Chapter Text
Cas: It sounds so simple when you say it like that. Where were you when I needed to hear it?
Dean: I was there.
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Dean takes a step toward the ring of holy fire. It seems hesitant, like he is unsure of his next move.
He can hear the intake of Dean’s breath as he takes a final step over the holy fire.
Castiel can’t bare to look at Dean’s face, so his gaze follows the boots that rarely leave his feet. Cas begins bracing for the hit he’s convinced is destined for his left jaw.
Dean should not be punished by my mistakes.
Castiel starts pulling his grace from that point to ensure Dean won’t hurt his hand. He makes his jaw more pliable than humanly possible and softens his entire body for any follow up impacts.
Cas is still watching Dean’s boots at he continues moving in slow steps toward him. Dean stops barely a foot away.
Castiel feels Dean’s hand connect with his jaw, but not how he expected.
The rough hands Dean swears are made for battle, made for a soldier, are simply brought to his jaw.
The hands of the righteous man are now framing Castiel’s face. Gentle and loving, but just as powerful as a punch.
Dean places a short kiss right below Cas’s hairline. Drawing back, Dean tilts Cas’s head up until their eyes lock. Once again initiating the intense eye contact reserved only for the two of them.
Castiel has seen anger in Deans eyes. He’s seen disappointment and sorrow, but that’s not what he sees in this moment. No. The look in Dean’s eyes is full of love and hope.
Dean doesn’t take his hands away from Cas’s face. If anything, they hold a bit firmer as he speaks.
“I’m here now. We’ll fix this. Together.”
Cas hears those words and suddenly feels as though his strings were cut. His whole body starts to sag as he reaches out to Dean’s waist.
Dean closes the limited space between them until their bodies are pressed together. He slides his hands from Cas’s face and pulls him further into his arms. He cradles the back of Cas’s head and places an open palm between his shoulder blades.
Cas buries his face in the crook of Dean’s neck as he tightens the hold he has around Dean. His hands are holding onto handfuls of utility jacket, as though they are a life preserver and he was lost at sea. An immense feeling of calm washes over him as he realizes he is not alone. He has Dean. He will always have Dean.