Castiel's wings say all the things he cannot. They reach across a distance and touch Dean, feathers lightly trailing down expanses of skin. It is a habitual thing, a thing Castiel started with the utmost caution and now does with all the normality of air being drawn into lungs and then drawn out. His wings break through Dean's self-proclaimed 'personal space' and touch him, whispering Castiel's love for him and all the words that Castiel, master of all languages that was, are, and will be, cannot string together; words that exist in no languages at all but are still meant from the deepest, darkest abscesses of Castiel's grace.
Castiel's wings say all the words Castiel wants to say, but at the same time they do not tell Dean anything at all. Dean cannot feel the gentle touch of feathers upon his arms. Dean cannot feel the curling of a wing around him when there is danger. Dean cannot hear the silent declarations of love whispered into his skin when Castiel is near. Though, for all his blindness to all of this, there are times when Castiel reaches his wings out and Dean flinches. It is a minute reaction, but Castiel watches Dean intently. He can see the small jitter that Dean himself doesn't notice, and he remembers their bond, and he wonders if Dean speaks to him silently too.
When Castiel falls, his wings, his shadowy whisperers of profound secrets, abandon him, and he is left with the full intensity of his feelings for Dean with no outlet. As he finds his way back to the Winchesters, Castiel sometimes talks. He talks to trees, he talks to animals, he talks to rivers, he talks to roads. He talks to anything that will not talk back. He talks to nothing. Sometimes he does not speak, he just makes inarticulate sounds that somehow express his feelings better than sounds that have actual meanings behind them.
When Castiel finally reaches the bunker, he doesn't know what to do.
He raises a shaky fist to the door of the bunker and knocks. The door is thrust open, and Castiel is met with a splash of holy water, a strong grip on his arm, and a silver dagger slicing a cut across it. The hand that had grabbed his arm does not let go. Castiel's eyes meet Dean's. Castiel does not have his wings to say all of the things that he wants to. All Castiel has now are tears that flow down his cheeks. Dean pulls him into a hug.
"Cas."
"Dean." Castiel is vaguely aware of Sam standing a few feet away from them, but he can't bring himself to care at all. He clutches at Dean like he's his life source, inhaling his scent and relishing in his warmth. Suddenly, Castiel cannot contain his love. He tries to make his wings wrap themselves around Dean, but they exist no longer. Castiel's heart begins to pour out of his mouth; he cannot stop it.
Castiel speaks of his love and his journey and how happy he is to be back with the Winchesters and of how his wings used to touch Dean whenever they could because Castiel himself couldn't. Castiel speaks of all of the moments where his love for Dean was so true it was blinding. Castiel speaks of how long he has prevented himself from telling Dean of his love. Castiel speaks.
There is a moment of stunned silence before Castiel sags against Dean and says, "I'm sorry."
This is the time where Castiel would fly away. Dean seems to be aware of this too because he's holding him so tightly that it hurts. Dean just says, "I can't lose you again, Cas," and Castiel has no idea where they stand.
