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Castiel is back from the Empty, and Chuck is out of their lives permanently. Now, everything can be normal. Or, whatever normal is for them. Dean doesn’t really know what to do or how to feel about it.
The idea of normal is so bizarre to him, but with no real threat on the horizon and other hunters around to take care of the everyday types of monsters, he’s fine to step back. Even if it is weird, staring at the job application sitting on his nightstand. It makes sense for him to get a job; he doubts he could ever truly retire from doing some kind of work at all, but he can handle something other than hunting. He even goes so far as to say that he thinks he’d enjoy working on cars, but it's going to take some getting used to.
Sam is supportive, but even Dean can’t ignore the irony of his little brother staying in the hunting game when he decides to tap out early. Still, his brother is taking a step back, deciding to take on a Bobby-type role with all the information in the bunker, acting as a lifeline for hunters all around the United States. After all, he has Eileen to think about, who doesn’t necessarily appreciate the coddling that Sam calls 'being a proper gentleman'. Dean is too busy making the connection that Sam sure as hell didn’t pick up that behavior from their father to realize his little brother got it from him.
Eileen still goes out on hunts sometimes; she is used to working by herself after all, and it makes Sam hilariously anxious every time. She is used to his overbearing nature by now, and Dean has gotten used to the way he frets around the bunker the entire time she’s gone. It’s almost enough for Dean to want to kick the poor kid out, except for the fact that it’s really Dean who wants to get his own place. A true house, with a kitchen not from the early 1900s and windows. Lots of windows. Dean misses the sunlight. It's just not the same in the bunker—all brick and concrete, and rooms with random ancient artifacts. It’s kind of hard for him to commit to leaving the life behind if he were to come home to a hunter-infused environment every day. But Dean doesn’t want to move somewhere by himself.
The obvious answer is, of course, Cas.
But he cringes just thinking about it. Dean has been putting the whole ‘Castiel Thing’ in a box labeled ‘deal with later.' Later, which unfortunately seems to mean right about now. It’s almost made living in the bunker more unbearable than having to deal with Sam’s dramatic mood swings. Cas lives with them here, and in attempts to avoid the angel at all costs, he has practically become a fixture against the hard, cold walls with how much he lingers in the shadows. Dean can’t tell whether the lack of contact is more impossible to bear knowing Cas could easily find him if he wanted.
And it’s not that he dislikes Cas. It’s quite the opposite. Dean is ecstatic to get the angel back. That night in the dungeon has got to be the worst moment of his life. This is frustrating, Dean thinks, because it also easily competes for the best moment of his life. So the issue isn't really that Dean dislikes Cas, that he is repulsed by him, or that he can’t handle the idea of his best friend being gay for him. Not at all. No matter what Sam may think. The problem he faces now is the same problem he normally does.
He’s afraid.
And that’s not something he can easily admit, but he’s had some time to think about it. In fact, it’s kind of all he really thinks about—mindless television playing in the background as he pretends that he's not hyperfocused on the way he loves the guy back. But the very thought makes his hands shake because he’s not ready to admit how much he means it. How much he needs it. He wants so badly to be with Cas, to hold his hand, kiss him, and tell him that he loves him too—so much so that he’d apologize for the overwhelming amount of longing he has to be giving off if he weren’t so afraid of looking his problem in the face.
It’s not really fair to the angel; Dean knows this, but he also knows that Cas expected him to not love him back. Which hurts worse, Dean thinks, than staying within the same four walls, counting the cracks in the brick and the tiles in his bathroom. Does Cas really think that he’s such a douchebag that he wouldn't be affected by the years they’ve spent together? Does he really think that even though the angel has been affected so much by Dean to lead him to rebel against God himself, Dean would feel nothing in return? And Dean knows that he hasn’t given the angel that much to work with, with how much he loves to call the guy ‘brother’ and how much he hates chick-flick moments, but Cas knows him so well. That’s the real kicker. Cas knows him so well that Dean had kind of assumed all their near-miss moments of almost saying something about the thing between them would be enough for the angel to fill in the blanks.
In fact, he would be kind of pissed about the whole idea of it if he hadn’t been too busy crying when Cas told him in the first place.
And now, well, it all seems too good to be true.
Dean had worked up the courage to tell him in Purgatory—the second time around—and Cas had cut him off. He said that he had heard his prayer, goddammit; wasn't that obvious enough? Now, he realizes that Cas had probably cut him off from finishing his confession, likely due to his fear of the Empty coming to snatch him up. Dean thinks that’s the only logical explanation for it. Cas had to have known what Dean was going to say and didn’t want the Shadow to collect early. But if that’s the case, why did he insist in his confession that Dean wasn’t required to treat him any differently than before?
He supposes that now it’s too late for him to bring up that concern. He’s been avoiding the angel ever since he got back from the Empty, and that looks like a pretty definite answer on his part. And again, that’s not the signal that Dean means to send. He’s just scared, like he said. Too good to be true. So what if Chuck is gone and Jack is God? Nothing ever good happens to Dean Winchester, not for long. Sam thinks he’s catastrophizing, but Sam also listens to the advice given by shrinks, so he tells the Sam-like voice in his head to shut the fuck up.
The point is, Dean thinks, that Cas is still an angel. And what if Dean does finally man up and tell Cas that he loves him back? The first miracle would be for Cas to believe him. And the second, well, the second would be the Empty not coming for Cas again. Or, worse, somehow, that Dean’s love confession isn’t a happy enough moment for Cas for the Empty to be a threat. He isn’t really sure how the deal with the Shadow works, but Dean is too afraid to risk it again. He doesn’t want to lose Cas. He can’t handle him dying. Not again. So he curls up on his bed with Miracle tucked up against his feet and pretends that losing him this way doesn’t hurt him just as badly.
Do you remember what he said earlier? How could Cas easily find him whenever he wanted to? Yeah, he does that. And Dean was not any more prepared to handle that than when he first started hiding in his room.
"Dean," Cas calls his name from the doorway of his room, the light from the hall illuminating him intimidatingly. Miracle winds her way around the angel’s legs and hops up onto the bed next to Dean, acknowledging his presence. Traitor. Now that he thinks about it, he's kind of gift-wrapped himself, staying in his room all the time. It doesn’t make him particularly hard to find. "I was hoping we could talk."
"Yeah, sure thing—" The word 'buddy' dissolves like ash on his tongue before it can cross his lips. It’s not fair, Dean thinks, that he wants to call him things like Babe and Honey, the light of my life, the moon to my stars, my only reason for living, the breath of my lung, and the apple of my eye. Really, it’s not, because Dean is the one stopping himself from it. The temptation is there, settling heavily against his sternum as Cas moves deeper into the room. "What did you want to talk about?" He asks as if he doesn’t know. As if he doesn’t hang himself with the endless possibilities of it every single day. Like Dean hasn't been house hunting, looking for quaint little places with large backyards—enough for a dog and garden—and a single bedroom, designed for two.
"I think you know," Cas says heavily, as if he'd really rather be anywhere else.
Look what I’ve done, Dean thinks to himself. Am I really that hard to love? But he stops himself there before he continues to make everything about himself as if he isn’t the center of the problem.
"Yeah, I know." He says, grounding himself by running a hand through Miracle’s fur.
"Dean, I don’t regret doing what I did or saying what I said. And I don’t expect you to reciprocate in any way, but I had hoped that we could still be friends." Cas explains.
Dean just wants to kiss him. He wants to not be paralyzed by fear; he wants to not have dreams of Cas being taken away again, leaving his life as empty as the Shadow itself. And Dean wants to leave hunting for good. He wants to get a normal job and live in a normal house. But he wants to leave all the threats of supernatural things behind when he does. He can’t bear the idea of losing his dream house and life to another incident with the Empty, like that night in the basement.
"But I understand if that’s too much for you," Cas says, and there’s no fight in his voice. Like he’s just giving up. "I decided to give it some time, but you seem resolute in your attempts to avoid me," Cas speaks with such discouragement that Dean can practically feel the impending doom fill the room, like a summer storm. "I think it might be best if I return to heaven. Jack would be more than amenable to having me around, and then perhaps you could get on with the rest of your life. I thought it might be best to let you know before I leave. And Sam too, of course. I know you have a tendency to blame yourself for these things, so I wanted you to know—"
"What the hell, Cas?" Dean says. He'd be angry if he wasn't so stunned. It's his fault anyway. Whoever said that it would hurt less if you pushed someone else away first instead of waiting for them to leave on their own was wrong. Cas dying in the past had been terrible. Awful. A series of the worst possible things to happen to him. But this? Cas being alive and leaving because he thinks Dean didn’t want him around?
"I don’t understand," Cas says with such sincerity that Dean wishes he could turn back time to have told Cas he loved him when he first got back, just to avoid this absolutely soul-crushing moment.
"The Empty," Dean says, trying to form coherent thoughts. If he convinces Cas to stay, he needs to know that he won't get ripped away from him. "Will it come back?"
"No."
"And you’re sure? Like nothing else is going to trigger your moment of happiness and take you away from me?" Dean asks like a fool. Like he wasn't the one who had pushed Cas away initially. Like he wasn’t the one who didn’t tell him to stay.
"No, Dean," Cas reassures. "When Jack got me out, he exchanged my grace for the promise to put the Empty to sleep for the rest of time. It wasn’t too happy with the compromise," Cas says a bit fondly, like the entity's suffering was amusing to him. "But the few years it had been awake were about all it could take. Especially after Jack exploded and made it worse. So, yes, Dean. I am perfectly safe from the Shadow."
Dean sits there as if he hasn't wasted a bunch more of their time by waiting this long to ask such a simple question.
"Is this what you have been worrying about?" Cas asks, and Dean is floored by the assumption that Cas doesn’t think it’s a problem Dean would have concerns about.
"Of course!" Dean explodes. "You really don’t think I care about you?" He asks in disbelief.
"You have been giving some rather mixed signals, Dean," Cas replies as if he hadn’t stolen the same line of thinking out of the hunter's brain.
"I just… I need to be sure," Dean emphasizes. "I want. Oh, Cas, how I want. But I can’t lose you again. And if there’s even the slightest chance that it might happen, I can’t let myself commit to you. It’s selfish; I know it’s selfish. But I can’t do that again."
"It’s not selfish to take care of yourself, Dean," Cas says simply, as if it doesn't go against anything Dean has ever been told. "I wish you had brought this up to me earlier, but I know talks like these are hard for you. I appreciate you asking me now." Cas praises Dean, as if he deserved to be rewarded for barely being able to do the bare minimum. "Does this mean that you won't hide anymore and we can go back to being friends?"
"What? Dude, no." Dean says, harshly before he can even think about it, and Cas’s face falls again. "Did you not hear anything I said?" He continues before Cas can get any further. "I want more with you. I want... everything. I mean, shit, Cas, I don’t have some grand speech like you did for me, but I want all of it and more. I want to stop hunting, leave this musty bunker, and buy a house with you and Miracle. I want to work a normal job and come home and cook for us, kiss you, and fall asleep together. I want to help you plant a garden out back and take Miracle on walks together and hold your hand and kiss you some more. I’ve loved you for a very long time, Castiel, and one of these days it’s going to kill me."
"That was a pretty good speech, in my opinion," Cas says wetly.
"Now you know how I feel," Dean says, as if his eyes aren’t wet as well.
"I take it you don't want me to return to heaven, then?"
"Don’t you dare." Dean laughs, just so he doesn’t cry. "Come here." He says, and pulls Cas close, causing him to fall onto the bed next to him. "What can I do to make you stay?"
"That was pretty convincing. A kiss would help."
Dean can’t help but laugh. "Yeah, okay. I can do that."
"I need you to promise me something," Cas says after they pull apart. Dean blinks at him, his brain fuzzy from the kiss. Cas puts a hand on his chest, preventing him from going back in for a second one. "Dean."
"What?"
"I need you to promise me. You can’t do this again. You must communicate with me. I need you to do that for me. I know it’s hard for you, but this has been a disaster. Imagine if I had left for Heaven without stopping by your room first."
"I know." Dean groans, dropping his head to rest on Cas’s shoulder instead. "I’m sorry."
"I know you are. And I love you. But you have to promise."
"I promise that I’ll try," Dean says.
"All I ask is for you to try. Thank you." Cas leans in, letting his hand fall away so they can kiss once more.
"Hey, Cas," Dean says after a moment, as Miracle squirms on the bed next to them. "How do you feel about house hunting?"