A/N: Inspired by this: post/80375993242. Can be seen as friendship or DeanCas pre-slash, depending on your mood. Takes place during the
Dean and Cas are stuck sitting in the lobby of this totally useless corporate building. Castiel is still listening to Crowley's conversation, but only half-heartedly.
Dean looks over at his friend, his best friend. Castiel has a furrow in his brow, lines at the corners of his eyes and in the downward curve of his mouth. He has aged. Dean has known this angel – this man – for seven years now.
When they started out, Dean remembers thinking he must look so small to Castiel. A puny human, living and dying in the same breath. Yet Castiel stayed. He fought for Dean, with Dean. And here they are, seven years later, still alive. Mostly.
But then, seven years isn't that much to either of them. Not in Castiel's millennia, not in Dean's decades. Dean spent forty long years in Hell – years that fade into the background of his memory. The nightmares remain, but Hell grows less and less prominent in Dean's mind with each passing day.
It hits him then, like a hammer over his head, that it's only because of Cas that Dean's here at all. Castiel saved him from an eternity in Hell.
He knew at the time, of course – Castiel was so otherworldly, so powerful, so dangerous. But now, all these years later, when he's just Cas, just the grumpy middle-aged angel in a trench coat, sometimes Dean forgets. Sometimes Dean forgets that Castiel is still the angel who gripped him tight and raised him from perdition.
Did they ever talk about it though, after that first meeting in the barn?
Dean feels something cold tighten in his chest. Has he ever actually thanked Cas for saving him?
Castiel looks over then, still squinting. He cocks his head to the side, that funny little head tilt he'd do in the old days. "You're staring at me," he says. "That never happens. I'm always the one staring at you."
Dean blinks slowly and realizes yeah, he's been staring for quite some time. He licks his lips. "Yeah. Sorry. Got lost in thought."
Castiel grunts and turns away again, but Dean's not letting this thought go.
"You saved me," he says.
"What?"
"You saved me. From Hell."
That little frown appears on Cas's mouth again. "I did."
"We don't ever talk about that."
The frown deepens. "I suppose not. What with the Apocalypse, and then the civil war in Heaven and my downfall," he says casually, like it wasn't a catastrophic tear in their friendship, "and Purgatory. Now this, with Gadreel and the fallen angels. You really think now is a good time?"
"Yeah," Dean says, "I do." He finally tears his eyes away then, staring blankly ahead. "I forgot. I can't believe I forgot something like that."
"It's been a long time," Cas says. "It's understandable that you might forget."
"Yeah, but- you saved me, Cas. In more ways than one. Thank you."
Castiel turns again, eyes fixed on Dean for a long moment. Dean twitches under his gaze, impatient with the silence. Finally, slowly, Castiel says, "You're welcome."
"That's it? You're welcome?"
"You have never thanked me before, Dean, not for rescuing your soul. I know those words are difficult for you. I appreciate the sentiment behind them."
"Cas, you…" He tries to find the words to express what he means, but there aren't any, not in any human language. Then, slowly, his brain catches up with him, and he realizes what Castiel said before. "Wait, what do you mean, it's understandable that I might forget? As in you didn't?"
Castiel's are wide with honesty and sincerity. "Dean, saving you was the pivotal moment of my existence. You thank me for saving you, but truly, it was the opposite." He purses his lips, as if searching out words. "Saving you was, and is, the greatest thing I have ever done."
Dean can do nothing but stare, eyes and mouth wide with humility. How does he respond to something like that, the ultimate declaration of friendship? All the times he's been a jerk to Castiel – the little things, the mocking and the teasing, and then the fights too. All the times he's blamed Castiel for his mistakes. Mistakes are human. Castiel was just learning from Dean.
Yet Cas just comes back with something like this, with steadfast loyalty and unwavering affection. Dean is blown away.
He's never been good with words, so he doesn't even try. Anything that comes out will be stuttered and inarticulate. It will never live up to Castiel's eloquence.
Instead he just reaches out a hand, heavy with unexpressed affection and familiarity, for Castiel's shoulder. He prays Castiel will understand.
