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Castiel watched Dean storm out of the motel room, a string of curse words flying from his lips. The man walked right past him and took off in the in Impala. There was a screeching sound from the wheels as he pulled away. Through the window of the motel room, Cas could see his human pacing and rubbing his hands over his face—obvious movements of distress. With caution, Castiel walked into the room and Sam looked as though he might’ve been crying.
“Are you okay?” Castiel’s voice was still treading lightly.
“No, I’m not okay,” Sam turned his back, “I’m really not okay.”
“I could see that Dean was also in distress,” Cas nodded, “Did you have an argument?”
“That’d be putting it lightly,” Sam’s tone was bitter.
“What happened?” Cas sat down on the edge of one of the beds looking up at the painful look in Sam’s eyes.
“Why do you even care?” Cas tilted his head at the unexpected question.
“It is customary for two people in a romantic relationship to share feelings with each other,” Castiel answered.
“Has anything between us ever been customary?” Sam raised his voice. Cas didn’t understand why Sam’s anger was suddenly pointed at him. “Whatever just let it go,” Sam’s face was still red from tears and yelling.
“Sam,” Castiel stood up, letting their bodies become a little closer in height, “you are obviously upset. Maybe if you just talked about it,” Cas touched his boyfriend’s arm, “it would make things better.”
Cas hadn’t been anticipating Sam’s reaction. He watched as Sam went off on him about always wanting to talk, telling him that sometimes he didn’t want everyone up in all of his business. There were ramblings about how Sam didn’t need to be watched over—although, Cas disagreed with that—and he should be allowed to keep some things to himself.
However, none of those were the comment that hurt Cas the most.
“Sometimes I wish that you had stayed emotionally incapable,” Sam shook his head, “because at least back then I didn’t have to check in with you every time I had a fucking feeling about something.”
Blue eyes stared at hazel ones. This was a rare occurrence, Castiel and Sam fighting. Normally, it wasn’t like this. They’d fight over little petty nothings that they’d forget about after a couple hours. Currently, Cas didn’t think that he’d ever forget that comment. Sam had been the one who had gotten him to truly open himself up to the possibilities of emotions. Sam had been the one to show him how things felt. From crying to laughing to sex to cuddling and everything in-between, Sam was the one to walk him through it all. Always being patient when Cas didn’t pick up on things; it had been an interesting learning experience. He trusted Sam, but he felt like all of that was being torn away. Sam said he wished Cas didn’t have emotions. Emotions that Sam had given him. Emotions that were brought into his heart by Sam.
He disappeared. What else could he do?
This time Castiel decided to go sit beside a lake. It was soothing to look out over the cool water, breeze blowing a little, and off in the distance there was a single boat—the same old man who fished here everyday. Castiel’s eyes grazed over the scenery; it was all familiar, after all, this was a common place for Cas to go when he needed a break.
The tears were unwanted, unexpected, and too warm on his cheeks. He couldn’t stop them though, they were dropping too fast and his shoulders were already shaking. Sam never got mad at him like that. Not like that. Sam would get irritated, frustrated, or maybe impatient. But never mad. Not really. Dean was the one with the horrendous temper. If Dean had been the one yelling at him it would’ve stung, but deep down, Cas would’ve known the man hadn’t meant it. With Sam, Castiel couldn’t help but wonder if he’d meant those hateful words that spilled from his mouth.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Sam stared around the empty room. It hit him like a ragged wave. Everything he said, he hadn’t meant a single word of it. He had just let it all out at Castiel; let it out against his angel. A sob choked its way out of his throat and Sam rubbed at the back of his neck.
“Cas?” He murmured the question, but there was no answer.
It had nothing to do with Cas; it was just because Dean had been fighting with him. He had just been worked up. Dean had been in one of his ‘good son vs. bad son’ moods and—like they always did when Dean was in that mind frame—they ended up getting into a screaming match. Sam had been so angry with Dean for saying what he said. Deep down, Sam knew that Dean probably hadn’t meant everything that he said either, but it had lit that fuse and Castiel happened to show up when it blew. Goddamned, he was so sorry that it hurt.
When a couple hours passed and no one had returned, Sam finally decided to dial Dean’s number. The phone rang and rang before going to Dean’s voicemail. Sighing, Sam tossed the phone back down on the table.
There was the sound of a door shutting and Sam jerked up. He had apparently fallen asleep. Dean had tiredly stumbled into the room. Sam sniffed the air, just checking if his brother was drunk. No signs of alcohol, so Sam safely assumed that his brother had driven and driven until the anger had finally been washed away by pavement and music. Eyelashes were sticking together when Sam opened his eyes fully—tears had dried on his face. He rubbed at his eyes until they felt cleaner. Dean sighed and sat down on the end of Sam’s bed.
“Look,” he fiddled with his thumbs, “I didn’t mean everything I said earlier.” Dean licked his lips, “Just got pissed off s’all.”
“I know,” Sam nodded, knowing that was as close to an apology that he was ever going to get.
“So where’s Cas?” Dean glanced around the room, “Doesn’t he normally stare at your unconscious body like a fucking pervert?”
“He, uh,” Sam bit his lip, “he left earlier.”
“Left?” Dean pulled his boots off, “Why?”
“I might’ve went off on him,” Sam felt horribly ashamed; he wanted to go crawl into a very small, very dark hole.
“Dammit Sammy,” Dean grumbled, “It’s bad enough when I hurt his boo-boo feelings, but you hurting him?”
“I didn’t mean to!” Sam defended, but it came out weaker than intended.
“What’d you say that pissed him off?” Dean pulled his jeans and flannel off, flopping down on his bed.
“I basically told him that I wish he was still emotionless,” saying it aloud felt so much harsher than it did when he said it in his head.
“You’re just really good at relationships Sammy,” Dean tugged a pillow under his head.
“Like you have any room to talk,” Sam glared.
They turned off the lamp. Soon, Sam heard Dean’s soft snoring from the other bed. However, Sam couldn’t sleep. He didn’t want to sleep. He wanted Cas. He wanted Cas to have emotions. He wanted Cas to always share how he felt with him. God, he regretted what he said. He regretted it so fucking much.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
Cas stood outside the motel room, he could just barely peak through the window considering that the curtains were mostly closed. Dean was fast asleep, stomach against the mattress and his shoulders moving with his breaths. He looked over to Sam and saw that his hunter was wide-awake. Sam lay on his back, eyes staring up at the ceiling and his hands going from resting on his diaphragm to running through his hair.
It was troubling just seeing Sam like that—no matter how displeased Cas was with him. At the end of the day, all Castiel really wanted to do was curl up in the embrace of his hunter and forget about the weight on his shoulders. Sometimes Cas wondered if Sam felt the same way, if maybe that’s why they felt so perfect together. However, today something had changed. Even though Cas was staring through the window just wanting to be inside that room, he couldn’t make himself do it. He was still too angry, too hurt, by what Sam had told him.
Was this what having humanity was really like? Everything that Sam had told him about emotion, about letting yourself feel, and nothing had ever come up about this. Sure, Sam had told him about pain and how things could hurt you in a way you couldn’t explain. Sam had told him what every emotion felt like and Cas had absorbed it like a sponge because he didn’t want to be confused about the way his mind worked all the time. This was different, this was a pain that Cas hadn’t experienced. Cas had experienced doubts in their relationship, but he hadn’t ever felt this. He had never—not once—felt like Sam didn’t want him. There were days when Sam was angry, days when Sam didn’t show much interest, days where Sam was insecure, days where Sam almost died, and about a million other varieties of the sort. But Sam always wanted him. That was the constant variable in their relationship.
“Cas?” A soft voice came when the door opened.
“Samuel,” Cas nodded, knowing that Sam hated when he called him that.
“What’re you doing out here?” there was a sleepy drawl in his voice.
What was he doing out here? Staring at Sam while he attempted to sleep. Wondering where things went wrong. Debating on whether or not Sam loved him anymore. Being furious that Sam had treated him that way. Realizing that Dean always treated him that way. Knowing that it hurt more when Sam did it though. So, what was he doing out here?
“Standing,” that was an answer that was both true and not humiliating.
“I kinda figured that out,” Sam ducked his head when he smiled.
Silence built up between them. Castiel was fighting with himself inside his head—Sam had told him that was normal once. Did he just forgive Sam? Honestly, that’s what a big part of him wanted to do. He wasn’t a fan of fighting and certainly wasn’t a fan of fighting with his Sam. Did he stay mad for a few more days? That seemed reasonable and then they could make up—but a few days seemed like a long time. Did he never forgive him? There was a part of him that liked that idea too, but he had a feeling that wouldn’t be his favorite choice in a few days.
“Look,” Sam sighed, “I didn’t mean what I said earlier.”
“You didn’t?” Cas tried to refrain from the pleading look he knew was happening on his face.
“Of course not Cas,” Sam licked his lips, “I—hell—I was just mad at Dean and you were just there. God, I didn’t mean what I said at all. I love you and I love that you care and I love that you make me talk about what bothers me. Damn Cas, I love everything about you.”
“You made me feel bad,” Castiel’s voice sounded fragile—almost child-like.
“I know,” Sam started chewing on his bottom lip.
“You should’ve never said that if you didn’t mean it,” Cas fiddled with a button on his coat.
“I know,” Sam sighed again, “I would take it back if I could.”
“Humans are bad at saying what they mean,” Cas concluded.
“Yeah,” Sam let himself chuckle, “You’re right about that.”
“I don’t forgive you yet,” Cas stated.
“Yet?” Sam glanced up from his feet, all hopeful eyes and sweet smile.
“I am displeased with the idea of never forgiving you,” Cas gestured, “so I am compromising.”
“I can deal with that,” Sam took a step closer to the angel, “So how do I go about getting forgiveness?” the man invaded Cas’ space, letting their faces get unbearably close.
“I think that you are a very quick learner,” Cas’ eyes trailed down to Sam’s mouth, “You always did strive for forgiveness.”
“You were the one who showed me that I could be forgiven,” Sam smiled against Cas’ cheek before kissing him.
Castiel didn’t think that Sam was lying—it didn’t feel like Sam was lying. Then again, all Cas could sincerely focus on was the gentle push and give of Sam’s lips. They hadn’t even gone an entire 24 hours without kissing and it felt like an eternity since they had done this last. The way Sam’s hands shook a little when he touched Cas’ sides, the way he was being so cautious, made Castiel horribly aware of how tuned in Sam was to his feelings. It was this reminder that of all the people, creatures, and beings in the universe, Sam was the one who understood how Cas felt. Now, Cas was aware that maybe Sam felt a similar way.
You were the one who showed me that I could be forgiven.
Those words echoed in his mind. It was so blunt and vulnerable. The statement was entirely truthful—at least from what he could tell—and Castiel decided that was possibly the best thing that had ever been spoken to him. All this time Cas had felt like it was Dean and Sam were teaching him. They showed him how to do everything; they were the ones who helped him adjust to the world—the ones who made him want to stay in this world. He never once considered this possibility. The possibility that he’d been teaching them too. Not just teaching them, but teaching Sam. Was it even conceivable that Castiel had shown Sam something this fundamental?
Okay, maybe he wasn’t all that mad anymore. Castiel’s hands were winding their way up to Sam’s shoulders to pull him in closer. Cas decided that he would probably be pouty on-and-off for a few days because he knew that Sam would be falling all over himself attempting to earn Cas’ forgiveness. He had to admit that clumsily in-love Sam was one of his favorite things.
“Did you mean that?” Cas breathed against Sam’s lips.
“That you showed me that I could be forgiven?” Sam asked, his eyes fluttering opened and closed.
“Yes,” Cas’ forehead was pressed against Sam’s.
“Of course I mean that,” Sam kissed him lightly, “I never, I just,” his words were being caught in his throat.
“Sam?” Cas pulled away to see that Sam’s eyes were shining with the promise of tears.
“Cas, I never thought that I could ever redeem myself,” there was that lip bite again, “I thought that my soul was lost—and for awhile it was,” Sam’s voice was shaky, “I just never thought that the things I had—have—done could ever be forgiven by anyone. I knew that I’d never forgive myself,” he paused, stroking a thumb on Cas’ cheek.
“Sam,” Cas said in a gentle tone.
“Then I met you,” Sam smiled as a tear dropped—which was quickly swiped away, “Cas, until you I thought I was damned. You showed me that it didn’t have to end that way,” He gave a half-hearted sniff, “You showed me that even if no one else thought my soul had value, you did. That you’d save me if you could.”
“Sam,” Cas ran a hand over the man’s soft hair, “you’ll always be worth forgiveness.”
“In your eyes,” Sam stated, but it wasn’t in a self-loathing tone, just a statement.
“Humans have such limited sight,” Cas smiled, “You cannot see how many people are watching over you, caring for you.”
“It’s hard to see anything else when you’re around,” Sam touched their foreheads again.
“Sam Winchester,” Cas felt the heat of the man’s breath, “I forgive you.”
Sam kissed him again, wrapping his arms around the angel’s body. Castiel had grown fond of being held so tightly and lifted upwards in the arms of his human, his hunter, his Sam.
He wondered if Sam truly understood he said. He wondered if Sam knew that he hadn’t just meant what Sam said earlier. He hadn’t just been talking about their fight. Cas was talking about everything. Cas was trying to tell Sam that his soul was already forgiven, redeemed. Sam already had a place waiting for him in heaven. There was no more forgiving to be done.
But he knew that Sam would keep working towards the forgiveness that he’d already earned.
And maybe that was part of why Castiel loved him.