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“I love you,” Castiel’s voice echoed in Dean's mind. “I love all of you.”
Over and over, Dean watched Castiel clutch the wound on his stomach as he fought to hold on to the life he'd rebelled for. Over and over, Dean watched them fail to save Castiel before he died for good in front of Dean's eyes.
“I love you,” Castiel said as his rattling, wet, final breath chased Dean out of the nightmare.
“Cas!” Dean woke up shouting and slick with sweat.
He fumbled for the light and blinked bleary eyed at his bedroom. Everything was exactly where he left it. Weapons and books on his shelves. The normalcy of it all was simultaneously soothing and grating. They’d nearly lost Castiel forever and if they had, Dean’s room would still be just as he’d left it.
Dean stared up at the ceiling until his eyes burned with the need to blink. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Castiel dying in front of him all over again. Dean’s throat felt knotted with helplessness and emotion.
A soft knock at his bedroom door broke through the silence.
“Dean?” Castiel called quietly from the other side of the door.
“Come in, Cas,” Dean said.
The door opened. Castiel stood there for a moment dressed in a pair of sweats and one of Dean’s old t-shirts. His hair stuck up in all directions like he’d been running his fingers through it. His eyes were red and heavy lidded. He looked exhausted and he held Dean’s bedroom door knob in a white-knuckle grip. He looked miserable and alive. Gloriously alive.
Dean felt the ghost of a smile tug at his mouth.
“Can’t sleep? Dean asked.
Castiel’s throat bobbed and he shook his head.
“Me either,” Dean said.
Castiel continued to stand in the doorway. His eyes flicked from Dean’s face, around Dean’s room and back again. Dean continued to watch him. Memorize the way he stood there whole and unharmed and alive.
“Want to not sleep together?” Dean asked. He winced at the phrasing and pulled down the blankets on the other side of the bed to make room for Castiel. “Come here.”
Castiel let out a shaky breath before released his white-knuckle grip on the door and letting it close behind him. He crossed the room and crawled into Dean’s bed. He avoided Dean’s watchful eyes as he pulled the blankets up to his chin and settled on his side facing Dean.
Dean rolled over to face Castiel once Castiel was settled in place. There seemed to be a chasm of space between them. Dean chose to ignore why that thought bothered him so much. Instead, he took advantage of the fact that Castiel’s eyes were screwed shut to stare at the angel.
Castiel looked even more exhausted and miserable up close.
One particular lock of Castiel’s hair stood up like a strange corkscrew spire at an angle from his head. Dean reached across the chasm before he realized he was going to do it and ran his fingers through Castiel’s hair in an attempt at taming the wild lock of hair.
Castiel hummed and seemed to lean into the touch.
Castiel’s hair was thick and had that slightly sticky texture to it from the girly hair goop Sam had gotten Castiel hooked on using months ago. The more Dean ran his fingers through Castiel’s hair, the more the hair goop seemed to break down and the more unruly Castiel’s hair got. Dean rolled his eyes and settled for resting his fingers in Castiel’s hair in a way that kept Dean from getting distracted by its wildness.
“I don’t know how you do it,” Castiel whispered in a voice so soft Dean almost couldn’t make out the words.
“Do what?” Dean asked.
Castiel finally opened his eyes. The piercing blue of them pinned Dean in place in a way no one else’s eyes seemed to be able to do. Dean stared back while he waited for Castiel to answer.
“I don’t understand how you and Sam can come so close to dying so often and just keep going like nothing happened.” Castiel’s brow furrowed. His eyes danced back and forth like he was trying to read the secrets Dean had written on his soul. “How do you do it?”
“Alcohol,” Dean joked. The words tasted bitter on his tongue. “Stubbornness. Denial.”
Castiel closed his eyes again.
Dean tightened his grip on Castiel’s hair.
“Hey, look at me,” Dean said. “Please.”
Castiel sighed and opened his eyes again. He looked somewhere in the vicinity of Dean’s chin, but at least Dean could see his eyes.
“The truth is, I don’t know how we do it, Cas,” Dean said. “Sam and I, we don’t handle a lot of things well. We make mistakes and we hurt each other and you and other people. We fight and, yeah, we nearly die, a lot. Hell, I’ve died so many times that I’ve stopped counting by now.”
Castiel flinched like he’d been struck.
Dean let go of Castiel’s hair. He cupped Castiel’s cheek and tilted Castiel’s face so Dean could meet his wandering eyes.
“You want to know why I keep going?” Dean asked.
Castiel nodded. Dean’s thumb brushed over Castiel’s cheekbone.
“Because of you and Sam and mom,” Dean said. “Because of the people we save and the people we…” Dean swallowed. “And the people we couldn’t save. The people we got killed. I owe it to all of you, to all of them to keep going. Sometimes I forget that or that answer stops working and I lose my way, but you and Sam. You guys are always there to help me find my way back.”
Castiel blinked at Dean with watery eyes. He shook his head and a ghost of his sad smile spread over his features.
“I know why you fight, Dean,” Castiel said. “I meant, I don’t know how you can keep getting so close to death without letting it break you. I sat up for hours in the shower then in the library just staring. Every time I close my eyes I taste my blood in my mouth. I see you and Sam and Mary standing there watching me die and getting yourselves killed in the process and I’m always helpless to stop it. I see myself failing over and over again.”
Dean nodded.
“Yeah, waking nightmares and second guessing every move you made that led to whatever new terrible thing that’s happened is normal. It's human,” Dean said. “This wasn’t your fault though. And you didn’t fail.”
“I almost got you all killed, again,” Castiel said. His eyes turned steely and Dean felt Castiel’s jaw tense beneath his palm. “I almost got you killed again.”
“Just another Tuesday in the life of Dean Winchester, am I right?” Dean said with a cheesy smile.
Castiel rolled his eyes.
“That’s not funny, Dean.”
“Okay, you’re not ready for gallows humor. Good to know,” Dean said.
Castiel huffed. If he was anyone other than an angel of the lord, Dean would have sworn Castiel had just called him an asshole under his breath.
They laid there in silence for a while. Dean’s eyelids got heavy and his breath began to slow. He continued to trace Castiel’s cheekbone with his thumb as his body relaxed into the memory foam.
“I really don’t like dying,” Castiel whispered.
And just like that Dean was wide awake again.
He stared at Castiel’s face. Took in the pinched, troubled wrinkle between his brows and the glassiness of his blue eyes. Dean’s chest ached.
Dean opened his arms and tugged at Castiel’s shoulder.
“C’mere, Cas,” Dean said as he tried to pull Castiel across the chasm.
Castiel hesitated for a moment. He laid there immovable like a marble statue of some ancient soldier. Dean was struck once again with the realization of just how old and universe weary Castiel really was. Guilt soured Dean’s stomach when he thought about how much trouble and pain he’d caused Castiel to suffer through over the years.
In the span of a heartbeat, Castiel morphed from an unmoving mass of angel to a human trying to burrow his face into Dean’s collarbone as his wild limbs wrapped around Dean’s body like a limpet.
Dean chuckled and tilted his head so that Castiel’s hair was no longer trying to climb into his mouth and nose. Dean wrapped one arm around Castiel’s upper back. The other he wrapped beneath Castiel’s head so his fingers could resume carding through Castiel’s hair.
The tension in Castiel’s body melted like butter once Dean settled.
Their legs were intertwined. Dean could almost feel Castiel’s heart beating against his chest. This was the closest he’d let anyone get to him in years. Anyone that wasn’t there for quick, meaningless sex anyway.
Dean raised his eyebrows and tilted his head trying to catch sight of Castiel’s face.
“Comfy?” Dean asked.
Castiel hummed and nodded against Dean’s collarbone.
Dean took a deep breath and tried to organize his thoughts into words. The ones he was willing to put into words anyway. Words he was willing to say out loud.
He cleared his throat.
“When Sam first started coming with dad and I on hunts, he had nightmares,” Dean said. Castiel’s movements stilled enough to let Dean know that he was listening. “We came up with a… I don’t know what you’d call it. A mantra, I guess. Just a few words I’d tell him when he woke up from those nightmares to help him calm down. Help him keep his head in the game.”
Dean licked his lips.
“I don’t know how much it actually helped him, but I thought… maybe…”
Castiel turned his head so his mouth was no longer pressed against Dean’s shirt.
“You thought something like that could help me with my nightmares,” Castiel said.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Dean said.
Castiel nodded. His unruly hair tickled Dean’s nose as he moved.
“I’d like that,” Castiel said.
Dean cleared his throat and took a steadying breath.
“Okay, um,” Dean said as he played with Castiel’s hair. “We can change this up later if you need to. Or whatever.”
“Okay,” Castiel said.
Dean tilted his head as best he could so he could speak the words somewhere between Castiel’s temple and his ear.
“You didn’t die today,” Dean said. “You’re safe. You’re home. And I’ve got you.”
Castiel made a noise in the back of his throat and turned his head against Dean’s collarbone once more. His body began to shake gently in Dean’s arms. Dean closed his eyes and swallowed hard.
“You’re safe, Cas,” Dean said again. “You’re home. And I’ve got you.”
Dean repeated the words several more times as the front of his shirt grew wet from Castiel’s tears.
“You’re safe. You’re home. I’ve got you.”
Dean alternated between carding his fingers through Castiel’s hair and massaging his scalp as he spoke. He repeated the words until his mouth began to dry and his voice turned hoarse. He repeated the words until Castiel’s breathing slowed and the shaking in his bones stopped.
“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said as his fingers clung to Dean’s back.
“Anytime,” Dean said.
Dean closed his eyes and pressed his nose and mouth into Castiel’s thick hair. He breathed in deeply, flooding his lungs with the comforting smell of Castiel. It was different now thanks to life in the bunker and his time spent as a human. Different from the smell that had soaked into the trench coat Dean had carried around dutifully when he’d thought Castiel was gone forever. Different from the smell that used to invade his lungs when he’d clutched at that dirty trench coat like a pillow on nights when it felt like his chest was going to crack open wide with grief.
The back of Dean’s throat burned.
He’s safe.
He’s home.
I’ve got him.
Those words echoed through his mind as Dean fell asleep with Castiel in his arms.
If he spent the time before succumbing to sleep committing every detail of their encounter from the time Castiel had knocked on the door to the moment Dean finally slept in hopes that it would be immortalized one day if Dean made it back to heaven, no one would need to know.
###
The next morning, Dean woke up with his face still buried in Castiel’s hair. His arms and legs still wrapped tightly around the mass of angel. Castiel’s breathing remained slow and thick with sleep.
Dean blinked and frowned as he struggled to figure out what had woken him.
“Have you seen Castiel this morn—,” Sam’s voice cut through the warm silence of Dean’s room from the now open bedroom door. “Ah, never mind.”
Dean turned his head enough to look at his brother. Sam’s mouth bobbed open and closed like a gasping fish for a moment before he pointed behind himself.
“I’m just gonna go…,” Sam said before he rushed out of Dean’s bedroom and shut the door softly behind himself.
Castiel grunted in his sleep and burrowed closer to Dean, as if that was even possible.
Dean closed his eyes and let himself press a ghosted kiss into Castiel’s hair as he drifted off to sleep again.
###
Not much changed after that. There were no more love confessions. No stolen kisses. They weren’t suddenly in a relationship.
At the same time, everything changed.
Sam got used to walking into rooms to find them clinging to each other and whispering.
Now, when they got lost or overwhelmed, they sought each other out like tree branches reaching for the sun.
When Dean got caught up in the library patting his pockets looking for his car keys and a chest compressing, tunnel vision panic attack at the memory of losing all of his memories brought him to a gasping standstill. It was Castiel who came rushing to his side. It was Castiel who pulled him into a tight hug and repeated the words you’re safe, you’re home, I’ve got you into Dean’s ear until his breath normalized and color returned to the world around them.
After another close call with a monster a few weeks later, it was Dean who clutched at Castiel’s cheeks and stared into his blue eyes in the rain while repeating the words you’re safe, we’re going home, I’ve got you until Castiel was able to ignore the blood stains on Dean’s shirt long enough to nod and get into the Impala.
It didn’t take long for the mantra to become a daily habit of theirs.
Dean would pull Castiel into a quick one armed hug while handing Castiel his morning coffee and whisper the words against the shell of Castiel’s ear. You’re safe, you’re home, I’ve got you.
Castiel would lean in and repeat the words against Dean’s cheek while Dean flipped through books from the library while researching the next monster of the week. You’re safe, you’re home, I’ve got you.
It wasn’t until they’d both nearly died in an especially nasty encounter that the mantra changed.
We’re safe. We’re going home. We’ve got each other.
From then, the mantra came with humid, heavy air that hung between them as they spoke. Air heavy with potential and nerves.
As whatever mess they’d gotten into inevitably got worse and worse, they repeated the words. We’re safe, we’re home, we’ve got each other. As secrets and betrayals came to light as they always do, no matter how well concealed they seemed to be, they repeated the words. We’re safe, we’re home, we’ve got each other. As the world burned beneath their feet and all hope seemed to disintegrate in front of their eyes, they repeated the words. We’re safe, we’re going home, we’ve got each other.
Once the dust settled into piles of heartache and mourning like they always seemed to do, Dean found himself standing against one of the tables in the bunker staring at the front door waiting for Castiel to come home. His stomach flipped and flopped and somersaulted in on itself while he waited, but he’d made up his mind. He wasn’t going to bitch out this time.
When Castiel came through the door he paused and tilted his head when he saw Dean standing there.
“C’mere, Cas,” Dean said. He opened his arms and motioned for the angel to come down the stairs.
Castiel did just that and wrapped his arms around Dean’s lower back as he moved in close. He gave Dean a gentle smile as they wrapped around each other.
“We’re safe, Dean,” Castiel said. “We’re home and we’ve got each other.”
Dean blinked at the burn in his eyes and nodded.
“We’re safe,” Dean said. “We’re home, we’ve got each other. And… I love you, Cas.”
Castiel froze.
His blue eyes widened as he stared back at Dean. He stared long enough that Dean began to fumble through his mind for a way to smooth over what he’d just admitted. A way to salvage what he’d inevitably just ruined.
Then Castiel closed the space between them and captured Dean’s mouth in a kiss that left them both breathless.
“You’re safe,” Castiel whispered against Dean’s mouth before pressing a light kiss to Dean’s lips. “You’re home.” Another light kiss. “I’ve got you.” And another. “And I love you, Dean Winchester,” Castiel said as he gave Dean another, deeper kiss.
Dean was smiling so much his cheeks ached and Castiel growled as it became harder to kiss each other properly.
“Fucking finally,” Sam’s said from somewhere behind them.
Castiel broke off their kiss, but before Dean could protest or respond to Sam, Castiel did it for him. Dean’s eyes widened as he realized Castiel was flipping Sam off.
“Shut up, Sam,” Castiel said.
Sam laughed and held up his hands.
Dean started laughing with him. Castiel closed his hand and turned back to Dean with narrowed eyes.
“What’s so funny?” Castiel asked.
Dean shook his head and cupped Castiel’s cheek.
“Nothing,” Dean said. His laughter calmed to a happy sigh as he took in Castiel’s disgruntled and confused expression. “I really fucking love you.”
They kissed again. Long, lingering and deep.
“Get a room,” Sam called out playfully as he walked back down the hallway to his own room.
It was Dean’s turn to flip his brother off and he managed to do it without breaking the kiss with his angel.