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Ever since Cas first started needing sleep, he’s had nightmares. At first it was merely confusing for him – all dreams were – purely because the only prior experience he’d had with them was in dreamwalking. He wasn’t used to non-lucid dreams, to being dragged through the obscure mist of his subconscious, without control or reason.
Now that he’s fully human, the nightmares come thick and fast. Dean’s secretly glad that Cas isn’t dealing with this the Winchester way – by avoiding it entirely and going without sleep as much as possible. Cas sleeps more than any of them, and he had both Dean and Sam convinced for a good few days that it genuinely was because he was making up for millions of years without sleep. Turns out, he’s just really not a morning person, and likes to sleep in as much as possible.
Dean might have gotten over himself when it comes to sleeping with Cas (in the sex way, not the cuddles-and-snoring way), and even telling him that he loves him, but he’s not ready to do anything crazy like hold his hand in public, or admit aloud that they’re in a relationship in front of Sam, or God forbid, actually share a room, a bed, a living space with Cas. That’s new and dangerous territory to Dean, and he’s not… damn it, he’s not brave enough to live with his own damn boyfriend.
Instead, he leaves after sex, makes excuses: he has to go check if he left a light on and then retreats to his own room, pretends like he’s not tired and says he’ll just keep Cas awake, acts like he’s asleep when Cas stops outside Dean’s door at night, so that Cas won’t ask to come in and stay with him. If Cas asked, Dean wouldn’t say no – he’s not that much of a dick – but he’d feel awkward about it, and Cas would hate him for that. Better to stick with things how they are, Dean thinks.
But it’s 3am, and Dean’s wide awake, and he can hear whimpers and cries from along the hall. He knows its Cas (Sam’s nightmares are silent, and anyway, his brother moved rooms to one in a different corridor from Dean and Cas several months ago – apparently Sam knew about them before they did) and it’s not the first time he’s heard Cas cry out from a nightmare. He sounds more distressed than usual though, and as it goes on for what feels like hours, but is probably more like a few minutes, Dean can’t find it in his heart to let it continue.
He shuffles out of bed, puts the bedside lamp on and wraps himself in his Dead Guy robe. Cas is quiet for thirty seconds or so, and then Dean hears a clear “no!” echo through the walls, and he’s out in the corridor like a shot.
It’s dim in the corridor, just one yellow light on in this section, to guide the way to the bathroom if necessary. Dean splays a hand on Cas’ door. “Cas?”
There’s no response, but he hears a whimper from inside. Resolve strengthened, Dean pokes his head through the door, and a sliver of light falls gently over the bed.
Cas is on his back, and he’s kicked off all the covers down to his feet. His left hand is clutched in a pillow and his right is stretched out taut by his side. His whole body radiates tension, and his face is twitching. His eyes dart beneath his lids.
Dean crosses the room, and brushes a hand across Cas’ forehead. He tries to think about how he’d wake Sam or any other hunter up from a nightmare – carefully, cautiously, so as not to incur a violent response upon their abrupt return to wakefulness. But Cas has no knife or gun under his pillow. They’re not far away – only in the nightstand drawer – but Cas told him when he was first gifted this room that he didn’t want to treat it like a temporary shelter, where he wasn’t safe, where he couldn’t relax. If he was permitted to stay, he had said, he wanted to treat it like a real home.
Cas is breathing erratically, and Dean’s indecision evaporates. He sits gingerly on the edge of Cas’ bed, and cups a hand around his cheek. “Cas, hey, come on sweetheart, wake up.”
Cas groans, and his eyes open. “D’n?” he mutters, and he looks up to meet Dean’s gaze.
“Yeah babe, I’m here. Think you had a nightmare.” Dean smiles kindly down at him, and Cas’ clenched hands relax.
“You were gone.” Cas blinks, looks around the room, then back to Dean. His voice cracks a bit, more gravelly than usual. He swallows. “You were gone,” he repeats.
Dean’s heart breaks, just a bit, and he turns so he’s fully sitting on the bed and can hold Cas tightly against his chest. “I’m here. I’m here now.”
Cas sits up a little to lean into him, and brings one arm up around Dean’s shoulders. He buries his face in Dean’s neck, and breathes slowly and shakily for a few minutes. Eventually, Cas lets go to maneuver Dean down next to him. Dean goes easily, and strokes Cas’ cheek until his face smooths out and his breaths come more evenly.
“Do you, uh… do you wanna— tell me what happened?” Dean finally stammers out.
“I think I was… I don’t know. In my dream, my location was familiar to me, but now, I don’t know where I was at all.” He furrows his brow briefly. “You weren’t there with me, but somehow I knew you were dead.”
“Cas…” Dean helplessly presses a kiss to his forehead.
Cas lets Dean pull him in, but continues. “I was away from you, and I couldn’t get to you, and you died because I wasn’t there.” Tears spring to his eyes again, but they don’t fall.
“It’s okay,” and really, Dean can’t think of anything else to say, pressing his mouth to Cas’ hairline; “I’m alive. I’m fine. It was just a dream.”
Cas tilts his head up and kisses him firmly.
“But that won’t happen,” Cas says against his mouth, more to himself than to Dean, “I’ll always be with you to protect you.”
“I can take care of myself, you know,” Dean replies lightly, “you don’t always have to be there to look out for me.”
“I want to be.”
“Babe… One day, you might not wanna be sticking to me like really hot glue, and when that day comes, you gotta know that I’ll be fine.” He doesn’t add ‘like I always am’, because honestly, ‘like he always is’ is pretty damn not-fine. “I love you, but I don’t have to be your responsibility. You’re your own man… angel… you know.”
Cas’ eyes harden. “There is a difference between responsibility from love and responsibility from obligation, Dean. I wish to be beside you, and that will remain true for as long as you will allow it. I thought we were past your attempts to push me away due to your own insecurities.”
Dean squirms. Trust Cas to cut right through the bullshit and straight for the killing blow. “I’m not trying to push you away. I just…”
“Why do you doubt – no – why are you so afraid of the permanence of my affections?” Cas says, and it’s an accusation that cuts Dean to the core.
Dean sighs sadly. “You might not love me forever, Cas.”
Cas narrows his eyes. “I know that I will.”
“You have so much to experience out there, babe… A world of people better suited for you. You’ll get tired of me, and my bad habits… I’ll yell for no reason, and drink too much, and disappear when shit gets hard.”
“I know all of this about you. Will you get tired of me?” Cas asks, and though Dean knows it’s rhetorical, and Cas is proving a point, he responds anyway.
“Never, Cas. You’re it for me.” It shocks Dean to hear himself say it, but the moment the words pass his lips, he knows it’s true.
And it’s so new, so unlike how Dean has been for as long as they’ve known each other, for him to be so open, that Cas can’t help but smile a little at that. “Then you know that I feel the same.”
“I know that just because I’m your first love, doesn’t mean I’ll be your last.”
“I cannot love anyone else in the way I love you.”
“Cas…”
“No. Let me speak.” Cas says sternly, and Dean gets a little excited at the smiting voice, but falls silent as instructed. “When I first realized I loved you, the enormity of my feelings terrified me. You must understand, angels are beings of celestial intent alone. An angel’s focus is absolute. It is why doubt troubles us so. The moment I fell in love with you as an angel, my sole intention, my sole function, became to love you. God charged angels to love humanity as their guardians and guides – a remote, distant love. He asked us to love, knowing the love an angel is capable of, but he thought that without free will, we would continue to serve him. Many of us did.”
Cas shuffles around in the bed, making himself more comfortable, arranging his limbs around Dean’s. It’s a familiar shuffle, and one that reminds Dean of the difference in the being that Castiel was, and the human he is now. But no, even that is wrong – Cas remains himself, even as vessel becomes body, and Grace becomes soul.
“When I began to exercise free will, when you encouraged me to do so, my love for you meant that I chose you over and over. Doubt and love plagued me equally. I believed it to be overwhelming for a human to experience that… focus, from an angel,” Cas continues, “and feared for my status on the mission, and for my position as your primary guide, if I were to reveal how I felt.”
“You- felt that way before you rebelled? Even back then? Man, I thought you rebelled for the good of humanity.” Dean’s tone is teasing, light. His thumb plays softly over Cas’s lower lip. “Now I’m hearing you just couldn’t resist this hot piece of ass.”
Cas rolls his eyes. “I had witnessed all of humanity before, seen every iteration of behavior and speech and relationship… It was nothing compared to experiencing it for myself. I knew humanity from afar. I knew– know- you much more intimately.”
Dean huffs a laugh. “Oh yeah, I’d say you know me pretty intimately at this point.” He leans in to catch Cas’ mouth.
When they break from the kiss, Cas remains close, their foreheads touching. “I discovered, after I became human, the first time, that humans are also capable of great emotion, of great love.” His fingers curl around the back of Dean’s neck. “Your entire beings do not become Love when you feel it, but the vastness of my love as an angel still somehow fit into my soul as a human. It was a revelation. I was, and still am, able to have other purposes and focuses outside of loving you, but the magnitude of the love I hold for you has not diminished.
“You fear that the person you are will drive me away, or that I will tire of you, or find someone new, but there is—” Cas ducks his head a little to force Dean to meet his eyes, “—no other possible being for me. I will love you until I die, and when I die I shall love you until the firmament of Heaven collapses, and each of the fragments of my soul will find each fragment of yours, and we will still be bound together when this universe is reborn. Even then I shall love you.”
Dean holds his gaze until it becomes too much, and he has to press in again to kiss him. It’s a poor substitute for a response, but it’s the only one he can give right now.
After some minutes, they draw apart. Dean’s eyes remain closed as he speaks again. “When we first met, hell, for most of the time we worked together before you rebelled, I thought angels didn’t have feelings. I’m thankful you chose me.”
“I know, Dean.”
Dean is quiet for a long while. They breathe in tandem, and Cas’ eyes slide open and shut, hovering on the edge of sleep again.
Eventually, Dean breaks the silence. “I love you. I don’t… I don’t want you to leave.” Dean says desperately, and wow, trust him to get weepy and clingy when they’re talking about this. “But I don’t know how to keep people around. I’m a fuckup, Cas, and I’ll fuck this up too. Sometimes love isn’t enough to keep two people together, you know?”
Cas cradles his jaw in his hand. “So we work on building a healthy relationship. Learn to talk about our needs. Give each other space when we get angry, and then discuss things when we’re calmer.”
“Go to couples’ counselling?” Dean suggests, with a teary smile.
“If that’s what it takes, yes.” Cas kisses his nose lightly. “Though we may have to find a therapist who has a minor in hunting the supernatural.”
Dean laughs, and the tears spill over even though he’s smiling now.
“Sammy keeps saying I should go to therapy.”
“That could be beneficial for you. You have chronically low self-esteem, a history of alcoholism and self-harm, poor impulse control, and anger management issues. You still have nightmares about Hell and everything else that came after it, and outside of a few moments of high stress, and right now, you refuse to talk to anyone close to you about your problems.”
Dean looks a little taken aback, though Cas continues to stroke Dean’s cheek gently with his thumb to soften the blow. “Jeez, say what you really mean, babe.”
He sees Cas breathe in to respond to his rhetorical statement, and pre-empts his reply. “I know that is what you really meant.”
Cas exhales in mock irritation. “I love you, and I want you to be happy.”
“I’ll think about it.” Dean says eventually.
“Good.” Cas stares unblinking into him, and his eyes are so, so blue. “Perhaps we should practice being more open with each other.”
Cas looks so sincere that Dean suppresses the urge to squirm away or otherwise distract the two of them from this conversation.
“I want you to be comfortable expressing to me what you want and need,” Cas continues, “whether that’s from me, or from our relationship. Could you do that for me?”
Dean breathes in; holds it for a few seconds, wiggles up onto one elbow. He looks down at Cas, steeling himself before speaking. “I want you to stay with me. Here. I mean- not necessarily in this bed, maybe in my bed? It has memory foam and it’s comfortable but- it would be more comfortable with you there.” Dean says, all at once. He adds: “Not just now but… Every night. If you want.”
Cas smiles softly. “This is about what you want, Dean. But, it just so happens that I want that too. I would like to move into your room. I want to leave my books by your bed – by our bed. I want to mix my clothing with yours, and I want to wake up every morning with your disgusting morning breath in my face.”
“Most of the t-shirts you wear are mine anyway,” Dean teases. “And you didn’t mind my morning breath so much the other day…”
Cas lowers his voice, and damn, where did he learn to be intentionally sultry? “There is much you can distract me from with sex, Dean.”
Dean laughs, though a little shiver goes through him nonetheless. It’s too late and he’s too tired to get up to anything right now. “How about we sleep here, and tomorrow we’ll move your stuff into my room.”
A yawn escapes Cas’ mouth then, and he nuzzles into the pillow. “Okay. T’morrow.”
Dean can’t help but let a helpless smile spread across his face at the sight of the love of his life snuggling in for the night, at the thought that he’ll get to see this again and again, maybe forever.
“Love you,” Dean can’t help but say.
Cas opens one heavy-lidded eye. When he speaks, it’s slightly muffled in the pillow. “I love you too, Dean.” He smiles a little, rolls onto his back, and then with open arms; “C’mere.”
Dean wriggles down into the bed, on his side, and rests his head on Cas’ chest. He might end up with a numb arm in the morning, but it’s worth it for the sake of falling asleep to the sound of Cas’ human heart beating. Cas pulls up the covers around the both of them.
When Dean falls asleep, it’s with the knowledge that he never has to do so alone again.
Maybe they’ll both have a lie-in tomorrow.