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Castiel stands in front of the mirror. He stares at himself, runs his hands down over the sleeves of his jacket, tracing the blue-silver embroidery at the cuffs, around his neck. The embroidery runs diagonally across his chest, down his hip, and across the hem of his jacket where it circles his thighs. His slacks and the leather of his boots are dyed a dark blue. They don’t fit as well as they did a month ago, but a month ago, Castiel had-
Castiel cuts the thought off and runs his hands through his hair. Hannah comes in the room then.
“Castiel,” she chides, taking his hands and holding them for a moment. She lets go of one and smooths down his hair, sliding her fingers through it gently to tame it. She squeezes his other hand before letting go.
“Here, Castiel. You need to eat something. Michael would be displeased if you fainted.” She hands him an apple and a mug of mulled wine.
Castiel takes both from her. He bites into the apple, making the bite as small as he can. He lets it sit on tongue for a moment, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth as nausea rises up. He chews slowly, then swallows forcefully. It sticks in his throat so he washes it down with a mouthful of wine.
He takes a second, then a third bite before it becomes too much and he puts both the apple and the wine down. He braces himself against the desk. Hannah stands silent for a moment before she touches his shoulder.
“Gabriel is waiting for you in the anteroom.” She squeezes. “It will be alright, Castiel.”
Castiel closes his eyes. It won’t be alright, but that is his own fault. He knows he could not have told Michael, not as Dean had wanted, but perhaps if he had been able to make Dean understand what was at risk-
“Just tell him, Cas! Tell him and leave. Come with me.”
“I can’t, Dean. Michael is- He won’t- Trying to leave would look like treason to him, and he will-”
Castiel had choked on the words then. If he had been able to tell Dean that Michael would have killed Dean, killed Dean’s family, then perhaps Dean would have understood what was at risk.
Lucifer’s leaving had turned Michael paranoid and suspicious. His anger, his grief had soured and left Castiel and his siblings struggling to maintain the illusion that Michael was still the ruler he had once been. In his grief, Michael had come down hardest on his family, but Castiel had found it tolerable- until Michael had demanded he marry. Castiel was so far down in the line of succession, after Michael’s children, their siblings, and their siblings’ children, that he didn’t understand why, but Michael insisted on expanding their family line.
A few years ago, Castiel would have obeyed Michael with resignation, but a few years ago, he had not met Dean. He had not known what it was to love as he did with Dean. The request had destroyed him, but not as much as Dean’s reaction had.
“If you plan on going through with this, Cas, then you need to get out.”
“Dean-”
“No, Cas. I mean it. Get out. I won’t be anyone’s whore, not even yours.”
“Dean. That’s not-”
“Get out. Now.”
“Fine, Dean. I will leave, but please know, please, that I love you, and if-”
“No, Cas. If you loved me, you wouldn’t do this. Go! And don’t bother coming back!”
Castiel had left. He had gone home and closed himself in his room for the first week. At the end of it, Gabriel had come into his room, climbed into Castiel’s bed with him, and sat shoulder-to-shoulder with him. They had watched the sun crawl across his bed and up the wall before fading. Neither of them had risen to light candles, and in the dark, Gabriel had spoken:
“It won’t ever stop hurting. You’ll miss him every day, but you’ll learn to work around it. Learn to get through the day, to see past it.”
Castiel had closed his eyes and rested his head against Gabriel’s shoulder. Gabriel had lost Kali to Michael as he was losing Dean. Kali had been a fierce woman. Even her lovers had said she was a hard woman who didn’t know how to love, but then Kali and Gabriel had met. Gabriel, who had been as separate as Kali, who had loved to torment his family and had no reverence for anything, had fallen in love hard and fast- and Kali had loved him back. Castiel had seen them soften for each other. When Kali had died- had been murdered- Castiel had been the only one to reach Gabriel in his grief, but Gabriel had not been the same since. Castiel did not believe he ever would be.
At least Dean still breathed, Castiel thought with shame. He was lost to Castiel, but Castiel would be able to go to bed at night knowing he had protected Dean. If Gabriel could wake every day knowing what he had lost, then Castiel could do the same- and he had. He had woken the next morning and climbed from his bed. He had dressed and gone to breakfast. He hadn’t been able to eat, but he sat there and endured, and when he had caught Gabriel’s proud look, he clung to it.
Stepping into the antechamber on this day, he finds Gabriel waiting for him. Gabriel’s grinning and it throws Castiel off, causing him to falter as he enters the room.
“Gabriel?”
Faint hope swims to life in Castiel’s chest, but dies again quickly when Gabriel strides up to him and starts fussing with his clothes, smoothing out wrinkles Castiel is certain are not really there.
“Man, you should have seen the drama, baby bro.”
“Oh?”
“Mmm... apparently the person who wrote up the call for interested matches for our dearest Cassie was a bit- ah- shall we say vague?”
“Vague? Gabriel, what are you talking about?” Gabriel had been the one to write up the announcement, but Michael had approved it.
Gabriel hums a questioning noise. “Seems the invitation was left open to commoners as well as men.” Gabriel looks up at him then, and Castiel finds he can’t breathe, his chest constricting. “And wouldn’t you know it, but a man has showed up arguing that he has the right to be part of the proceedings.”
“Gabriel-”
Gabriel cuts him off, pushing him toward the door. “You should have seen the fuss he kicked up. Michael was fit to be tied.” Gabriel laughs. “But he signed it!”
“Gabriel, is-”
“Now, now, Cassie, can’t keep your audience waiting!” Gabriel shoves him through the door.
Castiel takes a moment to orient himself and finds Michael staring at him, anger darkening his face. He gestures toward the floor where Castiel is to stand with Hannah and one of his servants, meeting each of the interested parties and denoting their acceptability. Castiel looks through the crowds of styled hair and elegant dresses, hoping to find the man Gabriel mentioned. Castiel cannot bring himself to hope it is Dean, but still he looks, still he feels disappointed when he finds no one.
When the first woman steps forward, Castiel forces himself to focus. He smiles for each of them, patiently listening as they give their names and pedigrees. He lasts through minutes of polite conversation before glancing at Hannah and she steps forward to guide them away. Castiel gives no one’s name to the servant waiting.
Hours later, the list is still blank and Castiel can feel Michael’s heavy stare. Hannah clutches at Castiel’s arm and leans in. “You must pick one of them, Castiel,” she whispers.
Castiel looks at her to meet her gaze. She is frowning, but her eyes are sad, sympathetic. Castiel forces a smile and nods. He turns to the person waiting next and freezes.
Dean stands before him. He is wearing new clothes- a suit of black and blue, embroidered just as Castiel’s is though the opening of Dean’s jacket cuts directly down the front of his chest instead of across. He wears it well, looks as beautiful as he always has despite the dark shadows under his eyes.
He waits a few steps from Castiel, his green eyes hesitant. Castiel sucks in a breath and holds himself rigid, afraid to hope.
Dean catches the way Castiel stiffens, and his mouth twists. He steps forward when Hannah gestures for him.
“Your name?” she asks.
“Dean Winchester.”
“Your, ah-” Hannah stops, unsure how to phrase the question. Dean is not from a noble family, and she cannot ask for his heritage. Dean does not look away from Castiel, but he lifts his chin, still prideful of who he is, and Castiel cannot help the smile that curls his lips.
“I’m a blacksmith,” Dean says, “Son of John Winchester and Mary Campbell and co-owner of the Winchester Foundry.”
“You are interested in marrying Prince Castiel?”
Castiel feels the smile drop from his face. Dean’s banishment still rings in his ears, even these weeks later. He does not know why Dean has chosen to come today.
Dean’s mouth twists into that hard expression again, but he still answers, “I am.”
“Why?” Castiel whispers before he can stop himself. “Why are you here, Dean?”
Dean hesitates then, his eyes dropping away from Castiel’s. Next to him, Hannah has gone still. Castiel does not know how long they stand like that, but with each moment, the tightness in his chest grows worse. He wants to touch Dean, to drag Dean into his arms and never let go, but he cannot. Dean is the one who chased him away. If Dean would ask, then Castiel would fall willingly to his knees, but Dean does not ask. He stands silent, looking away from Castiel, and Castiel, who had thought he had been broken completely, learns that he was wrong.
Castiel steps back, away from Dean, and the movement catches Dean’s attention. He jerks his head up, steps forward and catches Castiel by the wrist. Hannah sucks in a warning breath. Behind them, Castiel hears the scuffing of chairs.
“Cas, Cas, please.” Dean’s face is open, wounded. Pain bleeds across his expression and he steps closer to Castiel. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- Cas, please.”
Castiel looks away from Dean’s sorrow. He looks down at Dean’s chest, watching it rise and fall. He realizes that he is trembling and he closes his eyes. Dean’s fingers tighten around his wrist. He feels them loosen, and for a brief moment, he panics, but then Dean is tightening his grip, pulling on Castiel’s wrist. Castiel follows the tug and finds himself wrapped in Dean’s arms.
Dean whispers apologies into Castiel’s neck. For a long moment, Castiel does not know what to do. Dean sighs, then says, “Please, Cas, I need you. I love you.”
Castiel’s chest heaves with a sob, and he wraps his arms around Dean’s waist, digs his fingers into the back of Dean’s jacket. “I thought you hated me.”
Dean’s arms tighten. “Cas, no. I’m sorry; I was angry, but I should have- we should have- I don’t know- talked, found a way.”
Castiel opens his eyes then, pulling back from Dean to take in his face. “Gabriel found one for us. Michael agreed to the terms of the contract.”
Dean frowns, uncomprehending. “Meaning?”
“If you came here as a suitor, he has to accept you.”
Dean stares at him, then smiles widely. “Gabriel was the one who told me to come today.”
“Michael will still hate you. He wants a child.”
“We’ll find a way, Cas. I won’t let you go this time.”
Castiel tightens his arms around Dean’s waist, presses his face into Dean’s shoulder briefly. “You’d better not,” he whispers.
Then he lets go and turns to face Michael.