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Castiel has sad days.
He’s been through a lot, done many things he regrets and failed to do even more. So sometimes, bad days happen. Sometimes he feels like he doesn’t wanna move even though he does, feels exhausted even though he doesn’t need to sleep and his heart hurts in his chest even though he doesn’t have one.
Cas has sad days.
And there tends to be not much that he can do. He mostly ends up trying to distract himself, throwing himself headfirst into research, or watching a documentary if they happen to have the day off.
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It’s on one of these sad days that he’s finding it hard to do much of anything, his attention span is too short to focus on the television, and he doesn’t have enough energy to work. He finds himself on the couch in the ‘Dean Cave’, staring at the screen as minutes idle by. The door opens, light spilling in from the hallway, but the person lingers in the doorway.
“You good, Cas?” it’s Dean. He’s concerned.
Cas turns away from the TV to look at the hunter and simply nods. They know what it’s like to feel like this, he suspects they feel like this sometimes too, but none of them really know what to do about it.
“I got you something,” Dean admits, sounding slightly embarrassed. “I was waiting til you had one of these spells or whatever. Maybe this is a bad idea, but I thought, I don’t know.” Cas stands, pausing the documentary and walking over to Dean curiously. “I thought it might help.” He admits shyly. He can’t bring himself to meet the angel’s eyes as he holds out a bee plushie. Cas takes it gingerly as if it’s made of glass. “That’s stupid, I know, but when we were younger, I’d do a similar thing for Sam and.. Fuck it, never mind. It’s not like you’re twelve.”
Dean is cut off as Cas lets out a web sob. The hunter’s gaze jerks up from the floor as he immediately starts spewing apologies.
“I love it, Dean,” Cas says, halting Dean’s words halfway out of his mouth
The hunter stares at him in shock, but finds nothing but honestly pooling in seas of blue. He evaluates the state of his friend, taking in the way he squeezes the plushie to his chest - it’s almost too big to fit in his arms - and the way he buries his face in the soft material, letting it soak up the tears.
Wordlessly, he pulls Cas into his arms, holding him firmly there as they stand in the doorway, balanced halfway between a room of dark, and a room of light. Dean isn’t sure how long it lasts, but it’s long enough for Cas to dry himself out, eventually just sagging against Dean, exhausted.
“C’mon,” Dean nudges, guiding the angel back into the Dean Cave, lying on the couch. He pulls Cas on top of him, the plushie squished against their sides, placing a gentle kiss against feathery hair. The documentary resumes, and the door remains open, light streaming in so the glare from the TV isn’t so bright. They lay there, enjoying each other’s company until they fall asleep, clutching the bee plush tight.
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Cas has sad days.
And sometimes, there’s not much he - or anyone else - can do about it. But he has Dean who understands and a bee plushie to keep him company.
So, yeah. Cas has sad days.
But he’s not alone.