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There’s a rip in the air, when Cas comes back. Dean tries to ignore it for a while, chalking it up to general exhaustion, to Cas needing to find his footing now that he’s human again. But it stays there in the back of his mind, like a weight, a balloon waiting to burst.
Dean remains on guard. Chuck might be gone and they might not be hunting monsters every other regular Tuesdays anymore, but he’s been waiting for things to rain down on them their entire life and it’s not something you can shake that easily.
It’s when Cas experiences his first nightmare that Dean finally gets it.
It’s late, probably bordering 3AM when he’s taken out of his slumber by the sound of Cas sobbing beside him. The covers have been wrecked and most of them are on the floor on Cas’ side, and the sheets are a mess where they pool below Cas’ ankles. Dean extends an arm and wraps it around Cas, bringing him closer to him on instinct.
His brain is still pretty fogged up but he instantly knows that something’s wrong- if not for the way Cas keeps crying steadily, because Cas doesn’t curl into his chest right away like he’s been doing ever since they started sharing the same bed since he came back. He stays resolutely away from Dean, only allowing his arm to stay around his waist because he’s unable to fight it.
This is it, Dean thinks. This is the thing that hung over us for the past weeks.
“It’s me, sweetheart,” he murmurs instead, trying to keep his voice steady. “You’re okay. We’re in the bunker, you’re safe.”
“No,” Cas let out, his voice watery and broken up. “You need to stop. You can’t- you need to stop bringing Dean into this, I know you’re just playing me. You’re not real, you’re not him.”
Dean sighs slowly, his stomach churning unpleasantly. He knew Cas’ experience in the Empty had been terrible, but so far Cas had refused to talk about it, plain and simple. Judging by what he seems to be going through right now, Dean guesses the entity had tortured Cas with images of Dean, and probably Sam and Jack too.
He extends his other arm carefully, and when his hand touches Cas’ cheek, his thumb running tenderly over the line of his jaw, Cas closes his eyes and lets out a breath.
“It’s me. I’m real, babe. It’s okay.”
Cas shakes his head, eyes still closed.
“N-no,” he stutters, voice weak, exhausted. “Can’t be. Can’t be him.”
Somehow, Dean feels less reluctance in Cas’ voice, so he draws a bit closer. His hand cups Cas’ jaw as he brushes his nose against his. Cas exhales slowly as Dean watches him. Finally when he opens his eyes again, Dean can see the blue shining clearer than before. Cas seems more composed, as if Dean managed to break through him somehow.
“I’m real,” he whispers, his breath lingering on Cas’ bottom lip. “We’re real. I promise. You’re home, you’re safe. I’m right here.”
“How can I know for sure?” Cas asks, voice steadier.
Dean smiles despite the exhaustion threatening to snap through his bones and brushes his lips against Cas’.
To anyone on the outside, the kiss would seem chaste, pure even. To Dean it feels like saving grace. Like pure, liquid supernova being poured out inside his veins. Warmth and utter love shoot through him as he lingers, his tongue grazing Cas’ bottom lip before retreating just enough to watch Cas open his eyes to stare at him again.
“Was that real or not real?”
Cas nods, his nose brushing against Dean’s cheek.
“Real.”
Dean brings his hand to Cas’ hair as the ex-angel tumbles into his chest, burying his face in the crook of Dean’s neck. He cards through the mess of dark hair steadily, waiting for Cas to talk again, but he only clutches him harder, his nails digging into Dean’s back.
“Hey,” he finally whispers into Cas’ hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”
It takes a while before Cas answers, his voice muffled from where he’s pressed against Dean’s skin.
“Real or not real?”
Dean smiles, brushes a kiss into Cas’ hair.
“Real.”
Dean can feel Cas exhales and little by little his grip loosens, until they’re just resting in each other’s embrace.
“I’m sorry,” Cas mumbles after a while. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s okay,” Dean yawns. “I’m here for you. You know that.”
Cas doesn’t respond for a long while, and after Dean’s placed several kisses on the side of his face and into his hair, he figures he finally went back to sleep. He’s about to do the same when Cas’ voice cuts through the silence, his breath warm where he’s still pressed against the line of Dean’s throat.
“I love you.”
Dean smiles into the dark. He used to dread those words, to attach their weight to something he’d end up losing or fucking up. But now that he has Cas- truly has Cas, in sickness and in health or whatever crap they say in those chick-flicks Dean absolutely doesn’t watch- he associates it with something else.
Something bigger, heavier, in a good way. It fills him with something incredible- dread, sure, but joy too. And as he ducks down to catch Cas’ lips with his own, he can feel Cas’ heart beating steady against his own.
Real.
“I love you too,” he whispers against Cas' lips and delights when those same lips stretch into a smile before kissing his one last time.
Cas doesn’t ask real or not real this time.
They both know.
There’s a rip in the air, but it’s okay. Whatever comes their way, it’s good.
It’s real.