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Alone in the darkness of the bunker, Dean crept down the halls, tracing the path he and Castiel had taken as they ran from Billie. It was the third night in a row that Dean found himself standing in the dungeon. Even with Castiel back, alive and whole and powers restored, he felt a pull to this spot he couldn’t explain. It felt like holy ground somehow, but he didn’t come here for comfort. The room made him nauseous. It was like he needed to repent for something, though he couldn’t quite say what.
He hadn’t slept a full night in forever. Every time he tried, he saw the black goo closing in. All of his dreams were nightmares, attempts to pull Castiel away as the Empty came for him. And in every dream, no matter what he did or said, the Empty pulled Cas in, leaving Dean alone. So he wandered to the dungeon and stood in the spot he’d stood in that day, until he was so tired he could barely see straight. Then he’d head back to his room and pretend to be asleep so Miracle could wake him up.
Even with Castiel back, the nightmares hadn’t stopped. And Dean found the atmosphere at the bunker unbearable. Sam and Jack were overjoyed, of course, and Castiel was the picture of serene happiness as the three laughed together over some dumb show. But Dean could barely look at the guy. He’d claimed exhaustion and gone to his room alone every night, and Dean was sure he looked the part considering how little he’d rested. Castiel always wanted to follow, to take care of Dean, and the concern on his face broke Dean’s heart.
Just like it had been broken in this room, Dean thought, staring at the walls. He had fractured into a million tiny pieces that day, and even with Castiel back, Dean wasn’t sure if they’d ever really come back together again. Castiel loved him. Him. The most beautiful being to ever exist, who perplexed Dean and frustrated him and made him feel whole, who was so far above the broken human Dean was, loved him. It almost made him laugh, the absurdity of it. Castiel. Loved. Him. Of all the bullshit he’d ever heard, that took the prize.
“Dean?” Castiel’s voice sounded small, echoing around the dungeon.
Dean jumped. “Jesus, Cas, warn a guy.”
Castiel took a tentative step forward. “What are you doing down here? It’s so late. Are you having nightmares again? I could sit with you like we used to, watch one of your movies until you fall asleep. I could watch over you.”
Castiel’s earnestness made something twist in Dean’s chest. “Nah, Cas, it’s okay. I’m just trying to tire myself out. Don’t worry about it, go back to bed or whatever you were doing.”
Castiel’s brow furrowed. “But I do worry about you, Dean. Always. And since I’ve returned, you’ve kept me at such a distance.”
Dean cleared his throat nervously, and Castiel’s eyes widened in understanding. “Is it what I said before I left? Dean, if I knew it would cause you distress, I wouldn’t have spoken it aloud. I thought perhaps it would be a comfort to you after I was gone, but it seems it has only hurt you.”
Castiel looked deflated. Dean could kick himself. “No, Cas, it’s not … it’s not the way you’re thinking, believe me. The words you said, they didn’t hurt me. But you said all that, and then I watched you die. I couldn’t even say anything, I couldn’t stop it. And it’s been playing over and over in my head since I lost you.”
Castiel stepped closer. “I don’t understand. If what I said didn’t hurt you, then why not let me comfort you? Now that I am here, now that you know how I feel, we could be our true selves with each other. You can have all of me, and I can have all of you.”
Dean turned away from Castiel and walked towards the wall, overcome. “Cas, you’ve always had me. I might have been shit at showing it, but you’ve had all of me for a long time now. And it’s not that I don’t want you, because, God, I want you.”
Castiel pleaded, “Then what is it, Dean? I love you. You … feel something for me, even if it isn’t the same love I feel for you. I promise you, I will never ask more from you than you are willing to give. I am content in simply being here with you --”
“Castiel, no,” Dean interrupted, turning back to the angel. “That’s not what you deserve. Don’t act like sitting with me and being my goddamn caretaker is the best job in the entire world.”
Dean was frustrated and he didn’t know how to make Castiel understand. “It’s me, okay? I’m the problem here, not you. Just let me work this out on my own.”
They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before Castiel broke the silence. “I am sorry to have disturbed you, Dean. I now know you would rather be alone. But you must know, Dean, that I meant what I said. My happiness is in just being -- being with you.” Castiel moved towards the door.
“Castiel,” Dean started, then stopped. He could feel his heart beating in his chest. “Your lo -- what you’re feeling, for me? It’s holy, Cas. It’s this pure thing, and I can feel it whenever you look at me. I’ve felt it for a while now, even if I didn’t know what to call it.” He paused to center himself.
“But I’m not holy, Cas, I’m not pure or blessed or good , not like you. I mean ...” Dean sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I’ve tortured and killed, and not all of ‘em deserved it. In fact, most of ‘em didn’t. I have hurt everyone who’s ever loved me, and that includes you, buddy. And that’s just my greatest hits from topside.”
His breath hitched, and his voice shook with rage. “Cas, you don’t even know what I did in Hell. It was … the things I did, the things I felt ?”
He had to make Cas see, see just who he thought he loved. Dean felt his anger rise along with the memories, and it all poured out. “You said everything I’ve ever done has been for love, huh? The good, and the bad? You tell me where the love was down there. Down there, it was all me, buddy, no buffer. That was my soul doing the talking. No Sam to pull me back, no you to make me feel guilty, just me. And I broke, and because I was broken, I broke everyone else. Body after body after body. And it felt good .”
Dean couldn’t look at Castiel, but he could feel the angel’s gaze, steady as always. “And you know what’s the worst sin of all, Cas? You know what really makes me the worst son of a bitch who ever lived?” He laughed bitterly. “I dragged you down with me. You were heavenly, you were some powerful celestial being with ten heads or whatever, and you fell for me . You left the big angel nest in the sky for me . For a messed up bastard who couldn’t even get his shit together enough to show you one ounce of how I felt about you.”
Dean’s anger ran out, and the sadness remained. He slid down the wall and sat with his head in his hands. He whispered, “You are divine , Castiel. And you said I made you care, that I showed you how, and if that’s true …” He shuddered. “You had a piss poor example of caring. And you had an even shittier example of love.”
Dean could feel Castiel move across the dungeon and sit beside him, but Dean couldn’t force himself to look up, even when Castiel began to speak.
“I have lived for thousands of your human lifetimes. People love for every conceivable reason, from lust to a parental bond to a sense of brotherhood to … romantic love. Throughout that time, I have been fascinated by how humans believe love to be a thing you must be worthy of, as if the person who loves them judges them and declares them fit for purpose before allowing their feelings to take hold.”
Castiel took Dean’s hand then. “Dean, the first time I saw you, you were covered in someone else’s blood. Your essence radiated terror and rage. I knew what you were capable of. I saw the evidence of it before my eyes. I could hear the thousands of souls you tortured screaming as I laid a hand on you. But my first thought, my only thought, was that I loved you. Perhaps not in the way that I do now, or the way humans perceive love, but I knew in that moment that our bond was different than the one I shared with my brothers or with my father. I had never felt anything else before then, no other emotion. It terrified me, Dean. Do you not think that if I had a choice, that if I did not feel so very deeply, that I would have carried you out of Hell that day? That I would have taken the care to remake you the way that I did?
I took such care of you, Dean. You must understand, the other angels, they did not care what form you were in. They just needed you on Earth. I wanted you to be just as you were, every hallowed inch of you. It was painstaking. It took a great deal of energy. I could not have continued without the love I had for you. And when I first saw the result of my handiwork in that barn, I could not believe that you did not see what I saw. That you could not see that you were made in my image, and that you were made holy by my love.”
Castiel moved his hand to Dean’s face, turning it towards his own. Dean could feel the tears streaming down his face, but made no move to stop them. He barely breathed, and fixed his gaze on the space above Castiel’s head rather than look the angel in the eye. Castiel continued.
“Over the years that I have spent with you, Dean, the way I loved you changed. Its closest analogue, and perhaps the easiest for you to comprehend, is romantic love. It is how I would choose to describe it to others. But the bond you and I have transcends any idea of love you or any human has ever had. It encompasses all the kinds of love there are in the universe. I want you, I choose you, I love you, in all of the ways that exist. And it has nothing to do with you being worthy of it. It just is, and it will always be. And I am glad of it. Loving you, all of you, is my happiness, Dean. I don’t need you to understand it, or trust it. I just need you to know it and feel it.”
As Dean stared into Castiel’s patient eyes, Castiel took Dean’s hand and moved it to his own heart. “Can you feel it, Dean? Can you feel how I love you?”
And suddenly Dean was flying, flying through time and space and stars. He saw the universe as Castiel saw it, saw its unending brilliance and light. He felt a surge of warmth like he’d never felt, and he recognized it as the safety he’d always felt with Castiel at his side. This was devotion, this was worship, this was faith. This was love. And this precious gift was Dean’s to have and to hold. His angel loved him, and it was good and it was right that he did.
Dean broke down into sobs as Castiel held him close. “I love you, Castiel,” he choked out, needing his angel to understand as Castiel had made him understand. “I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you, Cas.”
Dean could feel Castiel relax, felt him lean into Dean. They fit together like puzzle pieces on the cold floor, and it made Dean grieve for the years they’d wasted. But some part of him felt that it had to happen like this, or he wouldn’t have believed Castiel’s words. Dean felt the fight drain from his body, and the silence of the dungeon no longer felt so all encompassing.
After what felt like hours, Dean moved to stand. Castiel helped him to his feet, and Dean shyly took Castiel’s hand. “Look at us,” Dean joked, “we’re a mess.”
Castiel smiled even as his eyes were wet. “Perhaps. But that is not new for us.”
Dean laughed. “Damn right, it’s not.” He threw his arm around his angel, and they walked out of the dungeon and through the bunker. When they reached Dean’s room, he could feel Castiel hesitate. Dean gently led Castiel inside and shut the door.
Dean knew what he needed, and he decided to just ask for it, for once. “Cas, would you … would you stay with me tonight? Just for a while. I just … I need … I need to feel you here. I need to know you’re safe.”
Castiel guided Dean to the edge of the bed, and Dean instinctively sat down. “Yes, of course, Dean. Anything you need.”
Dean crawled under the covers, and Castiel followed slowly, almost reverently. He wrapped himself around Dean, holding Dean’s hand and pulling him close. “You can rest,” Castiel murmured. “I am here.”
Dean felt himself slip away, lulled into a peace he had never felt before. Just before the darkness of sleep took him, he squeezed Castiel’s hand. “My angel,” he exhaled, and all was well.