Author's Note: Well, this is my first fic that I'm actually posting on here so yay! This is my own alternate ending to the episode 8x22, "Clip Show", because I think Dean and Cas should've tried to makeup before it was over.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, although I wish I did.
Dean Winchester was done. Done with Heaven and Hell, with angels and demons- with all of it. Because of those stupid bastards, he had to see his own brother struggle through a set of trials that he may not even end up completing. For the past few weeks, Dean could only look at the bags under his eyes, a frown permanently etched on his face as he stumbled along, desperately searching for ways to reassure Dean that he was alright.
The last few months had been a living hell for Dean. Every time he looked at Sam, one thought continuously haunted him: He could've been the one doing the trials instead of Sam. It was such an ugly, glaring truth, and his brother's visible misery just intensified the guilt and pain.
Then there was Sarah. Sarah Blake, one of the few women that Sam had had a real chance with- and Crowley had killed her. Her death had upset him, sure, but it had completely devastated Sam. In fact, Dean had walked by his room that evening, stopped in his tracks by the sound of wracking sobs coming from within. That had been the final straw.
Before he even realized what he was doing, he was leaving the bunker, shoving open the door and storming out into the night. Thick sheets of rain fell from the sky, condensing into small droplets on his jacket and pooling on the road in deep, stagnant puddles. A crack of thunder split through the air, filling Dean's ears with it's intimidating rumble.
He lifted his gaze to the sky, raindrops falling lightly on his face. Closing his eyes, he sighed as the droplets brushed against his skin. It was the closest thing to peace that he knew he would experience, and even though it would never be enough, it was enough for now.
"Hello Dean," a familiar, rasping voice suddenly whispered out of thin air. Dean started at the sound, and immediately turned, coming face to face with the sad, concerned face of none other than Castiel.
"You son of a bitch," Dean growled, lips twisting into an angry scowl, "I thought I told you I didn't want your help anymore."
Cas winced at the hunter's harsh tone and averted his gaze. "I suppose you did," he replied, still unwilling to look into Dean's eyes as he spoke.
Several seconds passed, another roll of thunder sounding off in the distance. Dean wanted nothing more than to scream at the angel, to shove him onto the ground, to make him feel all of the insufferable pain he had been experiencing. But deep down, he knew he never would- no, scratch that. He never could.
"So," he sighed, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "why the hell are you here, huh? Are you gonna give me more lame-ass excuses for why you didn't fill me in about your fucking heavenly agenda?"
Cas remained silent, eyes now focusing intently on the puddle beginning to pool at his feet. He looked so defenseless and vulnerable, perfectly exhibiting the reasons why Dean referred to him as a baby in a trench coat. As Dean scanned the angel's troubled features, he began to consider how easy it would be for him to just take one or two steps closer and gather him into his-
Goddammit, Dean, stop it. That little prick with wings has lied to you way too many times for you to just forgive him, the hunter's conscience harshly pointed out.
"Seriously, Cas, what the hell do you want? If you haven't noticed, I came out here to get away from all the bullshit in my life, not have some deceitful dick show up and greet me with a whole lot of crap I don't wanna deal with- ever."
"I- I did all of it to keep you safe, Dean, you must-
"I don't wanna hear it!" Dean snapped, finding it harder and harder to control his urge to lash out at the angel. His hands balled up into fists at his side, ready to strike out at any moment. Anger bubbled up inside of him, a dull ache inside of his chest driving him. He didn't want to really dwell on it but dammit, it hurt.
"Fuck, Cas, why didn't you just come and tell me what was going on? Naomi, the angel tablet- you know I would've listened! I could've at least tried to help! But no, I had to hear the whole thing from that manipulative little bitch."
Cas listened to Dean's outburst in silence, pain contorting his face. As he watched, a tear slid slowly down the angel's cheek. He couldn't help but cringe at the sight, a gut-wrenching feeling building up in his chest.
"I didn't believe a word out of her damn mouth, you know," he confessed, subconsciously adopting a gentler tone, "there was one thing she said that I wasn't sure about, though."
Cas's head shot up, eyes full of blatant curiosity and anticipation. He tilted his head to the side, waiting anxiously for the hunter to continue.
"She said… that you weren't as loyal to me as I was to you," Dean whispered, "I-I didn't know what to think but- is it true?'
A soft whimper escaped from Cas's lips, another tear slipping out and falling to the pavement. "Dean-
"I just need to know," Dean quickly interjected, cutting the distressed angel off, "I-I need to know if- shit- I just-
"Stop," Cas commanded, voice only wavering slightly, "I know that you are upset with my actions, Dean, but I believe I have the right to explain myself."
Dean wanted nothing more than to tell the angel that it most certainly was not alright, to tell him to kiss his ass. He was so used to avoiding… intimate conversations like this, escaping from important matters that were just too "chick-flicky" to discuss. In typical Dean fashion, he would tear the person apart with his words in whatever way he could. But not this time- this time was different. He wasn't quite sure why, but there was something he needed to hear the angel say. And, honestly? It scared the fuck out of him.
"You are right, Naomi was lying to you," Cas replied, taking a step closer to Dean while he spoke, "I am completely loyal to you, Dean, you know that. I rebelled against Heaven for you- I killed my own brothers and sisters to keep you safe. I have always returned to you, no matter what consequences and punishments I must face. Dean… you are the only person I would ever do all of that for."
Dean felt a strange stirring in his chest at the angel's confession, his mind frantically trying to make heads and tails of what it all meant.
"Cas," he whispered, "what are you trying to say?"
The angel chose not to respond, closing the distance between he and Dean instead. Dean felt his breath catch in his throat, the sound of his blood pounding through his veins almost deafening now. Cas's startlingly blue eyes were overwhelming at this proximity, seeming to pull Dean in.
The rain continued to fall around them, the faint sound of the droplets hitting the pavement filling the air. As Dean stared down at the open, hopeful face of his angel, he watched the clear beads collect in his thick eyelashes. He suddenly felt the urge to taste Cas's full, pink lips, the light, tickling feeling of wet eyelashes against his skin as the angel sighed contentedly into his mouth. Dean's lips parted slightly, letting out a little gasp due to the tantalizing and vivid mental image.
"Dean," Cas breathed, raising his hand to rest on the side of the hunter's face, a gesture reminiscent of the way he had healed the hunter in Lucifer's Crypt. Dean leaned into the touch, desperately craving the warmth and comfort.
The corners of the angel's lips turned up into a genuine smile, satisfied with Dean's reaction to the contact. He sighed before gently murmuring the words that would change everything.
"I need you, too."