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Cas lay slumped against the headrest of his bed in the bunker. He stared blankly at the tenth episode of Jenny Jones playing on his room’s TV. On one hand, he was happy to be here, amongst the two people he had come to rely on and care for deeply - but on the other hand, he had been coming to loathe it.
Cas rubbed his face and scooted down to rest more fully against his pillow. Dean and Sam had been the center of his world since he pulled Dean out of hell seven years previously. It was astounding, he thought. He was a being that had been around for many millennia, and after a mere seven years, he couldn’t imagine his life being what it formerly was. Too much had changed; too much of him had changed.
He had been cleansed of Rowena’s spell, but he couldn’t help the feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness that loomed over his every action like twin rainclouds. Cas was ashamed. He was ashamed of being made into Rowena’s attack dog, ashamed of being controlled by Naomi, ashamed of the mountain of atrocities he had committed over the years in the name of what he had thought was right. It seemed like the last few years of his life had been nothing but one mistake after another.
There was a singular thing that kept Cas from leaving his small corner of the bunker: he couldn’t bring himself to regret helping the Winchesters. From the moment he sensed Dean’s soul in hell, he knew that this man was every bit the Righteous Man he was reputed to be. Dean didn’t always do the right thing, but in spite of everything, he tried until he broke over and over again; he would rather himself be subjected to agony and torture and destruction than to allow those he protected to come to harm.
Cas knew that helping this bright soul was the right thing to do. He just wished he knew whether he would be more help staying in the bunker in case the Winchesters needed him, or leaving and removing the burden of his presence from their minds.
He had been debating this to himself for days. His thoughts had consistently reached a stalemate, until recently. He knew if he left, that any angels he met would be after his head. But he also knew that if he didn’t leave, he would be a liability in the fight against the Darkness. Not only was Amara more powerful than anything they had encountered previously, but Cas knew she didn’t currently appear to want to hurt either Winchester due to her…connection…with Dean. She would not only see Cas as a potential complication, but likely wouldn’t be happy about his own bond with Dean.
And right there was the other problem, the one that tipped the scales in Cas’ little dilemma. After all that had happened after the years, he could no longer deny that he did not just feel friendship and loyalty for Dean. It had taken him a while to realize what exactly these emotions were, but it became clear to him after his brief almost-dalliance with Hannah that his feelings for the hunter were deeper than those he had felt for any other being. After living among humans for a few short years, he had begun to feel more than he had been previously able in the service of heaven.
Cas sat up straighter in his bed, swinging his legs around to the side. He switched the TV off, stood up…and stopped. It pained him to think about what he was about to do. Dean had been let down and left by everyone in his life, including Castiel. He didn’t deserve to go through it again. Yet, Cas knew it was the best course of action; he knew he would never fully let go, but if he didn’t leave, he would be putting Dean in more danger. He was a walking disaster. A liability. A “child,” as Dean himself had put it so eloquently.
Cas looked around his room for the last time. He felt a certain fondness for it; it was the only place he had ever felt was his own. The angel scoffed at himself. It had never been his, but it had been a comforting thought. He had accumulated only a few belongings that remained with him, and he figured the two Winchesters could use what he was leaving behind: a worn flannel for when his suit was deemed “inappropriate” for wherever they were going, a large scarf from when he was human, and his old trenchcoat.
Cas walked toward the door and felt glad that it was 3:00 in the morning; no one would be up. If he had left any sooner or later he might encounter one of the brothers and his resolve might waiver. He paused at the entrance to his room, turned around, and grabbed his trenchcoat. He wrapped the comforting weight around his frame and felt disgust that he had become so weak he was sentimentally attached to a piece of clothing.
Castiel, Angel of the Lord, who was well on the way to falling…again…let out a sigh and straightened his back.
He walked to the kitchen and grabbed a spare slip of paper from the ever-present sprawling pile of Sam’s research. He would leave, but he wouldn’t leave without an indication he was safe. He didn’t need the brothers chasing after him and endangering themselves. Again.
“Dean and Sam,
I am leaving the bunker. You have both done more for me than I deserve, but I no longer wish to be a burden.
I wish you both the best. I’m sorry.
Castiel”
Cas was putting his perfunctory note on the refrigerator when he heard the soft rustle of feet shuffling on the floor behind him.
He sighed and turned around, “Hello Dean.”
"Hey Cas. I knew that trenchcoat wouldn’t stay away forever. What are you doing out here?”
“I do not sleep, Dean. You know this. I apologize if I woke you.”
"Yeah, Cas. But you’ve been in your room watching Netflix for weeks now, it’s been a while since we’ve seen you among the living. And you didn’t wake me, I just got up to get some water.” Dean shifted his feet and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
Before Dean could fully focus his eyes in the bright light of the kitchen, Cas quickly shuffled to the side, covering up his note on the fridge. He had to make sure Dean didn’t notice the telltale scrap of paper before he went back to bed.
Unfortunately, years of attention to detail as a hunter and a working knowledge of Cas’ usually unflinching posture drew Dean’s eyes directly to the fridge.
“Cas, what is that on the fridge behind you?”
Cas swallowed. He knew there wasn’t a high likelihood this night would go as he had planned, but he had to try. He didn’t want to see the look on Dean’s face when he read Cas’ intended final words.
Cas pulled the note off the fridge and began to fold it. He said the first thought that came to mind. “I was going to town to get a new remote for my television. Mine is no longer operational. I felt it was redundant to leave the note when I am currently able to deliver the message in person.”
Dean seemed to accept this. “Okay Cas.” He started toward the cupboard for a water glass when he paused. “Wait. Let me see that note.”
Cas’ heart plummeted. “Dean, that is unnecessary. I’ve told you the contents.”
“Yeah well, I don’t believe you. I know you could fly halfway across the world to a shop in China for whatever you need, but that still doesn’t explain the timing or your unwillingness to let me see what you wrote. Let me see the damn note.”
“Dean.” Cas turned away, knowing Dean wasn’t going to give up.
“Cas. Look at me.” Dean’s eyes were hard and his jaw was set.
Cas looked back at him, resigned. He reached into his pocket, but before he could hand it over, Dean wrenched the note from his grasp and opened it. When he looked up, his gaze was no longer steely, but angry.
"Cas, what the hell is this? You’re just gonna fly away again? After everything?”
"You’ve read the note. I do not mean to make you upset.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Cas. And speaking of bullshit, you “don’t wanna be a burden”? You’re family. Family isn’t a damn burden! But, I guess, fuck me for thinking you’d stay. You’d think I’d be used to it.“
"Dean, I wasn’t leaving you, I -”
Dean snorted. “Then what the hell do you call it? Because it sure as hell looks like leaving to me.”
“Dean. The Darkness is too much of a threat and I’m too much of a liability. I’ve done nothing but endanger you and Sam from the beginning. I want to help and to be useful, but everything I try results in disastrous mistakes. After everything, the only way for me to help is to leave. You’ll be safer without me.”
Cas looked resigned and pitiful. He shuffled his feet.
“Dammit Cas! We’ve all make fucking mistakes! Gigantic, monstrous, world-class mistakes! The apocalypse, the mark, playing God - and you’re even making a mistake right now! How could you think that you leaving would be any help? The moment you step out of the bunker without backup you’re going to have every angel in existence on your ass.”
Cas sighed in exasperation. “Don’t you think I know that, Dean? That’s why I have to leave. I’m no use to you, I’ll only put you both in danger if I stay. You once told me that no one cares if I’m broken. I agree - but at this point I’m too broken to be of any use.”
“Cas, shut the fuck up with this pity party shit! You’re staying. I’ll find a way to lock you in the dungeon if I have to but we’re not doing this again.” Dean locked eyes with Cas, stance unwavering.
Cas started to step away from the fridge, but Dean stepped forward and shoved him back up against it, for once firmly lodging himself in Cas’ personal space. He never removed his eyes from the stubborn angel.
“Castiel.”
Cas flinched at the use of his full name. Dean hadn’t used it in years, since they first met.
"Castiel. You seem so concerned about keeping me safe and putting what you think I need before yourself, but did it occur to you that what I need is YOU? You stupid angelic ass.”
The angel couldn’t make himself move. Did Dean realize how close Cas was to ruining everything? Cas had spent years avoiding inappropriate feelings, and now the hunter was pressed up against him, telling him he needed him. However many times Dean might insult him, he knew Dean was saying he cared, underneath all the roughness of his manner. But how much exactly did he care?
“Dean. Personal space.”
A corner of Dean’s mouth tilted up slightly and his eyes took on a heat Castiel had only seen directed at the odd barfly or waitress after a few too many beers. “Damn straight.”
Dean leaned across the chasm they had both taken such care to keep so wide and pressed his lips to Castiel’s in a shockingly tender kiss. Cas gasped into Dean’s mouth in shock and grasped the hunter’s waist, inadvertently pulling him closer.
Dean growled and pushed impossibly closer to his angel, deepening the kiss and making both of their knees weak. He threaded his fingers into Cas’ hair, trying to memorize this moment, wondering if it was even real. He put everything he had into the kiss, making sure Cas felt all of his anger, his frustration, and his need. He needed Cas. He might not be very eloquent in situations like this, but hopefully Cas would understand.
Eventually Dean had to pull back slightly to breathe. “D-dean?” Cas stuttered breathlessly.
“Cas. Don’t leave. I need you here.” Dean repeated his earlier sentiment."
"I need you too Dean. I didn’t think we could - I didn’t think you would want this.”
"More than I should, Cas. So you’ll stay?”
"I’ll stay.”