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Absentmindedly gathering up some clothes and other things, Cas shoves all of it into his small overnight bag, hoping that’s all he’ll need and Dean will come to his senses and change his mind in a day or two. Of course, they’ve never had a fight go this wrong before. Most of the time, they both cool off in a few hours and go on as if it never happened. Still, he clings to that lifeline of hope.
At the edge of his vision, he catches Dean leaning in the doorframe of their shared bedroom, arms crossed over his chest, somber green eyes measuring his movements. His chest rises and falls with sharp breaths and, okay, he’s still pissed. Fair enough. But he can hardly believe that all of this is over a pillow.
Okay, admittedly it’s about much more than a pillow, but it’s ridiculous that could be the breaking point. The reason he even grabbed the pillow was because it was the softest thing within reach, but when it struck Dean in the face, it was like a bomb detonating in the middle of their bed and now he is making the biggest mistake of his life. Both their lives. And there’s nothing Cas can do about it even though he knows this is not what either of them really wants.
They just need time to work through this. Just a little fucking time...
By the time Meg shows up on their doorstep, Cas is packed and ready to leave. Well, not ready to leave, but ready to go since Dean is intent on not giving him a choice. With one last glance over his shoulder at Dean still standing there unmoved, Cas blocks Meg from entering the house and pushes her back towards her car, opening the door. “Get in. Then we’ll talk,” he says, his voice already wavering, and he’s not going to cry in front of Dean who is almost certainly leaning over the back of the couch and watching from the window.
Once she’s behind the wheel, and backing out, she mutters, “Okay, now tell me what the asshole did.”
Cas had refused to explain the situation over the phone, barely holding on long enough for Meg to get there, but now the weight of it all comes crashing down on him, pressing him down into the bucket seat without mercy. With a sinking feeling in his gut and tears already forming in his eyes, he blurts out, “Fucking Lee Webb and his fucking meddling!” He grabs the seatbelt and jerks it which only causes it to hang up so he has to release it and try again several times until he manages to get it secured around his waist.
“Lee? What did Dean…oh my god…did he cheat on you with his ex?”
“No. I mean…I don’t think so, but Lee did everything he could to make it look like it,” he replies, simultaneously sniffing and rubbing his sleeve under his nose.
Meg reaches over and opens the glove compartment, pulling out a pack of tissues and pressing it into Cas’ hand. “Is that why he kicked you out? Did you accuse him of cheating?”
“Of course not. I trust Dean.” After struggling to find the tab to open the package, Cas simply rips it open, the tissues flying over the seat and fluttering into his lap. He grabs one and blows his nose. “We had a stupid insignificant fight and I thought it was done but he told Lee about it. Knowing that he wants him back.”
“So what made him tell you to leave?”
“I was so angry about him telling Lee about our personal issues and I know he’ll use it as ammunition to turn Dean against me. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t right and so he just closed down of course and wouldn’t listen or talk to me,” he blubbers, his usual baritone voice sounding nasally with his nose stuffy. “So I picked up a pillow and I slung it across the room at him…”
Meg stares at Cas, nearly steering the car into the ditch before she corrects the wheel and focuses back on the road. “It’s nice to see you stand up for yourself for once. Even if it was by throwing a pillow at the asshole’s head.”
“Yeah, except that’s when Dean told me it’s over and to get out.” He rubs his hands over his eyes in futility, more tears following in already established tracks.
“Listen, maybe it’s for the best. I know you two have been together for a year but you just moved in together and if you’re already having this kind of trouble…”
“I’m not giving up. Not yet,” he says, his stomach tightening and churning at the thought of losing Dean after how long it took to find him.
“Alright, let’s just put a pin in it until we get to my place. Let you breathe for a minute and then you’re going to tell me the whole story, okay?”
“Yeah”
They ride in silence, listening to the soft hum of the engine and the tires grating on the asphalt, Cas staring out the window at the stars wishing he could take the whole day back and start over from the morning when he and Dean were happily sharing breakfast on the couch they had only recently picked out together. His stomach clenches tighter with every mile added to the distance between them.
When they arrive at Meg’s, it hits Cas that he’s not only homeless, but he’s most likely lost the love of his life. A wave of nausea follows and no sooner does he enter the house than he’s rushing to the bathroom, falling to his knees on the cold tile floor, barely getting there in time to empty his stomach into the toilet. Meg takes a seat behind him on the edge of the bathtub, a cool wet cloth in her hand and pressed to his neck.
Even after there’s nothing left, he dry heaves for a while until his stomach finally settles. Cas lowers the cover and flushes, swiping his sleeve across his mouth before collapsing back against the tub between Meg’s knees. “Thank you,” he mumbles with his face squished on one side from his head resting on her thigh.
“Why don’t you shower and change and then we can talk?”
Nodding, his stubble scratches across the grain of her blue jeans.
Meg stands and moves around where Cas is still sitting on the floor in a daze, retrieving his bag from the living room where he dropped it and leaving it beside him. “I’ll be right out here if you need anything,” she says before closing the door behind her.
Cried out and empty, Cas drags himself to his feet staring at his face in the mirror. Red eyes, dried tear streaks down his cheeks, face puffy and hot. With a heavy sigh, he rinses with mouthwash and brushes his teeth. Reaching into the shower he turns the water on almost full hot before stripping down and stepping in, releasing a deep sobbing breath that wracks his chest. He stands there for a while with his forehead pressed against the wall letting the water run down his back, hands pressed flat against the tile on either side of his head.
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this…
When he drops his full weight to Meg’s couch, she pulls him to lean into her side, stroking his hair and offering him a hot chocolate which he gratefully accepts. “Start from the beginning. Tell me what happened.”
“Fucking Lee Webb. That’s what happened.”
Cas was kind of mesmerized from the first moment he saw Dean walk into the Gas-N-Sip. Tall, chiseled jaw with just a hint of stubble, bright green eyes and a proper dusting of freckles over his nose and cheeks. Despite the stupid clerk’s vest Cas had been wearing at the time, Dean seemed just as spellbound, lingering around the counter and flirting unapologetically for far longer than the average customer.
And Cas, though less experienced with that sort of thing, did his best to flirt back. That is until Dean started showing up with some guy who made a show of hanging off his arm and touching him whenever Cas was looking. And, well, he can admit that was most of the time until one day it was just Dean again and their flirting not only picked back up, it went into overdrive, both of them sneaking small touches when they found themselves alone, but never going further.
Frustrated and on the verge of being the one to make the first real move, Cas waited all day for Dean to show up at his usual time. Crushed when he finally had to give up and close the store for the night, he had locked the door and turned around to see Dean’s instantly recognizable black Impala parked on the far side of his powder blue Prius. Dean leaned against the hood with both hands tucked behind his back.
Cas ripped his vest off and tossed it into his back seat before loosening a couple of buttons on his shirt. Just as he stepped in front of Dean, he pulled his hands out to reveal a bouquet with a giant sunflower and smaller daisies in white and yellow. Somehow it was the perfect thing even though he had never imagined himself a flower type of person before. Well and truly smitten, Cas held the flowers in his arms and moved into Dean’s personal space.
Instead of kissing him, Dean had ducked out and opened the passenger door of his sleek car, gesturing for Cas to get in and closing it behind him. They grabbed burgers from Dean’s favorite diner and sat out in a field on the Impala’s hood watching the stars, talking about every damn thing they could think of until the sun came up over the horizon, painting the sky with fire.
In that moment, Dean finally leaned in, his hand slipping up to Cas’ neck, fingers warm against his skin. Cas’ hands twisted into the collar of Dean’s green and black flannel, pulling him in the rest of the way. Though it may have been just a bit awkward at first, too much teeth and tongue, he still remembers it as the best kiss he’s ever had. Though he would have said yes to anything Dean asked at that moment, they waited until their third date before they decided to have sex and they dated for a full year before moving in together.
And that’s when the trouble began.
Jealous at seeing Dean happy with someone else after dumping him and going back to his ex, Lee started to send text messages carefully designed to imply they were messing around behind Cas’ back. Which would not have been a problem on its own. Hardly a jealous person, he trusted Dean completely. Until he broke his trust by confiding in Lee about their relationship and that hurt far worse than any other pain he’s ever known.
“That asshole!” Meg seethes, drying a few errant tears from Cas’ face with the cuff of her sweatshirt.
“Which one?”
“Both I guess.” Meg offers him a drink of her screwdriver which he can tell from where he sits is mostly vodka by the strong smell of alcohol. “So what are you going to do now?”
He pushes the glass away. “I’m going to go to sleep and try to talk to him again tomorrow.”
“He doesn’t deserve you, Clarence,” she says, getting up from the couch and pulling the blanket draped over the back to cover him.
With his chest aching from dry heaves and his stomach empty, he falls asleep to fitful dreams, waking in the middle of the night but unable to get back to sleep without Dean lying next to him. Instead, he moves to the kitchen and starts coffee, hoping it will get him through the day. He fights the urge to call or text Dean, trying to wait at least until he’s on his lunch break before he tries talking to him again
The waiting wears on his patience and he wrestles for most of the morning trying to justify not waiting, but every time he starts to type something, his mind blanks and nothing sounds right. He may only get one chance. By noon, he still sits there with the phone in his hand and no idea what to say.
Meg leans in and hooks her chin over his shoulder. “Just be honest,” she says, pressing a kiss to his cheek before getting up and giving him some privacy.
Honest.
He types out the most honest thing he can think of right now.
I miss you
After a few minutes of staring down at the phone lying limp in his hand, he sees Dean is typing, those three little dots at the bottom of his screen tracing the beat of his pounding heart. When they finally stop and no message follows, his breath catches violently. He waits far longer than he should, watching and hoping for something. The lack of a response hurts worse than outright rejection. That he could respond to, but this…it leaves a gaping hole in his chest.
Slipping down onto the couch, he pulls the blanket to cover most of him, not particularly caring about his feet hanging over the edge of the cushions. He closes his eyes wishing for oblivion but he only sleeps in fits and starts, constantly opening his eyes in confusion until he remembers where he is and why and then the ache begins to throb in his chest and head until he sleeps again just to feel numb.
By the time he wakes fully, the room is dark and Meg is sitting with her legs folded up in the chair across from him stewing, his phone gripped in her hand. “The coward couldn’t even tell you to fuck off?”
“Please tell me you didn’t…”
“Of course not. Even if he deserves it. And even if you deserve better, I’m not going to interfere.”
“Thank you, Meg,” he says with a heavy sigh, grateful to have her, knowing she would go and kick Dean’s ass if he said the word, but that she will also mind her business until he says otherwise.
“So, what I am going to do is take you out tomorrow night. We’re going to meet Ruby and Bela at Crowley’s and I will not take no for an answer.”
“Alright. I’ll go but I can’t promise I’m going to enjoy myself.”
“I’ll take what I can get,” she says, getting to her feet and tossing his phone next to him on the couch.
Even before he checks his messages he knows there’s not one from Dean. Still, he tries again.
Will you please just tell me if there’s still a chance for us?
I don’t want to lose you.
Rather than torture himself again, Cas locks the screen and slips the phone to the table on his way to the kitchen. He makes himself a coffee and grabs a honeybun before sinking back into the couch where he proceeds to stuff his mouth full, instantly regretting eating junk food on an empty stomach. Just as he finishes his coffee, his phone dings. With shaking hands, he places the mug on a coaster and gingerly picks up his phone recoiling when it dings for a second time in his hand.
I don’t know what you want from me.
I told you that I can’t talk to you right now.
What did I do that was so terrible?
I’m sorry about the pillow.
And I get that it’s about more than that.
Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.
Please…
Just stop.
Cas stops.
Turning the screen off, he shoves his phone deep into his pockets to keep Meg’s prying eyes off while he’s sleeping. She and Dean have always mixed about as well as water and oil but they’ve also always put all of their differences aside for his benefit. They both love him that much. She might even be right about Dean, but it’s the last thing he wants to hear right now. Cas still loves him and the thought of losing him hurts too much to entertain.
He settles back into the sofa and closes his eyes, hovering between waking and sleeping, never quite sure which he prefers, the disjointed fever dreams or the confusion of waking up alone. When he finally wakes to a bright room flooded with sunlight, he groans and pulls the blanket up over his head to block out the day.
“Come on sleepyhead,” Meg croons at him while tugging on the blanket. “Let’s get out of this house and go get you something to wear tonight.”
“I have clothes.”
“Yes, I noticed. Sweats and t-shirts. Typical break-up attire. You’re not wearing sweats to Crowley’s.”
Fuck. He groans and tugs the blanket back up. “I changed my mind.” The truth is, he had already forgotten that he agreed to go.
“Nope. You’re going. When was the last time you went out anyway?”
Cas really thinks about that. He and Dean used to go out all the time. Dinner, movies, dancing, hanging out with their friends. “I don’t know,” he says, bewildered by the truth of it. With Dean working during the day and Cas working at night, they had sort of fallen into a routine that left little time for anything else.
“Which is why you’re going out with me tonight. Now come on.”
Instead of fighting this time, he lets Meg pull the blanket back and help him to his feet. “Alright, let’s get this over with.
At Meg’s insistence, Cas searches the racks for something different, a new look. She has always hated his ties and his trench coat. After trying on several outfits and getting shot down, he finally ends up with a baby blue cashmere sweater and a pair of dark wash jeans. He finishes the new outfit off with a pair of tan suede boots.
“Those jeans hug your body in all the right places. Dean would lose his mind if he saw you right now.”
“That’s…that’s not what this is about, Meg,” Cas says with a shake of his head as he turns in front of the mirror. “If I can’t get him to change his mind because he loves me, I’m not going to use sex to get him back.” Seeing how good he looks, he grabs the sweater in a jade green too, adding another pair of jeans in a faded wash as well.
“Let’s grab something to eat.”
Over lunch Cas declares his relationship off limits for discussion so they spend the afternoon talking about everything else going on in their lives, and he realizes how much he has missed this, shopping with Meg and hanging out, just the two of them. “I’m sorry. I’ve been such a terrible friend lately. I’ve been so focused on my relationship with Dean that I’ve really neglected you.”
“It’s alright, Clarence. I have missed you though.”
“No, it’s not and I’m going to fix it,” he promises, holding her gaze until she nods, her mouth widening in a smile. “No matter what happens with Dean, you and I are going to spend more time together. Okay?” Being with Dean has changed him, for both better and worse. He may not have him anymore, but he would like to keep the pieces of Dean that have made him a better person and let go of the rest.
By the time they make it back to Meg’s, they have just enough time to each have a shower, putting her water heater to the test, and get ready before she’s tugging him towards the door. “Come on, let’s go…”
Cas pulls his phone back out of his pocket. “Give me a minute,” he says, staring down at the screen and thinking about how he wants to end things. No desperation or begging. No petty accusations or simpering apologies. Simple acceptance and honesty.
I know you don’t want to talk.
And I know you don’t want to hear from me.
But I just wanted to say one thing.
I love you. And I always will.
Even as he sends each text, the little checkmark shows they’ve been read. No dots. Just stillness. Cas takes a bit of comfort in the finality of it. It’s over and he can start to let go and move on. He’s made enough of a fool of himself fighting for something that’s already lost. Thrusting the phone deep into his bag and tossing it on the couch, he follows Meg, flipping the light switch as they step through the door.
Meg finds a parking space not too far from the entrance and they walk arm in arm, Cas opening the door and releasing the ambient noise of glasses clinking and voices shouting. As they step inside, the live band on stage moves to their next song, amplified through the speakers hung around the room. Crowley spots the two of them as they near the bar and points out a table in the opposite corner where Ruby and Bela wait for them.
Hugs ensue and he knows it has been a long time since he’s seen them. Ruby has gone from her signature blonde hair to lucious brown locks and he has to admit they suit her better. And Bela, she’s lost the sleek look, embracing her natural waves and dressing down for a change. It’s a good look.
“It feels like ages since I’ve seen you,” Bela says, her posh accent reminding him that she’s not changed all that much.
Ruby drags him into the booth next to her. “When Meg said she was bringing you, I didn’t believe her.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”
“Too busy snuggling up to that hot boyfriend of yours. Not that I blame you.” Bela levels a look at him across the table reading his expression and changing the subject. “But no relationship talk tonight.”
Crowley sidles up next to Cas and says, “On the house,” his Scottish heritage bleeding through as he leans in close to place their drinks on the table.
“Thanks,” Meg says dismissively, taking a sip that lasts until he walks back towards the bar. “Damn, that is actually pretty good.”
Cas takes a sip of his own drink and he has to agree, it is actually very good. He can hardly taste the liquor, a problem which only presents itself as the night wears on and he finds himself progressively more unsteady and uninhibited. Women, and even a few men, hit on him and for a while he retains his wits about him enough to brush them off. After he’s stumbling drunk, Meg seems to always show up at just the right time to drag him away from making a terrible mistake.
“Meg, you’re the best,” he says, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek as she helps him out to her car when Crowley finally kicks them out before locking the place up.
She props him up against the hood, which is nice and cool against his skin, while she gets the passenger door open and then just sort of shoves him inside like he’s grown too big to fit, leaning into the door until it latches. “There ya go.” She drops into the driver’s seat and starts the car, pulling her phone out and dialing someone.
“Who’s that?” he asks, suddenly realizing how loud he is inside the small cab. “Am I talking too loud?”
Meg waves her hand at him and carries on a conversation about work and Cas and something about being too drunk. “Thanks, Nora.” She slips the phone under her thigh and drives. “You’re going to be in no condition to work tomorrow afternoon so I took care of it.”
“You called in sick for me?” he asks, letting his head fall back against the headrest because it’s too heavy to hold up.
“Yeah, I did. You deserve to have a sick day.” Her voice is so full of fondness, Cas wonders why they never got involved.
“I’m gay,” he says, suddenly remembering why they’ve always only been friends.
Her head thrown back and her body shaking with laughter, Meg steers them toward the ditch for a moment before correcting course and pulling the tires back onto the asphalt. “Yeah, you are.”
They make a few unscheduled stops on the way home for Cas to vomit up every regret he’s ever had in the form of half-digested appetizers. When they finally make it to Meg’s, he makes a quick dash for the toilet one last time and gargles with mouthwash before crawling his way onto the couch. The room spins around him for only a minute or two before he’s out.
When Cas first opens his eyes, it’s to a dark and stuffy blanket covering his face. Meg must have come along and covered him sometime during the night. The memories begin to rush in and he remembers her watching out for him when he was too stupid drunk to take care of himself. Others may find her too rough-edged and abrasive, but she’s the best friend he’s ever had. Even now, he can hear her tiptoeing around the kitchen trying not to make too much noise.
Pulling the blanket down, Cas blinks at the sudden brightness, a pounding starting behind his eyes and spreading. His guts both growl and gurgle, demanding food while promising to send it right back up. He pushes himself up so that he’s leaning against the arm of the couch with his eyes still trying to close despite the jackhammer inside his head.
The couch shifts as Meg sits beside him. “Here,” she says softly, pressing a glass into one hand and some pills into the other. “This will help. And eat.” She points out a bowl of fruit on the table.
He swallows the medicine and drinks almost the whole glass. “Thank you.”
“Welcome,” she says, grabbing another full glass of water from the table, which she trades for his empty, brushing her fingers through his probably disheveled hair, her eyes soft and warm and looking at him like he hung the moon.
A phone conversation on their drive home last night comes to mind and he remembers she even got him out of having to go to work today. “I meant what I said. You are the best.” He picks up a slice of orange and stuffs it into his mouth, chasing it with a gulp of water. “So, since I’m not working today, what do you want to do?”
“Really? You sure you feel up to it?”
“I mean, give me an hour. Or two. But yes, let's go and do something. Just you and me.”
Before they leave, Cas checks his phone one last time in case anyone has missed him, but there’s nothing. Not that he expected some grand declaration of love, but there’s not even a goodbye from Dean. Rather than bring him lower, the slight awakens something deep and dark within him and he shoves the phone back into his bag, dusting himself off and walking out the door with his head held high.
Meg takes him shopping again and they spend too much money on more new clothes to fit the new Cas. After a long lunch at a little deli, they decide to walk around the city, taking in the architecture and window shopping. In the evening, they go out to dinner at a stupidly expensive restaurant. They eat too much dessert and drink too much wine. They talk too loud and laugh too much.
Despite enjoying himself, that feeling from the morning simmers and smolders inside him throughout the day until they get back to the house. He digs through his bag until he finds the phone. Staring down at the screen, he thinks for one moment about deleting Dean’s number, but he still has to arrange to collect his things. Not today or tomorrow. Probably not for a few days still, but at some point it’s inevitable.
Neither Dean nor Cas make any attempts to communicate over the next few days and Cas comes to the realization that their relationship is really over. Beyond bargaining and denial, he settles somewhere between depression and acceptance, fighting the anger that continues to worm its way in.
With Meg’s offer of a place to stay as long as he needs it, he finally decides it’s probably time to make arrangements to pack up his things. After she drops him off at work, he takes a minute to lock himself in the bathroom and send Dean his last few messages.
Tomorrow is the only day I have off for the next few days.
I would like to come and pack up some of my things.
I can stop by while you’re at work.
I’ll be gone before you get home.
Let me know if that works for you.
He shoves his phone back into his pocket and clocks in for work. Nora gives him a pitiful look every time they pass and he almost says something, but what can he say. Meg already filled her in so there’s no point in denying what’s going on. Instead, he tries to let his job keep him distracted, finding something to do when they have no customers.
He mops the floor, cleans the refrigerator doors, straightens the shelves, anything to keep his mind occupied and not thinking about tomorrow. He’s not thinking about packing up the life he’s lived with Dean for the last year and starting over without him. He’s not thinking about their last kiss or the last time they made love. He’s not thinking about the last angry words they said to each other as he’s ripping off a powerball receipt for a customer.
The bell over the door rings, heralding his next patron. He passes the ticket to the woman and she steps aside, leaving him face to face with Dean. His green eyes roam slowly over Cas’ jade sweater and trail down to the faded denim hugging his thighs.
For just a moment, hope claws its way up into his chest trying to make some space there among the resignation and peaceful acceptance he truly believed he had found. Instead of letting the feeling take root, he weeds it out, leaving the soil of his heart scarred and tattered. With an audible and regrettable gasp he opens his mouth to speak. “H-how can I help you?” he says, almost succeeding at keeping his voice even.
Finally leaning in, Dean’s hands grip the edge of the counter. “I need to talk to you.” His voice is soft and just a bit hoarse as if he’s been screaming or crying.
Either way, Cas can hardly afford to let himself think too much about that. “There’s nothing to talk about. You’ve made yourself clear,” he says, bitterness creeping into his tone.
“I messed up, Cas. Okay? I was afraid of saying something and losing you forever. I just needed a little time.”
“Yeah, so did I.” ‘Your time’ he thinks, leaving the truth unspoken.
“Please-”
“Buddy, you gonna take all day or what?” the man behind him says, cutting him off.
Dean’s eyes flash and his lips form a flat white line as he steps aside and waits quietly while Cas does his job, ringing the man up and sending him on his way. “Please, Cas, just give me a chance to explain.” Sliding back over, Dean leans closer this time, his hands inching towards Cas’ where they grip the opposite edge of the counter.
“Dean, I gave you plenty of chances. Did you really think that I would be sitting here waiting for you to blow in whenever you feel like it?”
“I, uh…no. I just know that I don’t want to lose you.”
“You didn’t lose me,” he mutters, his heart bleeding inside his chest, watching the flicker of hope flash in Dean’s eyes with regret. “You pushed me away.”
“Cas…”
“I’m at work. I need you to leave.”
Dean pulls a crumpled envelope from his back pocket and slides it across the counter, their fingers touching when they meet. “If you never want to see me again, I’ll understand, but please read this. I need you to know a few things,” he says, his voice dropping lower, familiar and creeping over fragile walls already one breath away from crumbling.
“I’ll read it.”
It’s a promise that is maybe more than Dean deserves, but he makes it all the same.
Dean lets the envelope slip free from his fingers, his hand rising and twitching for a moment near Cas’ face, seemingly itching to touch him. “Goodbye, Cas,” he says, lowering his hand to his side and backing away. After a few feet, he turns and walks out the door, the bell again ringing, this time tolling the end.
A hand falls light on his arm drawing him back to himself with a gasp and a lightly shuddered breath. “Nora…” His shoulders fall and he glances down at the envelope clenched in his hand.
“You can use my office.”
He opens his mouth to protest but nods instead when she points toward the door, her raised brows telling him she means business. “Thank you,” he says, his feet already carrying him in that direction.
Sinking into the comfy office chair, Cas retrieves the letter opener from the desk drawer, carefully slipping it under the flap and making a quick slit at the end. Blowing into the envelope to separate the two sides, he tweezes the letter out between his fingers. Taking a deep breath, he unfolds the page and begins to read.
Cas,
If you’re reading this, then I guess I blew it. I always knew I would eventually because nothing good ever lasts. I break everything I touch. And no matter how tightly I held onto you I knew I would lose the best thing I’ve ever had. But for a little while, you were mine and I’ll never be able to tell you how grateful I am for that.
I want you to know that I haven’t spoken to Lee since the night you left. I realized you were right. Not only about talking to him about us, but also what he was trying to do. I’ll never forgive him for that. But, most importantly, I’ll never forgive myself for not seeing it sooner and for letting him come between us.
This is my fault. I want you to know that too. Don’t ever think that you did something wrong. You tried to explain how I hurt you and I didn’t listen when I had the chance. I should have answered your texts. I should have called. I should have jumped in Baby and beat you to Meg’s that first night and brought you back home. And I wanted to. I really did. I don’t know why I couldn’t just say all these things then, when they still meant something to you.
I know it’s too late and you can’t forgive me. I don’t blame you for that. Just know that you were the fucking love of my life and all I want is to see you happy. So don’t be afraid to love again. When love finds you, you let it in and you don’t let it go. I hope that whoever is lucky enough to earn your love will see you for the gift you are. I hope they treat you right and that they deserve you in all the ways I never did.
I love you. And I always will.
Dean
After reading it for the tenth time, Cas lowers the letter to the desk, grabbing more tissues to dry his eyes again, loudly blowing his nose which is simultaneously stuffy and runny, defying the laws of physics. Just when he thinks he has his emotions in check, the tears start flowing again, his breathing rapid and heart hammering in his chest.
Clawing at the phone in his pocket, he pulls it out and opens his texts to Dean. He probably should have deleted them but they’re still there. He scrolls up to see some of their texts from before. Messages of love and care. Thoughtfulness. And he realizes that Dean is wrong. This is not his fault. Not all of it. Cas has always had a voice in their relationship and he chose not to use it too often, going with the flow even when he wanted something else. He has played his role in all of this and then blamed Dean when he let some little thing make him unhappy.
He has to stop him before he makes an even bigger mistake.
Grabbing the crumpled letter, he gets to his feet and rushes from the office back to the counter. “I need to go…” He forces the words out between sobbing breaths.
“Go get him,” she says, grabbing her extra set of keys from under the counter and tossing them in his direction.
Catching them in one hand, he peels the ugly vest off his shoulders as he’s running out the door. A large white delivery van stands between him and Nora’s car, the brake lights on as it shifts to reverse. He taps his foot as he waits for the driver to back out, revealing Dean leaning back against Baby’s door, this time with a bouquet held in front of his chest.
“I came here tonight hoping that you would give me the chance I didn’t give you. And I meant every word that I wrote in that letter.” A tear wells up and falls, rolling over the smattering of freckles on Dean’s cheek.
Taking the last few steps to close the distance between them, Cas takes the bouquet, nearly identical to the one Dean gave him the night of their first date, except there are two sunflowers and a lot more daisies. The little card tucked under the string matches the logo on the delivery van. “I didn’t realize you could get flowers delivered out here,” he says, balancing the weight in his arms.
“It was worth it to see the look on your face. No matter what,” he says, lips trembling with uncertainty.
Reaching out, Cas swipes his thumb across Dean’s cheek, wiping away the tear, releasing a fragile laugh when he returns the favor. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Dean says, his eyes flicking down to his lips and back again.
With his free hand, Cas grips Dean’s shirt collar, pulling him closer and surging to meet him at the same time. Unlike their first kiss, unsure and anxious, this one knows what it is and what it wants to be and Cas feels it all the way down inside his boots where his toes curl. Dean grips his hips and pulls him flush to his body and he can feel his affection pressing against him.
“God, you have no idea what seeing you looking like this is doing to me,” Dean moans softly against his cheek.
“Oh I think I have an idea.” Cas shifts against him so he can feel the return of his affection.
“Can we get out of here?”
Cas pulls away and opens the back door, gently placing the flowers over the backseat, marveling at how they barely fit. He tosses his vest in the back window and climbs out. “How do burgers under the stars sound?”
Opening the passenger door with one hand, Dean presses his other palm into the curve of Cas’ back as he guides him to clamber in before rushing around to the other side and climbing in behind the wheel. Baby starts with a soft idling purr and Dean leans across the seat, brushing his lips over Cas’ skin up to his ear. “It sounds perfect,” he whispers, slipping his arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer until he slides over beside him.
Where he belongs.