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The Empty is getting better at impersonating Dean.
The Bunker-- because Cas was in the Bunker in this version-- is quiet. Dean is asleep, curled beside Cas in bed, hand tucked under his head. From his position on the edge of the bed, Cas can count the freckles dotting the bridge of his nose, across his cheeks. He has long since memorized the expanse of little golden freckles on Dean's face, how they changed over time, from winter to spring to summer...if Cas didn't know better, he'd almost think this Dean is real.
His fingers itch to reach out and card through Dean's soft brown hair, but he doesn't want to disturb Dean's sleep.
In this iteration, Dean welcomed him back warmly after Cas appeared in the Bunker. In this iteration, Dean loves him back.
Cas knows it will all crumble down around him soon. He can feel his Grace, but it's weak and fading. That's how the Empty will torment him this time, Cas thinks. He and Dean will go on a hunt together, and Cas will have everything he wants, up until the moment Dean's reflexes are a second too slow, and a monster gets the jump on him, and Cas is across the room, unable to help and unable to heal.
Cas can try to hold off, stay curled up and protected in the quiet night, as long as possible. But when he closes his eyes, he's still greeted by the inky blackness of the Empty, and he can hear the entity's laugh ringing in his ears.
Still, in this iteration, Dean doesn't hate him. Cas isn't happy-- the Empty would never dare allow that-- but he's in love.
It's nice. It's enough.
Cas reaches out, gently scratching at Dean's scalp, and Dean leans into the touch, his breath a soft huff against his pillow.
Cas glances at the clock, keeping a hand on Dean. Sam will be getting up, soon, to go for a run. Perhaps Cas will join him for breakfast afterwards, start the coffee maker so Dean can have some when he wakes up.
Perhaps today, Dean will take Cas out to lunch at the small hole-in-the-wall diner with the bacon cheeseburgers that Dean likes. Cas will order whatever Dean does, and when Dean finished his food, he will swap his plate with Cas's, while Cas sips on a milkshake and takes fries from Dean's plate. Dean will fill the silence by talking about the movie he wants to show Cas that night, and he'll take Cas's hand on the way back to the parking lot, and he won't let go.
Or perhaps Dean will just die today, in Cas's arms.
When Cas looks at Dean, for a moment, all he can see is Dean in a warehouse, thousands of them, all bloodied and bruised. Some of those Deans loved Cas too.
Dean shifts again. His green eyes slowly open, blinking away sleep, and the corners of his lips twitch up in a small smile. Cas can't help himself; he smiles back. Dean looks beautiful like this.
"Hey," Dean says, voice gravelly from sleep.
"Hello, Dean."
Dean angles his head up, searching Cas's eyes for something. "Don't tell me I've got something on my face." In reply to Cas's frown, he adds, "You're staring."
"I'm sorry." Cas's hand drops back down to his side.
"Don't be." Dean angles his head expectantly, and Cas leans down to kiss his forehead, then kiss his lips, closed-mouth and lingering.
Dean sits up, keeping his head in Cas's space, leaning his forehead against Cas's.
"I was going to make you coffee," Cas offers.
"I like this better," Dean replies, chasing Cas's lips again. Cas feels Dean's palm cradling his cheek, and he lets Dean guide him, lets him deepen the kiss.
"I'd like to go somewhere today," Cas murmurs when Dean pulls away. "Not on a hunt."
"Like a date?"
"Yes, exactly like a date."
Dean makes a show of stretching, shaking the grey sheet loose from his bare chest. He pecks Cas on the forehead, quick and casual. The small portion of Cas's remaning Grace basks in the contact like a cat in a narrow beam of sunlight. For a moment, Cas can almost believe this is real.
"There's one of those fancy botanical gardens a few hours from here," Dean offers. "We could drive over, check it out."
"I would like that."
Dean smiles. He kisses Cas one last time before rolling out of bed, throwing on a red flannel shirt. Cas watches him. He wants to walk up to Dean, wrap his arms around Dean's waist, press little kisses to the crook of Dean's neck, memorize the feeling of Dean's laugh against his skin. Doing that, though, feels like he'd be ruining the dream. Prompting the Empty to come and tear him from this early.
It's odd. Cas never thought he could long for something that was so close. After all these years, Dean is still teaching him more about the contradictory experience of human emotions.
Perhaps Dean picks up on this, because he sighs softly and turns around, leaning up against the closet and just slightly avoiding Cas's gaze.
"We haven't really talked about this since you got back," Dean starts, a little awkward. It almost sounds like he's been practicing. "Are you happy, Cas? With me, like this?"
This is it, Cas thinks. The end of the iteration. Dawn is here, and Dean will die in some gruesome way that Cas cannot stop, and he will bleed out in Cas's arms. They will probably never even reach the botanical garden before Cas is thrust into another iteration. The next Dean will probably not love him.
Cas does love every iteration of Dean, though. He knows what answer would hurt Dean. He doesn't want to do that.
"Yes, I'm happy."
Dean reaches out, and Cas takes his hand, lacing their fingers together. Dean pulls, and Cas follows.
It almost feels real. For a minute, Cas is almost happy.