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Dean was angry with him. Well… he was always angry with him lately but that wasn’t the point. The point was, this time, it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t ask for the memories to resurface. He didn’t ask for the past to come back to haunt them. He didn’t. Staring down at the green liquid Cas frowned as he swished it around the glass.
He shouldn’t have said anything about it. He shouldn’t have-- “Are you just going to ignore me now?” There was a distinct bite to his tone that would have had Cas on edge had he cared more. Rolling his eyes he tipped back the rest of his drink. It burned on the way down but he didn’t care anymore. "Care to share with the class what's going on in that head of yours?" It was a good burn. It helped him forget about the dark, crumbling feather laying on the table between them. It helped him forget why it was so important to keep this from Dean. “Fucking look at me, Cas!”
Jaw clenched, Cas finally jerked his head up and glared at the hunter. “What the fuck do you want me to say, Dean?” He hissed, voice crackling with waning power. Power he couldn’t use anymore. He grabbed the absinthe bottle and forwent his glass to just drink straight from the top.
“I don’t know, Cas, sorry maybe?” Dean spat back, kicking the other chair and sending it flying across the room. Cas choked out a forced laugh as the alcohol burned his throat. He slammed the bottle down and shoved away from the table.
“Sorry? Why the fuck should I apologize to you?” He demanded, hands balling into fists on the edge of the table. The anger was rolling off of him in waves and he knew Dean could feel it. He didn’t care though. It was his Grace that was failing. It was his wings that were disintegrating. His wings that were… were falling out. His shoulders slumped forward at the thought. He was falling apart.
Across from him Dean let his arms fall from where they were crossed over his chest with a long low sigh. “I could have helped you, Cas. I could have done something.” He reached out and opened a clenched fist, letting the crushed downy feather fall to the table. “I should have helped you.” It was barely a whisper and for some reason it only made Cas angrier.
“And this is why I didn’t tell you!” He screamed, voice cracking as it pitched higher in frustration. Kicking the chair back he stood and stormed away from the table. He could hear the glass bottle clink as it tipped over and then scrambling as he assumed Dean was trying to collect the feather before the alcohol ruined it more. He paced back and forth between the beds, fingers twitching at his sides.
He shouldn’t have told Dean about the feathers. About the trail he’d been accidentally leaving around. He shouldn’t have mentioned any of it. He should have picked them up and burnt them. He should have-- a hand coming to rest on his shoulder made him freeze. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
There was a knot in his throat and his heart ached but he stopped to look at the ground. “Because there’s nothing you can do, Dean. What’s happening is going to happen. There is no stopping it.” Turning slowly, Cas lifted his gaze to where Dean was once again holding the burnt foot long feather. Reaching up he trailed two fingers over the edge with a distant, sad look in his eyes. “I didn’t want you blaming yourself.”
Dean let go of the feather, letting it slip through his fingers to flutter to the floor. He brought his hand up instead to rest against Cas’s cheek. “I’m always going to blame myself, Cas, you know that.” His thumb brushed over one cheekbone and he sighed.
Closing his eyes Cas leaned into the touch without a thought. “I’ve been cut off from Heaven. My Grace is all but gone. Of course my wings would go as well. This has nothing to do with you.” They both knew it was a lie. Ever since Cas turned on Michael to keep Dean safe. Ever since he refused to join Lucifer. It all came down to one thing. Keeping the Winchesters safe. He’d failed Sam. He sure as hell wasn’t going to fail Dean.
In the end he chose to fall. If it came down to it he’d do it all again too. He’d go through the pain of each and every feather falling out. For Dean Winchester, he’d suffer again. “You didn’t have to go through with it alone though.” His eyes flew back to Dean’s at the soft admission.
“You have enough to worry about. You didn’t need to worry about this too.”
“Cas, I always worry about you. I always have and I always will continue to because I care about you, man.” Dean pressed their foreheads together briefly before taking a step back, a careful mask of indifference sliding back into place. “You should have told me.” With that he turned on his heel and stalked to the bathroom. He paused and growled over his shoulder, not bothering to look at Cas as he spoke. “Before I found the burnt goddamn feathers.”
Shoulders slumping forward Cas let his expression fall as Dean slammed the door shut. He should have. If he’d cared enough, he would have. He looked over at the table, at the empty bottle laying in a pool of green liquid. If he’d cared enough he would have told Dean when he’d found the first feather back in June. Instead he drowned out the pain by drowning himself in alcohol. He kept away from Dean to hide the burning. He kept away for as long as he could.
But he was all but human now. And he needed Dean. He needed him more than ever. He nudged the feather with the toe of his shoe as his vision started swimming. He hated it. The crooked pinion he knew Dean had more of. Hidden away in the Impala. In his bag. He knew there was small downy fluff in his coat pocket.
Hidden away from Cas where the only harm they did, was to remind Dean of all they’d lost. To remind him of all the things Cas was hiding from him. Hidden away from view to cut at Dean’s heart like shards of glass. Cas moved his shoe enough to cover the feather before he ground it to ashes and dust.
Had he known Dean had cared enough he would have told him they had started burning long before the first one fell.