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Sam stirred, and was briefly confused as to why he felt so warm, rested, and relaxed. It was a sensation he had grown unfamiliar with lately, and he couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Then he registered arms around him, fingers in his hair, and a sense of healing grace encircling him.
“Cas?” he mumbled.
“I’m here, Sam,” came a soft voice.
Sam’s body was pressed flush against Castiel’s, face buried in Cas’s chest.
“What time is it?” Sam asked groggily.
“Just after nine.”
Sam felt like he should be alarmed at the lateness of the hour, but the sense of peace suffusing him held him in stasis, and he couldn’t bring himself to get up. He nuzzled his face into Castiel instinctively, and then froze, waking up enough to remember everything that had happened recently, and that he had no real right to be this familiar with Cas at the moment. He began to pull away, but Castiel’s arms tightened around him.
“It’s okay, Sam,” Castiel said quietly, as if he knew exactly what Sam was thinking. “You can be here with me.”
With anyone else, Sam might have had trouble calming down again. But this was Castiel. Fading grace or not, he was still an angel, and, in his heart of hearts, that still meant something to Sam. Even though he’d had horrific experiences with angels, had spent millennia being tortured by two of them, there was still something about Castiel being an angel that made him feel at peace. Though it’s likely, Sam thought wryly, that it’s simply because it’s Castiel. Being in love with someone had a tendency to make everything about them beautiful.
Oops, can’t go down that road. Sam was old enough at this point to know that dwelling upon unrequited love never brought anyone any joy. Nonetheless, Sam allowed himself to sink back into Castiel’s warmth and grace, eyes falling shut as he now felt comfortable enough to keep nuzzling his face into Castiel’s chest.
Castiel’s fingers continued to stroke along Sam’s scalp. He wondered if Cas had done that all night long. Had Castiel been human, that would have long ago begun to chafe. But Sam knew that Castiel always let a tiny yet steady bit of grace run from his fingers while he touched Sam, and that healing energy would never allow Castiel’s touch to harm him in any way. Castiel, Sam reflected, had only intentionally harmed him once. However, he’d been fond of Castiel for almost the entire time they’d known each other. So much so that even Castiel breaking his wall couldn’t tear that away. The only reason Sam had been able to bring himself to try to kill Castiel was to save the world. Yet still he’d struggled to bring himself to do that. But the last couple of years, ever since Jack had become a part of their lives, Sam felt linked to Castiel in a way that went beyond friendship. Caring for Jack while Castiel was dead, protecting him as best he could(Sam pushed away the thought about having to protect Jack from Dean)—even though Castiel had been dead, every single time he looked at Jack, all he could think about was Castiel. How Castiel had given his life for this sweet, brave, wonderful boy. Had known even before Jack was born how incredible Jack would be. And Sam would make sure to give everything to Jack that Castiel would have. Would make sure that Jack turned out to be as amazing as Castiel had always known he’d be.
Then, to Sam's dizzying delight and relief, Castiel returned, and they made it their mission to care for Jack as best as they could together. Sam remembered the first time Castiel had hugged Jack, and the gentle way he'd smiled when Jack floated the pencil. It was that smile that had irrevocably changed Sam's emotions towards Castiel. From the moment Jack had been born, Sam was the only one who loved him. Who believed in him. So from the moment Sam saw that love and belief reflected in Castiel's eyes, he had fallen helplessly, completely in love with him. Sam was fairly certain he'd done a good job of hiding it, though when Castiel started sharing his bed after Dean had been taken by Michael to help him sleep it became a bit more difficult. Regardless, it turned out to be the best part of Sam's day, so there wasn't a chance in hell Sam could ask Castiel not to. And though Sam missed Dean terribly, would have done anything to bring him back, a tiny part of him, a part he tried very hard not to acknowledge, had felt relieved that it was just him and Cas. There was never any conflict. Never any tension. And when he was alone with Castiel, nothing could come between them.
All these thoughts flitted around in Sam’s mind as he lay there. Well, so much for not thinking about his emotions.
He tried to fall back asleep, but consciousness had claimed him.
“I should take a shower,” he said, looking up at Castiel, and trying very hard to keep the reluctance from his voice.
“You don’t have to,” Castiel said gently, meeting his gaze.
Sam shook his head. “I really should. We have to figure out how to defeat Chuck while we can. I probably shouldn’t have slept this long.”
“You needed rest. The human body and brain can’t function properly without it.” Castiel hesitated. “I felt—I mean, you seemed weak. Not just from what happened yesterday. It felt like something that was at least a month old.”
Sam swallowed. He’d had no idea that Castiel would be capable of sensing that. And Sam had tried so hard to keep it from him.
“It was because I was gone, wasn’t it?” It wasn’t really a question, and Castiel knew Sam too well to swallow any lie Sam might come up with.
“Cas, you don’t owe me anything,” Sam said firmly.
“I know I don’t.” Castiel’s arms around him were unyielding, and his gaze was steady. “But I—but you’re my friend, Sam. I shouldn’t have made you suffer because I had conflict with Dean. I want to protect you. I’ve always wanted to protect you. And I know you need me.”
Well, shit. Sam hadn’t the tiniest idea what to say to that. All the protestations he could think of had vanished. After a few seconds had passed, he realized that he should really try to say something.
“You—” his voice came out in a croak, and he cleared his throat. “I really don’t want you to feel obligated to me.”
Castiel smoothed a few strands of hair off of Sam’s forehead, and ran the backs of his fingers down Sam’s cheek.
“You can’t control how I feel, Sam.”
Tears stung Sam’s eyes. He blinked rapidly. He couldn’t figure out how to accept this gentle, unconditional love. Castiel had forgiven something Sam had no idea how to forgive himself for, and, after everything, still only wanted to care for Sam. This was a kind of long lasting love he’d never known. Perhaps it wasn’t love exactly the way Sam wanted, but it was love, regardless.
“It’s okay, Sam,” Castiel said, again as if he knew what Sam was thinking. “It’s okay.”
Sam nodded, a little too quickly, and his head hit Castiel’s chin, hard.
“Shit, sorry,” he said, wincing, but Castiel was laughing softly. Sam had never wanted to kiss someone so much in his life. He pulled away from Castiel, who finally released him. The sense of loss was so profound that Sam almost fell right back down into Castiel's arms, but he held on to his self control by the tips of his fingers.
“I’ll just,” he said lamely, gesturing at the door. “Yeah.”
Castiel nodded, amusement still in his eyes, and Sam practically ran out of the room. Crisis averted. Sort of.