Sometimes, I'd ask Sam what it was like. He'd then proceed to tell me about the heartwrenching, gutting pain, and all that "Emotion" stuff.
But then I'd tell him that's not what I meant.
I meant failing.
Then he'd cry. I didn't like seeing him cry, so I stopped.
But I think I'm just starting to understand what he meant by all that emotion stuff.
Sometimes I forget how much I rely on Sam, what with his brains and all. Don't you DARE tell him I said this, But Dean can be not that high in intelligence sometimes. So sometimes he'll forget just how much I am capable of.
Or maybe he's right. Gabriel would always laugh at me for this-"Being too soft again, Cassie?" he'd say. I hated it when he called me Cassie. And I didn't want him to be right. But part of me feared he was. I hated seeing him like this. Not Gabriel, of course- Dean. It gave me chills just to look at him.
Besides, I knew Sam was right. About the innocent people and all. Though I never really understood that. I only understood Dean-what Dean wanted, and how to get it for him. How to make up with Dean. How to keep Dean happy. And most of all, how to keep Dean safe.
I thought about all the pies stored in the cupboards in the bunker-made in every flavor I could think of and some only Sam could think of, and my heart ached at the thought of him never getting to taste them-or even see them. Could an angel's heart (or even an Ex-Angel's heart) even ache? I didn't doubt it being the first time it had ever happened. But I knew well enough that I was different.
He was sitting directly in the center of the Devil's trap, Legs outstretched following two of the star points, hands back bridging the other two. His head was cocked, and somehow he Still was managing to pull off puppy eyes without having any pupils to do them with.
"Stop looking at me like that." I commanded him.
He put his head back and laughed. "Make me."
I crossed my arms and put on as best a stern face as I could. "Don't be like that. Your eyes are black, Dean, not red."
A faint smile creeped across his lips. it made me hurt, because it was the same smile he'd pull when he was about to make some witty remark. "You don't know what I've been up to. Me and Crowley have been getting off nicely. Go out for dinner every Friday."
See? I told you so.
"Still being witty, I see. You haven't really changed much."
I wanted to curse myself as soon as I said it. I wasn't making this any easier for myself.
"See?" he said. "Gabriel was right. you'll never be able to do this."
"You don't know that." I said, feeling wetness on my face. Curse humans.
"You're crying, Cas."
"Do you honestly want me to prove it?"
He looked at me and crossed his arms. "I dare you to."
I sat down next to him. Since this was likely to be the last time we spent together (at least, I kept telling myself that) I had to make it last. I reached into my coat and pulled out something I had been saving.
He looked at me in a confused manner. That could be good or bad. Either I was still one step ahead, or he was right.
"What is this?"
"Open it and see."
He glared at me, but slowly opened the box. I saw him break into a grin.
"Enjoy that pie, because it's the last slice you'll ever have."
The sound of the hurt in my voice was enough to make his eyes turn green again. But I knew it wouldn't last.
We talked as we ate, about Sam, about the future, about everything and anything. I forgot how good it felt to be with him.
"Look after Sammy for me, won't you?" He asked me, all the emotion back the way it should be.
"Don't worry, I-I will. Now we wait."
But then he did something that surprised me more than anything.
"Don't wait, Cas."
"What?"
"Please don't wait. It hurts enough to look at you." He was crying. Dean Winchester was crying, and I couldn't stand to see him cry. So I took my blade out of my sleeve, and everything went Black.
I'd sometimes ask Cas what it was like, late at night.
He'd look at me, and oddly enough, say the same things I had said to him. Sure in different words, but I was certain the feeling was the same. Odd, since only a day ago, he didn't even understand.
Then he'd start to cry. I didn't like to see him cry, so I'd stop.
