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“Here you go.”
Dean startled from his stupor as a brown glass bottle was pushed into his field of vision. He blinked, unaware that he had spaced out. Disoriented he glanced upward, past the bottle of beer that was held out to him. Below his usual baseball cap that was fringing at the edges, Bobby scrutinized him with a piercing look. Dean had seen that look too many times the last few weeks. And like every other time, he averted his gaze.
“Thanks.” Mechanically, he reached for the bottle and took it from Bobby. From the corner of his eye, he saw him take a seat next to him on the porch of Bobby’s small new ‘home’. Home. It was still weird to think of it like that, even after being here for almost seven weeks. It didn’t feel like home, not even with Bobby around and all the other friends and family they had lost over the years just a few streets down. He missed Sam. He missed his baby brother. He missed Jack, Donna, Jody and the girls.
And he missed him.
Dean shook his head. He wouldn’t go there. He so wouldn’t go there.
Taking a big gulp from the beer, he looked around. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in soft tones of rose, orange and yellow as its rays dipped into the calm depths of the dark blue lake; it was a beautiful scenery, a picture straight out of an art gallery. After seven weeks of the same view every night, however, it felt even staler than the beer they’d been drinking each night. Not even the sun was able to illuminate the darkest parts of Dean’s heart, to chase away the regrets he held deep inside.
Bobby sighed. “You’re breaking my heart, kiddo. Just lookin’ at you torturing yourself like that day in day out pains me. Just go and pray to him. He’ll come.”
Dean’s lips formed a thin line as his whole body tensed. Speaking of him pained him so much he felt as though he couldn’t breathe even just by thinking about him. “Nah. We’ve been through this, Bobby,” he said quietly. They’d been talking about this every day, ever since Dean had gotten him up to speed on what had happened on earth the weeks before he had met his untimely demise. He had also talked to Charlie about this. Of course both of them kept encouraging him to talk to him, to ‘sort things out’, but they couldn’t possibly understand that things simply weren’t that easy. They had never been that easy for Dean – for the both of them.
“If by ‘through this’ you mean I tell you to go talk to Cas, and you just brush me off with those sad little puppy eyes while you try and convince yourself there’s no other way than endless suffering here of all places, then sure, we have. But you’ve never actually told me why.”
At the sound of his name, Dean flinched. He felt his heart drop to his stomach, screaming in agony even more than his body had the day that frickin’ rebar had ripped him apart. To try and distract himself from the pain, he finally looked at Bobby. The frown on his forehead made him look so much older than the day he had died. Which meant a lot given the fact that people didn’t age anymore once they went to heaven. Still, as every other day, Dean chose to ignore it. As every other day, he chose to play dumb. Because playing dumb was so much easier than facing the truth, and dealing with all these things he had fucked up so badly. “Why what?”
Bobby scoffed, “Oh don’t gimme that crap! You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Dean took another gulp. “I can’t, Bobby, I just can’t. Cas literally─” He cast his eyes down guiltily, the pain roaring in his chest like a starving beast, “He literally sacrificed his life for me, a-and I just went and screwed it up. How can I even look him in the eye after throwing both our lives away like that?”
“Dying wasn’t your fault, no one could’ve anticipated that. It was just a case of bad luck, that’s all. That’s hardly your fault, son. And Cas is fine, you know Jack put him back together and all,” Uncomprehending, Bobby shook his head, “I think there’s something else going on, and you’re too much of a coward to face it.”
Feeling tears well up inside of him, Dean closed his eyes. Bobby was right. He was a coward. With everything they'd been through, with everything Cas had told him that day before he had died, Dean was still nothing but a goddamn coward.
Instead of replying, instead of admitting it, however, Dean drank. That’s what he had been doing every time the pain became unbearable – he drank. He was always drinking, but he never forgot. The pain never let up long enough for him to breathe properly. He had thought telling Bobby or Charlie would lessen the pain, make it go away. But it stayed. It stayed and laughed him in the face, bigger than any monster he’d ever faced before. Because deep down, he knew that this was the biggest monster in his closet, a monster that accumulated smaller monsters and kept growing and growing, towering over him like an insurmountable pile of crap. He’d thought that once he’d go to heaven he’d finally be at peace. Alas, he had been so wrong.
They stayed silent until the sun had set beyond the small lake, until the bottoms of their bottles had spilled their last drop and the night chilled Dean to the bone; not for the actual being cold (the concept of temperature didn’t seem to exist in heaven) but more that the loss of sunlight took with it every last ounce of warmth he felt on the inside. He watched Bobby get up to gather some firewood and pile it in the sooty metal barrel. It had taken him awhile, Bobby had told him after they had reunited, but he had made that fire his bitch. It didn’t take him long to get the flames licking at the edge of the barrel now, the wood crackling as it burned away slowly.
Eventually, Bobby broke the silence as he always did. “Look, if you want to keep suffering, be my guest. But at least stop feeling sorry for yourself while you’re at it, it’s a real buzzkill.”
Dean would have been offended had Bobby’s words not rang true. He was feeling sorry for himself. He was blaming himself for everything, and cursing the world and its twisted sense of humor at the same time. To think, all he had ever wanted had been within reach this entire time, and now, he couldn’t have it anymore. Not the way he had wanted it. It truly was the cruelest joke of them all.
“Yeah thanks for your words, they’re truly heartwarming.” He wasn’t angry at Bobby. He could never be angry at Bobby. He knew that he was trying his best to cheer him up, get him out of this dark pit he’d fallen into, when frankly, he should have been jumping for joy that Jack had brought Cas back from the Empty. That he was here, in heaven, just a prayer away. Still, Dean felt powerless. Hopeless, trapped in his own fears and regrets, unable to get out of the swamp he was sinking in deeper and deeper every day.
Bobby scoffed again. He was scoffing a lot these days. “How about you get us another beer?” Demanding, he held out his empty bottle to Dean.
Sighing, Dean rose from his camping seat. Beer was always a good enough idea, especially when he didn’t want to put up with his own thoughts and feelings. Still, he couldn’t help but feel guilty that he was always shooting down the people around him, when all they did was worry about him. He turned around, halfway to the house, “Look, Bobby, I appreciate what you’re trying to do here. But thing is… I just gotta figure this crap out by myself.” He wasn’t going to ‘figure things out’ by himself, he knew as much. He also knew that Bobby knew. But avoiding it until the pain was tearing him apart seemed so much easier than trying to sort out this whole cluster fuck by himself. Nobody could help him when his mind was his own worst enemy, after all.
“Yeah, whatever, just get me another beer.”
Dean shrugged, trying to shake off his thoughts like a dog shook water from its fur. “Sure.” Feeling the pit in his stomach deepen, he went inside. He knew Bobby got this cold and dismissive when in reality, all he wanted to do was kick their asses for their own stupidity. Dean wasn’t delusional; he knew he was the one standing in his own way. He knew that there was no one to blame for the way he felt but himself. Yet still, he couldn’t seem to do a damn thing about it. About any of it.
He took a deep breath, placing the empty bottles on the kitchen counter. He knew dwelling on it when he wasn’t anywhere near drunk was a bad idea. But sadly, he couldn’t get drunk in heaven. So there was no way for him to even get in the state where he’d be able to silence his anxiety long enough to actually find the courage to deal with things. Why did things have to be so screwed up and complicated? Why couldn’t he live in some winter wonderland with a white picket fence and his own damned happy ending? He shouldn’t even be here. This was not how he had pictured the evening – hell, the afterglow – of his life. Not anymore. He had come to wish for things, he had come to have hope. And the biggest part, the reason for all of this, had always been Cas. And then he had been taken away from him. Dean had thought he’d lost him forever. He should’ve been thrilled to hear he was alive, he should’ve immediately rushed to meet him, to tell him all those things weighing on his heart.
Only now he didn’t even dare face him.
His hand was shaking visibly as he pulled open the refrigerator door and buried his head inside to look for new bottles of beer between the casseroles (Ellen was hell-bent on making sure that Bobby didn’t starve – not that he could, but that seemed to be beside the point), bottles of milk, and juice.
“You asked to see me, Bobby? You said there was something wrong?”
Dean jerked as he heard the voice. His head collided with the upper frame of the fridge, but where a sharp pain should’ve shot through his skull, there was nothing. Another perk of being in heaven – there was literally no pain anywhere. Except for the pain he felt rip through his heart at that voice. That rough, deep voice. That awfully familiar voice.
Slowly, Dean turned around, rising behind the concealment the fridge door offered him. And there he was, standing below the kitchen lamp, the worn (but not dirty) trench coat swaying around his legs at the soft breeze of the kitchen door opening.
Cas was as breathtaking as Dean remembered him. His hair was dark and disheveled as Dean remembered it. His eyes were as clear and blue as the sky on a cloudless summer’s day just as he remembered them. His eyes that mirrored the sheer terror Dean was feeling at that exact moment as he realized he hadn’t been talking to Bobby at all.
“Dean?” Only slowly, the shock faded from Cas’s face, but he couldn’t hide the pain shimmering in his eyes. His voice seemed meek, lacking the confidence it had exuded only seconds ago.
“About time you showed your ass around here!”
Cas seemed in trance as he turned around to Bobby, who had just entered the kitchen. Weary, Dean’s eyes fell on the old hunter. Bobby’s face was void of any emotion, void of any tells. There was nothing but stubbornness painted on his aged features.
“I-I don’t understand,” Cas stammered, looking back and forth between Bobby and Dean. “You prayed to me, you said there was something that needed fixing.” His face was one big question mark, the uncertainty written plainly all over it.
Dean shut the refrigerator. Unlike Cas, he was already putting two and two together. His heart began to race. He wasn’t ready for this. No matter how many nights he lay awake, no matter how often he’d rehearsed this moment, he had never been prepared. And now, here Cas was, standing right in front of him because Bobby had decided that he’d grown tired of Dean’s avoidance, his inability to act on his feelings.
“Oh that’s right,” Bobby mused, his tone stoic, his face unwavering. He raised his index finger, pointing between Cas and Dean. “It’s you boys. You’re gonna fix that thing between you right now. And don’t either of you dare leave this kitchen until you’ve gotten your damn heads straight. Idjits!” He didn’t leave any room for objections. He glared at them menacingly (which had Dean shiver in dreadful anticipation), turned around, and slammed the door shut behind himself loudly.
Dumbfounded, Dean’s eyes wandered from the kitchen door to Cas. He felt anxiety slowly seeping through every fiber of his body, forming a lump in his throat. Cas looked tired.
“I- uhm…” His voice was hoarse, the lump seemed to choke him. His thoughts were racing to the point he felt like he was losing his mind. Goddammit. He so hadn’t been ready for this. All the scenarios which he had thought up escaped his mind, rendering him speechless and immobile.
Cas’s eyes narrowed as he tilted his head. But the emotion Dean saw on his face wasn’t confusion – it was sorrow. He looked as lost as Dean felt, and Dean realized that in all his little scenarios, Cas had never looked like this. He had never looked broken.
“I should leave─”
It felt as though time was slowing down when Dean grasped those words, and in terror he watched Cas start to turn around. His body, which seemed to have been frozen on the spot the moment he had first heard Cas’s voice, acted before his mind had caught up. His feet rushed him over the wooden floorboards of the kitchen, and before he knew it, he had seized Cas’s wrist. “No, wait!” His voice was but a whisper.
Surprised, Cas halted in his movement, turning back around to Dean. He looked down to where Dean’s hand grasped his wrist, then met his gaze. “I… I don’t understand,” he said, confusion finally mixing with the sorrow. “I assumed the last person you wanted to see was me.”
Dean gasped, letting go of Cas’s wrist in shock. “Huh?” A different kind of confusion gripped him as he tried to make sense of what Cas was saying. “Why would you say that? Why would I not want to see you?” He didn’t understand. He would’ve thought that maybe Cas didn’t want to see him, but why would the angel ever assume Dean didn’t want to see him? Why would he think that lowly of himself?
Cas averted his gaze shamefully. “I’ve waited for you to speak to me. I- I don’t know, I guess I was hoping you’d want to see me. But then the weeks passed and you never did so I assumed─” He trailed off, taking a deep breath as to steady himself. When his gaze finally returned to Dean, there was a pain written on his face that took Dean’s breath away. But his next words were what shattered his heart. “I started to assume that you didn’t want to see me again, you know, after… after the things I told you.”
Reality punched Dean in the guts. Mortified, he stared at Cas, too disturbed by the thought alone, but even more disturbed by the realization of what his cowardice had actually done to Cas. Anger crashed over him like a tidal wave, filling his bones with a seeping self-loathing. How selfish could he be that he had never even stopped to think how his actions would affect Cas? How stupidly blind, how blindly stupid had he been in his own insignificant fears that the thought had never even crossed his mind before?
“No, Cas, that’s not it, that’s not it at all,” he heard himself whisper, but he couldn’t feel his jaw move as he spoke. It was as though he had lost control of his body, had completely lost all sense of feeling. The only thing left was the raging anger he held towards himself, an anger that burned hotter with every passing second he stared at Cas’s pain-ridden face.
“Then what is it?” Once again, Cas looked away, as though he couldn’t bear to even look him in the eye. “Is it because I didn’t come to save you? Dean, I swear if I had known, I would’ve been there immediately. After Jack put me back together, heaven was a mess. I was an even bigger mess, after the Empty had… I-I should’ve been there for you. But I wasn’t and now you’re… you’re dead, and it’s─”
His voice broke, as did Dean’s heart when he spotted the tears shimmering in his eyes. All he wanted to do was pull Cas into his embrace, just touch him, be there for him, make those tears stop, but he was frozen in his own pain. “Please don’t say – don’t even think – that this is somehow your fault, Cas. Please don’t.”
Cas sniffed guiltily. “I’m not saying that, but still, this isn’t right. You were supposed to live a long life, find love and happiness. You’re not supposed to be here. Not yet.” He lifted his head, staring at the ceiling, contemplative. Broken.
Dean had never liked seeing him broken. But seeing him broken like this, knowing he was the source of all of it, tore him apart. And the things Cas was saying. After all this time, he still didn’t know? Then again, how could he have ever known, when Dean had always given him nothing but the silent treatment? How could he have not come to these sorts of conclusions when all Dean had ever done was fuel the flames of Cas’s scorching doubt?
Trying to somehow find his ground, Dean shook his head. “Me dying was just… a case of bad luck,” he repeated Bobby’s words from earlier. Though instead of taking his words, he should’ve taken his advice, and done so much sooner. Dean was far from being at peace with his circumstances. But then again, all these weeks prior, when he had still been alive, he had assumed that Cas had been lost to the Empty forever. And without him, Dean had felt as though he had already been dead inside anyway. Especially after countless failed attempts to save Cas, to release him from his deal with the Empty.
Cas’s look was one of strong disapproval, but at least the tears had stopped, though they were now replaced by his previous confusion. “But then I don’t understand… If you don’t blame me for not being there to heal you, and you didn’t avoid me because of the things I told you, then why?”
Why?
A question Dean had struggled with for all these weeks, ever since Bobby had told him that Cas was alive again. And still, he didn’t know how to phrase it, didn’t know how to tell Cas all these things that had been ghosting around his head for ages. Not just since the confession, but years prior to that. Only he had buried all those things, all those feelings deep down inside because he had seemed so sure that Cas would never reciprocate. That he couldn’t reciprocate, being a celestial warrior created for fighting, not feeling, not loving, or anything of that sort.
But then, against all odds and when Dean had least expected it, he had actually confessed. And his confession had knocked Dean right off his feet, had brought everything rushing back. His feelings. His doubts. His guilt. He still didn’t know what to do. His heart begged him to act, but his mind kept him locked in place, his own little purgatory that his guilt had created over the last weeks.
But he knew that he had to speak up. Bobby was right. Charlie had been right too. They needed to fix this. Hell, he knew he couldn’t go on much longer if they didn’t work things out. He knew that if he let Cas walk out the door tonight, he would break down completely. He knew he had to speak the truth, and speak it tonight – or forever hold his peace. “I didn’t avoid you because I didn’t want to see you, Cas.
“I avoided you because I thought you were better off without me. I avoided you because I failed you, Cas. I failed you so badly, and there’s just no way I could’ve made it up to you. So how could I have ever even looked you in the eye again?” Finally, he was speaking the truth. Finally, he was beginning to voice all these things that had eaten away at him ever since Cas had died.
Cas’s eyes widened in shock. In utter disbelief, he stared at Dean. “I don’t understand. Why would you even say this?”
Exasperated, Dean ran his fingers through his hair. He had never been good at expressing his feelings, much less to the man he had been in love with for years. Somehow, it seemed much easier to take on all the Knights of Hell at once. Or would’ve been if he had still been alive and kicking. Or any of them, for that matter. “Cas, you know why… I mean look at us. The ways I’ve treated you? The things I’ve said? Hell, even after dying all I knew was how to be selfish. It didn’t even occur to me once how you were feeling with me avoiding you. Even now all I do is hurt you. I’ve treated you like shit, and I’m aware of it. So how can I not say things like that?” He clenched his fist, the guilt heavy as lead on his shoulders. “And please don’t make up any excuses for me. There’re no excuses for the way I behaved. I’ve always had so much rage in me, and I always let it out on you. I’ve always been so fucking selfish. And I’m so fucking sorry, Cas. I’m sorry for everything.”
He closed his eyes as the pain seemed to overwhelm him, tears pressing at the insides of his lids, but he knew that hiding away would not erase his failures. It would not make up for all the ways in which he had screwed Cas over. “And to top it all off, I couldn’t even repay you for what you did that day. You gave your life to save me, to save the whole damn world. A-And I couldn’t even save you. I couldn’t even bring you back.” He had tried everything. Sam had wanted him to let it rest, but Dean hadn’t been able to. He had tried to find a way to summon the Empty, to figure out a way to make a deal, so it would bring Cas back. He had tried the reapers, he had tried angels, demons, Rowena. He had even tried praying to Jack, but Jack hadn’t responded, not a single time. Eventually, Dean had been forced to give up on Cas, to find a way to live without him.
He still couldn’t forgive himself.
He reopened his eyes when his words were met with silence, worried that maybe Cas had zapped away. But he still stood there, mere inches away from Dean, his forehead wrinkled in contemplation. “Okay,” he finally spoke again, “I won’t make up excuses.” He rubbed his neck sheepishly. Now that he knew with a certainty that Dean didn’t hate him, he seemed much more calm and collected. There was still sorrow on his face, but Dean’s words had at least dulled the pain in his eyes. When he met Dean’s gaze, a faint smile stretched out on his lips. “Dean, you’re not the only one who made mistakes. I’m not perfect either. I screwed up too, I’ve hurt you too in the past.” He tilted his head, the smile growing in intensity. Dean felt his heart flutter; he never thought he would get to see that most beautiful smile ever again. “And still, you’ve forgiven me each time, haven’t you?”
Slowly, Dean nodded. Part of him wanted to object, wanted to tell Cas how they simply didn’t compare, how he shouldn’t have given up on getting him back, but something in Cas’s eyes kept his mouth shut. And of course, it was true. He had always forgiven Cas eventually – though God knew the last time he had taken too damn long. He still hated himself for letting Cas walk out the door back then, for not stopping him. He couldn’t bear losing Cas ever again, not to the Empty nor his own fears nor his damned pride.
Which was why he couldn’t let history repeat itself tonight, even though the circumstances were different from back then. Oh how different they were. There was no pride on his part, no ego getting in the way. Just his fear and his feelings of inferiority. His strong belief that after everything, Cas truly was better off without him. Though truth be told, Dean knew himself to not be good without Cas in his life. He couldn’t sleep without Cas, could barely breathe without him. But he felt selfish even thinking that way, always had.
And maybe, if he was being completely honest with himself, he was also massively terrified.
“Well then why can’t you accept the fact that I, too, have forgiven you for your wrong-doings?” The smile was still there, but it was sympathetic and at the same time hopeful. As though Cas needed for him to just understand that he had long forgiven him. “And about the Empty… I knew back when I took that deal to save Jack that there would be no way out for me – and I never even expected to find a moment of true happiness to begin with. As you know.” He rubbed his neck once more in that endearingly awkward fashion. “I never meant to put that burden on you, Dean. It was never yours to bear. It was my choice to make that deal, and it was my choice to summon the Empty. To save your life. None of it is your fault, it never was. You couldn’t have saved me, no matter how hard you tried. I’m sorry you took that burden on yourself.” At the last sentence, his voice wavered.
But Dean knew that this didn’t even come close to all the things whirling inside his mind. He meekly shook his head no, but didn’t find the strength to speak. He wanted to tell Cas so many more things, but again, his guilt had his tongue in a knot. Even if failing him that one last time hadn’t been his fault, he had always been his burden. Because he’d realized he just couldn’t live without the angel. Maybe that had been the reason why he had stopped Sam from calling the ambulance. Maybe that had been the reason why he had given up on all the things he had come to wish upon – because he couldn’t imagine himself doing these things with anyone else but Cas. And Cas had been gone.
Dean had given up on his happily ever after the moment Cas had died right in front of him.
“It’s not that. You’ve always forgiven me even when I didn’t deserve it.” He had even forgiven Dean for failing him.
Once again, Cas understood him without words, as though he had read his mind. Once again, he tilted his head. The smile vanished and a whole new form of sadness glistered in those beautiful eyes. “You’re right, that’s not it,” he mused, “It’s that you haven’t forgiven yourself.”
Finally, he found his voice. “How could I? I kept treating you like shit, over and over again. And I never even got a chance to make it up to you, any of it. I couldn’t even repay you for saving my life, for saving the whole fucking world. Instead, I failed you one last time, you, the last person I ever wanted to─”
“The last person you ever wanted to what?”
Dean pressed his lips together. Once again, he felt doubts overwhelm him. Not doubts about how he felt about Cas – there hadn’t been any doubts for years. Not even doubts about how Cas felt about him (though Dean still couldn’t believe it at times). Doubts about whether he was deserving of this, of Cas, of love, of happiness. He sure as hell didn’t think he’d deserved Cas sacrificing himself for his sake. He would have never suffered this much in the first place if he had never even met Dean.
“Dean?”
He shook his head. “I’m not good at this crap. At talking… at just… figuring this out. I don’t know.” At accepting that maybe he deserved some happiness of his own. That maybe, it hadn’t been his burden to bear, just like Cas had said. “I keep trying to tell you, I-I should’ve said all these things ages ago but I can’t seem to get the words out. And you’re right, I can’t forgive myself – not for failing you the way I did. It’s why I kept avoiding you because I just can’t wrap my head around how I could possibly make all this shit up to you. Because I didn’t even know how to say I’m sorry. I didn’t even know how to thank you for saving my life. Or to respond to the things you told me.”
He had not been in love often. He could count the times he had been on one hand. Counting how many people he’d actually told probably didn’t even require any hands at all. He was painfully aware that the amount of times that phrase had actually left his lips was close to zero. He had always been more about actions, but even those he was incapable of right now. He didn’t even dare touch Cas in any way, much less hug him like he so desperately wanted to. Yet, he didn’t know how to have his heart reach out. Speech and actions both seemed to fail him.
“I’m sorry, Dean. I never meant for you to feel responsible for my choices. I didn’t mean to burden you with my death, that’s the last thing I wanted.
“I also don’t want you to feel like you owe me. I chose to summon the Empty to save your life. I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to measure up to that, like you have to repay me.” Cas’s gaze fell to the floor, as did his voice to a whisper. “I did it because I love you. Because I couldn’t bear the idea of Billie killing you. And, I know… I know you don’t feel the same way about me. I mean, I never had any delusions about that. I always knew I couldn’t have you. I- I always knew you saw me as your best friend, nothing more.” Cas gnawed at his lower lip, lowering his head in shame. In terror, Dean realized that he still hadn’t been able to convey to Cas how he actually felt.
“And I was okay with that. I was okay knowing I’d die to save the man I love. All I ever wanted for you was to be happy, to repay me by finding true happiness of your own, live your life to the fullest. Because you deserve it, Dean, you truly do. You don’t deserve to feel responsible for any of this, you don’t deserve to beat yourself up over it. I-I never meant to put all this weight on you.” Again, tears were welling up in his eyes. Desperately, Dean watched one drop slip out the corner of his eye and roll down his cheek. The pain was back in Cas’s eyes, and the sight crushed Dean. He had cried, too, back when he had first confessed his feelings to Dean. When he had first spoken those incredible and unbelievable words.
Realization dawned on him once more. The way they had been going, the way things had been, all he had ever done was hurt Cas. He had always kept his feelings hidden, convinced that Cas didn’t feel the same way. And then, when he had proved him otherwise, Dean had been too shocked to reply, to reciprocate. For years, they had danced around one another in an absurd tango, too blind for each other’s feelings. For years, Dean had avoided dealing with any of it head on. His feelings, his guilt – Cas. Until the bitter end, he had avoided him, and all that had done was hurt Cas deeply. He was staring at the result, was watching it roll down Cas’s cheek this very instant.
He finally needed to do things differently if he wanted to break them out of this vicious cycle. He still didn’t know whether he deserved any of this, whether he would be able to forgive himself one day – all he knew was he couldn’t bear the pain on Cas’s face anymore. The pain of thinking Dean wasn’t and had never felt the same way as him. He’d rather die yet another time than let him hurt like that ever again.
“No, Cas, stop!” Finally, his body responded to his signals. He closed the gap between them, cupping Cas’s cheek and wiping away his tear with his thumb. The last thing he had wanted was for Cas to feel guilty in return. It had never been his fault. “How could you even say something like that?” Softly, he caressed his cheek with his thumb as though he could soothe him that way and keep his other tears at bay. He still didn’t know what he was doing – how to do things right – but the fear had evaporated the moment he had felt his legs move, the moment he had finally touched Cas’s face.
Looking like a lost puppy, Cas stared at him, completely stiff beneath his touch. The tears were still shimmering in his eyes, a sight that threatened to break Dean’s heart yet again. He’d lost count of how often he had felt it rip apart in his chest, had always been sure that one day it’d stop beating, too exhausted from all the pain to go on. But now, he felt strength seep through his body, licking at the cracks in his heart, his soul. “None of it is true, Cas. You’ve got it all wrong.” Holding his breath, he propped his forehead against Cas’s. Cas didn’t move; he didn’t withdraw, which gave Dean enough courage to keep going. “I know I’m to blame for giving you these kinds of ideas – and don’t say I’m not – but I just need you to know they’re not true. And please don’t blame yourself, either. You can’t, you hear me? Not ever.” The thought of Cas being filled with the same guilt he was carrying around day in, day out, tore Dean apart. It was not something he could stand idly by and let happen. He wouldn’t.
He bit down on his lower lip, his thumb stroking Cas’s cheek again. He smiled as he felt the stubble below his fingertip, as he breathed in his familiar scent of honey and summer. Instead of hurting, his heart was racing now, beating so stupidly fast that he was sure it would jump out of his chest any second. Oh how he had missed feeling this way. No one else had ever made his heart beat this fast, had made it ache so deeply with a longing he couldn’t even describe if he had been better with words altogether. “You are my best friend,” he resumed, retreating an inch to look at Cas, who still looked utterly confused. He opened his mouth to reply, but Dean covered his lips with his thumb, keeping him from speaking. “Please let me finish. I need to say this. God knows I should’ve told you this back in the bunker when Billie was after us. Hell, even long before that.” His stomach fluttered, the butterflies barely kept at bay by the last remnants of his anxiety.
“I don’t even know why I kept it in for so long. I still don’t think I deserve you, I don’t. But I’m tired, Cas. I’m tired of making up reasons why I can’t have this. I’m tired of hurting, and hurting you. You’re my best friend, but you’re also so much more than that, and you don’t even know it.” He was the goddamn love of his life, and yet he was still convinced he meant so little to Dean. Something Dean knew he only had himself to blame for, because he had never spoken the truth in his heart. Until now. “I couldn’t possibly have found happiness, because you were gone. You were gone and I didn’t even get a chance to tell you how I truly felt. I never got to say it.” Finally, Dean felt like a ton of weight was starting to lift off his chest. Finally, he felt like he could breathe again. For the first time in years, and the first time since he had gone to heaven, he felt truly at peace, truly free.
Still, there was doubt in Cas’s eyes. Still, he hesitated. Still, he didn’t believe Dean. Searching, he scanned Dean’s face as though the truth was written on his skin. “What… are you saying?”
Dean laughed quietly. How typical it was for Cas to not get something even when it was literally being spelled out for him. Though Dean couldn’t blame him. All he had given him were doubts and hurt. Rejection, seemingly. Maybe Cas just needed a little help to not only make him understand fully, but to wash away all his doubts and reservations at the same time – and not through words, but actions.
Drawing in his breath, Dean bent forward, closing his eyes. Gingerly, he pressed his lips against Cas’s. He felt him freeze below his touch, but lingered for a few more seconds in order to make sure that he got the message loud and clear this time around.
Feeling butterflies whirl inside his stomach, Dean slowly retreated, but didn’t let go of Cas’s face. The feeling of his skin below his touch gave him the courage he needed to finally break out, to finally damn all his doubts and his guilt to hell. To let go of the past and look at what was right in front of him. “I’m saying you’re wrong. You always had me. Because I love you, too. Because you’re my true happiness, too, and I want to be with you – if you’ll have me. If you’ll give me this one chance to finally do things right.” Uncertainty gripped his heart. He knew how Cas felt, and Cas finally knew how he felt too. Moreover, he had finally said that one wish he had been holding in his heart aloud. He had finally bared his soul. It was there for Cas to take. If he wanted it. If after everything, he decided that Dean was still worth it, that he deserved a second chance. Even if Dean still wasn’t ready to completely forgive himself, he was more than ready to finally let Cas in fully. Cas had always seen his soul for what it really was, but still Dean needed to tell him the things he kept locked in his heart. He didn’t want to avoid him anymore, he wanted to share all his grief and joy with him. He wanted Cas to know all of him.
The frown on Cas’s forehead vanished. He opened his mouth to speak, but was unable to get a single syllable out. Instead, he just stared at Dean as new tears formed in his eyes. Yet Dean knew these were a different kind of tears. For the first time, there was no pain hidden in them. There was only joy. A joy that struck him like a lightning bolt, sending warm sparks throughout his whole body. He felt tears of his own in his eyes as he watched Cas break out into the most breathtaking smile he had ever seen on the angel’s face. He was glowing. He was the most beautiful creature Dean had ever laid eyes upon and he wanted to tell him as much, but all he could do was stand there and stare at him as tears of his own streamed down his cheeks.
He didn’t even get to reach up to his face and wipe them away. In the blink of an eye, Cas cradled his face, drying his cheeks with his thumbs as he pulled Dean close and brought their lips together for a tender kiss. Feeling the sensation of Cas kissing him completely blew Dean’s mind, wiping away every thought, every speck of guilt, and cleansed his soul. He had always wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by Cas, had even dreamt about it on some lonely nights, but nothing had prepared him for the intense sensation that was now rushing through his veins. He felt his blood pounding in his ears, felt his heart race and his cheeks burn, and he gave himself completely over to the sensation.
Breathlessly, Cas retreated much too soon. His cheeks were flushed red, and the smile was back on his face. The touch of his fingertips caressing Dean’s cheeks felt like a summer’s breeze, soft and warm. Loving. “Of course I’ll have you.”
Dean had never thought he could feel as happy as he did this very moment he heard Cas say those words. He felt sparks of utter, untainted joy ignite in his body, burning away any last remnants of guilt. He would still feel guilty from time to time, he knew that feeling wouldn’t ease up that easily. But Cas was here, he was alive and he was with Dean. He had accepted Dean, with all his flaws and mistakes. He hadn’t even hesitated for a single second. For the first time, Dean had truly opened himself to someone completely, and had been accepted for who he was.
Feeling the overwhelming sensation of loving and being loved in return, Dean pulled his angel in for another kiss.