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“Hey ... buddy,” Lucifer drawled.
“Shut up, I need to talk to you.” Dean could not believe he was doing this, that he was stooping this low to ask Lucifer for, well, anything.
Chuck and Sam were in the storeroom looking through old Men of Letters files, leaving Lucifer and Dean in the library with a big pile of probably useless books.
“You know Dean, last time you asked to ‘talk’ to me, you trapped me in holy fire and tried to kick me out of my vessel.” He stepped to the side, keeping the table between them.
Dean held up his hands defensively. “Well, you’re the dick who’s possessing my best friend, you can’t blame me for tryin’.”
Lucifer smirked. “‘Best friend’, realllllly, Dean, is that the best you can do?”
“I... what... Shut up.” Dean took a breath. “Look, I know you hate me, but you've settled for this truce with your dad, so you know I’m not gonna try to hurt you.” Dean took another breath. Time to just go for it. “Can I talk to him?”
Lucifer looked surprised. “I don’t really think he wants to talk to you, Dean," his tone was flat out condescending, "I mean, you’ve kinda hurt his feelings, a lot, and he’s happy tucked away in his mind.” Lucifer took a step closer, but Dean held his ground. “He did invite me in, and he did ignore you when you tried to kick me out. It might be time to take the hint.”
Dean kept his face expressionless.
Lucifer stepped around the table, and got closer than Dean wanted. His leering smile on Cas’s face was a distorted parody that made Dean’s skin crawl.
“If you like,” Lucifer half sat on the table edge, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable he was making Dean, “I could always pretend to be Cas.” His voice changed abruptly, “Would that help, Dean? Is that what you want?” he asked in Cas’s signature gravelly tone.
“Stop it.” Dean closed his eyes for a moment. He hadn’t really expected Lucifer to cooperate, but this was just cruel. It is the Devil you’re talking to, he reminded himself.
Lucifer was silent, biting his lower lip and waiting.
Dean took a deep breath. He looked straight into those damned blue eyes. “Please.”
“What’s that?”
“Please, Lucifer. I’m not going to tell him to kick you out, I’m not trying to pick a fight. I just want to know that he’s ok. You can listen to the whole thing, the second I say something you don’t like, pull the plug. Please, just let me talk to him.”
Lucifer seemed genuinely surprised. “I never thought of you as someone who begs, Dean, but I am finding this very entertaining. So ok, I’ll give you your five minutes.”
Lucifer’s body -- no, Cas’s body -- shook momentarily, and his eyes rolled back. Dean stepped forward, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Cas?”
Castiel opened his eyes, looking around in confusion. His gaze finally settled on the hunter. “Dean?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Listen, Cas, we don’t have a lot of time --”
“What did you do?” Castiel asked. He swayed slightly, and Dean caught him and helped him into the nearest chair. He knelt down in front of Cas.
“I asked Lucifer to let me talk to you. It doesn’t matter. Listen, Cas, talk to me, are you ok?”
Castiel shrugged. “I guess so.”
“He hasn’t hurt you?”
Castiel wouldn’t look directly at Dean, his gaze dancing around Dean’s head but never settling. “He wasn’t exactly thrilled when I stopped him from killing Sam, but he’s mostly just left me alone. Tucked me away in my own idea of ... well, of home... of the bunker.”
Home. Cas had referred to the bunker as home. Dean could work with that.
“Cas, look, I don’t care why you did it. I don’t care why you let Lucifer take control of you. I don’t care. I just ... I need you here.”
Castiel sighed. “Of course. You need me here, you must have a job that you can’t handle, or an apocalypse to stop.” His voice grew stronger, and he stood up, pushing Dean away from him, his movements sure and coordinated. “You don’t want me here, Dean, you need my help. You told me once that I was just a hammer, a tool that my Father used; but you used me no differently. I wanted to be helpful. I wanted to stop the Darkness. So I let Lucifer have my vessel. It was my choice. You certainly didn’t care before, so why should you now?.”
Dean could feel tears welling up in his eyes. Everything Castiel had said was true, and he knew it. He had known it for a long time, and he had been denying the role he had played in Cas's depressed self-destruction.
“Cas,” Dean stood up slowly, “I... I’m sorry.”
Castiel glared at him. His eyes blazed with an ancient power, and Dean was reminded of the fierce-warrior-Castiel he had met that night in the barn seven years ago.
“I am so sorry, Cas. I never ... You’re right. I didn’t do it right. I’m sorry. But I can’t lose you man, I can’t. Give me chance, that’s all I’m asking, just give me a chance to fix it.”
“How?”
Dean ignored the silent tears rolling down his cheeks. “Come back. When this is all over. Please, just promise me that. I told Lucifer I wouldn’t try to convince you to kick him out, and if you choose to house him, fine. That’s not my choice. I hate it, I fuckin’ hate it man, but your choice. But please, Cas, please just come back. You’re not ... You deserve better than how we’ve treated you. We were idiots...I was an idiot. Give me another chance.”
“Why?”
Dean reached up to wipe the tears from his eyes, taking a shallow breath. It was all or nothing now. He had to convince Cas that he meant it. He reached forward, tentatively taking Cas’s hands in his own. “Cas, I’ll make it right. Just come back.”
“Dean...”
Dean closed the space between them. He looked into Cas’s eyes, his heart racing. “Castiel, please. Please come back to me.”
Tentatively Dean leaned forward, touching his forehead to Castiel's.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I made you feel expendable. I’m sorry that I used you. I’m sorry I never told you how much I want you here. Believe me Cas, I tried to say it in the only ways I knew how, but I’m sorry I wasn’t more clear why I need you.” Dean’s voice wavered. “I love you, and I just want you to come home in one piece. Please, Cas, just come home to me.”
Their lips met, and Dean breathed into the kiss. Cas’s hands reached up, wrapping one around his waist and the other grasping his neck. The kiss deepened, and Dean felt like his whole body was on fire.
Regretting it even as he did it, Dean pulled back slightly. “Promise me, Cas.”
“Yes,” Cas breathed, wrapping his arms around Dean and pulling him into very tight hug.
Dean held onto him, unwilling for this moment to end.
“Ahhhh, you two are having such a cute moment.”
Dean felt his blood freeze. That was not Cas’s voice. Dean pushed himself back from Lucifer.
“So Dean, should we talk about your intentions with my brother?”
“You son of a bitch,” Dean muttered. “Was any of that even --?”
“Real? Of course, you don’t think I’d voluntarily kiss you, do you? Now, what do you have to say for yourself?”
Dean fought the urge to throw up, instead choking out “Thank you” before fleeing the room. Lucifer laughed, watching him go.
Castiel was alive. He was safe. And he had promised to come home. Nothing else mattered.