Work Text:
The thin layer of snow crunched under Dean’s shoes as he made his way out towards the car. It was late, but he needed to clear his head.
Tensions were higher than ever, what with that whole upcoming apocalypse thing. Dean felt like he couldn’t be inside around Sam and Bobby, not when he knew what he had put them through. And it was his fault, his own fault the whole damned thing started. It took all of his effort to look Sam in the eye on a good day, and today was not a good day. Dean felt like shit, and all he wanted was to be alone.
He started to clear the snow off of his car’s hood, his hands quickly burning from the cold. He knew he probably should’ve gotten gloves, but he no longer cared. It was something to do. And it was productive, which was more than he could say for anything else he had done today.
Once his baby’s windows were clear, he reached into the trunk and pulled out a beer, pleasantly chilled by the South Dakota winter. Popping it open, he took a sip and sighed. The wind was so strong that he almost didn’t hear the woosh of air signaling the arrival of a certain angel.
“Hello, Dean.”
“Cass. Want a beer?”
A pause. The angel was probably weighing the effects of the alcohol on his soul, or something like that. “I shouldn’t.”
Dean held out his own. “It’s the apocalypse, man. Live a little.”
“I’ve been living since the dawn of time.” Castiel said. But he took the beer anyway, downing it faster than a high schooler at a kegger. “It’s cold.”
Dean snorted. “Astute observation.” He pulled another beer out of the trunk for himself, but felt less inclined to drink it now.
“I only say that because you’re human. Hypothermia is a possibility.”
“Appreciate the concern, but I’m not gonna catch it that quick.” Staring at the cloud-covered sky, Dean felt small. His life was just a pinprick in all of human existence, and he had spent most of it messing things up.
“It seems like there’s something on your mind.”
Dean really, really didn’t want to go over it right now. The problem was, Castiel had a face that was just too easy to talk to. He had told Cas more about himself in the last few months than he told most people in years. But Cas was different from most people. Not just that he was an Angel, but he had a willingness to listen, to shoulder the problems of others in his own unique way. Course not all of his problem-solving methods were perfect, but he tried. “It’s nothing. Just thinking too much.”
“And that’s where the alcohol comes in.”
“Pretty much.” Dean offered his beer to Cas again, but the angel shook his head.
“I could drink you out of house and home. Though if you want my opinion, I think you drink too much.”
“Duly noted. But at the end of the day, I’m gonna keep doing it.”
Cas had been staring at Dean intently for quite some time now. It wasn’t unusual, just one of Cas’s little quirks, but there was more concern in his eyes now. As if he were afraid Dean was going to spontaneously combust. “I believe there are places indoors to hide from your problems.”
That pulled a real laugh from Dean. It wasn’t often that Cas said something so clearly human. “Yeah, yeah you’re right. But I like the cold. Makes me feel more alive.”
Cas nodded. “A change of pace from the fires of hell.”
“Exactly. And it’s starting to feel like hell in there right now.”
“Why?”
“It’s like… it’s like we keep going in circles. Sam and Lucifer, me and Michael, the Horsemen. It’s not even an argument anymore, we just say the same shit over and over again hoping it’ll somehow be different. And it never is.” Dean ran a hand along his face, swallowing the anxiety building in his throat with a swig of beer. “I’m just tired of it all, Cas.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could do more.”
“You already do more than enough. It’s nobody’s fault. It just sucks, waking up to the apocalypse every day. I keep thinking that one day I’m gonna wake up and find out this has all just been some terrible dream.” Was that oversharing? Emotions were a burdensome thing, especially in times as stressful as these. And Cas, Cas was having it just as rough as he was, if not worse. “Shit, you don’t wanna hear all this crap. You’re an Angel, not a therapist.”
“Many people find talking to their guardian Angel to be a helpful release of stress. Of course, their guardian Angel rarely talks back, but people don’t seem to care.” It was at that moment that Dean realized the beer had somehow made its way into Castiel’s hands and quickly disappeared. “And if I didn’t want to hear, I would have left by now.”
That was probably true. Cas never stayed anywhere he didn’t want to be. “Thanks, Cas.” Dean thought about getting a third beer, but he was starting to get too cold. The wind had picked up again, and a few glistening snowflakes were falling through the air. “I never asked, why’d you stop by, anyway? Another demon outbreak or something?”
Finally, Cas stopped looking at Dean and turned his attention to the falling snow. “Maybe I just wanted to see how you were doing. It is the apocalypse, after all.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “You never visit without a reason.”
“Checking up on you is a reason. Though, is it so hard to believe I simply wished to visit a friend?”
A friend. Dean didn’t have a lot of those left nowadays. It almost made him want to cry. He tried to conceal his emotions in the fact he was visibly shivering, but knew the angel could probably see through it. In an even more surprising move, Dean found Castiel’s beloved trench coat being draped over his shoulders.
The angel looked wrong without it, especially in the cold, but he didn’t seem at all fazed. “You seemed cold.”
Now Dean really was crying. It was such a show of tenderness, like he hadn’t experienced in years, and it made his pent-up emotions boil over. “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”
Cas, clearly not expecting this burst of emotion, patted Dean on the shoulder. “I hate to say it, but probably still in hell.”
Dean wiped his eyes, trying to repair some of his dignity and make himself seem more stable. “You’re probably right about that one. You’ve saved me in a lot of ways, you know?”
“I do. Or at least, I think I do.”
“But, wait, aren’t you cold without your jacket?”
“I can thermoregulate better than the average human. Though you should probably go inside before this snow gets any worse.”
Dean still didn’t want to go inside. Talking to Cas was just so much easier than dealing with Sam right now. “Eventually. But I’d rather be here right now.”
A few minutes passed, and the snow began to pick up. Dean couldn’t help but notice the way they gathered on Cas’s eyelashes, making him seem… well, angelic. He didn’t quite know how the angel’s “thermoregulation” worked, but the snowflakes stayed longer on his skin than on a normal human’s. He could see the unique patterns of each individual flake, preserved like a fossil.
Whether it took Castiel that long to notice or it had finally gotten weird Dean didn’t know, but Cas finally spoke, “Is there something on my face?”
“No, no. Well, there’s snow, but I was just watching it. It’s kinda pretty when you look at it up close.”
“Hmm. You have an interesting way of looking at the world.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “Do I?”
“You do. It’s not like any angel I’ve met, and not even like any human I’ve met. It’s like… like you’re trying not to see beauty in the world, because you know there’s a chance it’s going to end soon. Like you’re afraid it’ll give you false hope.”
How was Cas always able to read him like that? Was it an angel thing, or was he just that good at getting through Dean’s shell?
“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying this planet as it is. It is my father’s creation, and though it has numerous flaws, it is fundamentally a beautiful place. My time here has taught me that both earth’s nature and people are worth defending.”
“I dunno if I am, after what I’ve done.”
“You are, Dean. You are so worth defending.”
Dean felt warm enough to melt the snow around them, and realized he was blushing terribly. He didn’t know how to respond to the flood of emotions he was feeling now that the levee had broken. Even though the angel wasn’t particularly a hugger, Dean still threw an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. Castiel was cold, as Dean had expected, but warmed in his proximity. It had been a long time since Dean had been this close to another person. He missed it. Missed the feeling of a warm, radiant person beside him. And there was no one more radiant than Cas.
At first, Castiel was stiff, not anticipating such a turn of events. When he realized Dean wasn’t moving, he leaned ever so slightly into Dean’s embrace, and it sent Dean’s heart racing.
“If you’re truly this cold, we can go inside.” Castiel said.
Dean smiled slightly. “That’s not why I’m doing it.”
“I… Oh.” The angel’s eyes widened. “So, unless this is some human tradition I am severely misunderstanding, you are attempting to ‘come on to’ me.”
“In fewer and simpler words, yes.” He would’ve laughed if he weren’t feeling so nervous all of a sudden. “Is, ah, is it working?”
Even though angels weren’t supposed to have emotions, Castiel was certainly feeling them, looking bashful. “It might be.”
“Oh, good. So I don’t seem like a total douche.”
“No. Though, Dean, I must warn you, this is entirely new territory for me. I can’t guarantee I’ll be a good partner, especially not right away.”
That word scared him. Partner. Dean wasn’t the partner kind of guy. Or, he hadn’t been one in the past. The apocalypse had forced him to slow down and focus on what was important, so his trend of one-night stands had vanished nearly overnight. Coincidentally, this started right when a certain angel pulled him out of hell and strolled into his life, so perhaps it wasn’t only because of the apocalypse. “I don’t care. Just be yourself, that’s all I want.”
“I can do that. On one condition.”
Dean couldn’t even begin to imagine what that could be. “Alright, what is it?”
“That we get out of this snow. It’s nearly up to the tops of my shoes.”
That pulled a laugh out of Dean, a real laugh. “Sure, angel.”