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To say things in the library were tense was an understatement.
Dean is batting 0 for 3 spell ingredients on the internet, apparently some things are too obscure even for google. Sam is frustrated, made obvious by the way he slams a fourth lore book shut and violently slides it across the table towards the first three. Sam leans back in his chair, a furrow in his brow as he thinks, and Dean can feel the inevitable conversation bearing down on them.
“Do you think Cas is okay?”
“He says he is.” Dean closes another useless browser window, half tempted to just chuck the thing across the room.
“After today I’m not so sure.” Sam runs a hand over his jaw, pushing against the table and leaning his chair on its back legs. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just burnt out; seeing shit where there isn’t any to see.”
“Or maybe Donny bashed you harder than you think,” Dean points out.
“Yeah, maybe.” Sam thinks for a moment longer before letting his chair fall back on all fours and grabbing another book. “I know he feels responsible for Jack, but he’s super shaken about Michael, more than I thought he’d be.”
“I don’t know that I blame him, Sam. You saw what it was like over there, hell, just look at how that place changed Bobby.”
“No, I know, but we’ve also got Lucifer loose somewhere and he’s got Anael helping him…” Sam scrubs both hands over his face, sighing heavily. “Is it too much to ask for only one catastrophe at a time?” Dean snorts a bitter laugh at that.
“If fate were only so kind.” Dean closes his laptop and moves it to the side, his eyes dropping to the table and the letters they’d carved into the wood, their mark on history as it were, at least until someone replaced the table.
There should be a C there, he muses, a dull ache creeping into his skull.
“Imma call it, gonna get my four hours.” Dean pushes himself to his feet as Sam grunts in acknowledgment, diving into the next book. He shuffles down the familiar hallway, lost in thought as his feet carry him onward.
It’s not what Cas did that’s bothering him, he realizes. Dean himself has done a hell of a lot worse to people that deserved it less, but it doesn’t make it easier to swallow. Now that everything has settled, he has to admit that Cas was right, without a soul and with the demon tablet juice running through him, Donatello was no different than he was when he had the Mark of Cain. Maybe worse because he didn’t have the benefit of family to beat back his darkness, like Dean had.
They don’t have to like it, but it doesn’t mean what Cas did wasn’t justified.
No, that’s not what was still bothering him about this whole thing.
“Dean?” He looks up to see his feet have carried him to Cas’ bedroom door, the angel reclined on his bed reading a book, the trench coat draped over a chair in the corner. “Is there something you wish to talk about?” Cas puts the book down, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. Apparently Dean’s subconscious wants to take this head on, so he steps inside Cas’ room, closing the door.
“Cas, what the hell happened back there?” Dean keeps the accusation out of his voice, but still Cas immediately closes down, a scowl on his face.
“You’ve done the same, or worse,” he points out.
“Yeah but you haven’t. Not to a human.” Dean runs his fingers over his brow, the headache continuing to creep up on him.
“Why shouldn’t I? Why shouldn’t I protect my family, and this world, the way you have so many times before?” Everything about Cas is defensive, his body language, his voice, and this isn’t going to accomplish anything.
“Because it’s not you.” Dean is struggling to find the words to make Cas understand, to make himself understand.
“I used to be a soldier,” Cas says quietly, not that Dean doesn’t still remember in vivid detail that night in the barn. “Why can’t I be again?”
“Because you’re not that guy anymore, Cas. You’ve changed.”
“You’re right, and then I…” He trails off, but Dean flinches at the reference anyway. “Maybe I’ve been reset, and I’m not really the me you know anymore.”
“Come on, you know that’s not true.” Dean knows this with a certainty, in the way he talks about Jack, in his eyes. Cas shrugs, a human gesture he’s picked up over the years.
“Even so, why does it matter? Donatello was soulless and corrupted by the evil in that tablet-“
“Dammit Cas it matters!” Dean’s headache is transitioning into a whole body ache. Why doesn’t he get it?
“But only when I do it? You, or Sam, doing the same thing is perfectly okay?”
“Cas, come on-“
“Why?” It’s a simple word, but it carries so much meaning that it scares Dean. “Why is it different?” Cas asks again. They’ve gravitated closer to each other, only about a foot apart now. Dean takes a breath, exhaling slowly, trying to parse his words and explain why his heart plummeted to the floor when he saw Donatello’s lifeless body in that chair.
“Cas, I’ve been touched by something truly dark, and I will never escape it.” He flexes his right hand, the ghost of a memory making his skin itch. “And even before that I had a body count a mile long, and yeah, not all of them were necessary.”
“Necessary is a matter of perspective. We all do what we have to, to protect our family.” Cas saying the words our family does something weird to Dean’s stomach.
“You see, most of the time, family is what gets us into this mess,” Dean points out with a sigh.
“I don’t know why you stopped to talk, but I will not apologize for doing what needed to be done.”
“And that scares me, Cas.” Dean’s admission softens Cas’ hard edges, his shoulders relaxing as he looks at Dean curiously.
“Does it? Is it really that much of a surprise to you what a soldier is capable of?”
“It’s not you Cas, hasn’t been you since the apocalypse days.”
“It’s how I was built, Dean.” Cas’ head tilts to the side slightly. “Why won’t you accept that?”
“Because you’re better than that. Better than a mindless soldier.” Dean’s voice is quiet, raw and vulnerable, and it seems he’s finally gotten Cas’ attention. “You care so damn much, Cas, and...and I admire that about you.” He thought that admitting this would be harder than it was turning out to be, but the words are flowing without thought, without struggle, and maybe all he needed was a push. “I wish I cared half as much as you sometimes.”
“I’m trying to prevent war, Dean.” Cas frowns, something like confusion in his brow. “I’m doing what I have to do you don’t have to suffer through that kind of horror and pain.”
“Yeah?” Dean takes a step closer. “You say you’ll do whatever it takes, does that include sacrificing yourself?”
Cas’ eyes turn down and away. “If I must...if I knew you’d be safe.”
“Safe?” Dean laughs, humorless. “Maybe. But I wouldn’t survive.” Cas’ eyes move back to his, and now that the moment of truth is here Dean’s finding his words easily, like all he needed was to simply start talking.
“What do you-“
“You fucking died Cas, right in front of me, and after that I just...shut down.” He can still feel the pain, like a bitter aftertaste in his mouth he hasn’t been able to wash away. “I couldn’t take it. After everything, with Mom and Lucifer...I watched the blade pierce your chest and I just...broke.” Cas’ face softens further, his hand making an aborted movement like he wanted to reach out but couldn’t. “Sam could go on, he had his plans, but all I could see was you lying on the ground, all I could see was the outline of your wings… I can’t do that again.” He swallows hard, hoping Cas is starting to understand. “Because family works both ways, Cas. You say you have to do this to protect me? Well I can’t do this without you.” Cas shifts, he looks almost uncomfortable because of what Dean is saying.
“Dean, stopping this war, saving billions of people- if it takes my life, what’s one life compared to all of them?” He sounds like he’s trying to reassure himself.
“It’s everything, Cas…” Dean pauses. “Earlier, you said you thought you were brought back for a reason.”
“Yes, to stop Michael and Lucifer-“
“And I told you Jack brought you back because we need you.” No that didn’t work the first time. “Maybe it was because… because I want you back. Why can’t that be enough?”
“Dean-“
“I mean it, Cas. No master plan, no mission, just...you and me.” Dean clears his throat. “And Sam, and when we get them back Jack and Mom… our family just doing the job.” There’s a heavy pause, Cas glancing off to the side as he thinks and Dean waits.
“What you said...about doing whatever it takes…”
“Yes, but not if it means losing you…” Dean interrupts his own words.
“You don’t understand, I’m doing this to protect you, so you don’t have to make those hard choices-”
“That’s part of life, Cas.”
“Well, it shouldn’t have to be.” Cas is looking at him again, defiant, like he’s daring Dean to argue with him.
“In a perfect world, maybe.” Dean runs a hand over the back of his neck. “I heard what you said in that room, about letting the people you… love… get hurt.” Cas clenches his jaw but doesn’t say anything. “Losing you hurt like a son of a bitch, Cas. And losing the person you’ve become to the person you were… I can’t watch that happen.”
“Dean, I’m an angel, I’ll always be an angel.”
“Yeah, but you’re also more human than some people I’ve met.” Dean takes another step forward, finally reaching up with his left hand to take hold of Cas’ right arm. It’s his turn to drop his eyes, focusing on the collar of Cas’ dress shirt where it disappears behind his tie. Cas’ adam's apple bobs and Dean swallows hard. “Please...don’t leave me again.”
It’s quiet for a long time. Neither of them move, except Cas raises his hand, mirroring Dean’s motion and taking hold of Dean’s right arm. Dean can’t help but think that he’s waiting for an answer to a question, though he can’t remember asking one. A heavy exhale from Cas finally breaks the silence, and he squeezes Dean’s arm tightly.
“I won’t,” Cas finally answers. “I think...I think I’m starting to understand why it’s always been you.” He almost smiles, and Dean follows the upward curve of his lips up to Cas’ eyes.
“You think so?”
“I do.” Cas’ eyes are gentle as they search Dean’s face. “Dean you know that we have work to do, that this is important.”
“Yeah, I know Cas, but so are you.” Dean takes a deep breath as Cas pulls him closer, his hand moving up from his arm to wrap around his shoulder. Dean again mirrors the motion, the brush of stubble against his cheek as Cas embraces him, and the last bit of tension between them melts away. Cas is going to stay. Cas is going to stay.
They break apart, except for Cas’ hand where he’s intertwined his fingers with Dean’s. He squeezes gently, and Dean nods, squeezing back.
It’s a promise.