Work Text:
With no more fear of losing Cas to the empty, Dean had finally decided that it was okay to get some sleep. Over the past few weeks he had found himself, late at night, pacing the hallways of the bunker. Waiting for something he deemed inevitable. Nothing came, no ghosts, no angels, no vamps, no empty.
It was a strange sort of peace now that the long nights of fear were over. He was done, he could be happy, right?
Dean wished things could be so simple. Did he deserve the right to happiness at all? He had spent so much of his life suffering, did he even know what happiness was? What made Dean happy? Was it Sam, or hunting, or Jack, or a place to call home?
Was it Cas?
Dean tried not to think about it. About what Cas said to him when they were both so sure they were going to die. Before the empty did the unthinkable, sparing them for Billie. What good would thinking about them do? It made things awkward, sometimes when Dean would walk the halls of the bunker and run into him. Sometimes he would be watching TV, or reading a book, and his eyes would dart to Dean when he entered the room. He hated it because he couldn't tell if the look in Castiel’s eyes was pity, or if he was just making it up because of how tired he was.
When it would be late, and he wasn't sleeping his mind would drift through the realms of possibilities. What would his life look like if he told Cas he loved him back? Would they move out of the bunker? Maybe they would buy a house in the woods. Get jobs, pay taxes if they manage to convince the government Cas is and always has been a resident. Maybe they would get a dog. A cute little thing, Cas would waste no time spoiling the hell out of it. Dean would probably be convinced Cas loved the thing more than he loved him. Cas would try extra hard to prove that wasn't the case.
They could have a big kitchen, and Sam and Eileen could come over on big holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving and cook with them. None of that is real though.
Does Dean even love him? That’s a stupid question. Dean has always loved Cas. The way they used to slip into such easy conversation. The way Cas watched dean when he slept on a hunt. How Cas cared so much about him and Sam, even after only knowing them for a couple of months.
Who’s to even say Cas still loves him. Even now, he’s just down the hall. It’s a theory that would be so easy to test. Just walk up to him, tell him how he feels, but would he feel the same way? After a month of one word answers, and cold shoulders. Sam has talked to him about it a couple times. Dean never told him the exact words Cas said to him. But it couldn’t have been too hard to guess. Sometimes Sam comes and sits on the foot of Dean’s bed. Trying, begging for Dean to say something.
Apparently Cas is pretty beat up about it all. According to Sam, he and Cas have been having the same thoughts running through their heads. At least, that's what Sam makes it sound like.
Maybe he should do it, put on his big boy pants and get his feelings out there. Scratch that, Dean should definitely do that.
It’s just a matter if he has the balls to do it or not, which he certainly does not.