"Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."

-Cloths of Heaven by W. B. Yeats /Set by Rebecca Clarke


Castiel is standing in the shadows, on hill at the back of the bunker, almost at the line of trees, watching the stars. Again.

Every night in the week since they'd found Castiel on the road and brought him back to the Headquarters, falling down on his feet, Dean has seen him out here, doing exactly the same thing. Almost surveying the sky, out here where the darkness let the stars show clearly. Every night Dean, so far, had turned away, not sure what to say, afraid to intrude, and left him to his thoughts.

And because that day they'd found Castiel, Dean had, without even a second for thought, run to him, grabbed his face, and kissed his stupid- apparently human, apparently alive- mouth. Hard. And Cas had kissed him back. Cas hadn't even seemed surprised, like it was a natural reaction, like it was the thing to do.

And, whether it was just less important than everything else, or he'd been too dazed to remember, or maybe he was just giving Dean a break, Cas had never said a word about it after. Never been awkward or looked at him weirdly. And man if that didn't make Dean appreciate him as much as anything he'd ever done. As much as it made him more and more nervous. And maybe even a little let down.

But Cas had been so quiet all this time, still, as now, usually wearing his own suit pants, shirt, and hardly-done tie. And now here he is again, alone. Suddenly Dean realizes there's a shine on Cas's face as he looks skyward. He's crying. Well, Dean isn't going to let too much of that go on.

"Hey Cas."

"Hello Dean," Dean tries not to smirk that he still greets him this way, but he'd never ask him to stop. He pretends to just notice Cas's face as he turns toward Dean slightly.

"What's up, buddy? The stars doing something nasty?" he tries to make him smile.

Castiel just looks at him. His ageless, ancient blue eyes filled with more pain and regret than Dean has ever seen, even when he first told them what had happened. Fair skin obviously raw even in the end of dusk starlight, throat working hard. Instinctively Dean puts a hand on Cas's shoulder. But he can't find words.

Cas looks up again with a sigh, not moving out of Dean's grasp.

"All of this," Cas's eyes roam the heavens. "I used to be part of all of it. All that power and order, watching over all of you, all of the Earth. And all of that beauty and splendour and colour- more colours than human eyes can perceive- and light…"

Suddenly Castiel is looking straight into Dean's eyes again. "I used to be able to offer that to this world, to you." Dean is so stunned he has to work hard to hear the next words.

"I literally had the power of Heaven at my back. I was able to raise you from Hell, and to put all of my Grace behind your plans, which usually ended up better ideas than even my own." Cas looks down, raising his eyebrows in a blush, looks back at Dean and continues before Dean can stutter anything.

"And now… now I have none of it. I can only look at what I lack. I 'used to belong to a much better club', but without that, what do I have to offer?… I must be less than useless to… to anyone." And Cas goes silent, looking fearful.

And Dean's been trying to stop him, to stop his obvious fear that he's going to be rejected. For a moment horrible he remembers visions of a version of Cas that could be brought on by Cas's sadness and Dean's repression. But his own guilt wells up. Had he really made Cas feel like he was only useful for his power? Had his declarations of need and… oh. Suddenly Dean understands.

"Cas, listen to me," Dean holds Cas by both his shoulders, squares them to himself, holds his eyes. "When I said I needed you, I didn't mean I needed angelic powers or Heaven. I meant I needed you. Castiel. Cas. By my side, with Sam. And me by yours. Maybe I tried to avoid saying it straight but, man, it's the truth, I needed you to… to stay, for once, and be you. For once not leave me behind, or be turned into something else." Cas looks even more pained and ashamed for a moment as Dean tries to stop the blush all over his face. But Dean presses on. "And… Cas, I want you here in… in every way. Did I really not make that clear either? What happened to 'I can see inside you'? I mean, I know it took me a while to get that myself, but… man, I kissed you."

Dean lets go, and Castiel is staring at him now, almost afraid to let his melancholy go. The shadows play over his changing expression, "I can't…couldn't… see that for which I didn't look, and there was so much confusion in you, and fear… And, well, people do things like that in shock and intense moments with their compatriots, I've seen."

He's not done with the word before Dean's rolling his eyes and grabbing his face once again, kissing him like his life depends on it. Because in a way it does. Cas is so central to his life now, his purpose, his heart. His lips land hard on Cas's, inescapable and undeniable. Cas's large, soft lips respond immediately, kissing him back and opening to slide his tongue into Dean's mouth. Cas grabs at Dean's shoulders now, one hand coming up into his short hair and securing their faces. Dean's never been kissed like this, by someone so strong that he himself doesn't need to hold back. So he doesn't. He holds Cas's neck, learns the soft and hard feel of his mouth, the rhythm of his human breath in his own mouth.

When they finally break for air, Dean leans their foreheads together, looking into Castiel's eyes as he holds his neck. But Castiel pulls away, breathes deeply.

"Cas," he whispers like a terrible secret being revealed, "Cas, I've got a life of crap and crazy behind me and a few useful skills… I can't bring the power of heaven to you or the beauty of the sky or any of that, and could never offer you anything close to what you were. All I can bring to your feet, all I ever could, is… devotion and… love."

Cas looks almost stricken before he pulls Dean to kiss him, softly, again.

"That's a mightier thing by far, Dean, if hardly deserved. And my love and devotion, for what they are worth, are yours in return."

Now it's Dean who's tearing up without meaning to. He hadn't realize until recently how much he wanted just that, and not until this moment he realized how much. He can't be ashamed of how much he'd felt for this angel, this man, any more. Because now he has more than that whole night sky in return.

He has to clear his throat- and still, after so many years and the past few moments, his pride- to actually answer.

"Well, then we're even, because you've been running off with mine for a while now. So let the stars do their thing, they're still there, for the both of us." Dean looks up, then has to smirk a little. "But the beer's inside, so come on."

And with the kind of smile from Castiel that Dean still can't quite understand being meant for his sorry ass, Dean is following him- like he'd pretended not to truly be doing for too long- back through the hatch down the stairs. And that, to him, rivals the beauty of anything else in creation.