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Dean walked into his bedroom and smiled when he saw Castiel putting away his clothes. He looked so domesticated it was an adorable look on him.
He frowned when he sees the scars on his back, knowing it has only been three months since the angels fell.
He remembers all the things that led to this moment.
Meeting Castiel, rebelling against heaven, stopping the apocalypse, breaking Sam’s wall, the leviathans, purgatory, and Naomi’s mind control and now Metatrons betrayal. Dean’s mind then went back to Hester’s words.
“The touch of you corrupts. When Castiel pulled you out of hell, he was lost.”
The self-loathing in Dean notched up, hating the fact that he had made Castiel fall, Castiel who already went through so much including that mind-fuckering from Naomi. All for him.
A surge of hysteria went through Dean, his thoughts going a mile a minute.
Why was Cas even with him? Why is he with Dean, who has yelled at him, called him names, distrusted him, hurt him? Why the hell is he with Dean of all people?
“Dean?”
Dean’s head shot up, seeing Castiel sitting up on the bed, looking at him in concern.
“Dean, are you alright?”
“Cas…I…”
Dean then lunged himself at Castiel, hugging his torso and burying his face into his lap.
“Fuck, Cas, I am so sorry.” He muttered, “I did this to you…made you fall…you deserve better.”
Castiel stood surmised by Dean’s outburst, but he knew what it was. This has happened before.
“Dean.” He said, stroking his shoulders, “I chose this path. I chose you.”
“But, Cas…” Dean said, remembering the 2014 Castiel, how he stayed with Dean in that post-apocalyptic world and how broken he was.
“I won’t break, Dean.” Castiel whispered, “I won’t break. Have faith, Dean.”
Dean snorted at that, but he was calmed by the soothing touches of his lover.
For once, he felt peace.