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“I love you.”
The words hang heavy in the air, a lead weight that crushes Dean. Tears pool in his eyes.
“Cas,” he pleads. “Don’t do this.” The lump in his throat won’t let him say anything else.
Cas smiles at him, his eyes red, filled with tears too.
The shadows come, and he is gone.
It’s over as quickly as it began.
“I love you.”
Has he been here before?
Everything is blurry, and all he can make out is the vague shape of Cas standing there, waiting. He’s always been patient.
Say something. His throat is closed up, and he’s choking, drowning.
But he has to say something. Even if it’s begging, even if it’s pleading, Dean’s pride doesn’t mind it anymore. Because Cas can’t just leave , damn it. Not now, not after so long, not after he just—
Not now. He doesn’t have much time left.
He opens his mouth.
“Attorney General Bill Barr has been forced to resign.”
“I love you.”
This isn’t the first time he’s been here.
Cas is standing in front of him, and he just told him he loves him. There are tears in both their eyes, but Cas is smiling. There’s a kind of deja vu in it all.
The words echo over and over in the air between them, and Dean doesn’t think they’ll ever stop.
He doesn’t know if he’s been here before, but it all feels so real , and it’s all too goddamn much, and Cas can’t just leave.
The words pour from his mouth before he realizes it.
“The US senate acquitted Trump over his role in the US Capitol riots.”
“I love you.”
What the fuck? There’s definitely something going on, because he’s sure, he knows he’s been here before. How many times, though? How many times has Cas told him he loves him?
He tries to remember what happened, tries not to look at Cas right in front of him.
The first time he was here, the Empty took him.
Which means it’ll be back soon. He doesn’t have much time.
Cas, listen. I think something weird’s up.
At least, that’s what he tries to say.
“ABBA is dropping a new album on November 5th.”
“I love you.”
And there it goes again.
Dean looks at Cas, at his eyes, red, filled with tears, filled with hurt. His lips, giving him a small, sad smile, despite everything.
Like they have been for God-knows-how-many times, Dean reminds himself. Focus. He needs out. Cas needs out.
Cas, listen to me . Something’s wrong. We need to get the hell out of here.
He pictures the words, imagines his voice saying them, holds on to any shred of hope that Cas would hear them, somehow.
They’re not the ones that come out of his mouth.
“The Zodiac killer has finally been identified.”
“I love you.”
Cas, please, just listen to me. This isn’t right. We need to get the fuck out.
“There are no wolves in Pennsylvania.”
“I love you.”
Cas, please. I can’t get out of here without you.
“That tag is banned on iOS.”
“I love you.”
Cas, can you hear me?
“Elon Musk bought Twitter.”
“I love you.”
Cas, are you there? Cas…
Cas.
Dean hasn’t really been looking at him. As soon as he realizes that, something screams at him to do it, to look Cas’ way. Dean’s not sure what it is, but he does.
Cas’ eyes are bloodshot, and the tears in them make them shine. Dean finds himself remembering every time he looked at them, maybe for a little too long.
And, God, he’s smiling, actually smiling. How? How can he smile at Dean right now?
It’s weird, but not bad weird, not monster weird. It makes Dean’s chest tighten, and he’s not sure he wants it to stop.
No, no more of that. He needs out, right now. So does Cas.
He tries to form a response in his mind. Cas, listen to me. His head is heavy, aching, and his eyes want so desperately to close. There’s something wrong.
How many times has he thought that now?
“Donald Trump’s Mar-a-Lago home is being raided by the FBI.”
“I love you.”
Dean feels so tired.
And Cas is right in front of him, Cas is telling him he loves him, and Dean can hear his heart beat like it wants to burst out of his chest, and he doesn’t have to say anything. Or do anything. He just has to listen to him.
And at least this time nothing will take Cas.
Dean barely hears the words he says.
“The Queen is dead.”
“I love you.”
“Elon Musk is being sued by the King of England.”
“I love you.”
“They found the wreckage of the Titan submersible.”
“I love you.”
“SEGA employees are unionizing.”
“I love you.”
“Love you too.”
Dean jolts awake. For a moment, there’s nothing else.
Did he say that? He heard himself saying it, but does that mean he said it? Why can’t he hear anything else? Does that mean— Did Cas hear?
Cas is looking at him, but the tears have stopped flowing. His eyes are narrowing, and his mouth is hanging slightly open.
“Dean?”
“I love you.”
The 2024 US Presidential election will take place—
No. No, he doesn’t give a shit about the fucking 2024 election.
Cas, it’s me. Are you there? he prays, because Cas can’t leave. Not if he heard. Dean can’t do that to him.
—on November—
“Cas, I love you too.”
Silence, and nothing else. Cas’s smile widens, and the tears don’t stop.
No shadows come.
“Dean?”
“Cas.” Dean sprints to him and pulls him into a hug. Cas’ arms wrap around him, and his breath is in Dean’s ear, frantic at first, then slowing into a steady, familiar rhythm. Like it should, like it always should.
Cas’ hand is on his chest, soft and gentle. Dean breathes out. He never thought it would be there.
His other hand settles on Dean’s waist, and he pulls away, just enough for Dean to see his face.
His eyes are wide and disbelieving, and he closes them with a breath. His lips are parted, just slightly. Almost—
Cas leans in. A million things flutter through Dean’s mind. Cas is leaning closer, whispering Dean’s name.
“Yes.”
Their lips touch. Cas is breathing faster, and Dean feels it on his tongue. He savors it, savors the taste of salt on Cas’ lips, savors Cas.
Because Cas is here.
They both pull away, out of breath, hands lingering on each others’ shoulders, arms.
“Cas?” Dean asks. “What…happened?”
“I don’t know.” There’s a tinge of fear in Cas’ eyes now. “I don’t know, I was…The Empty was about to take me, then I…I heard you.”
Cas heard.
Dean’s stomach drops, because Cas actually heard. He wanted Cas to hear, and there’s still a small part of him that’s giddy, excited. But now he can just see this go to shit, right in front of him. Hasn’t it always?
“I heard you too,” Dean says. He can only distantly hear himself, from somewhere deep, dark, underground.
The Empty was about to take Cas. Because of Dean. Dean would have gotten Cas killed again.
“Dean,” Cas says, quietly. His eyes are soft, filled with something Dean can’t quite identify. He can’t look away from them. “I meant it. What you heard. Everything.”
Cas’ voice is a hand, reaching for Dean’s, offering to pull him out of whatever pit he’s in. Dean doesn’t know if anyone can.
But he can’t let Cas go. And some selfish part of him wants to take it.
So he does.
And he feels Cas’ hand wrap around his, fingers over his knuckles, a thumb over his. He looks at their hands, and then up at Cas. Cas is looking at him.
“The Empty,” Dean blurts out. “Is it still…I mean, is it…is it coming? Anytime soon?”
“I…” Cas ponders for a moment. “It doesn’t appear to be.”
They wait. Still, no shadows come.
Dean doesn’t know what that means, and he can’t quite shake the pit of unease in his gut. Still, neither of them are dead. He’s going to take that as a win.
He finds he doesn’t really want to stay in the Bunker for now, even if it is his home. He wants to go outside, feel the cool air on his skin, breathe in it.
“Cas?” He realizes he hasn’t let go of his hand, and his heart tightens. “Do you wanna get out of here? Maybe grab a bite, or…something.”
That sounds so normal . And that feels so weird, but maybe it’s the good kind of weird. Maybe they can try being normal, just for a bit.
“Yes,” Cas says. “I’d like that.”
Hand in hand, they walk away.