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When the angel Castiel returned from the Empty, things were unsettlingly unchanged. There had been a brief commotion when the rescue had occurred, some tears shed the day it happened. And then things had promptly returned to the way they were. Yes, the world wasn’t ending, but hunting never stopped.
Dean had not spoken one word of the moments before Cas was taken to the Empty. This was the only difference in their lives. Dean would not look his friend in the eye. Cas understood, he’d seen enough human behavior over the years to recognize all the signs of rejection. He accepted it, and left it alone.
Unfortunately, Sam did not hold the same sentiment. It had taken three weeks of silence and awkward spans of small talk to break him, in his defense. At a certain point, a man loses the will to bite his tongue.
“So are you just never going to speak to him again?” was the choice of words he used when he finally broke and cornered Dean. It had been a normal Sunday, normal aside from the tension and stoicism, anyway. Cas seemed to feel a bit too claustrophobic (or maybe the continued avoidance coming from a certain hunter eventually wore him down) and he had left to do God knows what.
Dean attempted to play dumb at first, which was even more annoying.
“What?”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” Dean threw his hands up, as if Sam was speaking a different language. Truth be told, the language was common sense and Dean was out of practice. Sam watched his brother, sitting on that stupid, frumpy couch drinking a beer. He was doing everything he could to appear normal, Sam could see that now.
“Act like you have no idea what I’m talking about,” Sam elaborated while crossing the room to sit in the armchair next to Dean, who still had that stupid look on his face.
His brother sighed like he was dealing with a small child, “That’s because I do have no idea what you’re talking about, Sammy.” Sam hated that. The use of the nickname to get out of having a serious conversation.
“Dean, I’m not going to humor you. It’s starting to affect him, I can tell,” he tried again, “Why? Why aren’t you talking?” This seemed to do something. For one fleeting moment, Dean’s eyes were open, vulnerable. And then they darkened, and he built his walls up again.
“It’s not your business.”
“It is my damn business if I’m living with the both of you.”
“I can’t!” Dean’s voice broke as he finally locked eyes with his brother, “I can’t.” Silence. Tears were beginning to form in the corners of his eyes as he whipped his head up to look at Sam. Sam just watched him, wondering what in the hell made him so defensive. He did his best to read the emotion in Dean’s gaze, but there was something deeper there. Something he couldn’t quite see.
Sam just repeated, “Why? Why, Dean?” But his brother’s eyes were already on the TV again, tears gone, never shed. Sam sighed and rose from the chair. Clearly he wasn’t getting anywhere with his brother, so why lose sleep over it?
“Goodnight, Dean.” He assumed there would be no response and kept walking to his room in the bunker.
But, after a moment, a low voice called out into the quiet, “Goodnight.”
Meanwhile, Cas was hiking. Gross, sweaty, human hiking. He wasn’t exactly sure what brought it on, but it was the only thing that seemed appetizing. Anything was preferable to watching Dean loathe him from afar.
He was being held at arm's length, being warned for getting too close. It shouldn’t hurt a celestial being, but it did. Cas tried to tell himself it was normal, that it would pass. But it never did, it just kept hurting. He’d started to get used to the sinking feeling under his skin. He woke up, there was pain. He went to sleep, there was pain.
Yes, Cas had started to sleep. Angels didn’t need sleep, it was pretty much useless. But, he had discovered it was the only escape from Dean, the silence, and the aching. So, he slept for hours, longer than either of the brothers. Once he started, Cas found it so relieving, he couldn’t stop.
But tonight, sleep would not come.
So, he was hiking.
Left alone with his thoughts, Cas found himself going back to the day he left.
Knowing you has changed me. Fuck, why did he do that? He’d thought the Empty would take him and he’d never see Sam or Dean again. Now he had to live everyday with the cold, hard truth. Dean did not want any part of him.
Cas was so lost in staring at the night sky reminiscing, he didn’t hear the footsteps coming from behind him. This would come to bite him in the ass.
“Cas.” The voice struck him like a blow. Dean. Cas would know that voice anywhere. Dean was standing at his right shoulder, staring over the cliff’s edge at the stars just like Cas. He didn’t know what the hunter was going to say, but he knew it wasn’t going to be good.
“Hello, Dean,” was what he managed to say. Cas felt him stiffen next to him, like the use of his name was a physical burn. Dean remained silent, just staring, unblinking. Cas, unfortunately, could only focus on the outline of his face in the dark. He was beautiful. But, Cas didn’t tell him, didn’t reveal how in love he was.
“Why are you here?” Cas asked. He wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.
Dean cleared his throat, “Sam wants to know why we aren’t talking.” Cas didn’t know what to say to that. What response could he possibly give? He didn’t even know they were acknowledging the silence, let alone talking about it in the dark. In the romantic, dark woods… all alone…
Cas shook his head, “What did you tell him?” Dean remained silent, stoic. But, he finally turned to look at Cas. The look in eyes would haunt him forever. The overwhelming emotion, unspeakable pain, and the angel came to a realization. It was all his fault. The hurt in Dean’s face, how much he was struggling. Cas had done this to him, all because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
Dean’s voice wavered as he murmured, “What did you want me to say?” when Cas said nothing, he added, “I didn’t tell him anything.”
Cas released a breath, but the words were not comforting. They were an assurance of impending doom.
“We have to tell him something,” he replied, finally, “He’ll just get more…”
“The word you’re looking for is ‘annoying,’” Dean snorted and the sound was enough to bring Cas to his knees. It felt like it had, before, for a moment, as warmth spread all over his body.
Cas turned to look at his friend, a grin on his face, “Actually, I was going to say ‘persistent.’” Dean smiled softly at him, their eyes meeting. He was so close, Cas could barely breathe, but he reminded himself of the truth. Dean didn’t want him. So, he turned back to the sky.
“Maybe we should just tell him the truth,” Dean grumbled, the warmth and amusement gone from his voice. Cas felt the loss like it was a physical touch.
He chuckled darkly, unable to keep the bitterness from rising up, “And what is that?” He felt the man beside him flinch, and he immediately felt the guilt prick at his skin. It wasn’t Dean’s fault that he didn’t feel the same.
The hunter breathed deeply, “Listen, Cas-”
“Don’t,” Cas cut him off, turning to look at him again. Dean’s gaze locked with his, eyes glazed over, tears pricking the edges. The angel took a moment, prepared to carry the burden for his friend. He was thrown back to the night he’d raised Dean from Hell. He’d known even then, that this man was special. Dean had always been special. Cas loved him for it, the way he could make people care, the way he could make him care. He was truly changed, truly in love.
But that was not what Castiel said to Dean Winchester.
Instead, the words that came out of his mouth were, “It’s okay, Dean. It was… to lure the Empty to me. You don’t… We don’t need to talk about it. It was a political move, I’m sorry, I should’ve been clearer.”
He would regret these words for the rest of his life.
Dean wasn’t stupid, contrary to popular belief. He knew Cas was lying to him, he just wasn’t sure why. He’d been there that day. The day his favorite person (?) was taken away from him and he was sure he’d never see him again. He’d been sure Cas was dead. But, then, they’d found a way to bring him back. Cas walked the halls of the bunker, breathing, alive.
It’d been four days since the night of the hike. Dean wasn’t sure what to do, how to act, or even what the hell to say. Cas was wallowing, sulking, and Sam was glowering at him the whole time.
But Dean wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the Now, where his friend was perfectly fine. He was stuck in the Then, that day when his world ended. His world ended, and now he was expected to go on living? Expected to look Castiel in the eye after he failed him? After he failed to save him, to find any other way out?
“Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are. You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know.” Castiel was crying, Dean was crying and he didn’t even know why. It felt like an ending.
"You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of Hell... Knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack... I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me, Dean.”
Dean couldn’t escape the words, the harsh truth written in them. The love he now knew to be a two-way street. They’d run out of time, they had no more fucking time. All because Dean was too afraid to say anything and Cas made a stupid deal with the Empty. And Dean was so angry with Cas, for doing this to him. For confessing the beautiful love and then leaving him all alone. Because why now? Now that he had nothing to fight for?
“Why does this sound like a goodbye?” Dean heard himself say the words, but he couldn’t remember thinking them. Couldn’t remember anything except the things burned into his brain, the wonderful, tragic things that had come from Castiel’s mouth.
“Because it is.” And he knew it, damn it. Dean racked his mind, the encyclopedia of random things he’d collected over the years. Any scrap of knowledge that could save Cas, could save them, what they could’ve been. He took a breath, ready to tell him, ready to admit the deepest part of him. But, Cas was already placing a hand on his shoulder. The gesture was so platonic, Dean wanted to kill himself.
But, everything faded away as Cas murmured, “I love you.” The three words that stayed with him, buried themselves deep into his ribs, burned there like a Enochian script.
Dean wanted more than anything to return the sentiment, but the Empty hadn’t arrived, so what if… What if his reciprocating was truly the moment Cas would be taken away? So many technicalities and so many things Dean wanted to say.
“Don’t do this, Cas,” was all he could manage. The angel looked at him with such love, such compassion.
“Cas-”
“Goodbye, Dean.”
Dean shot upward in his bed, sweat soaked in his sheets. He was panting heavily, hands and knees shaking. He’d had the nightmare again. Just as he had every night since Cas had left. He put his face in his hands and tried to breathe. Tried to remind himself that the angel was in the other room, just around the corner.
But was Cas really there? Or had it all been some horrible dream? The thought alone was enough to spur him into a panic. Dean rushed to his feet and immediately struggled to remain standing. The lack of food and sleep was starting to get to him.
Dean didn’t care, he swung open his door and marched into the kitchen. It was probably around 3 A.M. and Sam was snoring in his room. But Dean didn’t hear it, didn’t notice anything except the trenchcoat left on the couch, right where Dean had tossed it after Cas had gone.
Alarm went through every single nerve in his body. It had been a dream, Cas was still in the Empty, and he had left him all alone. Dean had failed his friend, the thing most important to him. No amount of love was going to bring him back, especially the stupid kind of love Dean had. Because his track record of keeping loved ones alive was so awful.
And then he was falling to his knees, not bothering to pray. Not when the only angel who gave a damn about him probably didn’t want to hear from him anyway. Dean couldn’t see anything, couldn’t feel anything, his chest tightened, vision blurred. He was having an anxiety attack, but who fucking cared? He wanted to die, he wanted this to kill him. Then he could suffer in Hell alone.
But Dean suddenly felt hands on his cheeks. Soft, gentle, loving hands. Hands that could only belong to one hyper annoying, frustrating, and all around dumbfounding angel.
Dean raised his head, just like he had when he was beaten bloody by him, “Cas.” The name was a breath, barely a sound. But Castiel’s blue eyes shone with a kindness that left him struggling for air. Or maybe that was the anxiety attack.
“Hello, Dean.” The angel smiled softly down at him. And Dean was so tired of hiding, he didn’t even care, he let his hands wander up to hold Cas’s. He pressed them to his face, breathing in the scent of him.
“I-” Dean’s voice broke, “I had a dream, you were still…” He searched Castiel’s face, but found nothing but compassion there. Dean tried to rise to his feet and Cas helped him gently, until he was standing face to face with the angel. Just as he had that night.
But, this time he wanted it to be different, “Cas, I know it wasn’t a political move.”
His friend shook his head, “It’s okay, Dean. I knew you didn’t feel the same, I just wanted you to know. It was… a mistake. If we play our cards right, we can move past this.” Dean was so appalled that he stood in silence for a solid minute. Cas’s voice was so defeated, eyes so sad. How could this wonderful being in front of him think…?
Dean placed his hands on Cas’s shoulders, “Hey, look at me,” his friend obeyed, “The only mistake was your stubborn ass leaving me before I could…” He was choking up, struggling to get through this. He was always lagging behind, emotionally stunted. But, he took a deep breath and tried again.
“I love you, too, okay?” Dean finally said the words. The look of utter shock on Cas’s face made everything almost worth it. Losing him to the Empty, the world almost ending, his mother dying… everything.
Dean continued, now unable to stop the flood now that it’d been released, “And I know I’m difficult. I know you might not want this. You tried to push me away and… I don’t know if it was because you were scared or because you didn’t want us to be… You know. But, just tell me and I’ll do whatever you want because I do love you, Cas. I swear it, and-”
Dean Winchester was successfully shut up for maybe the third time in his lifetime. All it took was the angel Castiel returning from the dead, admitting his love, a few years of pining, and now the most beautiful kiss he’d ever been a part of.
Cas tasted heavenly. Dean tasted like… so wonderfully like Dean. They were crying, kissing and crying. Running hands through hair, tearing off buttons, falling on couches, doing pretty much anything they could to be closer to each other.
And when they fell asleep, it was in Dean’s bed. And he did not dream of that night. He dreamt of the future.
Sam found the scattered clothes in the morning. He also observed the smiles and overall improved moods the entire day. His only thought was something so simple, but so sweet.
Cas kissed Dean on a Thursday.