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The Impala was stiflingly silent beneath the roar of her engine. Dean had invited Cas on the beer run for the sole reason that he couldn't bear to be away from him. Not again. The world was ending and he only had two thoughts whirling around inside the walls of his brain. One, that Cas might make another dumb decision and run off alone to try and do something about it and two, that he and Cas only had mere hours left to be together. Dean didn't want to spend them trapped in the bunker with Crowley, Rowena, and God. A small pang of guilt twisted up underneath his sternum at having left Sam to their devices, but he needed this. Sam would understand if he knew.
Dean didn't know what he wanted to make of this car ride-possibly their final. When he looked over at the angel, his hands were folded primly in his lap. He wanted to reach out and hold them, but he didn’t. When he saw the tense drawn look on his lips, he wanted to kiss it away, but he didn’t. Dean never does these things, though he always wants to. All those years ago, when they had thought it was Cas's final night, Dean had thought he deserved to experience something he never had before. Shouldn't Dean, too, try and give himself that opportunity?
"How you doing? You good? I mean, you know, the whole Lucifer thing."
It was the sort of thing Cas would expect him to ask. Safe.
"I was just…so stupid."
Castiel said the words with more vehemence and shame than Dean expected. He wondered, if the world were to somehow manage to continue, whether the angel would ever learn to embrace his choices for what they were intended to be. Well-intentioned and often times, the only real option.
"No, no, no. It wasn't stupid. You were right. You were right to let Lucifer ride shotgun. Me and Sam wouldn't have done that."
Cas looked at him like he didn’t believe him before turning away with a roll of his eyes. He could feel his stomach clamp down with guilt, because he knew why Cas didn’t believe him. Dean has never shied away from telling him his ideas are terrible. He's too afraid to appear soft, so his friend suffers for it. He suffers for it, too.
"Well it didn't work."
"No, but it was our best shot, and you stepped up."
"I was just trying to help." There was an ounce of pride in his voice now.
"Well, and you do help, Cas. You know I- you know, sometimes me and Sam-" He shouldn't talk about Sam right now. Sam had nothing to do with his repeated attempts to push his best friend away. The truth was that Dean couldn't handle how Cas made him feel. Every moment they spent together made the feelings within him grow exponentially until they were impossible to contain. Usually, he pushed Cas away before they exploded. They were exploding now. "I wish you could be here all the time. Do you realize that?"
When Cas only looked over him in shocked confusion, Dean pulled off the side of the road and shifted into park.
"Please tell me you know that." His voice was hoarse all of a sudden, tight and gruff as his better senses fought his desires to say these words.
Cas shook his head, a bewildered look of confused panic spilling from his wide eyes. "I don't- Why would you- But I'm not-"
He didn't seem capable of completing his thought, but that wasn't necessary. Dean knew he had to fix this. Turning in his seat until he was fully facing his friend, Dean took stock of his thoughts before realizing he shouldn't think at all. Everything that was he and Cas came naturally to him except for his words, because words had always held power. A 'yes' stole his brother away. A demon ensured his family's fate with a 'Do we have a deal?' Words were binding and dangerous and Dean was afraid of them, but now he needed them, and so he stopped thinking and spoke.
"I want you to think of the bunker as home. I want you to think of us as family. I want-I want you to stay because you want to, not because you think we need you to."
"I don't understand, Dean. What purpose is there for me to stay if I'm not needed?"
Dean felt his heart pounding in his ears. He was sure Cas could hear his pulse thrumming inside the empty space of the Impala. He was angry. Angrier than he had ever felt towards Cas before. But in this moment, he could see how misdirected all the anger that had come before had been. He channeled it now into something productive, his voice coming forth gruff and desperate.
"Because I want you there, Cas. I don't need you for anything, but I want you. That's always been how it is, since-since…" Now that he'd said it, he felt the angry confidence flood out of his sails and his shoulders sagged with uncertainty. "Since I don't even know when anymore. But if the world is going to end, you have to know that."
"You…want me."
It wasn't a question and Cas wasn't looking at him. His eyes were directed forward, focused on some imaginary point before him as he puzzled through Dean's words. Dean didn't say anything while Cas thought, though his insides felt as though they were combusting with the effort of patience. He wanted Cas to figure out what he meant on his own. He wanted to know that the angel could think highly enough of himself to come to the correct conclusion. If he didn't, Dean would set him right, but he had faith.
His faith was rewarded when Cas finally turned to face him, bold light shining behind his bright blue eyes. An energy radiated from him now that Dean had not felt since the days when Castiel first met him and he was imbued with the almighty power of belief and trust. This time though, his trust was not in God, but in Dean, and that difference felt minute and giant all at once.
In one swift motion, Cas crossed the no-man's-land in the center of the bench seat and pressed his lips to Dean's cheek. It was fast and gentle and everything Dean's wanted.
"Let's go home." Cas said.