Archive of Our Own

Dean put the last of their weapons back in the trunk and let the lid to the false bottom fall closed. He turned around to where Sam was in the process of burying the witch they had just ganked. Dean grabbed the salt and the lighter fluid from the car and joined his brother.

He held out his hand and pulled Sam up out of the hole he had dug. Then he helped his younger brother to carry the corpse from the house and dispose of it in the ground. They salted the body and lit it on fire.

As Dean watched the remains slowly crumble away, the unease that had filled him ever since the witch’s spell had hit them earlier grew stronger. “I don’t like this,” he mumbled towards his brother. “I don’t feel any different and nothing dramatic has happened. It makes me nervous.”

Sam nodded solemnly. “Same here. It’s possible that she messed up whatever she was trying to do; she didn’t seem very experienced yet, but with our luck that seems a little too easy. We should probably try to read up on the spell she used as soon as we’re back in the bunker.”

Dean nodded. Still, something didn’t sit right with him.

Once they had closed up the grave, they returned to the car. Before he got in, Dean looked back at the unassuming white house one more time.

He couldn’t help but feel that he was forgetting something.

- - -

Cas sat at the library table in the bunker, reading an ancient book about human souls, specifically the lack of them. His attention kept flickering to the phone that lay beside him despite his best efforts to concentrate. Sam and Dean hadn’t called since yesterday and it was making him nervous.

The Winchester brothers had left for a potential witch case four days ago. It had seemed like an easy case, so Cas had decided to stay behind and do some more research on the situation with Jack’s soul while the young Nephilim was away from the bunker to visit Jody and Claire. Dean had promised to give him frequent updates on the case and call once they had wrapped everything up and were on their way back.

Cas tried not to let the lack of check-in make him nervous. Maybe they had just forgotten.

Except that Dean had made a point of keeping the angel in the loop ever since he had finally gotten rid of Michael in his head and there had been some heart filled confessions between them. They had yet to properly talk about what exactly the thing that had developed between them meant, but they could both feel that something had shifted into place.

The phone still didn’t show any messages. Cas turned back to his book with a quiet sigh.

Only a few seconds had gone by when the heavy metal door to the bunker swung open and the Winchesters’ voices drifted into the main area. They sounded as cheerful as could be expected and not frantic like anything had gone wrong.

Cas smiled and a small rush of relief filled him. They had just forgotten to call after all. He pushed his chair back and made his way to the map room to meet the brothers.

“Hello, Dean. Sam,” he greeted when he rounded the corner and came to a stop a few feet in front of them.

As soon as they saw him, something shifted in the air. Cas felt confusion well up in him when the brothers went rigid at his appearance.

Before he had properly processed the sudden hostility in the air, Dean dropped his bag and pulled out his gun. Sam followed short only a second later. With both of their guns unexpectedly aimed at him, Cas took an uncertain step back.

“Who are you?! And what are you doing in our bunker?” Dean growled.

“What?” Cas asked, shock and confusion leaving him without words for a moment.

He waited a second longer, but no recognition lit up in either of the brothers’ faces. He crooked his head in confusion and a bit of nervousness. Were they playing a prank on him?

Before he could ask what was going on, Dean took a step forward, the gun steadily aimed at his chest. “Tell me who you are and how you got in here or I swear to God I’m gonna shoot you!”

Dean’s voice was icy and held none of its usual warmth for Cas. He didn’t think the other man was playing around.

“Dean, it’s me. Castiel.” Cas waited for any sign of recognition to show on Dean’s face. But when instead the man’s frown only deepened, Cas felt dread grip his insides. “Dean, do you not remember me?”

“I don’t know you,” Dean growled. He gripped the gun tighter when Cas took a hesitant step in his direction. “Stay where you are!”

“Please, I am your friend,” Cas turned towards the younger brother in hopes that he would recognize him. “Sam?”

“Don’t talk to him!” Dean snapped and took a protective step in front of his younger brother. “Not a step closer until you tell me how you got in here!”

Cas ignored the warning and took a step closer to Dean, mouth opening to plead for the man to remember who he was. Before a single  word could leave his mouth, a gunshot sounded.

Cas saw Dean’s finger tighten on the trigger. In the split second it took for the weapon to fire, he thought that he should have seen this coming. Dean was in fight or flight mode. He should have known to be more careful with him. But the brothers’ hostile demeanor had shocked him too much to think his actions through properly. His eyes met Dean’s and the eye contact seemed to have sparked something in the man, because at the last moment he changed the aim of his gun so the shot didn’t hit Cas in the chest but in the shoulder instead.

He flinched when the bullet hit him, though more from surprise than any pain. He didn’t spare the negligible wound even a glance. Within a few seconds his grace glowed through the ripped flesh and healed it.

Sam’s and Dean’s eyes widened at his lack of reaction to being shot and they exchanged a quick look, silently communicating their conclusion.

“What are you?” Sam asked, his voice dangerously low and Cas had to suppress a shiver at the coldness in his words and gaze.

“I’m an angel. But Sam-”

Before he could finish, he was interrupted by Dean’s humorless laugh. “An angel!? Of course it had to be a fucking angel!” The hatred in the man’s gaze when their eyes met this time wrapped itself around Cas’ heart like a chain. “What do you flying dicks want from us this time?”

Coldness filled Cas at his words. Why did they seem to know about angels in general but not him?

He shook his head in desperation. “Dean, you don’t seem to remember me at the moment, but I assure you, you know me-“

In his hurry to explain himself to Dean, Cas hadn’t been paying attention to Sam and his eyes widened when the man had suddenly pulled two angel blades from his duffle and threw one to Dean. Both Winchesters went to attack without hearing the end of his explanation and all Cas could do was to dodge and summon his own blade to parry their hits.

“I’ve only just gotten Michael out of my head,” Dean growled as he tried to fight his way through Cas’ defense. “I’ve got enough of angels for a while, pal.”

Cas desperately tried to get them to listen, but he couldn’t get the fight to calm down for long enough to explain. It took all his concentration to avoid both brothers’ attacks. They thought in perfect unison, honed through decades of knowing each other’s moves in and out, and Cas was at a disadvantage. They fought to draw blood while he only moved to defend himself, unwilling to hurt them.

After he managed to disarm Sam with a well-placed strike, Cas crowded Dean back against the table with the blade against his neck as leverage. “Dean, would you just listen!” His voice shook with desperation and an edge of righteous anger.

“I don’t wanna hear what you have to say, dickbag! If you wanna stab me, just go ahead,” Dean hissed. Green fire was burning in his eyes and when his gaze met Cas’ he must have seen something in it, because a cocky smirk slipped in place on his face. “But you don’t want to, do you?”

Cas hesitated, locked in their standoff. Of course he’d never actually hurt Dean. The human pressed against his hold almost daringly and Cas’ heart lurched. His hands were shaking as he quickly withdrew his blade. Just the thought of accidentally cutting Dean and inflicting any kind of pain onto his human made him sick.

He took a step back and at the same time he felt the point of an angel blade dig into his back.

“Don’t move!” Sam hissed in his ear. “Tell us what you’re doing here.”

“I live here. I am your friend.” Cas could no longer hide the desperation in his voice. He needed them to believe him.

Dean barked a laugh as he pushed himself off the table. “Good one. Like we’d ever be buddy-buddy with an angel. We’ve never met a single one that isn’t a dick. It’s kinda the trademark of your species.”

Cas knew that this wasn’t his Dean talking - the man in front of him didn’t remember him or their time together - but the words still stung deep. “I’m telling the truth,” he whispered.

Dean just raised a mocking eyebrow and turned to Sam. “What do we do with him?”

Sam hummed in consideration. “We need to know why he’s here and how he got in. But we’ve still got to research that thing we talked about.” Cas couldn’t see Sam, but he imagined he was giving Dean a meaningful look.

“If he isn’t going to talk right now, we’ll just have to try again later,” Dean declared after a short pause.

“You wanna put him in the dungeon?” Sam asked.

“I’ve got an even better idea.” Dean smirked and a shiver of unease crawled down Cas’ spine.

Cas didn’t realize what Dean had been talking about until they stood directly in front of the Ma'lak Box. He stared at it in horror

No. Oh Father, please no!

“We never got a chance to see if this big boy actually works,” Dean knocked on top of the metal box. He seemed almost excited. “Angels are difficult. I don’t think he’ll talk easily. But after some time in here…” Cas breathing speed up when Dean opened the lid. “I think he’ll tell us everything we wanna know.”

They were going to lock him in the Ma’lak box! A fate so horrible that they had done everything to avoid using it before.

Sam and Dean had already forgotten who he was and what he meant to them. They saw him as an enemy. What kept them from just leaving him in there?! They were going to lock him in the small prison built to hold an archangel.

Panic filled Cas and he tried to move backwards.

Sam grabbed his arm and used the angel blade at his back to keep him in place.

“No,” Cas whispered as the younger Winchester dragged him up to the metal cage.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Sam sighed. “We’ll let you out as soon as you’re ready to stop lying to us.”

“I didn’t lie! Don’t do this! Trust me, you wouldn’t want to do this!”

Cas fought as they dragged him forward. Fear choked him. He ripped himself out of Sam’s grasp and recoiled from the box.

Suddenly, another angel blade was at his throat. “Just go quietly,” Dean murmured next to his ear. “We’re not gonna keep you in there forever. We just have something to take care of until we have time to deal with you.”

Cas swallowed against the cold metal resting against his neck and let Dean maneuverer him across the room. He stepped into the box when Dean demanded him to. Then he fixed his desperate gaze on the man again. “Dean, please. When you remember who I am to you, you’ll never forgive yourself for doing this.”

For a moment something in Dean’s eyes seemed to waver and desperate hope filled Cas’ heart. But then Sam stepped up to his brother, bumping their shoulders and Dean’s eyes hardened again. “Stop trying to bullshit your way out of this. Lie down.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Cas’ eyes as he followed the command. The angel blade never left his throat until he was lying flat on his back. “No,” he whispered one more time. He was able to get one more look at Dean, then the man slammed the box closed.

As soon as he heard his prison being locked from the outside his fear morphed into full blown panic.

He started to bang his hands desperately against the wall that surrounded him on all sides. He tried to summon his grace, but he was powerless against the warded metal. It was like he was locked within himself, the feeling almost as suffocating as the enclosed space.

No, no, no, no!

Cas let out a desperate scream. “No! Please! Let me out!”

He continued to bang against the lid. Panic was choking him. He didn’t need to breathe, but he felt like the walls were suffocating him anyway.

He continued to struggle and beg for what felt like hours.

When he had exhausted himself and let his fists drop, he was surrounded by silence. No sound came from outside his metal prison. Cas realized that the brothers must have left a long time ago.

Hopelessness filled him. He was stuck in here. At the mercy of two people who didn’t remember him as more than an enemy. Yet all he could do was wait for them to hopefully let him out again.

Cas curled his familiar old trenchcoat tighter around himself. Then he just lay in the darkness, shivering.

- - -

Leaving the angel in the Ma’lak Box left an unexplainable sour taste in Dean’s mouth. He didn’t know why, but he felt like he’d just made a huge mistake.

He had kept up his cold façade for as long as they had had to deal with the intruder to their home, but now Dean felt the unease from before creeping back in. Like he was forgetting something important.

“You think he was telling the truth?” He quietly asked Sam as they walked away from the room from where he could still hear the angel’s calls.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you really think we could ever be friends with an angel?”

“No,” Dean admitted. All angels are winged dicks, he reminded himself. (Castiel had seemed very convincing.)

Dean tried to push his doubts to the back of his mind.

“You want some coffee before we start researching the curse?”

Sam nodded and they went to the kitchen.

“What do you think he was really doing here?” Dean asked his brother as they waited for the coffee to run through the machine.

“I’m not sure; we haven’t heard from any angels besides Michael in a while.” Sam frowned in thought before he added, “Maybe he was after Jack. The angels were never happy with the existence of a Nephilim. Can’t imagine that got any better after he lost most of his soul.”

Dean tightened his grip on the counter as protectiveness surged through him. The god squad better leave the kid alone! The poor boy had already had enough to deal with in his short existence.

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if it’s about Jack,” he mumbled in agreement.

Still, as he picked up his cup and led Sam to the library he couldn’t help but have that weird feeling again. It was as if Jack’s mention had stirred something in the back of his head. He didn’t know what it was, but he felt like there was something connected to the Nephilim that he ought to remember…

- - -

Sam had remembered part of the spell the witch had screamed at them before they shot her, but even so it took them almost three days to come to the conclusion that they would need help with this one.

With only part of the spell they hadn’t been able to figure out which one it was, no matter how many of the bunker’s books they went through. All they had managed to figure out so far was that it had something to do with forgetting.

That matched the weird feeling that Dean continued to have.

After the third day of research with no results, they had decided to call Rowena. The witch hadn’t exactly been ecstatic about their request, but since she was already in Kansas, she had agreed to come over this evening.

That left them with a few more hours. Sam wanted to continue his research, still hoping he would find something. He had suggested that Dean go talk to the angel that they had been avoiding the past few days in the meantime, but Dean had come up with an excuse.

The thought of the captured angel made him uneasy, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. He knew it was cowardly and unreasonable and that he was just running away from the weird feeling, but it was easier to avoid thinking about Castiel’s existence altogether. (He was not going to acknowledge that he couldn’t stop thinking about him.)

It was almost 8 pm by the time Rowena finally showed up.

She walked into the bunker in high-heels and a red dress, descending the stairs like she owned the place.

“Hello boys.”

Dean just nodded while Sam returned the greeting.

“Oh, yes. I can already see it.” Rowena looked them both up and down.

“See what?” Sam asked.

“The curse, my dear. Whoever did this was an amateur. A well-cast spell is more hidden, but this one hovers around you like a cloud.” She wrinkled her nose.

It had definitely hit them, then. Dean sighed. Great it would have been too good if it had just evaporated.

“Does that mean you can lift it?” Sam asked hopefully.

Rowena let out a light laugh. “Oh no, that’s not how magic works. I can see it, sure, but I can’t see what exactly it is or how to undo it with just one glance. All I can say is that it is a lot more pronounced in your brother.” She turned towards Dean, but continued to address Sam. “Am I right in deducting that it hit him first and bounced off to you?”

Sam nodded and Dean rolled his eyes. “Great. Now that we’ve established that, can we get rid of it please?”

They led Rowena to the library. She looked around like she had expected someone or something to greet her there. “Oh, where’s blue-eye? I thought he’d be feather deep in helping you research your little problem.”

“What?”

“Oh, Dean,” Rowena looked at him almost scandalized. “don’t tell me your little boyfriend isn’t around! I was looking forward to working with the pretty little angel again.” She let out an overly dramatic sigh.

“What are you talking about?!” Dean’s voice went up by a few octaves. “Boyfriend?! I don’t have a... a b-boyfriend!”

The red-hair rolled her eyes and gave him a look that he didn’t know how to read. “Sure you don’t, dearie. Not yet anyway.”

Dean was saved from his confused and highly embarrassed sputtering, when Sam cleared his throat and pushed some papers over to Rowena. “That’s all that we could find so far.”

The witch gracefully sat down at the table and Sam joined her. Dean kept standing.

Rowena hummed as she looked through their notes. After a few minutes she came across Sam’s Latin translation of the spell-part he’d overheard. She frowned down at the page. “Your translation is wrong, bampot. ‘Carissimi’ translates to ‘dear’.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam pulled the page back in-between them to show her what he had written on a separate paper. “The spell part that I heard was “Oblivisci esse carissimi”, but that didn’t make sense. We were trying to kill her, so she must have cursed us with something that could help her. I probably misheard her. She must have been saying ‘forget the one here’.”

That was what they had been able to come up with so far. It made sense for the witch to want them to forget about her in the middle of a fight. Now the question was why they hadn’t forgotten about her.

Dean had secretly hoped that the spell might have misfired completely and therefore had no effect, but after Rowena’s first assessment that idea was out the window.

The witch in question laughed loudly at Sam’s explanation and Dean had to suppress the impulse to snap at her for it.

“Oh my dear, naïve, stupid boys. It appears you made the same mistake as that amateur witch. Magic is a delicate art. You can’t just change one letter in the translation to match the word you were trying to bring into the spell. ‘Carissimi’ might translate to ‘dear’, but here in Latin is ‘hic’. I think that the curse she was trying to put you under was “Oblivisci unum hic” which means as much as ‘Forget the one here’.”

Rowena wrote down the words in delicate little letters. She pointed the pen at her words and then at what Sam had written.

“What she actually did by confusing those two words is that she made you forget about the person most dear to you. And since the spell hit you first,” she pointed at Dean. “I’m guessing you both forgot about Feathers.”

Dean swallowed. There was the explanation for the feeling he’d been having. Impatiently his mind went to Castiel. The angel who they had locked in the Ma’lak Box despite him begging them not to. Despite his insistence that they knew him. He really hoped that wasn’t who Rowena was talking about.

“Come on, boys.” Rowena’s voice still had the teasing edge, but it had grown more serious. “Where’s the angel on your shoulder.”

Dean swallowed again. His heart was suddenly pounding faster. “Are you…are you by any chance talking about a literal angel? Do we have a friend who’s an angel?”

Sam was also getting fidgety next to him and Rowena frowned at the suddenly nervous brothers. “Oh ho, have you already met him? Can’t imagine how that went with you two hotheads.” She gave a smirk towards Dean. “Dearie, I don’t usually want to know what you get up to in the bedroom with your boyfriend, but do you have dear old Castiel tied up here somewhere?”

Shit. Oh, fuck!

“Uhm,” Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably. “We, uhm, we might have locked him in the Ma’lak Box…”

The smirk slipped from Rowena’s face and her eyes widened. “Bollocks.”

Dean’s mind was spinning. They should have listened when the angel had insisted that they knew him and that he was their friend. They should have at least considered it instead of brushing it off as a manipulation attempt. A very poor one at that. And they had literally been researching a memory related spell…

Dean cursed himself internally.

There was also the fact that Rowena kept calling Castiel his boyfriend… She tended to tease them with stupid shit, but what if…? Was that actually…? It sent his thoughts reeling just thinking about, but it suddenly it didn’t seem so implausible anymore.

Fucking shit. They had locked the angel in an inescapable prison.

Without waiting a second longer, Dean whirled around and hurried towards the door. He had to get Cas out.

“Stop!”

Rowena’s voice was so authoritative that Dean couldn’t help but immediately follow the command. He turned back to look at the witch and his brother, who had both stood up from the table.

“I think it might be in everybody’s best interest to restore your memories first,” Rowena said sweetly, but her tone didn’t leave room for argument, so Dean just nodded.

Rowena left them standing there with the strict instruction not to move and left to collect some simple ingredients. The brothers exchanged an uneasy look as soon as they were alone.

“I think we messed up,” Sam mumbled.

“Yeah,” Dean’s voice was hoarse. They had messed up big time.

They waited the next few minutes in uncomfortable silence.

When the red haired witch returned, she pressed two small hex-bags into the brothers’ hands and mumbled a few words in Latin.

Dean felt a rush, almost like he was going too fast on a joy ride, and then he remembered. It wasn’t an assault of memories rushing back all at once, they were just suddenly there. Like normal memories. Like they had never been gone.

What threw Dean in loop for a moment was that the change was less jarring than he had anticipated. When he had recovered from his surprise, sudden dread filled his stomach. He sucked in a sharp breath.

“Cas,” he murmured. He hurried out of the room without waiting if the other two would follow. He only just heard Rowena telling Sam that she’d wait in the library.

Dean couldn’t believe he’d forgotten Cas; his angel. All those hurtful things they had said. His heart was pounding in his chest.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! They had locked Cas in that motherfucking box. They had caged him like some filthy animal and left him to rot for days. They had broken his trust in so many ways.

All Dean could see was the angel’s destroyed face as he forced him into the box. His pleas as they let the lid fall closed. And his screams as they had left the room. He wanted to punch himself until he had knocked the memory out of his brain. Cas had sounded fucking terrified. He had done that to his angel!

He couldn’t hurry down the long bunker hallways fast enough. Logically, he knew that Cas would be okay; nothing could have happened to him in that box. But he couldn’t help but hate himself anyway. The guilt and fear that Cas wouldn’t forgive him were turning his stomach until he wanted to throw up.

The poor guy had probably had no idea what was happening. One second everything was normal, the next his best friends had just forgotten about him and were treating him like an enemy.

He could just hope that Cas would forgive them. (Dean wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself.)

He had to get Cas out of the prison that he had stupidly put him into. Now.

- - -

Cas was staring unblinkingly at the ceiling of his small prison. His gaze was empty and unseeing. After the first day locked up the angel had retreated into his mind. It was easier to blend out the earthly world around him when he was less connected to his vessel. He had been hoping he’d slip into the meditative state that kept him peacefully floating in time. He had used it many times over the millennia to bypass uneventful times in heaven and earth. But right now he was in too much emotional distress to separate himself fully from the human plane.

Having his powers on forceful lockdown pushed him further into his vessel and amplified human responses to the situation in him. Confinement in small spaces shouldn’t bother him this much, a vessel was no different after all, but in here Cas couldn’t help but feel claustrophobic after some time.

The first few hours after he had been locked up had passed in a panicked blur. After he had stopped screaming and struggling to break out, he had laid there shivering in the silence for a long time. With nothing to distract him from his drowning despair, the memory had replayed over and over his head. The Winchesters attacking him. Locking him up.

Now that he’d had some time to reflect on it, he could see that the brothers had acted defensive due to an unknown threat unexpectedly standing in their home. They hadn’t remembered him, that much was clear. Cas wondered what had happened on the case to have wiped their memories of what had apparently been just him specifically.

Looking back on it, Cas was angry at himself for not reacting more rationally. If he’d just been able to explain himself properly, if he’d noticed what was going on before they had lashed out and become trapped in the heated mindset of combat, maybe he could have avoided this whole mess.

But he had been too distraught and confused by the situation to find the right words to get them to listen and now he was trapped. He didn’t have a choice but to wait and hope that they’d return to talk to him soon. He just hoped they didn’t change their minds about letting him out.

Cas was aware that they hadn’t known what they were doing. But despite the knowledge, he couldn’t help the bitter sting of betrayal. Especially Dean’s actions had felt like a break in their bond. The hurt ripped deep within his grace.

The worst was that he was stuck in here without their help. He was completely at the mercy of two people who couldn’t remember him and had decided that he was a threat.

After the first burst of panic had subsided, unease had taken over the angel. He couldn’t help but worry that he was stuck in here forever. Sure, they had said it would only be for a few days, but what if they decided that it was easiest to just keep him locked up? What if they forgot about his existence again?

Fear had strangled him at the thought and he spent the next few hours shivering and with his heart racing as he tried not to think about the possibility that he’d never get out of here again.

By the time day three rolled around, a strange kind of apathy had taken over the angel. He kept forgetting to blink, only reminded when his body’s eyes became uncomfortably dry. He slowed his vessel’s breathing and heartbeat and tried to force himself to relax and slip into a meditative state. It didn’t work very well.

He emptied his mind and tried not to think. Especially not about his friends. Thinking about them hurt.

But despite his best efforts, his mind kept drifting to Dean. It had only been a few days, but Cas already missed him. He wished for nothing more than to sit next to him in the Dean Cave and watch a movie, or to be able to curl up next to him in bed as he watched his human sleep.

The fact that Dean had been the one to lock him up still stung sharply. He didn’t blame the man - he hadn’t known - but that didn’t lessen the pain in his grace.

He wished Dean would come back and open the lid to the box; let him out, take him in his arms and apologize.

Cas’ internal clock told him that it had been almost four days by the time he heard sound from outside the box for the first time. He shifted on the uncomfortable hard ground and hoped desperately that someone was coming for him.

The steps entered the room. They were hurried.

Someone started to fiddle with the locks on the box and Cas could have cried in relief.

Another pair of footsteps entered the room and Cas could hear someone speak. The metal was too thick to make out what he was saying, but he recognized Sam’s voice. Did that mean that Dean was the one opening the locks?

Cas’ heart beat in his chest in fearful anticipation.

Finally the lid opened and Cas blinked at the sudden light after so long in darkness. Dean was standing above him. His chest was heaving heavily and his eyes had a wet shine to them.

“Cas!” Dean’s voice broke on his name as he held out a hand and helped the angel out of the metal box.

Cas’ legs were unsteady when he got up and he could feel himself trembling from the intense relief he felt. But even though he felt like breaking down, he couldn’t help but smile. This was his Dean. He remembered him.

As soon he had both feet on the ground, Dean pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m sorry, Cas. I’m so fucking sorry.” Dean’s voice was shaking.

Cas had to work his throat a few times to get his voice under control enough to answer. Dean continued to mumble apologies into his shoulder. “It’s okay, Dean,” Cas finally managed to say in a voice that was rough from disuse and emotion. “I forgive you.”

Dean pulled back and shook his head. “Don’t say that. How can you forgive me for locking you up?!” He furiously wiped at his eyes.

Cas took a shaky breath. The betrayal of trust still hurt, but he wasn’t angry. Not really.

He was distracted from searching for an answer when Sam pulled him into a brief hug as well. “We’re really sorry, Cas,” the younger Winchester said as he pushed a hand through his hair. He seemed distraught as well, though not as much as Dean.

As soon as Sam let him go, Cas found himself back in Dean’s arms. He melted into the comfort and took a few seconds to just breathe.

When he hesitantly pulled back his pained expression was reflected in Dean’s eyes. His voice was a little steadier when he spoke this time, “You didn’t remember who I was. What happened?”

That evening, Cas sat in his room and stared at the door. A mixture of nerves and hopeful anticipation curled in his chest, but so far his waiting had been in-vain. Dean hadn’t come to his room yet, the way he had tended to do so often in the past weeks.

After Sam and Dean had explained what had happened to him, the three men had returned to the library where Rowena was still waiting. Cas had made sure to thank her at length, but she had just waved him off and declared that she would be on her way so she wouldn’t have to ‘bear witness to the heartfelt and rowdy reunion’. By the look she had shot Dean, Cas thought he might have missed something about her implication.

Once Rowena had left, the atmosphere in the bunker became tense. Sam was overly persistent in trying to make sure that Cas was okay and comfortable. Meanwhile Dean was nervous around him and Cas could practically feel the guilt radiating off him.

As soon as possible Cas had excused himself to his room. He’d mentioned that Dean and he could talk more later in what he hoped had been a subtitle hint at an invitation to come to his room.

That had been three hours ago. Dean hadn’t shown up yet.

Cas worried his lip, a habit he’d picked up from Dean, as he debated whether it would be a good idea to seek Dean out. It was past midnight. It didn’t seem like he was still coming.

Decision made, Cas got up and went the few doors down to Dean’s room. He hesitated before knocking. It was pretty late, maybe Dean was already asleep. Cas carefully opened the door a fraction to peek inside.

Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed, light still on and his head buried in his hands. When the door let out a quiet creak, he lifted his head.

“Oh, uhm. Hi, Cas.”

When the angel hesitated, Dean quietly waved him inside.

“Are you alright?” Cas asked.

Dean let out a humorless laugh. “I can’t believe you’re the one asking me that.”

Cas slowly stepped forward and sat on the bed. He put a hand gently on Dean’s knee, coaxing the man into looking up at him. “You didn’t come to my room,” he said.

Dean lowered his eyes until he was staring at Cas’ chest instead of his eyes. “I thought you might want some space from me.”

“I don’t.”

Dean nodded stiffly and scooted closer until they were pressed together. They sat in silence for a moment, before Dean asked. “Why aren’t you angry?”

Cas took his hand in his. “You didn’t remember. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Of fucking course it was my fault!” Dean snapped and ripped his hand out of the angel’s grasp. “I forgot you! I forgot who you were and locked you in that fucking box. I did something horrible to you and you’re telling me you aren’t the least bit upset?!”

Cas insides did an uncomfortable twist. Thinking about the box made him uneasy. He licked his lips before answering. He chose his words carefully. “I am upset about what happened. But I’m not upset with you. You aren’t to blame for this, Dean.”

When the man still didn’t seem convinced, he continued talking. “You forgot me because I am important to you. You didn’t forget about Sam or Jack. You forgot me. It took us so long to finally get to this point in our relationship. I don’t want this to come between us. Please.” He added quietly.

Dean stared at him, his expression cracked wide open for a moment, then he sniffed and pulled Cas into a tight hug. “Thank you! You are the best, Cas. I don’t deserve you.”

Cas hugged the human back just as tightly. “You deserve everything,” he mumbled quietly.

I love you, he thought. But he didn’t say that part out loud. They hadn’t said it yet and he didn’t want to spook Dean by blurting it out now.

But as he held onto his favorite human and the horrible feelings of the last four days faded, he had hope that he might be able to soon.