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Retired life is incredibly rewarding when Dean isn’t remembering exactly what it took to get to this point.
It took him losing Castiel and almost dying on a piece of rebar in a shitty barn while fighting vampires to finally decide he’s allowed to rest.
If it wasn’t for Jack catching on to Dean’s predicament and warning Cas just in time, Sam would’ve had to watch Dean die one last time.
Dean hates to admit it, but he had already given up the moment he stepped into the barn that night. He never intended to die, but when the rebar had stuck inside him he hardly had the energy to try to fight to live.
Cas gently gathering him up off the rebar and flying him to the hospital saved his life. He would’ve healed him, but even now Cas’s grace fades in and out like a fickle thing. Jack had figured out wing restoration quickly, but replenishing Cas’s grace hadn’t been an easy task to accomplish.
If Cas had used the last bit of grace he had that night Dean likely would’ve died and Cas would’ve burned completely through.
It’s a scary thought, one that Dean thinks about often, especially now that he knows just what he would be missing.
The rebar just narrowly missed his lung and spine, but damaged several nerves in his shoulder and back. He’s partially paralyzed in the shoulder the rebar hit near and experiences random jolts of debilitating pain. Even on his good days he doesn’t have full range of motion of his shoulder and can’t sit on surfaces without back support, but on bad days he can’t so much as twitch his muscles.
Dean hates the useless feeling those days give him, but he loves what comes from it.
Having Cas is worth the feeling of uselessness he gets when he wakes up and can’t move his shoulder worth a shit.
It’s worth the spike of embarrassment he gets when he goes to gather up things in both his arms, only to remember he can’t and Cas has to pick up the slack.
It’s worth the feeling of straight up mortification when he forgets he can’t move that arm and reaches for something. Cas always pretends not to notice, but considering he always passes what Dean wanted to grab, he’s not exactly slick about it.
Sometimes when Cas makes him sit on the lid of the toilet after his shower so he can towel off his hair for him, it can be so painfully sweet and tender that it’s blinding. Sometimes it feels like worrying a raw nerve ending and it takes every little bit of effort not to snap at him to leave him alone, he’s not useless, he can towel off his own god damn hair.
Those days happen more often than not, but it always ends with Cas taking care of him.
Having Cas back is the best part, getting to have the angel lovingly pass a towel over Dean’s head and eventually a comb too is the best part. They both know Dean could just as easily do this part one-handed, but even on days when Dean has the majority of his range of motion, Cas is the one who towels and brushes through his hair.
Every time, without fail, he tenderly uses the comb to sweep the hair from his face. Sometimes he runs a thumb across his cheekbone or tilts his chin up with his hand, but each time it always ends the same.
Today he presses a kiss to Dean’s forehead before pulling back and swiping his thumb against his cheekbone in a swirling motion.
“There you are.” Cas says sweetly once the hair is from his face. The smile on his face is always there, bright like the sun, and unwavering. It’s a sappy little thing that Dean would take and hide in his chest if he could.
“Here I am.” Dean replies and it is as much of a reminder for Cas as it is for himself.
He’s here, they’re here, and they finally get to be happy. Finally.