an entire liquor store just to get a buzz.” 

“I find that the ‘hangover’ afterwards is incredibly unpleasant and not worth the short-lived satisfaction of a ‘buzz’,” Cas tells him as he takes a sip. “Then again, as my Grace fades… perhaps that will start to change.” 

“Yeah, um... about that… look Cas,” Dean starts awkwardly, “you told me before that your powers were failing and I totally blew you off. And I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair to you. Even when we were fighting, I should’ve put my crap aside and helped you.” 

“In all fairness, we were in the middle of a battle with the creator of the universe at the time,” Cas says, his smirk morphing into a soft smile. “But it’s fine. I didn’t expect you to drop everything just for that.” 

“I should have,” Dean insists. “I guess I just thought… you’d have more time, you know? At least… I dunno, a century or something.” 

“I thought so too. But we both heard Jack.” 

Dean lowers his head, staring down at his bottle, sliding his thumb over the label. “You sure there’s nothing we can do to help restore it?” he asks. “Can’t Jack fix it?” 

“I don’t know,” Cas says. “But he didn’t offer.” 

“Well- do you want it fixed?” 

“I don’t know,” Cas repeats. “There is a part of me that wants to keep what remains of my Grace. It’s my essence- everything that makes me an angel. And my last experience as a human was… less than pleasant.”

Dean looks away guiltily. “...I still think about that. How much I fucked up by kicking you out when the least I could’ve done was… I don’t know, given you some fucking cash, hooked you up with a place to go-” 

“Dean, you were doing what you had to-” 

“Don’t- don’t make excuses for me,” Dean says lowly. He musters his courage and meets Cas' intense gaze. “Please.” 

“You already apologized. Besides, that was years ago-” 

“Yeah. And in all that time, I still feel like I’ve been the shittiest friend to you. And then after you-” 

Again, he chokes on his words. He still can’t bring himself to say it, no matter how much he knows he should. Cas had spoken his truth- so why was it so hard for him to speak his?

“Dean, listen to me.” Cas catches his eyes again, keeping their gazes locked. “Those things are behind us now. Besides, I haven’t always been the greatest friend to you, either. The memory of betraying you and breaking Sam’s wall still haunts me to this day.” 

Dean wants to argue- but he understands what Cas is getting at, and given how they both were, arguing about it would only be continuing to go in circles, and that's the last thing he wants for either of them. “I just… I guess I’m just having a hard time believing it, man. We’re here. We’re free. You’re here now, and there’s no strings attached- no deals, no cosmic consequences. And now, I just… I don’t know how to feel.” 

“...That’s understandable. But you’ll find your way. Free will has always been what you do best.” 

“I think that’s more you than me,” Dean argues. “You gave up everything for me. Everything. Your Grace might not be failing if you hadn’t-” 

“Did you not hear my last words to you, when Billie was after us?” Cas asks. His tone catches Dean's attention and he finds that Cas looks entirely, completely serious, like he's ready at any given moment- at this very moment- to pour his heart out all over again. “My rebellion was my own choice- as was every decision I made afterwards. My only regrets are the fact that some of my decisions hurt you and Sam. It’s true that there are some things I would’ve done differently- but that’s… that’s normal. Everyone feels that way. But don’t you ever question my rebellion- because even if my Grace is failing, choosing you over Heaven was the greatest decision I ever made. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” 

Dean’s eyes go wide and his heart starts to beat faster as he recalls their last moments before Cas was swept away by the Empty. He’s not an idiot. He knows, deep down, what Cas was really saying to him, no matter how much he'd tried to convince himself otherwise, no matter how much he'd tried to insist that Cas couldn't have possibly meant it in the way he thought he did- the way he wanted him to mean it. He just couldn’t allow himself to think about it, because thinking about it made it real. 

But it is real. It’s so very real. And the only person who ties him to that reality is sitting right across from him- alive. He’s alive and- and if he leaves again then- God, he doesn’t even want to think about what he’ll do.

It’s real. And he has to think about it now, because Cas is sitting right here, and- how can he just do that? Smile and laugh with Dean all carefree like that? Why doesn’t he feel as broken up about this as he does? 

“Cas,” he starts, “listen… about what you said-” 

“Hey! I thought I heard Miracle in here.” 

Dean wants to fucking strangle his brother.

“Hello Sam,” Cas greets. If he was annoyed by Sam's interruption, he certainly didn't show it. “You’re usually asleep at this hour.” 

“Yeah, it's just- these past few days... I don't know, I just haven’t been able to sleep right.” He walks over to the fridge, pulls out a beer, and then sits down next to Dean. “...Uh... am I interrupting something?” 

“No,” Dean says shortly. “Not at all.”

Days pass, and Dean can’t work up the courage to bring it up again. 

He’s not sure why- well, okay- he’s pretty sure he knows why. But what’s even stranger to him is the fact that Cas hasn’t brought it up either. He barely knows how he’s feeling- he can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like for Cas. 

Maybe Cas feels like he doesn’t have to say any more- and if that’s the case, Dean understands. He’s said his piece, and he knows Cas well enough to know that he also doesn’t expect an answer from him.

Again Dean wishes he’d forced himself to get something out while Cas was pouring his fucking heart out to him. Cas doesn’t demand anything from him- even though if Dean was in his position, he’d want some answers. He just seems content enough to be in the bunker again. 

But Dean doesn’t just want him to be content. Cas had mentioned a ‘moment of true happiness’ before. He wants Cas to find that moment without having a deal with a cosmic entity hanging over his head.

A part of him hates that Cas' happiness is attached to him. Because he doesn't bring happiness. The only thing attached to him is death- and Cas himself is proof of that, as well as the countless other friends he's lost along the way that have all died because he dared to care about them, or dared to let them care about him. 

He doesn't think that in his lifetime he'll ever reach a point where he can forgive himself for that, even if Cas forgives him.

He’s not sure what true happiness entails for either of them, or what he wants it to entail. The one thing he does know, however, is that he wants Cas here. He wants to be able to keep fixing what he broke between them. 

He just hopes that Cas will let him. 

But in the meantime, when Dean isn't agonizing over this in his room alone, he decides to try and teach Cas how to do more mundane things- things that he enjoyed doing more than he cared to admit. It gives both of them something to do when they’re not watching movies or TV shows.

“You might become human in the next few years,” he’d said. “It’ll be good for you to be prepared, you know?”

Cas hadn’t responded, but when Dean dragged him along into the kitchen to show him how to do dishes, he watched intently, following Dean’s every movement with his eyes. 

“Always use hot water,” Dean tells him. “Cold water doesn’t kill all the nasty stuff.” He grabs the towel hanging up nearby and tosses it at Cas. “Do me a favor and dry these off for me, would you?” 

Cas nods obediently as Dean hands him a wet plate. “Of course.” 

“And for tough stuff that doesn’t come off real easy- soak it. Fill up the sink, stick it in there, let it sit for a while,” Dean continues as he grabs a dirty bowl. “Oh yeah- and make sure you clean your sponge every now and then. Dishes don’t get clean if you use a gross sponge.” 

“...Should I be taking notes?” Cas asks humorously as Dean hands him a fork. 

Dean turns to look at him, and finds that he’s smiling. He can’t help but smile back. 

“Ha-ha, smartass.” Dean dips his hands back into the sink to grab the last remaining plate. 

“You’re a good teacher,” Cas says sincerely. "Really."

Dean tries to hide the flush sitting high on his cheeks. “Yeah, well… kinda taught Sam everything he knows about, well… everything. Besides his lawyer shit.” He waves a dismissive hand. “That was all Stanford. Although if you were to ask him now about anything he learned there, I doubt he’d remember.” 

“Well, Sam learned from the best.” Cas sets the towel down after he finishes drying. “Thank you. This lesson has been… informative.” 

“Anytime,” Dean says like it’s no big deal. It isn’t, not really- but it feels like it is since it’s Cas. “If you want, you know… after we have meals or whatever, you could help me do this. Get some practice in. But it’s up to you. You don’t have to-” 

“I’d love to,” Cas answers without hesitation. 

“...Really?” 

Cas nods. “Really.”

“...Alright,” Dean says as he shuts the water off. “Next, I’ll teach you how to do the laundry.”

He tries to help Cas adjust. But he and Sam are also making adjustments of their own- learning to live their lives the way they want after years of manipulation and being pulled every which way. It’s as terrifying as it is liberating. 

It’s like being a young adult again- stepping out into the world on your own for the first time without your parents holding your hand. Only in the case of him and Sam- they never had a mother to hold their hands, and their father never cared enough to do that for them. 

He’s not quite sure what true freedom means yet. But as long as he’s got Sam and Cas with him- he thinks he might have a chance at facing it. 

The world didn’t become a paradise just because Jack took over- there are still monsters, still bad people in the world- and they’ll never stop. Monsters will continue to exist long past Dean’s lifetime. Dean has always believed that evil is eternal, and meeting God hadn't changed his mind on that.

Yet if Cas’ Grace is truly fading as fast as he says it is- not even he will live to see how the world changes with Jack in charge.

It doesn’t seem fair to Dean. After all the hell that Cas has been through- does he not deserve to have what was stolen from him? He wishes, more than anything, that he could give Cas his wings back- give him back everything that he lost because of him. 

Cas, however, doesn’t seem as bothered by his predicament as Dean is. Dean knows that, deep down, it has to bother him on some level- but he won’t confide in either of them because, well- he’s Cas. Dean supposes that he can relate to that.

Despite this- despite settling back into everyday life relatively well, Cas is distant. He hasn’t left the bunker, thankfully- but even with Cas living with them, he still feels so far away. Their conversations are short, even when spending time together. He wonders if Cas notices it too, and if he’s as put off by it as Dean is. 

Cas shouldn’t feel like a stranger in his own home. 

And Dean doesn’t think he should have to feel like he’s living with a ghost. 

But the semblance of normalcy that they’ve kept is comfortable. Dean doesn’t want to step out of it. If he ruins everything again, he’ll break- that he’s sure of. 

He’s not gonna fuck this up again. Cas is alive, he’s here- and Dean has a chance to do this right.

Another week passes before Sam decides that he’s had enough of sitting in the bunker, and starts to look for a case. 

Dean, on the other hand, finds their stay-at-home vacation to be refreshing, so when Sam brings it up, Dean is, well… less than enthusiastic. “I mean really, a case? Right now?” he whines. 

Sam shrugs. “Why not? It’d be a good way for us to get out of the bunker for a while. Get some fresh air.”

“Yeah, but why’d you look so excited? I thought you came in here to tell me that you had booked us a flight to Hawaii or something.”

“Dude-” 

“Come on man, we’ve never been to a beach. It’d be fucking awesome.”

“But you hate flying," Sam points out.

...Oh. Right. He’d sort of forgotten about his fear of planes over the years. “...I’d do it for Hawaii,” he says quietly.

Sam chuckles. “Right. Well, honestly, it is kinda weird that we’ve never had a case near a beach,” he admits as he sits down across from Dean. 

“Tragic is more like it.” Dean sighs, internally resigning himself to whatever Sam had in mind. “Alright. Whatcha got?” 

“Well, while I was looking around for jobs, I got in touch with one of Bobby’s old friends- Jason Richards.” 

"Our Bobby?"

"Yup. I don't think the other Bobby has those kind of connections here." 

Dean thinks it over for a moment, trying to recall someone with that name- but he draws a blank. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Did we ever work a case with him?” 

“No. But he said he heard good things about us from Bobby, so he trusts us.” 

Dean smirks. “That’s a first. After we started the apocalypse more than once, I figured most hunters wanted us dead.” 

Sam shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “Oh, they do. I um… got a lot of death threats. While I was calling around.” 

Dean almost wants to laugh. “Figures. But at least Bobby vouched for us.” 

“He did more than just that,” Sam says fondly. “This case- it’s a salt ‘n burn, but it’s gonna be tough. We’re dealing with three ghosts.” 

“Three ghosts?” 

“Yeah, according to Jason. Could be more. He doesn’t have a whole lot of details. But apparently they’re pretty pissed off. They already killed two people- two college kids who were exploring an abandoned house after hearing rumors that it was haunted. There was only one other survivor. Poor guy was scared out of his mind.” 

“Oh. Well that’s just great,” Dean says dryly. “Where at?”

“Minnesota.” 

Dean stands up. “Okay, well we better hit the road soon. I’ll go tell Cas.” 

Sam nods in agreement. “I think it’ll be good if Cas comes along. It’s been a while since we’ve all done a case together.” 

Dean hadn’t really thought about it like that. Perhaps a case would do them all good. Before, when Cas came back from Purgatory, he had mentioned wanting to be a hunter. He wonders if he still holds that desire now that he has the chance to pursue it. 

“Yeah, sure, I’ll tell him to pack a bag- but what about Miracle? We kind of have a dog now.” 

Sam waves a dismissive hand. “Took care of her. Dylan, one of the hunters that was living here a while back ago- he owes me a favor. I called him and asked if he’d be willing to take her for a few days. The guy loves dogs, he's got a whole place full of 'em. She'll be fine." 

Dean makes a mental note to say goodbye to her before they leave. Not bringing her along is for the best- the last thing he wants is his dog getting hurt on a case.

"Alright. To Minnesota we go."

"Dude- you're clearly exhausted. Let me drive so we don't crash and die, please."

"You're tired too," Dean points out. "Besides, we're almost there. We'll be fine- I've driven this thing on less sleep before." 

"I can drive," Cas offers from the backseat. "I don't need sleep- I can take over for the remaining few hours." 

"I got it!" Dean snaps. When an uncomfortable silence follows, he sighs and runs his hand over his face, forcing himself to keep his eyes open and his body alert. "I'll be alright. I can handle it." 

"Then can we go to a motel or something?" Sam asks. 

"Dude, no. I don't know about you, but I've had enough of skeevy motels. Can you believe we went this long without thinking about bed bugs or roaches? I sure as hell am not bringing those nasty fuckers back to the bunker. No, from now on, we're staying in decent hotel rooms, like Holiday Inn or something. We deserve that much." 

Sam's mouth lifts into a smirk. "Since when do you care?"

"Since now. Now quit bitching. We're not that far." 

After a few moments of tense silence, Sam finally sighs, admitting his defeat. "Alright, fine. But pull over up here so I can switch with Cas. I wanna get a nap in before we get there." 

Dean sighs but reluctantly does as Sam asks. Once the car is stopped, Sam and Cas quickly get out and swap places. Dean shoots Sam a glare through the rearview mirror as he gets comfortable in the back- well, as comfortable as he can get, being well over six feet tall. 

And now it’s Cas sitting beside him, and suddenly things feel different. 

After they get back on the road and Sam seems to finally be drifting off to sleep, Dean glances over at Cas occasionally, watching as the different street lights wash over his face every now and then. Despite not technically aging, he looks older, more worn down- not that he minds, of course. Age would suit him well. 

“I haven’t had the chance to say this properly,” Cas starts, “but… thank you. For saving me.” 

“Sam and I didn’t do much,” Dean admits. “Jack was the one who did most of the work.” 

“Still. Thank you,” Cas says earnestly. “I didn’t go to the Empty expecting to come back. But no matter how much I tried to fight it, I always had hope that I would see you again- even if only in my memories.” 

“I don’t know what would’ve happened if Jack hadn’t been there to pull you out,” Dean says. “But I just want you to know that I would never give up on you, okay? I never would’ve left you in there to die.” 

“I’m not sure that there’s any other way you could’ve gotten me out,” Cas tells him. “But thank you.”

Dean hates to think about that- about how he's probably right. About the reality that he'd be living in right now if it weren't for Jack.

He should really send that kid a gift basket or something.

“Look, don't get me wrong Cas, I'm glad you're here, I’ve just been thinking…” Dean starts, “I've been thinking about a lot- about the possibility of you ending up there again. If… if something were to happen to you before your Grace ran out, or even…” 

“That won’t happen,” Cas reassures him. “Not with Jack in charge. I won’t ever be going back Dean, regardless of when I die. That I’m certain of.” 

“When’,” Dean notes. “You never had to worry about that before.” 

Cas sighs and looks out the window, like he was expecting this. “This is something I’ve slowly come to accept over the years. My Grace has been failing for a while.” 

“You’re just going to accept it?” Dean asks incredulously. “Why?” 

“Would you prefer me at full strength?” Cas counters. 

“What- no!" Dean sputters, "I don’t care how strong you are. I’m worried about you. If this isn't what you want, then just tell me. We’ll find a way. We’ll call Jack down here, see what he can do-” 

“Jack might not answer.” 

“Maybe he will.” 

“He’s not at our beck and call, Dean.” 

“So? He said so himself. You’re his family-” 

“I don’t need you to fight my battles,” Cas snaps impatiently.

Dean’s jaw tightens. “...Alright. Fine.” 

There’s all of five seconds of silence before Cas heaves a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend for that to come out the way it did. It’s just… I’ve grown accustomed to this. And I told you before that even now, with my Grace the way it is- I don’t regret falling. I only regret hurting you.” 

“But how can you not?” Dean asks. “Saving me has hurt you- hell, it’s killed you so many times-” 

“Do you regret saving Sam?” 

Dean pauses as he’s faced with the sudden question. “What? No, of course not.” 

“Even though you broke the first seal and kickstarted armageddon?”

Dean’s face heats with shame. “...Yeah,” he says hesitantly. “Why?” 

“Then you should understand how I feel,” Cas says simply.

“You should at least let me try to do this one thing for you,” Dean insists. “After everything you’ve done for me-” 

“I didn’t do what I did for you in the hopes that I would gain something out of it,” Cas pointedly reminds him. 

Dean understands- or at least he likes to think that he does- but no one had ever given up what Cas gave up to be with him- to fight alongside him. 

“I just want you to be okay, Cas,” Dean finally says after a few moments of silence. “And I don’t want you to feel like you have to give up anything else for me. You- you’ve always been enough.” 

More than enough.

“...Thank you Dean,” Cas says. Dean quickly glances at him and finds that he’s smiling widely. The lights from passing cars spill onto him again and the sight of him nearly takes Dean's breath away. “I appreciate that.” 

They ride the rest of the way in content silence. Dean has to resist the urge to grab his hand.

They get to the hotel not long after that. Sam passes out as soon as he walks through the door, flopping unceremoniously onto the bed. He's out like a light shortly after that.

Dean, however, isn't so lucky. He tosses and turns uncomfortably in the motel bed. Maybe it's the mattress, or the blankets, or something else, but regardless- he can't get to sleep. 

After a few hours, he resigns himself to another all-nighter. And with Sam knocked out on one of the beds, Dean takes that as his opportunity to slip outside, walking out to one of the vending machines for a soda. 

“I thought you’d be exhausted.” 

Dean jumps as he turns away from the vending machine to find Cas standing behind him. He'd gotten his own room for the sake of giving Sam and Dean their privacy and allowing them a chance to sleep, though Dean guesses that he shouldn't be surprised to find him out and about at this hour. “Son of a bitch, man. You don’t even fly anymore, yet you still pop up out of nowhere.”

“Sorry. I suppose it’s still an old habit.” He smiles fondly. “If you want I can put you to sleep. You need the rest.” 

“No way, man. I’m good.” Dean turns to finish pushing the buttons. “You don’t need to use your Grace unless it’s an emergency.” 

“Don’t you think I should get the right to choose how to use my Grace?” Cas counters. 

Dean considers it for a moment before he dips down to pick up his soda. “Sure, if you weren’t reckless with it." He stands up again and shoves the soda can in his pocket. "But you are. So no.” 

He’s joking- mostly- but Cas still frowns. “I don’t know how many times I have to say it before you understand. Me losing my Grace wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault.” 

"No, you don’t understand,” Dean says defiantly. “You keep going on and on about how much you did for me- but what about what I’ve done for you? How is any of this fair? Stop reminding me that I’ve been nothing but shitty to you, okay? I’m never gonna be able to make it up to you no matter what I do so just-” 

“Do I have to say it again?” 

Dean abruptly closes his mouth, then opens it again to let out a quiet “What?”

“I’ll tell you again, if you want,” Cas continues. “One of the reasons I didn’t bring it up again was because I thought it would hurt you, or make you uncomfortable. But if you still don't get it, I'll say it again."

“Hold on, wait a second-”

“I love you.” 

The knife that had been in Dean's gut since Cas' return twists again. “Cas-”  

“I love you,” he repeats, boldly stepping closer. “Everything I ever did for you, everything I do now, everything I will do- it’s because I love you.” 

“Don’t say that,” Dean says weakly. He knows he looks like fucking hell- tired as shit- standing under a pale motel light with exhausted, red-rimmed eyes, his nose and the tips of his ears tinged with pink from the chill of the early morning air. But Cas still looks fucking ethereal- and that right there is proof enough for Dean that divinity goes beyond just being an angel. “Don’t say that to me, Cas. Not now.” 

“I’m not saying it because I want to hear it back,” Cas tells him. “I’m saying it because I want you to know.” 

Dean lets out a bitter laugh. He steps closer to Cas- closer than they’ve been in a while- perhaps closer than they've ever been. “...You’re in love with me,” he says. He despises how wobbly his voice sounds.

“Yes.” 

“And I’m supposed to just- just say ‘okay’ and move on?” 

“If that’s what you want.” 

There’s that age-old question again.

“I- I don’t know,” he stammers. “I don’t know what I want.” 

“That’s fine. Just getting to be here with you again- it’s more than I ever could’ve hoped for. Being here with you and Sam- hunting monsters and saving lives. Watching you eat far more than a human should be capable of eating at restaurants. Movie nights at the bunker. That’s my happiness, Dean. A life by your side- as a friend, or a brother, or whatever you want me to-” 

Everything is going so fast, way too fast- Dean's heartbeat, the wind in his ears, Cas' words. He can't take it. He needs it to stop. He just needs it all to stop.

But before he can even think about how to stop it, or how to so much as process what he's doing or what he wants to do, he grabs Cas’ face and shuts him up with what’s probably the clumsiest, most awkward kiss he’s ever given anyone. 

Time doesn't stop. The wind keeps howling and the cars keep driving by. 

And Cas kisses him back.

Despite the uncomfortable angle, Cas melts into him immediately. He accepts Dean so readily and God it feels too much like coming home. 

Why had he ever been taught to hate this? 

He quickly finds that it’s not ‘kissing a guy’ that really bothers him- even though he feels like it should, even though there’s a part of him that screams at him for it. It’s not the feel of Cas’ lips on his that makes him want to run away. It’s the happy sigh that he releases when Cas pulls him closer by his jacket. It’s the way he pours everything into a kiss he hadn’t meant to give. It’s how much he loves being close to Cas in a way he never had before. It's the way Cas' presence is enough to make him not mind the cold quite as much.

It’s the realization that he’s in love with Cas too, and he always has been. 

His eyes snap open, and he abruptly steps back, drawing in several deep breaths. 

He dares to look up and take in Cas' state. His pupils are blown, his chest heaving. He reaches his hand out, trying to draw him back in. “Dean…” 

And all over again, Dean feels himself shutting down, shutting everyone and everything out. He recoils- slides back into the box he'd built around himself at a young age. Because at least he knows it's safe there. “Don’t touch me,” he snaps. 

Cas immediately pulls away, like he'd been burned.

“I- I’m sorry,” he chokes out. He pulls his coat tighter around himself and turns away from Cas. “That was a mistake. I don’t know why I did that.” 

“Dean-” 

He doesn’t let Cas stop him. Because he knows that if he does he’ll give in. He’ll fall right back into that trap. 

He was ruined a long time ago. No sense in ruining Cas too.

The next day comes, and they don’t talk about it. But Cas looks at him differently now, and Dean really wishes he’d stop staring at him with those freakishly large, sad eyes. 

“Looks like we’re dealing with siblings,” Sam says, bringing Dean out of his head. “Check this out.” 

‘MISSING IN MINNESOTA- PARENTS AMONG SUSPECTS FOR THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THREE YOUNG CHILDREN’

“Oh,” Dean says with clear disgust, “that’s… awesome.” 

“It gets worse. Keep reading.” 

“APRIL 16TH, 1988- Parents Victoria and Marcus Flemming deny playing any part in the disappearance of their children, and claim that they went to the children’s rooms to check on them after they went to bed and realized that they were missing. An extensive police investigation found that there were no signs of forced entry to suggest a kidnapping, but a lack of substantial evidence prevented police from pressing any charges against Victoria and Marcus. The children have now been missing for well over a year and have been presumed dead.”

“Our justice system at its finest,” Dean says flatly. “Hey, their folks might still be kicking. You think maybe if we just go shoot them both in the head, that’ll make ‘em stop?” 

“We don’t know for sure that they did it-” 

“Oh come on Sam, in these types of stories it’s always the parents. Don’t you watch any TV?” 

Sam rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Their parents are dead. They died about ten years ago in a car accident.” 

Dean sighs. “Bummer. Alright, so these kids were never found, and the one survivor described the ghosts as children- so I’m guessing the world’s greatest parents hid the bodies somewhere in the abandoned house.” 

“Well, at least with three of us that’ll make things easier,” Sam adds. “We can split up and cover more ground.” 

“Sweet. Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy. Right Cas?” 

Dean turns to look at him- only to find him asleep on one of the beds- and using Dean’s duffel bag as a pillow. 

“That can’t be a good sign,” Sam says grimly. “Angels don’t sleep.” 

Dean agrees. He hasn't seen Cas sleep in years. But for the sake of not worrying Sam further, he brushes it off and shrugs. “The dude’s tired, cut him a break. We’ve still got some daylight left anyway. Let him sleep.” 

But of course- with Sam being Sam- he doesn't let it go. “Have you talked to him about it?” he asks. “About his Grace?” 

“Of course I have,” Dean says defensively. “He doesn’t want to do anything about it. He doesn’t think there’s anything that can be done. I tried to get him to pray to Jack, but he won’t do it." He looks over at Cas again and grumbles "stubborn ass" under his breath.

“Well, he is an angel- he knows more about this stuff. Maybe he’s right. Maybe there’s nothing that can be done.” 

“That’s bullshit,” Dean argues. “Jack is God now. He can do anything. Fixing Cas shouldn’t be a problem, right?” 

“Yeah, but… it’s Cas’ choice, Dean. It’s his Grace. You can’t force him to fix it if he doesn’t want to- and that’s assuming that it’s even possible. Besides, it’s not like he’s going to die if it doesn't get fixed. He’ll just become human.” 

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” Dean argues. “Look, when Cas was human, he had it rough after I… after I kicked him out. He was starving, he had nowhere to sleep- he even got himself killed- and if it hadn’t been for Gadreel-” Dean closes his eyes for a moment, trying to keep himself from reliving the moment when he’d watched April stab Cas. “Those are the memories that Cas has of being human. Being alone. Starving. Homeless. Dying. So if there is any way that I can stop it, I’ll take it. Because Cas has given up too damn much for me and I can’t just sit here and watch him become something that he clearly doesn’t want to be.” 

“...You don’t know that,” Sam says quietly. “You can’t just decide what he wants. That’s not fair.” 

“But how could he possibly want to be like us?” 

“I don’t know- but if he does, then that’s his call.” Sam sighs in frustration, turning to look towards the large hotel window. “I guess I just don’t understand why you’re so against this.” 

“He’s an angel, Sam. He’s one of the last of his kind- and he’s losing his powers because of me. How could I not be against this?”

“You know what? This is exactly your problem, Dean. It was your problem with me, too. You can’t let yourself believe that anyone cares about you, but do you really think that we would’ve stuck around this long if we didn’t care? After everything we’ve been through? We had some rough patches but we always came back to you. We never would have done that if we didn’t care.” 

“Yeah, and look at where that’s gotten the both of you. You gave up your whole life to come hunt monsters with me- and I know I made you feel like you had to stay. And Cas- hell, Cas caring about me is what got him killed!”

Sam’s eyes go wide. “...You never told me that.” 

Realizing that he'd been far too loud, Dean checks back over his shoulder to be sure that Cas is still sleeping, then steps forward, meeting Sam’s curious look. “Yeah. Cas’ deal? With the Empty? His 'moment of happiness'? It was me,” he chokes out, pointing a finger at himself. “It was about me.” 

He watches as the cogs work in Sam’s brain. He can pinpoint the exact moment that he figures it out- Sam's brows are practically touching his hairline by the time he puts it all together. He’s grateful that he doesn’t have to go into further detail. 

“...Holy shit,” he says, voice breathy, “I mean- I had always suspected, but I didn’t want to assume…” 

“Well, congratulations. Now you know.” 

“So that’s why you guys have been so weird around each other,” Sam says, like he’s just figured out fucking Blue’s Clues. “Well- you’ve always been weird around each other, but… let me guess: you just stood there the whole time, right? After Cas confessed? And now that he’s back, things are awkward. Sound about right?” 

“Wait a minute- how’d you know it was Cas who said it?” Dean asks. 

“Because I know you Dean, you’d die before being open about your feelings.” 

Dean hates that he can’t really deny it. 

“Well now I’m really confused,” Sam says. He looks way too sure of himself. “I don’t get why you two are being so weird about this. You know how Cas feels about you, so why are you hesitating?”

“Hesitating?” 

“Yeah- you’re not just gonna leave him hanging like that forever, are you?” 

“I… wait, you mean… hold on-” Dean takes a step back as he attempts to process Sam’s words. There’s so much whirling through his head, so much about why he’s ‘hesitating’ that Sam doesn’t know, yet the only thing he can manage to blurt out is- 

“I’m not gay.”

...Nailed it, Winchester. 

“...Well duh,” Sam says flatly. “Of course you’re not gay.” 

“...Yeah,” Dean says dumbly, now going along with it because, well- he dug himself into this hole. “Definitely not gay.” 

“Right,” Sam agrees, nodding. “But you do know that liking men too doesn't make you gay, right? It’s possible to like both sexes. And technically, Cas is genderless. It's only his vessel that's male-" 

“Okay, college boy, I don’t need Sexuality 101 from you.” Dean sighs loudly. “Look- the best way I can think to describe it is ‘it’s complicated’, alright? I don’t…” 

Dean wants to tell him. It’s sitting on the tip of his tongue. About how other hunters looked at people they even suspected might not fall into what a hunter should be- Sam should know that as well, right? About how his father- their father- was undoubtedly among those very same hunters- and that he had always had a specific mindset about how Dean should be- a mindset that Dean himself had adopted because that was all he knew. It had taken him years to break away from it and he’s still not sure that he’s completely free. He might not ever be.

Dean can admit that this isn't the first gay panic he’s ever had. In the 41 years that he’d been alive, it’s not like the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. He’s had, well… an embarrassingly high amount. Certainly more than Sam. Probably more than most heterosexual guys have. He likes to think that straight guys are allowed to have a few gay panics here and there, because the reality is that some dudes are hot- and you’d have to be blind or willfully ignorant to deny it. Dean is neither of those things. 

Although, the more he thinks about it, the more he wonders about if he can call himself ‘straight’- he’d just kissed his male best friend and liked it. 

Come to think of it- that wasn’t the first time he’s ever kissed a guy either, yet this entire time...

That thought scares him more than it should. He’s a grown adult man- nearly fucking middle-aged- he should be well past the age of questioning this shit, right? 

“...Can we not do this right now?” Dean finally asks. “I haven’t said anything about it because Cas and I have a good thing going, okay? I’m the one who fucked up our relationship. I don’t want to ruin what we have again. I don’t-” Dean pauses as he recalls the venom in his words, the words that had driven Cas away. “I don’t want him to leave again.” 

Then Sam does the thing- he gives him the look. The look that he’d always hated growing up and that he still hates now. He gives him those dewy, puppy dog eyes. He might as well have ‘oh, you poor thing’ tattooed across his forehead.

“Why are you giving me the pity eyes?” Dean asks defensively. 

“I’m not,” Sam argues weakly, trying (and failing) to look away.

“You are. Knock it off. It’s weirding me out.” Dean pushes past Sam and grabs his jacket that was hanging off the chair. 

“Where are you going?” 

“I’m getting some air. I’ll be back before it gets dark so we can torch those bones and go the fuck home. I’m tired of this case already.” 

“Dean, come on-” 

Dean slams the door shut before he can hear any more of Sam running his mouth.

He’s tired. Tired of Sam thinking that he’s some kind of psychoanalyst and that he knows all about Dean’s issues. 

He’s tired of walking on eggshells around Cas. Because as much as he hates to admit it- Sam is right about one thing. A heavy weight looms over him and Cas when they’re alone and Dean knows that it won’t go away at this rate. He also knows that Cas didn’t mean to put that kind of stress on their relationship- he hadn’t expected to be saved, nor did he ask for it. 

Yet in all of this- he hadn’t once considered how Cas felt. Not at all.

He had thought he was saving them. Because to go down that road could only end in misery for the both of them. Whatever remains of Dean is no good- no good for Cas, no good for anyone. 

But now he can’t help but wonder if he’s doing their friendship a disservice by not answering him.

Dean stops at the bench outside and sighs, watching the fog of his breath disappear into the evening air. He’s starting to think that all of this- the way he feels now despite all of the confusion and the hesitance- is something that’s been there for a while. It’s just been buried beneath layers and layers of other unprocessed shit. 

And kissing Cas had only made shit worse. Because he’d liked it- no, he fucking loved it, and he wants nothing more than to kiss him again. 

Why? Why does that have to be so bad? Can he not, just this once… just this one time...

He can hear John Winchester’s voice in his head, clear as a bell-“The world needs you Dean.”

But he’d never asked for any of this. 

John would tell him to suck it up. The Dean Winchester from 20 years ago would tell him to suck it up. But he’s been sucking it up since he was 4 fucking years old, since the day his mother died in that fire, and he’s fucking tired. 

He’s exhausted, actually. 

He looks out towards the setting sun, and prepares to go back inside.

Once they arrive at the house to find the bodies, Dean can tell immediately that something is definitely off with this place.

“Awfully charming, isn’t it?” he remarks, nudging Sam’s arm. Sam merely rolls his eyes and doesn't bother to humor him with an answer.

“We should hurry,” Cas says, brushing past both of them to take the lead. “Before they show up.” 

Dean’s teasing grin abruptly drops, and Sam looks between the two of them, clearly confused. “...Is it just me, or is Cas pissier than usual?” he asks quietly. 

Dean feigns cluelessness- like hell he’s gonna tell Sam that he tried to play tonsil tennis with Cas, or that he hasn't been able to stop thinking about him since he lost him. “Who knows? Cas is always pissy about something.” 

Cas, who was quite a few feet in front of them, suddenly stops at the doorway of the house and sharply turns around to face them. “I am still an angel, you know. If you want to talk about me behind my back, I would recommend doing it at a further distance.” 

Sam looks at the ground guiltily while Dean looks over at the woods, pretending that he’s looking at something interesting. 

Cas just sighs. “...Forget it. Let’s go.”

Sam and Dean exchange looks before nodding at each other and following Cas inside. 

The house is, well- just like any other abandoned house. Filthy, dusty, dilapidated- and creepy as hell. As soon as he stepped inside Dean could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. 

“This house is pretty tiny,” he notes. “It’s more like a cabin, actually. Maybe we won’t have to split up after all.” 

"Yeah, I mean- how did the police miss this place?" Sam asks. "It wasn't all that far from the Flemming house, was it? 

Dean opens his mouth to answer, but closes it again when Cas suddenly walks across the living room over to the tiny hallway.

“The children are this way,” he says, pointing his flashlight down the hallway. “I can sense them.” 

Dean nods and motions for Sam to follow- but after he turns back around, he’s met face to face with a young girl no older than 14, with a bloody nose and ratted brown hair. The girl’s face contorts into a look of pure, unadulterated rage, and before Dean can swing his iron rod at her, the girl tosses him effortlessly, sending him flying across the room and slamming hard into the wall. White hot pain shoots up his back and Dean slides down, a loud groan slipping through his clenched teeth. 

Through his blurred vision he can just barely see Cas slicing through the girl with an iron rod, and she vanishes.

“Dean!” Sam calls out, rushing over to him. He dips down and slips his arm underneath him, hoisting him up. Dean staggers to his feet, searching around the room for any sign of the girl or the other two kids.

“Dean, are you alright?” Cas is in front of him before Dean even realizes he moved. He cups Dean’s face with one hand, inspecting him for any sign of injury. 

“I’m fine,” Dean insists, gently swatting Cas’ hand away. “Back’s a little sore, that’s all.”

Okay, maybe a lot sore- but Cas doesn’t need to know that.

“I can heal it,” Cas offers, raising his glowing hand. 

“I’m alright,” Dean says. “Let’s save the Grace for when you’ll really need it.” 

Cas looks like he wants to argue- but he reluctantly nods and lowers his hand again.

With Sam’s assistance, Dean follows Cas to the back bedroom. He pushes the door open and it creaks loudly, clumps of dust and dirt falling to the floor. Dean's starting to wonder if perhaps they should've brought masks with them.

“Can’t blame these kids for being pissed, you know?” he says idly as they enter the room. “They were so angry for all those years and it just built up. Then they couldn’t take it anymore. Started lashing out.” 

“Wish we could find out who really killed them. See if they’re still alive,” Sam adds. 

“Dude, I’m telling you- totally the parents,” Dean argues. “There was no sign of forced entry- and this cabin is way too close for this all to be a coincidence.” He turns to look over at Cas, who was lurking around in the corner, searching for any sign of where the bodies could be hidden. “Right Cas?” 

“Sure,” Cas answers, without so much as looking at Dean. 

Dean nods. “...See? Cas gets it.”

“You’re probably right,” Sam admits. “I just feel bad for these kids. They didn’t get the justice they deserved.” 

“There’s nothing that can be done for them now,” Cas says grimly. “At this point, burning their bones is doing them a favor.” He pulls the broken twin-sized bed away from the wall before sinking down to his knees.

“I’m guessing the bodies are down there?” Sam asks. 

"Yes. All three of them. They seem to have been placed there in a hurry."

Sam leaves Dean where he’s standing and gets down onto his knees as well to assist him. Luckily with the old, rotting wood it doesn’t take much strength to pull the floorboards up. Once the boards are removed, the room is immediately filled with the familiar stench of rotting flesh. 

They’ve all grown accustomed to the smell over the years. That doesn’t make it any less unpleasant. 

“...They down there?” Dean asks hesitantly.

Sam turns his face away, scrunching his nose in disgust. “Oh yeah, they’re down here alright. Get the salt and the matches out of the bag.” 

Dean digs through the duffel bag they brought along, pulling out the salt, the gas, and the matches- however before he can get it to Sam, both he and Cas are suddenly thrown back across the room. They land together in a large heap against the wall, and the door snaps off of its hinges in response, tumbling to the ground.

This time, it’s the other two- twin boys, and by the looks of it, identical twins. They’re holding hands and their round, bruised faces are cold, devoid of any emotion. Dean knows rationally that they're far beyond saving, but that doesn't stop his heart from aching for them. 

So he does the only thing he can do- he throws salt at them before they can reach Sam and Cas. The boys shoot him a death glare that clearly says ‘you’re next’ before they forcibly disappear.

“...Okay, I'm just gonna hurry this along,” Dean says nervously. “I think I’ve just pissed off some freakishly strong ghost kids.” 

Cas helps Sam get to his feet while Dean pours salt through the hole in the floor, where the corpses of the haphazardly buried children lie. Internally, he sends a little prayer to Jack as he pours the gas and throws the match- and he asks him to get these kids to the afterlife they deserve. 

He hears three distinct, piercing childlike screams- and then dead silence.

“I’m gonna head across the street, see if they got any ice for my shoulder,” Sam says. “You guys want anything?” 

“Get us some snacks,” Dean tells him. “And get the good shit- you know what I like.” 

“So… everything unhealthy. Got it.” Sam nods and heads out the door.

The energy in the room changes, now that it’s just him and Cas. They’ve been sitting at the small table in front of the window for the past hour or so- and Dean can tell that Cas has been waiting for a moment to speak to him without Sam in the room.

“Let me see it.” 

“It’s fine.” 

“Dean-” 

“It’s fine. Let it go.” 

Cas heaves a frustrated sigh. “If you don’t want me to heal it, fine. But please at least let me treat you the human way.” 

He meets Dean’s eyes- those huge fucking eyes- and gives Dean the look that he’s never been able to resist. 

“...Alright,” Dean finally says as he gives in to Cas' demand and walks over to the bed. He hesitantly lifts his shirt up, turns around, and presents his back to him. 

“You’re bleeding,” Cas says. “And you have an… unpleasant-looking bruise.”

“I’m bleeding?” 

“It’s mild, thankfully. You must have been cut by something when the spirit threw you into the wall.” Cas reaches into the first aid kit they’d brought along, and Dean spots him grabbing the peroxide and some cotton balls. 

“This is going to sting,” Cas warns. “But it’s necessary. Bear with me.” 

“Just do it al- fuck!”

“Sorry- I figured it’d be best to just get it over with.” Cas says, not sounding at all apologetic as he dabs the wet cotton ball along his wound. 

Dean hisses through clenched teeth as the sting slowly dies down. “Fuck- I didn’t even feel anything cut me.” 

“That was likely the adrenaline.” Cas reaches for the gauze and the medical tape. “We’ll need to keep an eye on this for the next few days- it’ll have to be cleaned regularly in order to prevent infection.” 

Dean huffs and lowers his shirt once Cas finishes. “Thanks, doc. You gonna write me a prescription next?” 

“Well, if you’d let me heal you-” 

Dean abruptly stands up from the bed. “We’ve had this discussion already, Cas. Let’s not keep going in circles.” 

Cas stands up as well- defiant and so very Cas that it almost makes him smile. “I don’t understand why you’re so insistent on making my choices for me.” 

“It’s my body. I’ll choose when and how it gets healed.” 

“I’m not talking about that and you know it.” 

Dean does know it. Knowing it and admitting it, however, are two very different things. “You can do whatever the fuck you want. I’m not going to stop you.” 

“You don’t mean that,” Cas says. “When I left- I wanted you to stop me, more than anything. And in Purgatory- you told me you wanted to stop me. But I know why you didn’t.” 

“Oh yeah?” Dean challenges, stepping closer. “And why’s that?” 

“Because you’ve been conditioned- your entire life- to believe that everyone around you leaves because of you. So you push them away before that can happen.” 

“Alright, Dr. Phil, that's-” 

“And you think that with your humor and your wit you can hide from it and pretend it doesn’t bother you but I know it does,” Cas continues, not at all intimidated by Dean’s bravado. “And that’s okay. It’s okay that it bothers you.” 

“So what, Cas?!” Dean finally breaks, his voice cracking along with the poorly constructed dam inside him that had been holding everything in for so long. “You just gonna sit here and list out all my problems? I know, okay? I know! I know I’ll never be good enough for you, I know that all I’ve done is fail you, and Sam, and everyone else in my life that’s ever been dumb enough to give a shit about me! You don’t need to fucking remind me, okay?!” 

“You don’t understand,” Cas says, his voice as soft and calm as ever. “I heard you.”

“...You-” Dean chokes out, the boiling anger simmering down to a low heat, “...you what?” 

“While you were talking with Sam,” Cas clarifies. “You assumed I was asleep. I wasn’t.” 

Oh.  

Oh God. 

Dean thinks he’s about to be sick. 

“I should have said something sooner,” Cas regretfully admits, “but we were busy with the case. I thought it could wait until afterwards.” 

“Why didn’t you just say you were awake?” Dean asks. “Did you- were you trying to spy on me?” 

“No- I had no idea you were going to have that conversation with Sam. I truly was attempting to rest- it’s something I’ve been trying to get used to. You're the one who told me that should I choose to be human, I have to adapt.” 

Dean can’t take another fucking second of this. If he’s in the same room as Cas for one more goddamn moment he’s gonna explode.

“If it’s what you want, we can pretend I never heard anything, and go back to normal,” Cas says. “But please don’t make that decision until you’ve heard everything I have to say.” He meets Dean’s eyes. “Please. Just… just hear me out.” 

Dean’s legs shake with the urge to run. But Cas wants him to stay and he doesn’t want to say no to him this time, because he thinks that if he does- he’ll only break them further. So he keeps his feet planted firmly on the floor and nods reluctantly. 

“I understand that you feel responsible for what happened to me as a human. That’s why you want to fix my Grace. But while it’s true that my experience as a human the first time wasn’t pleasant, that doesn’t mean that my view of humanity has become tainted. I faced many hardships while I was human. But I also saw the world differently. I saw just as many beautiful things.” He smiles and it almost looks bashful. “I saw you, for the first time.” 

“...The first time..?” 

Cas nods. “Of course I’ve always known what your face looks like- but that was my first time seeing you without seeing your soul as well. I was just a human being, looking at another human being. It was a moment I’ll never forget.” 

Dean practically melts at the implication of his words. “Cas, I... I don’t wanna be the reason you fall,” he says. “I don’t wanna be the reason you lose everything. I can’t live with that. I just can’t.”

“Losing my powers would be a small price to pay to spend a lifetime on Earth with you.” 

“...No,” Dean says, the anger melting into a twisting agony, heavy in his chest like cooling lava. “No, you don’t mean that. You don’t. You can’t.” 

“I do. Would I have stayed with you this long if I didn’t?” 

“You stayed with me all this time and got jack shit for it.” 

“That’s not true.” Something in Cas’ expression shifts. Earlier he was brimming with confidence- and now he almost seems reluctant. Hesitant. “I never said anything about it after I came back because I thought it would cause you pain or discomfort. But I didn’t realize that you had been hurting so much all this time. I’m sorry.” 

Of course Cas has somehow found a way to shift this back onto himself. “Don’t apologize,” Dean tells him. “I’m not mad at you for saying how you feel. If anything, I’m mad at myself for not saying anything back to you.”

“I’m not expecting you to reciprocate,” Cas says honestly. “Although, I will admit that that kiss did make me… wonder.” 

Dean looks away, forced by the weight of the storm of emotions brewing within him- but mostly by shame. “The kiss was uncalled for. I’m sorry.” 

“I didn’t mind. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.” 

There are a myriad of things that Dean should be saying to him right now. But instead, he just says, “...How long?”

“Long enough," Cas answers, like he's said it a thousand times before. Perhaps he has, in his own way- and Dean was just too blind to see it. 

He instinctually wets his lips and steps closer. “And… if I said… I wanted to kiss you again?”

Cas doesn’t move away from him, which Dean takes as a good sign. “If you’re asking for my permission, then the answer is yes. But you don’t ever need to ask me.” 

This is fucking insane. His brain is yelling at him to abort, to run, to get away now before he gets in too deep- but it’s way too late for that. He’s in so fucking deep he’s drowning. Cas has him- hook, line, and sinker. 

He leans in, raising his hands to grab Cas’ face, when he hears the door click open- and he jumps back faster than he thought was humanly possible. 

Sam looks between the two of them as he steps inside and shuts the door, wearing that annoying shit-eating grin of his. “...Okay, for real this time- am I actually interrupting something, or..?” 

“No,” Cas says, far too quickly to sound innocent. “No. Nothing at all. I was just… looking over Dean’s injuries.” 

Sam doesn’t look like he buys it at all. For a second, Dean almost wishes he had fallen in love with a better liar.

The events in Minnesota go unspoken about for the next week or so. Cas busies himself with house chores and helping other hunters find cases alongside Sam, while Dean spends most of his time in the garage- either cleaning the impala or fixing it up. 

Cas says he’s content like this. Just being whatever Dean needs him to be. But he’s not a tool and Dean knows what he really wants, what he’ll convince himself that he’s okay with not having. He’s done the same thing to himself- forced himself out of wanting something out of a belief that he'll never be able to have it anyway.

But he doesn’t want Cas to have to do that, because they ultimately want the same thing. 

Despite how much a part of him screams at him for it, Dean wants to give it to him. He wants to wake up every morning next to his stupid smiling face and kiss him senseless and make him breakfast. He wants to do all that gross, cringey couple shit that he used to laugh at and call pathetic years ago. 

Truth is, he’s nowhere near as brave as Cas. That’s what it all comes down to, at the end of the day. He’s a goddamn coward. 

He fucked things up with Cassie. With Lisa. Nearly ruined their damn lives- hell, he almost got them killed. Who’s to say he won’t destroy Cas the same way? 

Cas deserves someone who can give him what he wants. 

“Seriously, man, this is starting to get pathetic.” 

Dean doesn’t have to ask to know what Sam’s talking about as he strolls into the garage. “Right. Says the one who hasn’t even called Eileen yet to ask her out on a second date.” 

“...Uh, about that...” Sam says smugly, “I actually just got off the phone with her. That's what I came in here to tell you.” 

This pries Dean’s attention away from the impala’s engine. He'd been begging Sam to reconnect with Eileen ever since Jack restored humankind, and while he'd never pressure his brother into any relationship, he's hoping that this one works out. He already considers Eileen family- and her getting serious with Sam would only further solidify that. “Oh really? And what’d she say?” 

“We’re taking on another case. Together. A werewolf in Vermont.” 

“...Seriously? Already?” Dean gives him a flat, deadpan look. “That’s your idea of a date?” 

Sam shrugs. “She suggested it. We’re taking things slow this time, but if everything goes well… maybe we’ll go on a non-monster related date again.” 

“Alright, that’s my boy!” Dean proudly exclaims, clapping Sam’s shoulder. “I can hear the wedding bells already.” 

“Dude, come on- like I said: slow,” Sam pointedly reminds him. “Anyway. I’m leaving tomorrow, meaning that you and Cas are gonna have the place to yourselves for a few days. So if you two haven’t worked out your crap by then, I’m kicking you both out until you do.” 

He'd been so excited to hear about Sam's blooming relationship with Eileen that he'd almost missed out on the second part of Sam's sentence. If only he'd been so lucky. “Wait, what?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’? I’m leaving you both here- alone- to sort out your issues- and so I can spend time with Eileen. It’s a win-win situation."

“...It’s not that simple,” Dean insists, struggling to come up with an excuse. “It’s… I mean… Cas is…” 

“Dean.” Sam places a comforting hand on his shoulder, silencing his rambling. “Look, whatever it is- it’s not any of my business, and ultimately, whatever decision you make- I’ll respect. But you deserve to be happy. You deserve to have a life. And if Cas makes you happy- don’t run away from it because you’re afraid it won’t work.”

Dean falls silent, finding himself unable to argue further. Sam smiles at him reassuringly, nods, and heads back out of the garage, leaving him alone once more.

The day passes without incident. Cas still doesn't mention anything from Minnesota, and neither does Dean.

But Sam is right about one thing. He has to put an end to this- for his own sake, and for Cas'.

It’s not like he's prepared with a ‘have a deep long conversation about feelings’ plan. But it’s all he’s got. 

Doing this is going to break him. It’ll probably break Cas, too. But it’s what needs to be done- for both of their sakes. Maybe after this, they can finally start to move on. Cas will find someone who can love him the way he deserves to be loved and Dean will pretend that it doesn’t fucking kill him inside.

Cas answers the door when he knocks and immediately welcomes Dean into his room- he doesn’t question him, doesn’t ask what he’s doing there. Dean walks inside, and to break the ice he makes some sort of comment about how this room lacked personality and needed some decorations, and immediately regrets it as soon as it comes out of his mouth.

“I know you didn’t come in here to discuss interior decorating,” Cas says as he shuts the door. “I can sense that you’re distressed. Is everything alright?” 

God, he sounds so… so fucking concerned. How is Dean supposed to look him in the eye and do this to him? 

This isn’t the first time you’ve hurt him like this, his brain reminds him. Just do it. Hurt him the way you hurt everyone else.

Break him. He'll recover, even if you won't.

Do what's best.

Do what's right.

“Cas,” Dean starts out, voice low, “can we… can we talk for a second?” 

“Of course,” Cas says. “What’s the matter?” 

Dean draws in a shaky breath, opens his mouth- preparing to blurt out anything and everything along the lines of "I’ve never loved you like that. I don’t want you. Find someone else."

But the longer he looks at Cas, the more the words just sink deeper and deeper back into his throat. 

He can't tell him the truth, and he can't lie to him either. 

'What the fuck is wrong with me?'

“Dean?” 

“Fuck.” Dean pinches the bridge of his nose and heads towards the door. "Fuck it. I can't fucking do this, sorry I wasted your time-"

Cas follows him and stops him before he can open the door. “Dean, wait. Please don't go. Look, if you’re... if you're forcing yourself to say something- don’t worry about it. You don’t have to say anything.” 

Dean looks over at him helplessly, and doesn't say anything. How can he, with Cas stealing every breath he takes when he looks at him like that?

“I’ve heard that just… just being there is enough,” Cas continues as he leads Dean over to sit with him on the edge of his bed. “Even if no words are exchanged.” 

Yup. Dean is fucked. He can’t do this.

“God,” Dean ducks his head into his hands, running his fingers through his hair, threatening to pull it all out in chunks. “Yeah. Okay. You know what? I came in here to be a total dick and completely nuke our relationship because I thought that was best for both of us,” he blurts out.

Cas doesn't seem all that surprised by the admission. And why would he, after knowing him so well for so long? "...Right. Of course." 

“But then you- you looked at me with that stupid fucking look in your eye just now, and after you said that I remembered just how fucking much I-" 

He stops. The words he so desperately wants to say wait impatiently within him.

And Cas- being Cas- is quick to reassure him. "Dean, it's okay, you don't have to-" 

"Yes I do," Dean interrupts. "I do, okay? Because I... because I owe you that much. You deserve it. I should... I should be able to look you in the eyes and tell you that I..." 

"...It's alright if you don't feel the same," Cas says, "I don't mind. I'm content with whatever you can give me. All I ask is that you don't shut me out. I don't want our relationship to be in ruins because of this. I truly apologize for any hurt I caused you, but I don't regret loving you, or being in love with you. You can't make me do that, Dean. Never." 

It's too much. Dean can feel himself threatening to shut down again. 

But before he can, before he recedes, he pulls Cas in close and presses his mouth to his.

He almost feels like he's pulled Cas down into his world.

It's far more direct and heated than their first kiss. Dean only fumbles for a second at most, and once he has a grip on himself he's far more confident. He dives in, fisting his hand in the fabric of Cas' shirt while his other hand moves to his knee, threatening to slide up his leg.

It would be so easy to lose himself in Cas. So easy, and a truly pleasant experience, or so Dean thinks. 

But Cas doesn't let him. He pulls away from Dean first despite how much it pains him to do so. 

"What do you want from me, Dean?" he asks, now just inches away. "I already told you before. My happiness is you. However I can have you, even if it's not in the way I want."

Dean closes his eyes again, as if it pains him to look at him. He can’t bear to look him in the eyes. "I-I want... I want you," he murmurs, aching to lean in and capture his lips again. "I have lost you too many damn times to keep pushing this shit down. I'm so fucking tired of it, Cas."

Cas doesn't say anything- but he doesn't have to. Dean knows that he's there. He's listening. Waiting. Letting Dean say what he needs to say at his own pace. 

"I want you," he repeats. "I've tried for years to tell myself that it's not true or that I shouldn't. But fuck that. I want you so fucking much. I wanna wake up with you, and go to sleep with you, and I want to kiss you whenever I want. I wanna take you out and do all that stupid gross couple shit with you. I don't- I don't just need you, Cas. I want you."

So there it is. What might possibly be the worst love confession in the history of love confessions. 

“...You love me,” Cas finally says after a few moments of tense silence.

“Cat’s out,” Dean grumbles, still unable to look Cas in the eye. 

“...I had assumed that your interests only lied with women,” Cas admits. “Until you kissed me. I’ve been confused ever since, but I didn’t want to pressure you.” 

“I thought they did too,” Dean admits. “I mean- for a long time I wondered, and you’re not the first person I’ve met that’s made me think about it. You’re not even the first guy I’ve kissed. But I always just thought- they were mistakes, I wasn’t thinking right, or I was drunk- I just came up with excuses. And I forced myself not to think too much about what it might mean- like I do with pretty much everything else in my life, you know?” He chuckles humorlessly.

“...It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Cas says quietly. 

Dean holds up a hand. “Don’t give me the ‘it’s okay to be gay’ speech, Cas. I get it, I really do. It’s just- you didn’t see how other hunters… how my dad…” He stops himself before he can get himself in too deep. “Fuck. I’m sorry. You didn’t ask for all my crap.” 

“It’s alright,” Cas says soothingly, daring to inch closer. “Given your upbringing, I understand. But you are not your father. You’re you.” 

Dean laughs nervously again and moves closer as well- without really commanding his body to do so. “The truth is, I can’t stop thinking about you, and I haven’t been able to stop since the moment you left. Every second after that all I could think about was you. But then… then you came back. And I should’ve walked right up to you then and told you how I felt because you deserved to hear it. But instead everything was weird and I was scared and confused and I didn’t know what to say. I thought it’d be better if I just- stopped it before it started. That way I couldn’t ruin it.” 

“In all fairness, there was a part of me that was afraid as well,” Cas admits. “I meant it when I said that I didn’t need or expect reciprocation- but after I came back, I had to face knowing that you knew. After all these years- you knew about the one thing I had tried so hard to hide. It was just as terrifying as it was freeing.” 

Freeing. Dean can’t deny that despite the hesitation he feels lighter now, like one of the thousand-pound weights that he carries on his back every day has been lifted. 

“I’m still afraid,” Dean confesses. “I’m still afraid that one day I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone. I’m afraid that one day I’ll let my anger take control again and I’ll say something I don’t mean, and I’ll drive you away. I’m afraid that someone- some monster out there- will use you against me.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Cas says firmly. “Not unless you tell me to- and you mean it.” 

“No,” Dean says urgently, like Cas is threatening to leave him right then and there. “No. I’m never gonna make you leave, Cas. Never again. I know I’ve never- never asked you to stay either, but whenever you were gone I was always the one who wanted you here the most.” 

“...Well then ask me,” Cas boldly retorts, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Ask me to stay.” 

Dean can’t help it- he smiles back. Cas' smile is undoubtedly infectious. “Cas, will you stay? With me?” 

The words roll off his tongue so easily now. He almost wonders why he had so much trouble with it before- but he knows exactly why. 

Cas beams- it’s so rare to see him smile like that- big and carefree. “Yes. Of course.” 

Dean's smile only grows, and the terror inside him eases- even if only a little.

Dean kisses him again the next night when he joins him to help with washing the dishes. 

He’s not sure what possesses him to do it- but he does it, and he’s so damn glad he does. He falls into it so easily. Cas smiles against his mouth and brings him back in to kiss him again. 

After that, something in Dean’s mind seems to shift. He’s come to the realization that kissing Cas is something that he can actually do now. And he wants to do it a hell of a lot more. 

His reservations still pop up here and there. It’s not always easy and more often than not he has to distract himself from the bitter memories that pop into his brain at the worst of times. 

But Cas is still there. He hasn’t given up on him. Dean prays that he never will. 

And then the next night, while they’re curled up on the couch, Dean- being the mastermind that he is when it comes to courting- pulls a classic move and yawns, pretending to stretch his arms before letting his left arm slowly move behind Cas to pull him closer. 

Cas looks up at him, amused. “You’re very smooth, Dean.” 

“Just shut up and come here.” 

Cas is more than happy to do so. It’s still overwhelming to have him so close when before it was nothing but a fleeting fantasy- that’s how it had been for years. 

“Is this real?” he asks once the credits of the movie start to roll. “Am I trapped in some djinn dream? Or in some crazy alternate universe?” 

“Would you mind if we were?” Cas asks as he shifts closer to Dean. 

Dean shrugs. “Not sure. I’d definitely have to think about it.” It would certainly make sense if this was some kind of false reality. He’s got popcorn, a good movie, and Cas laying on his shoulder. 

And that’s when it hits him. 

“...Cas.” 

Cas looks up at him. “Yes?” 

“...Are we on a date?” 

Cas gives it some thought for a moment. “I believe this qualifies, yes,” he says after some consideration.

Dean pauses to process his answer before nodding slowly, a grin creeping up on his face. He relaxes back into the couch. “Sweet.”

Sam returns the next day. He’s a little bruised from the hunt- and home a bit earlier than expected- but is otherwise unharmed.

“Everything went fine,” he says later that night over beer and some burgers. “It was actually pretty simple, we didn’t have to do a whole lot of detective work on this one.” 

“Come on man, I don’t care about that.” Dean waves a dismissive hand. “Tell me about you and Eileen! How’d things go with you guys?” 

Sam flushes, smiles, and takes a nervous swig of his beer. “Things… went good. We… killed the werewolf. Together.” 

“And?”

“And that was that.” 

“Don’t lie to me, you look like you’ve been all hopped-up on happy juice since you walked in,” Dean says teasingly as he takes another large bite of his burger.

“You did seem to be in a better mood than usual,” Cas adds. 

Dean nods along in agreement as he swallows. “Exactly. So spill the beans, Sammy. Did you get another date? Maybe you two crazy kids even kissed?” 

Sam laughs and tries to hide his face behind a beer bottle. “Let’s just say, we talked some things out, and… I think a third date is definitely in our future.” 

“Alright!” Dean cheers excitedly. “Maybe this time you’ll do something normal. Like maybe take her to see a movie instead of a monster, you know?” 

Sam glares at him flatly. “Yeah Dean, I’m sure she’d just love to watch a movie she can’t hear.” 

Embarrassed at having forgotten that little detail, Dean shrinks back into himself. “Oh… right. Sorry.” 

Cas shoots a look at Dean before turning his attention to Sam. “Sam, if you’d like I could always help you learn more ASL. I’m fluent in every language.” 

Sam smiles, noticeably brightening at the suggestion. “Yeah, that’d be great Cas. Thanks.”

He then turns to look back at Dean. “You should learn some too. It’ll help you communicate with Eileen better, so she won’t have to read your lips all the time.” 

Dean grins languidly and scoots closer to Cas. “Oh yeah? You gonna teach me, professor?”

Dean watches as Cas smiles back, preparing to respond, but Sam promptly clears his throat, reminding them both of his presence. 

“...So I take it you guys, uh… worked it out,” he says awkwardly.

Dean pauses. He hadn’t really meant to be that bold or open about it quite yet. Of course he was going to tell Sam eventually- he just hadn’t realized that it would end up being quite so soon. 

He doesn't feel all that nervous, though. He knows Sam well enough to know that he has no reason to be anxious.

“...Yeah. We did,” he says proudly. 

Cas looks over at him and smiles widely. Dean ultimately can't resist, and he grabs his hand under the table and relishes in how fucking good it feels after so many years of fighting this. 

“Good,” Sam says. “About time, really. I’m happy for you guys.” 

“What do you mean ‘about time’?” Dean asks defensively. 

“Come on, don’t act like literally everyone else hasn’t noticed for years,” Sam says playfully.

“...Everyone?” Dean asks quietly. 

Sam nods. “Oh yeah. Everyone.”

Dean lets out a defeated sigh. “Guess I should’ve seen that comin’.” 

“Man, speaking of that- Claire’s gonna flip when she finds out,” Sam says through a laugh. When both Dean and Cas shoot him a look, he clears his throat awkwardly and adds, “she uh, she told me a while back she had a feeling about the two of you. Apparently you guys give off ‘intense parent vibes’.”

“Were we really that obvious? Even to her?” 

Sam gives him a look that clearly says ‘do you really want me to answer that?’, and Dean sighs in resignation and takes a long swig of his drink. 

He looks over at Cas, who’s smiling at him while he gently squeezes his hand. 

Dean can’t help but smile back.

Six Months Later

“You’re absolutely certain about this, Cas?” 

Cas nods. “Yes. I’ve had plenty of time to think it over. This is what I want.”

“You sure? Because we can still pray to Jack- ask him to fix you up. He said the last time he was here-” 

“I know,” Cas says, voice full of certainty. “But I’ve made up my mind. I want a life with you.” He then holds up the vial full of swirling, bright blue Grace- and Dean notes that it’s connected to a silver chain. “And I’ve already had Jack assist me.”

Dean ducks his head, shying away the same way he always does when Cas says something that flusters him. “You do know that you’re gonna have to do all that sucky stuff that comes with being human, right? Eating, sleeping-” 

“I’m aware,” Cas says. “I told you Dean- I’ve thought it over. I understand that there are certain luxuries I’ll have to give up. But I believe it’s well worth it.” 

“...But you’re going to die one day,” Dean tells him urgently. “I mean- you’ve never had to worry about that before.”

Cas leans in to cup his cheek, his touch soothing him almost instantly. “After a long life with you. And with Jack handling things upstairs- I have no reason to be afraid anymore. And neither do you.”

“This is…” Dean pauses as he takes a moment to rationalize, to process that this was actually happening, “this is your whole life, Cas, your- your essence. Everything that makes you an angel. And you’re just… giving it up?” 

“I’m not giving it up,” Cas says. He rubs his thumb over Dean's cheek. "I’m giving it to you. Because I trust you- and I know that it’ll be safe with you. And because I want you to have it.” 

“You’d have to be insane to trust me with this,” Dean argues, laughing dryly. “I mean- someone could steal it, or I could lose it, or break it, or-” 

“You won’t,” Cas interrupts, "you won’t. It’ll be fine with you.”

Dean meets his eyes and finds that he’s entirely serious. This isn’t a joke or some sloppy plan constructed at the last minute out of pure desperation. 

This is real. Cas is giving him everything.

Dean closes his eyes for a second as he feels the burn of tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. “Okay,” he finally says. “Okay. If this is really what you want. But if you ever want it back, all you have to do is say so, alright? I’ll give it back- no questions asked.” 

Cas nods. “I can assure you, I don’t think I’ll ever want it back unless I have to take it back. But I appreciate it.” 

He lifts the necklace by the chain and places it around his neck. Dean gently touches the vial and lets out a shaky breath. “Holy shit,” he says. “This is… this is you.” 

Cas smiles. “Yes.” 

Something inside Dean’s chest swells. He looks up again and meets Cas’ eyes. It's refreshing to know that he can look at them now without feeling afraid. Even without the Grace, they’re still incredibly blue- the same striking blue eyes he was met with in that barn all those years ago. 

“I love you.” He gently cups Cas’ face, bringing him closer to press his forehead against his. “I love you so much.” 

He doesn’t say it nearly as often as he should. But as long as Cas is with him, he thinks that maybe one day he could learn to say it without hesitation. 

“I love you too.” Cas pulls Dean in close as the golden-red afternoon light from the setting sun bleeds into the impala through the windows. “More than anything.”