Work Text:
Dean didn’t leave when Cas shooed him away. He’d given it the old college try, but he’d only gotten two houses down from Nora’s before pulling over once again and cutting the engine. Cas was going to enjoy a nice evening with a normal human woman, because now Cas was a normal human man. With normal human wants, apparently, if the night with April was any evidence. Wants that Nora was probably going to fill now, if she and Cas really liked each other. Dean just needed to make sure Cas opened the car door for her was all. That’s why he was pulled over.
He sat in the Impala and gripped the steering wheel tightly, hating how his heart pounded in his chest. Hating how he knew he was just going to sit in this seat for the next few hours until Cas returned. Knowing he might drive away alone that night while Cas spent the night here. Dean realized in those few minutes he sat there squeezing the life out of his steering wheel that he hated human Cas. He hated that Metatron had given Cas a soul and made him want things. Mostly, Dean realized, he hated that the things Cas wanted weren’t the things he wanted.
For three minutes and 46 seconds Dean sat two houses up from Nora’s, staring at her front-walk through his rear view mirror and waiting for Cas to lead her to her car. Confusion set in when she finally stepped out through her front door in a pretty dress, slipped into her car and drove off right past Dean. Without Cas. His hands fell from the steering wheel like dead weights at his sides and he felt his palms buzz as blood flow returned to them. Cas wasn’t with her in the car. Cas was still in the house. Cas was alone.
Dean should just drive away. He has a case to work. Besides, Cas had asked him to leave. He wouldn’t want to know Dean had seen whatever had just happened here. Despite this completely sound logic, Dean was opening the Impala door anyway and striding towards Nora’s house on legs that shook beneath him like jelly.
His knuckles rapped on the stained glass of her front door and rocked back and forth on his heels with his hands clasped behind his back as he waited. When the door cracked tentatively open a foot, Dean wasn’t sure what to look at first. Cas’s blue eyes, widened with surprise, or the tiny baby wailing in his arms.
“Dean.” Cas said shortly, his voice a pitch or two higher than Dean was used to.
Suddenly Dean didn’t know what he was supposed to do. What had he planned on saying when he showed back up at the house? ‘Hey Cas, I hung around outside because I couldn’t focus on the case while you were out with someone else.’ Or how about ‘Hey! Just dropping back in because I saw your date leave without you and I decided to come rub it in your face.’ Excellent options, to be sure.
“Um. Hey Cas. I just....” He was cut off when the baby in Cas’s arms let loose a particularly unhappy scream. Her powerful cries seemed to reboot Dean’s brain and without thinking he asked, “Are you babysitting?”
“Yes, apparently.” Cas said in an attempt at his typical, droll honesty, but his tone wasn’t quite right and he was avoiding Dean’s eye. “And I’m doing a terrible job at it.”
Dean hesitated for about two seconds to consider his options before gesturing for Cas to hand the baby over and stepping up into the entryway. The ex-angel passed her into his arms so quickly, Dean almost missed the feeling of his hands on Dean’s forearms. Almost. Except he could never miss even the slightest of touches they shared. He could never miss an opportunity to catalogue the scenario, and the sensation, and the exact length of time his body remained in contact with Cas’s.
He wasn’t sure when he started keeping track of their touches. Most days he was convinced it started before he even realized, during those days when he traced the handprint on his shoulder with terrified and reverent fingertips. Those days back in the beginning when he and Cas were just beginning their tenuous relationship, Dean hadn’t known what to feel about Cas having touched him the way he had. In the first days after rising from hell, Dean hadn’t understood how his body was whole or his soul was intact; one had decayed in the soil and the other had decayed in hell. Yet he had been back on earth whole again. When he learned Cas had put him back together, piece by shredded piece, Dean had expected to feel violated by the invasion, but he has simply felt known. Cas knew him in a way no one else would ever know him and Dean catalogued their touches because sometimes he felt it would be the only way he could know Cas just a fraction as well.
Cas shutting the door behind him with a click of the deadbolt shook Dean from his thoughts and he looked down at the crying baby in his arms.
“When did she start crying?” He asked, deciding the problem at hand was a safe topic to start with.
“The second Nora left.” Cas replied with a defeated sigh. “I tried singing to her, which she liked, but she starts again the second I stop.”
Dean’s stomach clenched at the thought of Cas singing. He’d never heard the angel sing before and somehow the thought of Cas only willingly singing for a tiny, upset baby brought a tiny grin to his face. It fell away, however, when he shifted her in his arms and her head pressed up against his cheek. Her incredibly hot head.
“Jesus, I think she’s got a fever. Alright, Cas you take her for a sec. I’m going to go check in the bathroom and see if Nora’s got a baby thermometer and some Motrin.”
Cas opened his mouth in what looked to Dean like an attempt to argue, but he accepted the offered baby anyway as Dean headed down the hall in search of a medicine cabinet. He found the needed items easily but he stopped as he began stepping back down the hallway and heard Cas’s gruff voice singing “Believe It or Not” from the living room. Admittedly, the ex-angel couldn’t sing very well, but Dean couldn’t help feeling warm listening to his slightly tone deaf rendition. He allowed himself a few more moments to secretly listen before heading back with the thermometer.
“Believe it or not, it’s just m-” Cas broke off the last line when Dean’s heavy boots stepped down on a creaky floorboard. Dean couldn’t be sure with the dim living room lights but he thought he saw a faint flush of pink spread over Cas’s cheeks. Cas had never blushed before and it was a new thing Dean could start cataloguing now that Cas was human.
“‘Just you’ is pretty okay.” Dean said into the sudden silence, his voice uncharacteristically soft. Cas looked up at him uncertainly, the blush spreading to his ears and Dean wondered what that meant. Was Cas only blushing now because he had lost his grace? Or because Metatron had given him a soul? If angels could blush, would Cas have been blushing all along at the little compliments Dean favored him with.
Cas shifted in his spot uncomfortably and made a point of clearing his throat thoroughly before speaking. “Yes. Well…” He trailed off uncertainly as soon as he began speaking before his eyes landed on the thermometer in Dean’s hand. “I don’t know how to use that.”
Dean lifted the device to look at it more closely and saw simple instructions written on the handle.
“I think I can figure it out. Had to take Sam’s temp who knows how many times when he was little.” Upon this revelation, Dean felt the prickle of Cas’s intense gaze bore through him as he stared intently at the thermometer. Cas knew all about his childhood. In fact, Dean felt certain Cas could tell him exactly how many fevers he’d helped Sam through as a child, but Cas never used this information. Other than the occasional reminder when Dean needed it, Cas never openly revealed the extent of his pre-Hell Dean knowledge.
Minutes passed in strangely tense silence as Dean read the instructions and began taking baby Tania’s temperature. The silence continued as the reading revealed a low grade fever of 100.3˚ and Dean gave her a half-dose of infant Motrin. It didn’t abate until Castiel had his back turned while placing the still squirming baby back in her crib.
“77.” His voice was low and hesitant and Dean’s heart hammered in his ears when he heard it.
“W-what?” He stammered in reply. Dean knew exactly what Cas was talking about, but against his better judgement he wanted to hear more. He wanted Cas to reveal just how much he knew.
The angel still wouldn’t turn to face him when he answered, favoring distracting Tania with a fuzzy toy.
“You cared for Sam through 16 fevers and took his temperature 77 times in total over the course of his childhood until he learned to do it himself.” Dean held his breath as Cas finally began turning towards him with painful deliberateness, diligently staring at the floor. “But even then, you still took it when he was sleeping, just to make sure he was doing it right.”
Cas finally looked up at him then and Dean felt exposed under his wise, blue gaze. The weight of Cas revealing his knowledge should have buried Dean deep under his own insecurities, forcing him to hide himself away from being known further, but it didn’t. Tonight, Cas wasn’t the all-knowing angel whom Dean could never equal. Tonight, Cas was human and he knew only what Dean told him and Dean suddenly wished he knew more.
“I didn’t want you to leave, Cas.” He spoke softly, afraid he might spook Cas as if he were a newborn deer. Cas shifted uncomfortably at these words, his forehead wrinkling with uncertainty, but he didn’t look away.
“Then why did you make me?”
“Sam is really sick.” Dean tried to begin, but a lump grew in his throat as he remembered Sam lying in the hospital bed and he couldn’t continue.
Cas took a step forward, the concerned creases deepening. “I don’t understand. Is he alright?”
Dean finally looked away and he shook his head at his feet.
“It was the trials. They practically destroyed him. I prayed for someone to come help and… Do you remember me asking you about Ezekiel?” Cas nodded. “Ezekiel came, but he said he couldn’t help Sam from outside. S-so I tricked Sam into saying yes to him.”
“Dean.” Cas tone sounded like he was trying to be stern but all Dean could hear was pity.
“I have to keep it a secret from Sam, because he would kick Ezekiel out if he knew. But if he does that, he’ll…”
“He’ll die.” Cas finished for him when Dean didn’t continue speaking. Dean nodded. “But what does that have to do with me?”
“You’re an angel beacon, Cas. They keep finding you and it was putting Sam at risk because Zeke had to keep interfering. I barely got by with that story I made up about tricking April into bringing you back to life.”
Cas looked up at him sharply. “April didn’t bring me back?”
Dean shook his head grimly. “I killed her before I even could’ve tried tricking her into it. I thought you were-” He cut himself off abruptly, afraid to reveal what had really happened, but he was being honest tonight, he reminded himself. “I thought you were gone and I couldn’t think straight and I just killed her on the spot. Zeke was able to bring you back, but every time he does that, it prolongs how long he has to stay in Sam.”
Blood pounded in Dean’s ears with miserable intensity as he watched Cas turn slowly away from him and sit heavily on the sofa in the living room. Tania had fallen asleep some time in the last few minutes and the silence in the room squeezed Dean’s chest painfully. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to speak first or not, but nothing he could think to say seemed right.
Why was he here anyway? That was the real question. Cas probably wanted to know, but what was Dean supposed to say? ‘I watched you get stood up for your date and didn’t want you to be alone.’ ‘I drove all the way out here for this weak case just so I could make sure you were okay.’ ‘Watching you leave on a date with someone made my skin crawl.’ Honesty policy or not, no way was Dean saying any of that to Cas. After letting a few more moments of quiet pass, Dean drew a breath to finally say something, anything, but Cas spoke first.
“Can we order dinner?”
That wasn’t what he had expected.
“Oh, um. Sure. I still forget you get hungry now. What are you in the mood for?”
“Burgers.” Cas’s simple reply made Dean chuckle and he felt light for the first time in ages.
“Some things never change.”
He found a place nearby on his phone and turned back towards the living room just as he got to the front door.
“I’ll probably be about half an hour.”
He couldn’t see Cas where he was still sitting on the couch, but Dean imagined the soft smile on his lips as he replied simply with, “Okay, Dean.”
Dean felt jittery as he waited in line at the burger place, eager to return to Nora’s house yet unsure of what he was supposed to do once he got there. He’d spent plenty of nights with Cas- watching movies, reading, playing checkers. But Cas was human now, with human feelings and human reactions and Dean didn’t know how to spend time with him. He felt like his existing catalog of the angel’s likes and dislikes and reactions no longer applied and he felt adrift.
His anxieties were fully justified, it turned out. Cas had selected a movie to watch by the time he returned and Dean rose a skeptical brow at him when he saw the title
“’Contact?’ Isn’t that a little heavy, Cas?”
The ex-angel looked up at him quizzically. “I have no idea how solemn this movie is. I merely thought the premise seemed interesting.”
An indulgent smile crinkled the corners of Dean’s eyes and he shrugged. “Whatever you want Cas. Here’s your burger. Got it well-done for you because I have no idea how good that human immune system of yours is, but I’m not about to test it with E. coli or something.”
“That was very thoughtful of you, Dean.” Cas had turned the lights in the living room down but Dean was certain the angel’s cheeks were pink again as he turned back towards the TV. Dean stood in his spot by the sofa staring at the flush of color until Cas looked back up at him from under his eyelashes. “Are you going to sit down or watch the movie while standing? That option seems rather tiresome.”
“Oh, right. Right. Sitting down.” ‘Damn it, what is wrong with me?’
Turning stiffly, Dean dropped himself into the cushion directly adjacent to Cas’, careful to leave just enough space between them so as to not touch. Not that Dean didn’t want that. Dean’s internal honesty with himself was lightyears ahead of his honesty with Cas. Dean wanted that, but Cas didn’t. After all, Cas had begun this evening with Dean getting him ready for a date with a woman. An uncomplicated, non-hunter woman. Not that it had gone to plan, but that didn’t change the fact of Castiel’s initial intentions
The couch dipped beside him suddenly and Dean watched with a disproportionate amount of disappointment as Cas headed towards the kitchen.
“We need water. These fries are very salty.” Cas returned a moment later with two glassfuls before sitting down beside Dean, very much not taking care to sit only on his cushion. “I don’t know that I like salt…"
Dean didn’t hear him, too focused on how little space he had now. Their shoulders were pressed directly together and when Cas leaned forward to retrieve his burger from the coffee table his knees spread out, bumping into Dean’s and not leaving. They’d sat like this before, many times, but it had usually been Dean’s choice or the result of Cas’s personal space issues. As a human, Cas understood personal space now and was what? Choosing to ignore it?
“Did you hear me, Dean?” Cas’s voice shook him from his distraction.
“Oh sorry, what?” Turning his head to better focus on the other man was a mistake. Cas was right there and Dean could smell the cologne he’d had him put on for the date. Dean’s cologne. The stuff he used for nights he had an itch he needed to scratch. They didn’t happen very often anymore and the bottle sat in the Impala console gathering dust. The smell of Cas wearing his cologne for a date with someone else was not something Dean wanted to catalog.
“You are very distracted this evening.” Cas mused. “I said I don’t think I like salt very much. Would you like the rest of my fries?”
Dean’s ears pinked up at Cas noticing his distraction and the flush grew warmer when he caught Cas glance towards them. “Uh, sure that’d be great, thanks. But don’t count fries out yet. Next time we get you some, I’ll make sure you try them dipped in a vanilla milkshake. That’s when the salt really shines.”
“Next time?” Cas asked quietly, his eyes coming back to focus on Dean’s. The heat building where their knees and shoulders touched was almost too much, but Dean forced himself not to pull away. Tactile honesty was just as important as verbal honesty. He didn’t want Cas thinking he was uncomfortable. Not that he wasn’t, but that wasn’t Cas’s fault.
“Yeah, Cas. Next time. Now let’s start this movie. I want to make sure you can finish it before Nora gets home.” Dean took a bite of his burger to stave off further conversation.
It turned out watching a movie with Castiel was nearly the same as it had always been. His occasional dry commentary on the ‘surprisingly accurate portrayal of interdimensional travel’ and how ‘the communication patterns of the aliens were similar to those that angels use to contact humans’ were so classically him that Dean almost kept forgetting he was human now.
But he was human and Dean could tell. The intense levels of body heat travelling from his body to Dean’s through their points of contact was different enough to keep reminding him of the change. As an angel, Cas had seemed to lack any sort of temperature. Touching him had once felt like nothing but the texture of his coat beneath Dean’s fingers.
Then there was the fidgeting. Where Cas had once sat through an entire movie completely unmoving, now he seemed incapable of staying still for even minutes at a time. He slouched his shoulders and then straightened his posture, clasped his hands in his lap and then supported his head with one arm and rubbed his thigh with the other, crossed his legs, and then pulled them both up on the couch criss-cross style. Dean couldn’t focus on the movie at all in his constant attention to the shifting heat of Cas’s body brushing and pressing against him as he shifted positions.
Was Cas even aware he was doing this? Could Cas feel the difference between this movie and all the rest? Did he notice how hard Dean was trying to stay calm and not startle at his surprising movements. Dean realized halfway through that he wanted Cas to be aware of his actions and their effect on Dean. When Cas next sat with this legs folded on the couch, his knee falling atop Dean’s, Dean spread his knees wider, pressing his leg further beneath Cas’s. His heart thundered as he felt Cas stiffen beside him and even from the corner of his vision Dean could see Cas’s chest had ceased rising and falling as he held his breath. Dean wasn’t certain what was supposed to happen next but he continued to watch the movie as he had been. Sure, enough Cas relaxed after an extended period of now-uncharacteristic stillness, but his movements were more deliberate now, and Dean felt sure that he was thinking them through. This time when Cas placed his hands in his lap, his arms were more relaxed and his elbow fell into the crook of Dean’s arm. When he adjusted his legs, he only moved the left, leaving the right to fold more heavily onto Dean’s thigh.
What was happening? Dean couldn’t say for sure he actually knew what he wanted to happen in this moment. True, he knew what he wanted were the situation completely uncomplicated. He would wrap his arm around Cas’s shoulder and pull him over until his shoulder leaned against Dean’s chest. His hair would tickle Dean’s chin as he leaned his head into the crook of his neck and Dean’s free hand would rub soft circles into the hand on his lap.
But he couldn’t do that. Though he only had Lisa for evidence of this, major life events were not good times to begin a relationship. While he had needed her and she’d provided him comfort and family, he hadn’t been capable of keeping his mess out of the process and it had ruined the joy he’d made for himself. He couldn’t risk starting something with Cas and ruining it because they weren’t ready.
These thoughts all banked on the assumption that Cas wanted a relationship with him, of course. Dean had no way of knowing what Cas wanted, but he knew that he didn’t want to trouble Cas with his feelings in the middle of his adjustment to human life. An adjustment he had to make on his own because Dean couldn’t be with him in the first place right now. And really how could Dean expect him to want that from Dean anyway, when Dean had abandoned him to his own poorly developed devices.
The oppressive heat of Cas’s thigh on his overwhelmed him suddenly as these thoughts clogged his mind and Dean tugged his leg away to stand.
“I have to use the bathroom. Don’t have to stop it.” He said gruffly, refusing to look directly at the stricken look on Cas’s face that he could see in his periphery.
He didn’t have to use the bathroom, except to try and desperately stop crying. The angel could tell Dean was distracted which meant that he would definitely be able to tell that Dean was falling apart in the seat next to him. Dean hadn’t known what his plan was going to be when he’d walked up to Nora’s front door, but Cas was going to have a good evening, of that much Dean had been resolute. Dean needed a smile on Cas’s face that he could catalogue. A smile that wasn’t out of relief that he had shelter or offered under the false assumption that Dean would keep him safe. Dean would make certain that Castiel was happy.
As he stepped out of the bathroom he felt the need to return without empty hands.
“Do you want anything from the kitchen?” He called towards the living room, hoping his voice sounded warm rather than desperate.
“There are some chips in there Nora said I could have.” Castiel replied.
“You know these are salty right?” Dean asked as walked back into the living room. His heart swelled at the tiny grin Castiel delivered with a chuckle
“Yes, but they’re also cheesy.” He answered, as though that explained the hypocrisy. It actually did, really, once Dean thought about it.
“You’re prioritization of cheese over all else is admirable.”
Castiel grabbed the offered bag as Dean returned to his seat next to him, trying not to concern himself over the lack of space he was leaving. If Cas had wanted that, Dean would provide it.
“It makes me wish I could have been human during more of our cases in Wisconsin. We seem to end up there quite often.”
Dean watched Cas’s face carefully after this comment, unsure how the ex-angel would react once he realized once he’d just said. When he saw the wry smile on the man’s face, however, he realized something and his eyes widened in surprise.
“Was that a joke? Are you cracking falling jokes?"
Cas looked at him earnestly but favored eating a cheese puff over answering immediately. Dean watched his thoughtful features as he chewed and he wondered if Cas were thinking more about the answer to his question or the flavor of the chip.
Once he’d finished chewing and swallowed he turned towards Dean and answered simply, “I suppose I am.”
Dean watched him a moment longer as Cas turned back to the movie before grabbing himself a few puffs and bending his legs up onto the couch and pressing one of his socked feet under Cas’s thigh
It was easier than he expected to concentrate on the remainder of the movie after realizing how at ease Cas truly was at the moment. Their touches were gentle and casual but Dean learned them all, memorizing the heat of Cas’s human body and the sight of goosebumps on his forearms. He also catalogued what he had done to make those goosebumps appear. Cas liked having Dean’s feet tucked under his legs, he liked when they went to grab chips at the same time and their hands touched, he liked when Dean complimented him. Dean needed to compliment him more.
~~~~~~~~
“Will you tell me something about you I don’t know?” Dean asked when the movie ended. They had sat through the credits in silence, because Cas felt it was important to give every member of the production due credit. Dean had leaned back against the sofa and placed his arm across the top of the cushions and watched as Cas leaned his elbows on his knees and read the credits studiously. Now they were done and Nora would be home soon and he needed to know.
“What do you mean?” Cas asked, his brow crinkling in confusion as he craned his neck to look back at the hunter.
“I mean, you know everything about me. You know my entire life up till when you pulled me outta Hell and you know pretty much everything else about me since then.”
“I’m not omniscient, Dean. Even when I was an angel. I don’t know everything.”
“Yeah, I know, but you have to know what I mean, right, Cas? I know about your garrison and some of the beings you’ve met and stuff but I don’t know much about you. From before we met, I mean.”
He watched Cas ponder this for a few moments, finding himself fixated on his lips as they pursed in thought. Sudden realization struck Dean that Cas could age now. Cas would never look exactly as he did today ever again and knowing he was going to have to leave the angel behind, the urge to memorize each of his features perfectly was overpowering.
“Are you familiar with the Chinese zodiac, Dean?” Cas’s question broke him from his hypnosis and he noticed the angel’s pursed lips were now forming words and Dean turned his gaze to Cas’s eyes as he turned towards him.
“Huh?"
“The Chinese zodiac.” Cas repeated patiently, seemingly having accepted that Dean’s focus was divided this evening. “Are you familiar with its origins?”
Dean couldn’t understand the logic behind this train of thought but Cas never said anything without purpose, so he bit.
“Uh, I know the real basics, but not much, no. Why?”
As Cas began speaking, he stayed staunchly positioned toward the television. It was as if he could only tolerate revealing this part of himself if he pretended he was speaking to no one.
“About 4600 years ago, I occupied the vessel of a young woman named Liu Meng Ting. She was not a God-believing woman but she agreed to my presence when I promised to heal her ailing child. The Jade Emperor, one of several Chinese deities, had organized a race between various creatures of the land to celebrate his birthday and give an order to the flow of time. God did not want this, as he felt the Chinese deities were too numerous and too powerful, fueled by the loyal and generous offerings of the country’s people. Indeed, they had achieved peace with even the dragons, a feat God never managed. Anyway, I was assigned to intervene in this race and prevent it from coming to pass by smiting the creatures involved.”
“Hold up. You can smite dragons? Since when?”
Cas looked rueful at this. “Well, I can’t. I was to smite the 11 mortal creatures and declare the dragon’s victory a sign of God’s omnipotence. Even though, as you know, he did not create them.” Cas threw a cheeky grin in Dean’s direction as he reminded him of this information, as though he still reveled in these tiny moments of rebellion. Dean felt his stomach squirm at the tiny expression of joy. He wasn’t sure he would ever believe Cas had the happiness he deserved in life and Dean was reminded a second time that night that he was the primary obstacle on that path. He knew his expression must have darkened with his thoughts when Castiel’s grin dropped and he squinted in concern.
“What’s the matter? Is this story not what you asked for? I can try another.” Cas’s perseverant concern for Dean’s well-being over all else never failed to frustrate Dean and he could never understand what inspired it.
“No, no. It’s not the story. I want to hear it.”
“Then what is it?” Castiel prodded when Dean didn’t continue.
Dean placed his cup on the coffee table and turned on the sofa to face Cas. He looked up at the angel to find his burning blue eyes focused on Dean with so much intensity Dean couldn’t bring himself to meet them, so he dropped his gaze to the hands in his lap.
“Are you happy?"
Castiel took a moment to answer. “In what way?”
“Well-“ Dean floundered when he realized he wasn’t sure if Cas knew what he meant. “Do you know what happiness is?”
“I believe so. It’s different as an angel than as a human. Angels derive pleasure from fulfilling their duty. We experience it as a sense of all being right.” Castiel tipped his head at Dean as though seeking confirmation that this explanation made sense. Dean nodded. “As a human, happiness is much different. You can’t accomplish it by doing the right things. And it does not seem as though you are always in control of your own happiness.”
Dean released a dry huff of laughter at the astute observation but he felt his mood further dampen at the implications of Cas’s words.
“I believed humans found happiness by fulfilling their own personal goals and taking satisfaction in that accomplishment, but it seems that is not enough.” He grew quiet the longer he spoke, as if afraid to continue.
“Cas?” Dean asked softly, afraid to frighten the angel out of completing his thought.
“My purpose as an angel was never my own. It was God’s and then it was yours and I was happy to serve your purpose, but only if I could serve it with you.” Cas fell silent for a while but Dean didn’t prod him to finish. He knew what Cas was saying even if he didn’t want to. The air in the room was heavy and dark, and the space between them on the couch felt like a chasm the size of an angel currently healing his brother.
When Cas spoke again he had returned to his story and Dean clung to every word, hoping the angel had not fully abandoned his previous train of thought. “When I saw the rat approaching the finish line, I could feel the joy in its achievement. I knew its cleverness in riding the ox across the river, and its treachery in deceiving the cat, and its ambition to win above all else, but mostly I knew its joy. I could not kill that joy. God had created that capacity for joy and while I could not feel it myself, I could love and protect it. And so I did and I let the race run to completion without interference. I believe that must be one of the many times Naomi has reprogrammed me.”
Dean waited a while longer to see if Cas would return to his talk of happiness, but Cas looked at him with such clarity in his face that Dean was certain he had missed something.
“I don’t understand.” He said dumbly.
“I could not smite those creatures that God had created. They were simply living life as they were intended.” Cas closed his eyes in thought before turning his gaze on Dean once more and speaking with deliberate care. “My true joy lies in my ability to choose and I had chosen, but- you took my choice away.”
Cas’s raw voice tore gashes through Dean’s core and he felt their painful heat envelope him with guilt. Tonight was supposed to be about making Cas happy, or at least Dean had eventually decided it would be, but now Cas was simply reinforcing his sadness. He bowed his head and clamped his eyes shut with so much force bright lights filled his vision in place of Cas’s pained face. Dean focused on them as he tried to formulate a response but nothing came to him and he wasn’t sure how long Cas let him sit there before his familiar hand was squeezing his shoulder.
“But Dean, now I know you didn’t have a choice either.” Dean opened his stinging eyes at this and found Cas watching him warmly, their faces close. “It is not your actions that have made me unhappy, but our situation. We value choice above all else and in this situation we have very little. I wasn’t happy, Dean, because I thought you didn’t want me now that I’m human. Now I’m unhappy for an entirely different, yet far more tolerable, reason.”
Dean reached out and pressed his hand to Castiel’s opposite shoulder, creating a sort of cage to hold them close. Did Cas really think he didn’t want him because he was human? It seemed an impossible thought to Dean, to care about whether Cas had powers or not. Looking only a fraction more closely, however, he could see the pure, horrific logic of it and his face cracked into a sad smile.
“Cursed or not.” He finally replied hoarsely. Cas cocked his head in confusion and Dean pressed on with a shaky breath. “It doesn’t matter what state you’re in, Cas, I’d always rather have you with me. And you better keep that phone charged, because the second Sammy is better and Ezekiel is gone I’m calling and coming to get you.”
“I will never unplug it from the outlet, Dean.”
The smile that finally folded wrinkles into Cas’s eyes forced a relieved bark of laughter out of Dean’s chest. He slid his arm past Cas’s shoulder and around his back, pulling him into as tight a hug as he could manage from their awkward positions on the couch. The angel met his embrace with equal force and Dean buried his face into the crook of his neck, doing his best to memorize the scent of human Cas beneath his cologne. It still held that charged energy he’d always felt in Cas as an angel, and Dean wondered if his grace hadn’t burned something permanently special into his skin.
Without thinking, he shifted his head up slightly and pressed barely parted lips to Cas’s skin where his collar had fallen open. He couldn’t do more, not with Cas as he was, but Dean knew they were parting on different footing than they’d stood upon before. The arms around him tightened, pressing his lips more firmly into the warm skin beneath them and Dean felt a ragged breath escape him as he knew they would have to part too soon.
They didn’t have a choice.