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Winter in the bunker is hard for everyone, none of them like being cooped up, but it seems to hit Cas especially hard.
Dean knows it's because Cas’ grace is failing and, on top of feeling useless, he can't fly away whenever he wants or even get into heaven.
"Hey, Cas?" Dean asked one morning when Cas was looking particularly sad.
"Yes, Dean?" Cas said, half-heartedly taking a sip of his coffee.
"If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go?" Dean sits down next to the angel and nudges his shoulder. "And you can't stay at the bunker."
It was a game that he and Sam played a lot when John had dragged them around as kids. Normally they would pick a ridiculous category like "Where would you go for the best meal?" or "Where would you go for the the best place to set off fireworks?" and they'd debate until they dissolved into giggles. Being too often torn away from anything familiar or any friends they'd managed to make, playing "Where would you go?" was a way to help them remember all the good instead of the bad.
Instead of playing along (because, duh, Cas wouldn't know the rules), Cas stares back at Dean, eyes focusing on something far away.
"Angels don't have their own heaven, but they can visit other people's. There was one I liked very much, an eternal Tuesday afternoon in a garden," Cas smiles at the memory of his favorite heaven, but it soon turns sad and melancholy. "Or perhaps ... well, I can't anymore since I don't have wings, but ..."
"But if you could?" Dean prompts, hanging on each longing-drenched word.
"If I could, I would love to be among the stars again, just one last time," Cas whispers into his cup before standing and dumping its contents into the sink and wandering away.
For some reason, seeing Cas that sad, that full of yearning, sparked a ridiculous idea in Dean's brain and lit a fire under his ass. He set out the next day (in Sam’s truck because there was no way he was gonna fit everything into Baby) to pick up glass panes, wood beams, stone floor tiles, and all the other supplies he’d needed to purchase. He stored the materials underneath a tarp in the garage and spent every spare moment working on his project outside the back of the bunker.
That's where Sam finds him a few weeks later, fitting the last pane of glass into its place on a cold and drizzly afternoon.
“Dude, what the hell are you doing? Is this where you’ve been disappearing to?” Sam tries to make sense of the structure that was definitely not there a few months ago. It looks like the frame of a small house but the walls and roof are made entirely of glass.
“Uh, yeah, I needed a project or I was gonna go crazy just wandering around the bunker, so … ” Dean replies, shrugging and not quite managing to hide his blush.
“Uh huh, you really expect me to believe that you’re out here in the cold, building, whatever this is … for fun?”
“C’mon dude, can’t you tell it's a greenhouse? I thought I did a pretty good job.” Dean pouts a little bit, surveying his work critically.
“I think the word you’re looking for is conservatory if you’re planning on making it for more than just growing plants,” Sam corrects, eyeing the lounge chairs and unassembled shelves.
“Oh, yeah sure. It’s a conservatory then. I got it all planned out, look!” Dean excitedly pulls out his phone and thumbs through his camera roll until he reaches one and shows it to Sam.
“See I’m gonna have some chairs and maybe even a futon over here and there will be some plants on shelves over there. I even figured out a way to rig some solar panels so that I can plug in a heater and lights if I can’t figure out how to hook into the bunker so we can come out at night and watch the stars. Oh, and all the glass windows on this side will be able to open up when it gets warmer.”
The more Dean talks about it, the more it comes together in his head. He’s still a long way away, but now that the main structure is complete, he can let himself get excited about all the fun details.
“Dean this is awesome, but why would we ever need a conservatory?” Sam asks incredulously.
“Uh, I, um. Well, I thought it would be nice,” Dean gulps and quickly whispers, “for Cas.”
“You’re building Cas a conservatory? Did he ask for one?” Sam blinks back at him, still incredibly confused.
“No, not really, but he mentioned he missed this garden in heaven and being among the stars and I thought I could at least give him a small part of that since he’s stuck here with us. I mean, he’s lost a lot trying to help us, and–” Dean explains, huffing at his brother’s shocked expression, “What? Why're you looking at me like that?”
“Dude, Cas thinks he upset you. He thinks you’re pissed and avoiding him. He asked to find you and ask what he did wrong!” Sam splutters incredulously. "Why do you think he hasn't come to find you?"
“I’m not avoiding him! I thought I upset him by reminding him about heaven and the places he can't go anymore. I thought he wanted space."
Sam pinches the bridge of his nose and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like Why am I always caught in the middle of you two lovesick idiots?
"I just wanted to do something nice for him as, I don't know a thank you or an apology, for all he’s done for us.” Dean’s brows furrow as he kicks at the tiled floor, “He really thinks I’m mad at him?”
Sam lets out a long-suffering sigh, “Yes, Dean. People tend to think you’re avoiding them when you rush away and disappear any chance you get. And that’s the only reason you’re building this, to do something nice for Cas?”
“Uh, yeah?” It’s Dean’s turn to be completely confused, not getting whatever point Sam is obviously trying to steer him toward.
“Okay, let me try to spell this out for you. The only thing I’ve ever seen you this passionate about is Baby, because you love that car, right?” Sam says slowly, like maybe if he takes his time it will permeate Dean's thick skull.
“Yeah, she’s my Baby, so what? What’s that supposed to mean? It’s just something to keep me busy and be a nice surprise for Cas,” Dean replies stubbornly. He has an uncomfortable feeling he knows where Sam is going and he’s not sure if he wants his brother to make him own up to it or not.
“Yeah, and I took ASL courses because I just wanted to do ‘something nice’ for Eileen,” Sam snaps, breaking into a mega-watt bitch face when Dean keeps his blank. “Whatever, maybe one day you’ll get your head out of your ass and understand, but I’m not going to stand out here in the freezing rain and beat it into you.”
“It’s different ‘cause he’s my best friend,” Dean manages to get out, halting Sam's retreat. The explanation is terrible but Dean hopes Sam is smart enough to understand.
“I’m not saying love isn’t scary, Dean, especially because we’re not used to it. Eileen is my best friend, but she’s also so much more than that. I love joking and teasing her, but I also want her face to be the last thing I see at night. I want her voice to be the first thing I hear when I wake up. I want to spend hours doing absolutely nothing with her. She makes me want to do ridiculous and extravagant things to make her smile. Ridiculous and extravagant like building a whole conservatory to see the stars,” Sam finishes softly. The words hit a double punch to Dean's heart and lungs.
Rain patters on the glass ceiling calmly as Dean’s world shifts on its axis. Cas is his best friend, but it is more than just that. It always has been more, but Dean couldn’t see that because he’d never had someone stick by him as long as Cas had. He’d thought it was just friendship, just a desperation not to lose another person he cared about, but when he really thought about it, he wanted all the things Sam had mentioned. He wanted them with Cas.
“And whether you’re ready to take that risk or not, just make sure your surprise doesn’t hurt Cas more than it makes him happy. ‘Cause right now he’s moping all over the bunker and it’s driving me crazy!” Sam cuts through the tension building inside the conservatory. He gives his brother a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and heads back down to the bunker.
---
Dean does a better job of spending time with Cas over the next several weeks. Only now he's more aware when Cas sits a little too close or stares at Dean’s face for a little too long or casually brushes up against him in passing. Dean desperately overanalyzes each instance of affection, trying to shove them all into some sort of equation to figure out if Cas feels the same way about him.
He still hasn’t figured out the answer by the time the conservatory is done.
He’s got a fluffy rug down and the lounge chairs and futon are covered in pillows and blankets. He’s placed metal shelves around one side and stocked them with green plants and whatever flowers the lady at the shop had assured him he wouldn’t kill. Solar-powered fairy lights dangle from hooks between the glass panes of the ceiling. He even waited until a bee stuffed animal arrived as the finishing touch (it was absolutely necessary and he was most definitely not stalling). Everything was as perfect as it was going to get, the forecast even called for clear skies that night. Dean knew it was time.
He tells Sam his plan and his brother helpfully offers to make himself scarce. Once Sam is happily on his way to Eileen's, Dean gets down to work. He showers and gets into a nice suit (one that doesn’t scream FBI), combs his hair, and even puts on a dash of cologne. He makes his way to the kitchen and puts the champagne in the fridge to chill, he pulls out the peanut butter and jelly bars he made just for Cas, and grills up the burgers. He brings it all up to the conservatory and arranges everything nicely, he even sets up some candles for good measure.
“If I’m gonna do this whole date thing, there ain’t no way I’m gonna half-ass it. Not for Cas. ‘sides, maybe all the effort will make him at least go out on a pity date with me,” Dean mutters nervously as he lights each candle (still definitely not stalling).
With nothing left to set up or prepare, Dean takes a steadying breath and goes in search of Cas.
Cas turns out to be surprisingly elusive and the longer Dean wanders around the bunker, the more doubt begins to creep in.
I’m so dumb. What the hell am I even going to say to him? “Hey, Cas, I didn’t want you to be sad so I thought I’d make you something so you felt more at home in the bunker and, by the way, I’ve been in love with you for years but I’m just now realizing it. But no pressure, I know I’m just a mere mortal so feel free to tell me to fuck off.” Yeah, that’ll really charm him.
Dean's officially searched the majority of the bunker and, unless he's hiding in one of the maintenance rooms for some reason, Cas isn't there. Dean vaguely remembers Cas asking Sam if it was okay to use one of the cars a few days ago, but he’d been too nervous about the implications of finishing the conservatory to really pay attention.
Cas must have borrowed a car to go somewhere. Not that I blame him for wanting to get away, but it couldn’t have been any other night? Defeated, he slumps back to the greenhouse to blow out the candles and dump the food he’s not even hungry for anymore.
He's so deep into his own pity party that he doesn’t realize there's someone standing in the conservatory until he nearly bumps into them.
“Dean, where did this come from? Has it always been here?” Cas' deep voice rumbles with wonder as he takes in the plants, the decorations, and the stars.
“Oh, uh no. I made it,” Dean mutters, completely lost in how the dim light dances across Cas' face.
“You built this? That’s what you were doing these past months? Dean, it’s … it’s beautiful.”
Cas’ eyes shine with awe and pride as he smiles softly at Dean. Dean rubs his neck and looks away, not wanting to see how Cas reacts to his next confession.
“Uh yeah, you seemed like you needed something to cheer you up and this was as close as I could get to an eternal garden and being among the stars. I know it’s not much, but I hope it makes you feel a little bit more at home. In the spring and summer, we can get more plants and you can open the sides to let in bees and other pollinators. Oh, and there’s a heater over here so you can come at night and watch the stars if you want and you won’t get cold. Although, you’re still an angel so maybe that was a stupid thing to add. Do you even get cold?”
Dean sees Cas’ shoes get closer to his own, but he can't stop babbling to the floor. Cas stops when he's close enough that Dean can feel warm breath on his tucked chin, but it’s not the closeness that catches him off guard, it’s the tenderness in the hushed words the angel whispers onto his lips.
“You made this … for me?”
Dean's throat closes up, he forgets every single word he’s ever learned. He somehow manages to wrangle enough brain cells to force a nod.
“And the picnic over there? You made that too, for us?” The words are deep and rich and Dean can feel them rumbling and reverberating in his own chest.
“Uh, that was the plan. It was kind of supposed to be … a date?” Dean breathes out in a rush, the power of speech coming back to him.
A sharp intake of breath from Cas finally convinces Dean to look up and meet whatever fate is written in beautiful blue. Nothing could have prepared him for the love he sees, the love that he realizes has always been there.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” Cas warns and Dean does nothing to stop the angel from clutching his head and crashing their lips together.
Dean groans and kisses Cas back just as fiercely. It might be impossible to make up for all their lost time, but he can certainly try his damnedest.
They finally break away to regain their breath.
“Well, the burgers are definitely cold by now, not that I care that much,” Dean teases, giving in to the urge to kiss Cas’ temple. “But the champagne and the peanut butter and jelly bars should be good.”
“You really are perfect,” Cas stares at him in adoration.
Dean winks back at him, grinning stupidly while he uncorks and pours the champagne. He brings the drinks and sweets over to where Cas has made himself comfy on the futon, hugging the bee, and turns off the lights. They eat and drink and stare up at the heavens. Cas points out all the different constellations and tells Dean stories about galaxies that have come and gone.
They end up cuddling for long enough that Dean’s arm is going numb under Cas’ head, but he’d rather cut it off than even consider moving.
“I think this is my new favorite place,” Cas whispers sleepily, snuggling impossibly closer into Dean’s side.
“C’mon, you can be honest. I know I did a good job but it’s not like I got you back into heaven or brought you the stars,” Dean chuckles into Cas’ hair.
“It's more than 'good,' Dean, is beautiful! Even more so because you built it yourself, but that wasn't what I was talking about. I meant that here, in your arms, is my new favorite place.”
“Oh,” Dean’s face goes bright red and he hopes Cas doesn't notice in the dim starlight. He does.
“You are very pretty when you blush, Dean,” Cas murmurs kissing Dean’s jaw and making him blush even harder.
“So are you,” Dean fires back, loving the way he can feel Cas’ responding chuckle resonating in his chest.
“I love you, Dean,” Cas whispers, barely audible but Dean manages to catch it. His breath whooshes out of his lungs, simultaneously regretful and thankful that he and the stars are the only witnesses to the beautiful confession.
“I love you too, Cas,” Dean says, sealing the confession between Cas’ lips.