Chapter Text
And I'd give up forever to touch you.
"Damn it, Cas." Dean took a swig of his beer, lying in bed and staring at the bloodied trenchcoat sitting on the bedside table. "You never listen to me, you never listen, don't you?" He toyed with the bottle in his hand, balancing both ends of the bottle with equal amounts of the remaining beer. "I need you, man."
Dean fell asleep, his position halfway between lying down and sitting up, a bottle of beer tight in his grasp. Sam entered the room around half an hour later, knowing Dean wouldn't like his presence there at that moment. He hated showing Sam he was vulnerable, and Sam knew and understood that. Dean just lost Cas— he didn't expect Dean to be on his feet for a while. He walked closer to his drunken, sleeping brother and gently pulled the beer out of his hand, lying him down properly on the bed. He pulled the blanket over his brother's body, sad eyes scanning Dean's face. He tried to stop Cas, too, but none of their efforts seemed to matter until the very last second.
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow.
Sam knew how much Dean related to Cas— a neglected son, fighting against destiny, failing so many times that he thinks everything is his fault. It isn't much of a surprise; Dean taught Cas, after all. Cas, who used to be so stoic and obedient, merely a soldier of an unknown command, fought against Heaven itself and tried becoming God. Sam knows Dean made mistakes in his past, and he still blames himself for it. He thinks that Cas doesn't stray too much from the same feeling— that is, if Cas were still alive.
You're the closest to Heaven that I'll ever be.
Dean wasn't a religious man, and that wasn't ever going to be a question. He never believed in God, or angels. He only believed in the fear and horror that he knew existed under the bed or inside the closet. He didn't believe much in hope, or change, always allowing himself to be directly under orders of the circumstances. Cas, though— Cas changed everything. He didn't believe in angels, but he believed in one of them. He knew how Dean might be utterly hopeless during the time that Michael asked him to be his vessel. Sam knew Dean more than Dean knew himself, and it was such a surprise to find Dean fighting the inevitable. Dean would give up on everything except one thing, and that isn't himself.
And I don't want to go home right now.
As dreams flew by Dean’s head, it suddenly stayed at one memory. That one night at the bar, before Cas decided to confront Raphael. He felt happy, genuinely happy, for the first time in a long while. He wished to stay in that moment together, to just have fun and let go, where the only problem was getting Cas laid. Everything had weighed down on his shoulders, and that moment with Cas... he felt as if that weight vaporized into thin air.