Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dean woke up slowly; the gradual realization that he was warm and relaxed and fully rested bringing him some confusion until he felt strong arms tighten around him. Cas, he thought, remembering how the two of them had fallen asleep together, or rather he had slept and the angel had held him close, all night long. He leaned his head back against Cas’ chest and listened to the soft beating of the angel’s heart. They didn’t speak, they just let the silence wrap over them like a warm blanket, and Dean was happy. The minutes ticked by, and Dean was quiet. He placed his hand on top of Cas’ where the angel held him. Sam could be heard humming to himself as he walked through the hallway. Cas was quiet as he pressed a soft kiss into Dean’s hair. The sounds of the bunker were muffled by the concrete walls, and the two men allowed the silence of their room to pierce their souls. Dean felt a peace that he hadn’t felt since Purgatory, and the irony of that thought left a smile on his face.

They stayed like that until Dean couldn’t ignore his bladder any longer. He sat up with a groan and rubbed his eyes before stretching. He tried to suppress a shiver when he felt Cas’ hand rest on the small of his back. As he stood up and walked towards the bathroom, Dean took hold of Cas’ hand and held it for the few short moments they were in reach. After he was done, Dean stayed in the bathroom and stared at his face in the mirror. He usually avoided this, since he mostly saw ghosts of his own guilt, but today all he could see was his scarred face. He didn’t look exhausted like he usually did, even after a night of sleep, and he smiled as he realized that Cas had kept his promise and watched over him; even going so far as to ward his dreams.

Dean walked back into his room and saw his angel sitting up and contemplating his shoes, which were in his hand, as if he was weighing the merits of putting them on or not. Dean let out an amused chuckle and dug some clothes out his dresser. As he was about to put a clean shirt on, he felt Cas wrap his arms around Dean’s waist. Leaning back into the embrace, Dean closed his eyes and let the angel’s warmth seep back into his skin.

“Cas?” He said softly.

“Hmm?” The angel’s voice rumbled against Dean’s neck, and it was quickly followed by a press of lips to Dean’s skin.

Dean sighed in pleasure and relaxed even more, letting Cas take most of his weight.

“This is nice.”

Sam was walking past Dean’s room on his way to the library, and he chuckled at the sound of soft voices from behind the door. It’s about damn time, he thought. If I had to sit through them staring at each other without resolution one more time... He smiled to himself again and continued on. He was trying to find everything that the Men of Letters had on fairies, in particular why they would need a fallen angel’s grace. Claire had been very clear that the fairies had mentioned that the grace had to come from a fallen angel. Sam thought back several years to remember what the angel Hester had said when she had tried to kill Cas.

“ When Castiel first laid a hand on you he was lost… You have fallen in every way. ”

Sam wondered if Cas’ and Dean’s “profound bond” had something to do with the other angel’s declaration of Cas’ fallen status. He remembered that Lucifer had told him that he had been banished from heaven due to loving God too much. And that got Sam thinking about what love does to angels, who were only made to protect humanity, not to love.

Along with all the volumes on fairies that the Men of Letters had in the bunker, Sam started pulling out the volumes on angel grace the library held. He needed to see if he could discover any difference between regular angelic grace and fallen angelic grace. As he was stacking books on the table, Dean and Cas walked past him on their way to the kitchen. Cas was in his traditional suit, but he was not wearing his signature trench coat and he was barefoot. The odd sight of a bare foot angel caused Sam to not notice Cas’ hand resting on Dean’s lower back at first, but once he saw it he smiled at Dean, who ducked his head slightly and blushed. Sam’s smile turned into a grin as Dean grabbed Cas’ hand and pulled him into the kitchen and away from Sam. Teasing him is going to be so much fun now, Sam thought, and turned back to his research.

Before he had taken down anymore books, there was the sound of breaking glass followed by a muffled curse from Dean in the kitchen. Sam hurried towards the kitchen only to stop short at the door. Cas was holding Dean’s hand in his own, and Sam could just make out the blue glow of grace that Cas was shining down on it. Dean was using his foot to sweep the remains of a mug away from Cas’ bare feet. They didn’t see Sam in the doorway, and as he listened to their soft voices, he ducked out of sight, not wanting to intrude.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt? Dean, I could have healed this before we left Sherriff Mill’s house.”

“I forgot about it Cas. It’s from when I hurt… when I had to burn the brand off of Claire, Cas, and it didn’t matter that I got burned as well at the time, you were being killed. Afterwards I forgot about it because of us. I mean, come on, Cas, you and me? I couldn’t think, let alone feel pain.”

At Cas’ whispered “Dean” and the soft sounds of kissing, Sam went back to his books, happy that Dean had finally allowed himself to be loved.

Chapter Text

Sam had been researching for a while when Dean placed a plate full of food in front of him saying,

“Eat up, Sammy! You’re a growing boy.”

Sam, after muttering that he was taller than Dean, bit into the giant sandwich his brother had made, and moaned his appreciation. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was, and when he glanced at his watch he was startled to realize that several hours had passed since he had started researching. Dean sat down at the table with his own sandwich, and Cas sat down next to the hunter after passing out beers.

“So whatcha up to, Sam? Did you find us a new case already?”

Dean spoke around the food in his mouth, and Sam did his best to ignore it before he responded.

“Umm, yeah. Your case, Cas.”

Dean put his sandwich down and stared across the table, not looking at anyone. Sam saw Dean clench his hands into fists where they rested on the table, and then relax them the moment Cas touched his arm.

“Dean,” Cas began, and Dean canted his head towards the angel’s voice.

“Dean, Sam is right, this is a case. We need to research why the fairies wanted angel grace, and we need to make sure they don’t try this again.”

“Um, Cas?” Sam’s hesitancy caused both Dean and Cas to look at him.

“Cas, the fairies don’t need angel grace, Claire said they need a fallen angel’s grace, and…”

Sam was forced to stop speaking as Dean spun around to look at Cas, shock on his face, his hand reaching for the angel’s face.

“You fell? But I thought that when angel’s fell they lose their grace like Anna did.”

Cas gave Dean a smile that was tinged with sadness before he lowered his head and spoke towards the table, carefully displacing Dean’s hand as he did so.

“I was cast out of Heaven by Metatron, but I truly have fallen in every way. The angels do not recognize me as a brother, and even though I still call myself an angel of the Lord, I know it is not the truth. I have been killed, again and again, I have been human, and I have been god. My vessel is no longer a host for my celestial nature, this is my body, and not another’s. I have emotions and doubts and opinions that are not given to me by Heaven. As Metatron once told me, I have fallen in love with humanity… I became too close to those in my charge, Dean, to you.”

Cas raised his face to look at Dean, and Sam felt like he was infringing on a personal moment between the two. Dean’s face was drawn and his jaw was clenched, and Cas looked… peaceful. Sam lowered his gaze and waited.

“Dean,” Cas whispered. “Why do you think my wings are still broken even after Heaven’s restoration?”

Dean stood up so quickly that his chair was knocked backwards. He rested his hands on the table and neither spoke nor looked at the other two men. Sam saw Cas move his hand towards Dean, but Dean punched the table hard enough to make the lunch plates jump and then strode out of the room. Cas looked at Sam, and Sam sighed at the confusion on the angel’s face.

“Sam? What did I say?”

Sam stacked up his books and picked up the two plates and gestured for Cas to follow him as he walked into the kitchen. Cas’ bare feet made no sound as they walked on the concrete floor. Sam didn’t speak as he wrapped up the leftover sandwiches and put them in the fridge, he waited until after he had washed the plates clean before turning to look at the fallen angel.

“Cas, you know how Dean thinks everything is basically his fault? That he is responsible for the entire world?”

Sam waited for Cas to acknowledge him, and the angel slowly nodded, paying close attention to the young hunter.

“Well, you pretty much told him that he is the reason you fell. Now, don’t get me wrong, Cas, the information you gave us is great and we will use it, and I’m pretty sure that your current status as a… fallen angel I guess, I’m pretty sure that you made your choice about it, and that’s good. Free will and all.”

Cas nodded again, and Sam kept speaking.

“Cas, do you care for my brother?”

The angel gave Sam a sharp look before answering.

“I love him.”

The simple answer was said with such force that Sam changed how he was going to respond.

“OK. OK good. Well then, you need to go make Dean understand that he shouldn’t feel guilty about you falling.”

The angel gave him a curt nod before silently striding out of the kitchen towards Dean’s room. Sam shook his head and grinned as he hoped that couples counseling was not going to be his main job in the upcoming months, before he returned to his research.

Chapter Text

Castiel followed the sounds of gunfire until he found Dean. The hunter was shooting in the bunker’s firing range until he ran out of bullets, and then reloading and starting the process over. Castiel waited until Dean had finished firing his current round of bullets before coming up behind him and taking the empty clip from Dean’s hand. Slowly and without saying anything, Castiel reloaded the clip and handed it back to the hunter, who fired them with a casualness that belied the tension Castiel could feel running through Dean. Castiel continued to load the clips and Dean kept firing until there were no rounds left.

After the last round was spent, Castiel watched as Dean carefully set down the gun and turned to face him. Castiel saw that Dean was about to say something, but he needed to make Dean understand everything first, so he began to speak before Dean opened his mouth.

“Dean, what is the definition of “fault”?

“What?” Dean’s look of confusion at the unexpected question made Castiel smile briefly.

“Fault. Noun: responsibility for an accident or mistake. Verb: to criticize for inadequacy or mistakes,” Castiel stepped a little closer to the hunter before continuing. “You believe you are at fault for my status as a fallen angel.”

“Well aren’t I?” Dean huffed out and then lowered his gaze away from the angel.

“Cas, you said it. You said that you rebelled for me, that everything you did you did because of me. How am I not at fault? I practically got you kicked out of heaven and hated by your douchey siblings upstairs. How is this not my fault?”

Castiel canted his head until he caught the hunter’s eyes, then he smiled and touched Dean’s clenched fist with the tips of his fingers.

“Dean you know that I chose this, right? This is not a mistake, nor is it an accident, so how could anyone be at fault?”

Dean didn’t respond, but he did loosen his fist and turn his hand so that Castiel’s fingers could find their way between his.

“So yes, Dean,” resumed Castiel. “I rebelled for you, my choice, not your fault. I did everything for you, of my own free will. I have never once regretted losing my ‘douchey siblings’ and gaining you.”

Dean let out a shuddering sigh and softly asked,

“Why me? You are an angel: glorious purpose, Heaven’s warrior and all that, and I’m just human. I’ve lied, cheated, killed, stolen things - hell, even your dad said that I’m unclean. ‘I’ve been tainted’ or something by the Mark and the Darkness. Why would you choose me?”

Castiel caught his breath at the barely repressed agony in Dean’s voice, and he reached his hand up to Dean’s cheek and pulled their foreheads together before answering.

“Oh Dean, en aziazor! How could I not?” Castiel squeezed their joined hands tightly as he spoke. “I have lived for ages untold, seen the birth and death of stars, witnessed life unfold on this planet, and nothing in my existence could have prepared me for the beauty of your soul as I saw it in Hell. I may have scarred your shoulder when I pulled you out and rebuilt you, but your soul marked me in return. You taught me to think, to feel, to laugh, and to love. Dean, the very fact that I can and do love you is because I have fallen. I have given everything for you, but so you have as well for me. I have done horrible things and still you are there beside me. You may be tainted by the remnants of the Darkness, but I am tainted from falling. We seem to be made for each other.”

Dean surged forward and pressed his lips to Castiel’s, and Castiel wrapped his arms around the man, pushing him against the nearby wall. Their first kiss had been born of desperation, the next of peace. This kiss tasted of desire and need, hunger and lust, and there was no containing it.

Afterwards, when Dean had finally come down from the high that was sex with Cas, he realized he had missed something.

“Cas?”

“Yes?” Cas’ voice was a soft murmur that shook Dean deep inside.

“What did you call me? En Azzor something?”

Cas’ resulting laugh rumbled around the room and Dean felt a shiver run up his spine as the sound touched him.

“Its Enochian, Dean, en aziazor. It means ‘My Love’.”

“Oh” Dean grinned. “My love, I like that.”

They began to walk back to the library when Cas stopped Dean with a touch of his hand.

“Dean,” said the angel, “you need to remember something before you decide to feel guilty over my falling again.”

Dean’s smile slipped and his shoulders tensed as he waiting for Cas to finish.

“I am yours, Dean, I’ve told you this already. And Dean, you are mine. I am not losing you to doubts, alright en aziazor?”

Dean nodded, unable to speak, and took hold of the angel’s hand in a tight grip.

“I need you too much to lose you, Dean,” whispered Cas. Dean leaned into the hand Cas placed on his cheek, needing the contact.

“I need you too, Cas. En aziazor.”