A/N
Takes place pretty much right after the dinner scene in "Book of the Damned" and goes into a very speculative direction from there (translation: this isn't gonna happen on the show but let a girl dream on a Saturday night, alright?)
I don't own any of the copyrighted material. I just really like to play with burrowed toys.
Enjoy and maybe leave review if you enjoyed the read!
Dazed and Confused
.
So, apparently Cas was back. After months of not calling or texting- emoticons, Dean's ass- to even suggest he'd been out actively searching for his grace he was suddenly right there in the bunker with them, joking with Charlie like they'd been friends forever and gossiping with Samantha like they were an old married couple. Okay that put Sam and Cas in a context that decidedly made Dean too uncomfortable. Of course he knew those two had been in contact and up to something and it had very likely to do with either Dean's mark or Cas' grace, or a little of both. Point was, Dean was mildly pissed that they felt the need to sneak around him like a couple of teenagers. If Cas wanted his grace back, all he'd have to do was ask Dean and he would've done something to help. If he could hunt monsters with Sam he might just as well have hunted angels with Cas. That might even have been more productive, now that he thought of it.
He feared the only reason Cas had never brought it up was that, just like his brother, he was probably worried about Dean. Because the stupid shitstick was always worried about Dean. And worry aside, it was just slightly upsetting that Cas wouldn't put his confidence in Dean, likely thinking the hunter had enough on his plate with the friggin' Mark of friggin' Cain. Dean wasn't an ass. He could have helped Cas despite everything. He wanted to help Cas.
Because of reasons.
But Cas had been gone so damn long that Dean wasn't going to play Grumpy McGrouch now that he was there. The last couple of days had been emotionally straining enough as it was, he didn't need the added tension between him and Cas. So for now he washed the stale taste of stupid disappointment down with beer and pizza and watched his friends laugh and joke like their lives hadn't gone to shit years ago. With every bottle he found it harder to concentrate on anything but Cas and how he was physically present in Dean's kitchen. There was no use in denying that Dean had thought about the dude a little more than he usually allowed himself to over the past weeks.
He was constantly switching between resignation at his situation and the wish to just have it all end, and quickly, and the urge to keep fighting, damn it. And no matter which way he went, in the end it all came back to Cas. At that moment he blamed the alcohol but he badly wanted to reach out to smack the stupid angel for staying away for so long before pulling him into a long overdue hug that had very little to do with the nature of a platonic friendship.
A quick look around the room revealed that Charlie and Sam had just disappeared around a corner and he was now alone with the angel who was calmly looking at him, blue eyes guarded. There must have been a question in Dean's eyes because Cas spoke without the hunter prompting him.
"They went to bed. You weren't very responsive to their retreat." With that, Cas got up and began to stack the empty pizza cartons and gather the bottles on the table together. Dean noticed that he was still wearing his suit jacket.
"How's it feel to be all yourself again?" He blurted out the question without thought, just buzzed enough that he didn't give a shit about what he was saying. Cas stopped his actions and looked at Dean.
"Things did not quite go as planned. I haven't yet had the time to appreciate having my grace back."
"Oh. Okay." Dean muttered, draining the last of his last beer. The liquid was already warm. He should go to bed. He really, really should. But he couldn't. Regardless of what he had just spent hours to convince himself, there was not a bone in his body that was mad at the angel for his somewhat lengthy abandonment- contact with Sam excluded. After all, it hadn't been the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Dean was fine with that. Totally. It wasn't like they knew any different, so until he fluttered off again Dean would make the best of the angel's stay. "You never called," he said. It was a simple statement with no accusation behind it.
The angel sighed and hid behind the mundane task of clearing the table further. "I was busy."
"You called Sam." Again, no accusation. Judging by the widening of Cas' eyes he had until that moment believed that he and Sam had been inconspicuous. Dean chuckled. "Hey, I don't mind, I know I'm a mess. But for future reference? Sam's not only just as tall but also about as stealth as a moose."
Cas thought about his answer for a long moment. "Moose are solitary creatures and live deep in the forest, Dean. I believe you would have a hard time spotting one out in the wild."
"What, did the mojo put that stick I worked years to get out right back up your ass?"
Cas blinked. "I… It was a joke."
Dean snorted and got up, not wanting Cas to do all the work. "I know it was, Mr Discovery Channel. Now move, I can hide all those bottles under the sink so Sam thinks I threw 'em out."
The angel moved out of the way but stopped Dean by grabbing a hold of his upper arm before he could even open the cabinet below the sink. "It's alright, Dean. I can take out the trash if you want to rest. I don't require sleep."
Dean shook off the angel's hand and leaned back against the counter after placing the empty bottles on top of it. "I feel like we've been thrown back in time or something."
Cas nodded, crossing his arms. "Yes, I can relate."
"You ever gonna tell me how exactly you got your juice back and what had you and Sam go on late night missions?"
"I don't wish to lie to you, Dean. I apologize for being secretive and conspiring with Sam and if you want I can tell you the whole story right now… but I don't want you be mad at me." Cas looked very grim as he said that and Dean guessed there was even more to the whole ordeal than he had thought initially.
"Okay, fine. I don't wanna be mad at you, Cas. Keep it to yourself for now." Dean swallowed. He briefly considered reaching out and patting Cas' arm again but he knew that it wouldn't be enough for either of them. He could sense it, the mutual craving for contact that neither allowed themselves and he wondered briefly if it had always been like that between them and he was even more pro at dismissing this shit than he thought, or if it was new.
"I'm sorry," Cas said, his voice low. "I should have called in at least a couple of times instead of… not doing it."
Dean shrugged. "Yeah, well. It is what it is. 'S not like you're obligated."
"I missed you." This was uttered even more quietly, breaching an oddly intimate territory that Dean was desperate to either run from or embrace wholeheartedly because, fuck, he'd missed the damn angel too. Every single day, although some more than others.
Shit, Dean was drunker than he thought because before he even registered what he was doing he was taking a step toward Cas, curling a hand around the angel's loose tie, and pulling him in, in, in until his face was right there and then it was even closer because their lips were touching. Cas ought to have been caught off-guard, he must have been, because even Dean hadn't known he was going in for a kiss until three seconds ago. But if Cas was really, truly surprised he did one hell of a job at overplaying it because he was right there with Dean, kissing and biting like it was the only thing left to do for them at that moment in the empty bunker kitchen, between stainless steel and empty glass bottles.
It was rough and chaotic and not at all like Dean had always thought it would happen eventually. Given, he hadn't thought about this particular activity with Cas until fairly recently. Their hands stayed pretty tame, Dean's never leaving Cas' tie and the lapel of his suit jacket, and Cas' resting on the counter behind Dean for support while his other hand remained lightly on Dean's waist.
In a moment of clarity during which the reality of the situation threatened to drop on him like that freaky-ass piece of furniture the Trickster had him crushed under, Dean found the strength to pull away. There was no lingering moment between them, no feeling of finally resolved tension, no subconscious chase of the other's lips. Dean merely pushed past a very dazed looking Castiel until stopping at the door.
"Hey, man. If you really wanna take out the trash, that's fine by me." He waited for Cas' catatonic nod, returned it and walked straight to his room because he was an adult and brushing his teeth was overrated anyway.
...
Cas was the last one to shower the next day, mostly because he was the only one out of the four of them that didn't need to shower. Dean was just putting down a can of coffee on the table for Sam and Charlie, who was still getting ready for the day in her room, while his own cup rested already filled on a countertop. Namely the countertop he had been leaning against when he and Cas… well, that countertop, alright. The hunter noted that the kitchen looked suspiciously clean and he strongly suspected the angel had been bored with all the bunker's human inhabitants fast asleep. Imagining Cas cleaning a kitchen now that he had his mojo back was just about funny enough for Dean to grin crookedly just as the angel in question entered the room. His dark hair was damp and messy, probably from towelling it off, which was odd seeing as the angel had the power to just dry it by blinking or something.
"Hey, Cas," Sam greeted cheerfully, looking up from the book he had been studying. "Enjoy your shower?"
"Yes, it was very pleasant, thank you." The angel pulled out a chair for himself and took a seat next to Sam, giving Dean a choice to either sit across from him or his brother. The choice was taken from him when Charlie stormed in like a hurricane and dropped down in the chair adjacent of Sam.
"Top of the morning, bitches. Is that coffee?" She immediately reached for the still steaming can and filled her cup. "Got any cream?"
Dean shook his head. "Milk only." The glare Charlie shot him was one of disapproval but when Dean went to get the milk container and handed it to her she grinned toothily at him nonetheless. "Hey, Cas, you want anything?" Dean was stalling because right now things weren't awkward between him and Cas, at least not more than usual, and he feared that if he sat too close that might change.
"For Christ's sake, Dean. Just sit down and stop mother hen-ing us." Sam rolled his eyes before indulging in a conversation with Charlie about the latest news in the nerd kingdom.
Reluctantly Dean crossed the room and sat down. For a moment he held his breath to test the waters while Cas eyes him curiously. His posture was relaxed, not betraying that anything had changed between them and Dean was finally able to let his shoulders sag and enjoy his morning coffee. After a few minutes of listening to his brother and Charlie chatter away without understanding a thing he gave up and turned his full attention back to Cas. "You miss our water-pressure?"
Cas chuckled. "I know it seems strange but I am accustomed to things like showering now. It is still a pleasant sensation to stand below the stream of flowing water and feel the molecules touch down on my skin. I enjoy it."
Was that supposed to sound that hot? Dean had to take a long drink from his coffee cup to get rid of the sudden dryness in his throat, willing the mental image of a very wet, very naked Castiel out of his mind while the dude was still sitting like three feet away. Jesus. "You're weird," he said, hoping his voice wasn't actually as shaky as it seemed to his own ears.
The angel pressed his lips together in a small smile. "So you keep telling me."
...
It was already past noon when all four of them gathered at the foot of the iron staircase to see Charlie off. Sam had suggested she stay a day or two longer but she'd gotten an email from a friend inviting her to a pre-convention event that she totally couldn't miss. Dean thought her excitement was pretty adorable after seeing her all tense and stressed out. He still felt guilty about their last encounter, for obvious reasons, but at least he slowly began to believe her when she said she'd forgiven him. Didn't mean he was ready to forgive himself.
Anyway.
Charlie threw her arms around Cas and for the first time the angel looked like he was prepared for her enthusiasm. "It was so great to finally meet you, dude." The redhead had her stuff thrown over her shoulder, all packed up for the road, and smiled kindly at he angel before leaning in and whispering something in his ear. In response Cas nodded earnestly before returning her smile. Dean would lie if he said he wasn't curious.
"The pleasure was all mine, Miss Bradbury," Cas finally said as they let go after one last hug. Charlie beamed and skipped over to Dean to throw her full weight at him.
"It's been good seeing you, sorry the book didn't help more."
Dean patted the girl on the back like the big brother he was. "You did great, kiddo." He pulled back. "Now get your ass home and relax for a while. Find a girl, or somethin'."
"Maybe I will. Maybe I won't. You know the life." She winked one last time at Dean and then it was his brother's turn to get a thorough goodbye-hug. "Y'all got my digits, bitches. You better use them when you're in need of a genius." With that she tightened the grip on her duffel and laptop bag and walked toward the staircase, skipping up the steps until she was grinning down at them and giving a last wave. The last thing they heard before the heavy metal door of the bunker fell shut was an echoing, "Adios, bitchachos."
For a moment it was really awkward as the three men- well, two plus an angel- stood there and listened to the sudden silence. Even Cas who'd only just met the whirlwind that was Charlie Bradbury seemed to already miss her bubbly chatter that always made the bunker seem just that notch more homely. Sam was the first to clear his throat and excuse himself to go for a run or read sad news stories about famished children. Whatever.
"I can see why you like her," Cas said. "She's very…"
"Yeah," Dean agreed. "She is."
Briefly Dean wondered if Cas was going to bring up the previous night's incident when the angel looked like he was trying to say something but in the end he just sighed somewhat resignedly, cast a sideways glance at Dean and left without another word. Not two seconds later Dean felt the phone in his pocket buzz to life with two consecutive messages and he got it out without really having to look at the ID to know who was texting him. Of course it was Charlie.
C: he really is dreamy
C: can I keep him?
Dean rolled his eyes at the screen of one of the spare phones they kept, seeing as their work kind of caused them to wreck a fair number of cells annually, and considered not answering at all. Of course Charlie wouldn't just let the whole Cas-thing go without a remark, knowing her she was probably well aware of the whole "Destiel" thing those theatre students had going and was "shipping it like she did Kirk and Spock". In the end he gave in to humour the girl and typed up a reply he knew she'd like.
nope sorry, he was my angel first
The reply came almost instantly, again in multiple texts, and he really hoped she was still outside and not yet driving.
C: possessive much?
C: don't worry, I still don't swing that way
C: he's a keeper tho
Dean heard an engine rumble to life outside and shook his head as he quickly texted back, ignoring what she was implying.
drive safely
C: always ;)
eyes on the road!
He waited another moment but Charlie didn't reply again, thank fuck, so he made his way back into the depths of the bunker to find something to do. Sam wasn't around but Dean hadn't expected him to be, he knew he'd pretty much dropped a bombshell on him with the order to burn the Book of the Damned, but it was for the better. Definitely.
...
He found Cas in the war room, crouched over what looked like Dean's laptop. The hunter huffed, slightly impressed. "That my computer?"
Cas' head shot up in surprised and had he not been an angel, Dean was sure he would have blushed. "Charlie… she showed me how to use it."
"Of course she did," Dean mumbled, more to himself than the angel. "Listen, uh," He scratched the back of his neck as he approached Cas and sat down on the world map gracing the table with a sight grunt. "I still don't feel like being pissed at you, but I think I might need to know what's been going on."
The angel closed the laptop and leaned back in his chair but stayed silent. Dean didn't push him, he just waited for a while, not meeting Cas' eyes. "What if I happen to be pissed at you?" Cas finally said.
"Why would you be pissed at me, man? I ain't the one sneakin' around behind your back."
The angel chuckled. It wasn't a happy sound. "That's right. I already apologized for that, didn't I?"
"You did. Yeah."
The entire exchange was so painfully awkward, Dean had the urge to punch something. Hard. Or better yet, shoot it. This was what he'd been afraid of all day and now the only reasonable thing for him to do before he could panic or start an argument was-
Was to kiss Cas. Again.
Only, Cas seemed to have the same idea and they somewhat collided halfway, Cas in a half-crouch as he had gotten up from his chair and Dean leaning sideways at an odd angle from where he was still sitting on the table. The angel must have realized the same thing because he broke away, tipping the chair behind him backwards in the process, and pushed the closed laptop aside in favour of grabbing Dean's thighs and freaking dragging him closer so Cas was standing between his legs.
Being manhandled like that was not something Dean was used to and his head was swimming because the action had been undeniably hot. But he didn't have much time to ponder over all the possibilities that may present themselves in the future, or the fact that whatever they were doing just now even had a future, Cas' lips were back on his and all of Dean's coherency packed a bag and threw itself out the window.
On instinct, Dean wrapped his legs around Cas because even the thought of the angel stepping away was kind of painful right now. He fisted a hand into Cas' dark hair and opened his mouth, letting a low moan escape before he prodded his tongue at Cas' lips. He was rewarded with a soft sigh as the angel parted his lips for him and Dean knew he was fucking gone right then.
The whole world could collapse and the Apocalypse could threaten them all over again and Dean just wouldn't give even the fraction of a shit because fuck Cas' kisses should be made illegal. Dean had kissed a lot of people in his life and he admitted to being kind of a slut but had anyone asked him, he wouldn't have remembered a single face except for Cas' at that moment.
They were rolling their groins together now, and it was pretty great so far. He could feel Cas' fingers slip below his t-shirt and make contact with his skin, making him shiver and his breath hitch like he was freaking sixteen again. It was so fucking weird and Dean loved every goddamned second of it-
Until the angel's frantic kisses grew soft. The urgency gave way to something lighter as his tongue retreated and he kissed Dean's neck instead. Dean was still panting hard, at first he didn't even notice that they weren't rutting against each other anymore. He returned the angel's quiet, almost timid kisses and counted the beats his heart missed before Cas' breathy voice broke the silence and their kiss.
"Dean…"
God, how often had he heard the jerk say his name. But never like that. And Jesus fucking Christ on a magic bicycle, he'd never known he needed to hear it whispered like that but he did.
It was all too good, it reminded Dean of how toxic he was and he couldn't stand it. So he pushed Cas away, noticing that the angel went easily despite his so obviously superior strength. "Shit," Dean said, flinching at the roughness of his own voice. Then again, "Shit."
Then Dean fled the room like an armada of hellhounds was after him, more confused than he ever remembered being.
...
Dean locked himself in his room for hours as he tried to process what in the world he'd been thinking. The conclusion he came to was of course that he hadn't been thinking at all. Which was precisely the problem. He wasn't necessarily regretting what went down, far from it actually. But that didn't mean he knew what to do with himself and the thoughts whirling in his mind.
Enlightenment came in the form of classic rock tunes. Didn't it always? Led Zep just knew what to say and when to say it, damn it, Dean thought as he turned up the volume. It wasn't his favorite song of all time but right then as he was trying to get his mattress to swallow him whole and never release him back to the world, line after line just felt so fucking relatable, Dean honestly believed Jimmy Page was playing private shrink for him.
Been Dazed and Confused for so long it's not true.
Wanted a woman, never bargained for you.
Like, it didn't get more fitting than that. Out of context, at least.
Suddenly there was a crash that shook the entire bunker and all the lights flickered like Dean was in some sort of B-movie that attempted to be scary. He paused the song, sighed and got up but grabbed his gun from below the pillow, just in case. Out in the hallway, everything seemed fine. He called out for his brother and the angel, got no answer, remembered that Sam had texted him he was going out.
Another crash made the walls tremble but this time Dean was fairly certain it came from the dungeon. Great. As if a dungeon wasn't fucking creepy enough by itself. Dean loaded his gun and made his way down into the lower levels of the bunker. The closer he got, the louder he could hear someone chant in a foreign language. He didn't recognize the voice but as soon as he rounded the last corner he caught a glimpse at Cas standing in the middle of the painted Devil's trap in the centre of the room, motionless. There were sigils painted on the walls, emitting a dark blue light that dipped the entire room into dancing colours. Cas' eyes glowed in the same mysterious shade of blue and the unknown voice came from his mouth. Whatever the fuck he was doing, it was mysterious as shit. And Dean had seen a metric fuckton of magic by now.
The third crash came just as sudden as the previous two and Dean realized that it wasn't so much a crash as thunder. Actual rolling thunder. The flickering lights in the bunker, if not all of Lebanon, were the result of this freak-storm that Cas was conjuring. There was a blast of blue lightening sparking from the sigils on either wall and as a result, something remarkable happened.
Dean could see Castiel's wings.
Not the real ones, of course. Never the real ones. But the shadows were there on the glowing walls like in that barn when he had first met the angel in person. It took him a moment to realize what struck him as odd about what he was seeing, despite the obvious, and when he did he could almost feel his heart drop into his shoes. The wings he remembered were luscious and proud but what he saw now were bone-structures and battered feathers. Certainly nothing that could support Cas to fly.
Was that the result of the Fall? Had all angels' wings been torn and burned and broken because of what he, Sam and Cas had set in motion? If so, Dean wasn't sure he could live with that. Dean wasn't sure Cas could live with that, seeing as his grace had been the trigger. As if on cue, the light in Cas' eyes brightened as his voice grew louder and the thunder rolled once more.
Dean decided that whatever was going on, if it was dangerous Cas would have said something. Therefore, Dean secured his gun again and retreated as silently as he could. On a whim he decided on looking up Cas' browser history on his laptop to see if that gave away anything on whatever the heck the angel was doing. The computer was still in the war room where Cas had pushed it out of the way. Dean's stomach flipped at the recent memory but he was quick to dismiss the feeling before it could get a hold on him.
He had half expected having to recreate the data of a deleted browser history but as soon as he typed in his password a page came up that looked suspiciously like it was connected to what the angel was cooking together in the dungeon. The sigils matched and from what Dean gathered Cas had done a decent job with what he recognized as a locating spell. Seemingly, Cas was trying to find Metatron through his grace and he was pretty fucking determined, too.
Satisfied with his findings and at least sixty-seven percent certain that Cas' ritual didn't pose any real danger, Dean closed his laptop and went back to his room. It was getting kind of late and there wasn't much left to do so he kicked off his shoes, shrugged off the flannel he was wearing and dropped down onto his bed, pushing the gun back under his pillow in a practiced motion.
He turned the music back on and closed his eyes as the song continued where it had left off as if Dean hadn't been gone for half an hour. Shrink-Jimmy-Page was quick to lull him into a restless slumber filled with dreams of blue lightning and charred angel wings that just made Dean wonder if he knew Cas at all anymore but that reminded him how glad he was to have him back.
Sweet little baby, I don't know where you've been.
Gonna love you baby, here I come again.
...
Sam got back mid-morning the next day and Dean immediately knew something was up. He knew his brother enough to recognize his nervous glances that gave away he was trying to keep something from Dean. He also knew that this time Cas wasn't in on it either.
"You were gone a while," Dean said by means of greeting as he passed Sam in the hallway to their rooms.
"Yeah," Sam said and swallowed. "Yeah, I decided to, y'know, watch this Spanish film that was advertised and it was longer than I expected so I- I got a motel room for the night."
Dean wasn't interested in hearing the truth right now so he merely shrugged and drank from the coffee cup he was cradling. "There a foreign film festival in town I don't know about?" It was enough of a comment to let Sam know he wasn't fooling anyone.
After that encounter Sam took a shower and disappeared into his room for literally the entire day. Dean could practically feel him geekin' out in there, and their rooms weren't even next to each other. He also didn't hear from Cas until it was well past lunch-time, judging by the impatient grumble his stomach gave in frequent intervals.
The trip to the kitchen was a quick one and barely fifteen minutes after deciding on having something to eat, Dean finished his second grilled cheese sandwich with a satisfied grunt. When he looked up from his plate, Cas was standing in the doorway- sans suit jacket and tie.
"Hello, Dean," said Dean in an attempt to imitate Cas' trademark greeting.
The angel suppressed a smile. "That didn't sound anything like me."
Dean shrugged and moved to place his plate in the sink. If he was lucky enough Sam would wash it together with his conscience. "Something you wanna say to me?"
"You saw me yesterday."
"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Fine tracking spell you had going. A little heads-up would've been nice, though."
Cas bit his lip and entered the kitchen. "I got carried away."
"Did it work?" Dean was honestly pretty curious. It had been quite a while since Cas had last gone full BAMF on them.
"I'm afraid not. Metatron must have expected me to attempt something like this. He is warded even against the old Enochian magic." Cas looked defeated and tired, even though Dean knew the angel was at the peak of his health, for angel standards.
"Sucks," Dean offered, earning himself a nod in return. "So, uh…" He pursed his lips, voice trailing off.
"Is there something you would like to say to me?" Cas prompted softly, taking another step into the room. Dean felt irrationally trapped for a second before he told himself to calm the fuck down. It was just Cas.
"Why didn't you come to me for help when you were looking for your grace? Like, I know last time I met that fuck wad I overstepped the line by a mile. I still would have liked to help." Dean's voice was close to pleading as he tried to understand.
"Sam and I were doing fine, mostly. I thought it would be nonsensical to pull you into this as well, seeing as you had enough struggles as it was." There was a tinge of annoyance in the angel's voice but it ebbed away as he continued. "I didn't wish to worry you."
Okay. Okay, that sounded slightly reasonable. But Dean wasn't done yet. "So you thought my brother and my best friend going behind my back and making deals with God-knows-who wasn't worrying?"
Cas sighed. It seemed sighing was something they were both doing an awful lot of lately. Sighing and nodding. What great ways of communicating. "I'm not going to apologize again, Dean. Also, considering you don't want to fight you are addressing this topic the two of us seem to disagree over for our conversations a bit too frequently, so maybe we should just argue and get it over with."
"I just wanna know what the hell you were thinkin', man!" Dean yelled, fist connecting painfully with the cold surface of that stupid fucking kitchen counter he seemed to always end up at.
He expected Cas to yell back, to get all up in his personal space and maybe punch him or something but the angel did neither. He just stood there for a moment before he replied calmly. "I was thinking of wanting to safe you."
Dean blinked dumbly. "What?"
"I found a book, on my travels. It contained a powerful spell that promised to render even the darkest magic powerless. It did not say if that included Cain's Mark but I… I hoped Metatron might know something and when he didn't… I was ready to kill him, Dean."
"But you didn't."
"No," Cas started pacing the room restlessly. "He told me there was still some of my grace left after his spell. I had suspected as much but never dared to put too much trust into it, until that moment. Of course Metatron deceived me once again. As did the book, I'm afraid."
"Books tend to do that lately," Dean commented grimly. "Don't beat yourself up over it. You did everything you could."
"But it wasn't enough!" Now Cas was yelling, his voice desperate and strained. "I would have given everything to have that evil lifted off you. Don't you think that, had it been an option, I would have willingly given my grace up to cure you if the book had just told me how?"
Cas looked furious at the mere prospect of Dean doubting him, and rightfully so. Dean swallowed hard but kept his eyes steadily focused on anything and everything that wasn't the angel.
"Cas, c'mon. I wouldn't have asked for that and you know it. Couldn't have."
The sigh Dean got in response was one of exasperation. "I am aware. It doesn't change the fact that I wouldn't have hesitated in giving it up. Not for you."
And okay that wasn't shit they talked about, ever. It was one thing for Sam and Dean to take turns in making sacrifices for one another no one should ever have to even think about, but Dean had somehow overlooked the fact that they had recruited Cas into their suicide squad along the way. "Dude, no." Dean sighed. "This... Fuck, Cas. How did we get here, huh? How the hell did it come to this?" A moment later the hunter realized that, basically, Hell was precisely the answer to what he just asked. "You should have never saved me from the pit, man."
Dean would swear the very air around them changed at his words, like all the particles suddenly froze- and they probably did, seeing Cas' look of cold rage. "I'll ignore the fact that I was following orders, namely those telling me to safe the righteous soul because you and I are both well acquainted with the past. What I will not ignore, Dean, is that you did not deserve to end up in Hell in the first place. Very few souls do. And I also like to believe that I did not have my place in Heaven, despite what I was told for quite literally all of time." Cas tilted his head and it was not a gesture of mild confusion as it had been during the first couple of years they'd known each other, it was purely condescending. "You may have deserved another angel just as much as I might have deserved another mission, but no matter how often I think about our past and our achievements- the friendships we built- I cannot find enough regret to honestly conjure the wish to never have pulled you from perdition. And if you truly disagree then I must have greatly misjudged you."
Dean was overwhelmed enough that he felt his throat closing up, making breathing just that much harder and a part of him knew that Cas was being honest here, that he truly did have so much trust in Dean even after all the disaster and tragedy he had brought to the angel. Dean blew air out of his nose, trying to steady his racing heart. "Just... look at yourself for a moment, Cas. You had it all, a family, a home, your wings. And okay yeah maybe your siblings are a bit screwy and have genocidal tendencies every once in a while- who doesn't?!- and Heaven worked before we came along and caused a shitstorm. ...and I saw your wings yesterday. Or what's left of them, anyway. You lost everything you had because of me and..." He didn't know how to finish.
Cas looked like he was about halfway to hugging Dean and shielding him from the evils of the universe. His eyes had lost their menace and instead were two deep sad pools of blue. "Oh, Dean," he said with a slow shake of his head. "Don't you understand? I did not lose anything. Not in the sense that you're describing. Yes, I have caused great disputes among my siblings and done them more harm than I have intended but those who understand my motives, like Hannah, will stand by me regardless. And Heaven... Heaven is at peace again, at last. It is now more of a home to the angels than it has ever been... but it isn't for me anymore. To be quite honest, I'm not all that sure if I have a place to call home at all seeing as I have been on the road for the past year."
Dean wanted so badly to tell the angel that the bunker was Cas' home just as much as it was his or Sam's but it wouldn't be true. He had never extended a permanent invitation, nor had he been particularly welcoming whenever Cas had come to visit. It had never been like two nights before, with Sam and Charlie and Cas all sitting together like a… well, like a family. And Dean honestly never even dared to hope that such a moment would ever occur, considering their track record. So yeah, the main reason Dean had never outright asked Cas to stay at the bunker was because he was scared shitless that he would refuse the offer in the politest way possible and get his Holy Ass back on the road Dean only knew too well.
"You're always welcome here, you know that," he said gruffly.
Castiel's surprised expression told him that it wasn't quite that obvious. The angel gave a curt nod. "I appreciate it."
"Yeah, well. 'S all I can do. It's not like I can give you back your wings."
Cas slumped his shoulders and pulled up a chair before dropping into it in a row of actions that were so incredibly human, had Dean not seen the evidence he wouldn't have believed his friend was all juiced-up again. "Why do you insist on bringing up my wings? In all the years that I've known you, we never once talked about them."
"Never had occasion to," Dean mumbled stubbornly, causing Cas to force back a small smile before his expression was grim once again.
"Very well. I will comment on the obvious issue once and you will listen to me closely, alright?" Cas didn't wait for an answer, he just continued. "An angel's wings are not comparable to anything in this realm, it's nothing like another appendage, regardless of the manifestation that you were able to see the shadows of. Yes, they enable an angel to fly and they are considered very precious. And yes, it hurt… like hell… when I fell to Earth and felt them burn to their bone, so to say. –but Dean, my wings, they mean nothing to me at this point."
"How can you say that? You went through whatever shit to get your grace back from Meta-doucheface and now you're like 'meh'? I'm sorry, buddy, but I really don't get you sometimes. Like, at all."
Cas sighed and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'Don't I know it'. There was a short pause, again, before he spoke up. "I'm 'like meh'"- and there were the infamous air quotes- "because I truly never believed it would happen and I came to terms with it. I may have my powers back... but I don't feel like an angel."
"The fuck are you saying?"
"Come on, Dean. Don't be ignorant. I stopped being an angel the moment I chose free will over the Host."
That was a pretty weighty statement right there and Dean wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to say in return so he just went for blaming himself. That usually worked. "I never meant for that to happen, Cas. Nothing of it."
Suddenly the angel's head snapped up and for the briefest second Dean was sure that Cas was going to smite him. "I fell because I chose to and I fell for you. Not because of you. For you. And for myself. And if given another chance… I would make the same choice over and over again." The room was quiet before Cas added, "Although I admit I could have done without the literal fall from Heaven. It's a long way down."
The tension between them lingered for another moment before Cas' entire face lit up with a smile and he started laughing. It was a candid sound rolling up from the depths of his belly and Dean honest to God- whoever that guy ended up being- had never heard a more beautiful sound. He couldn't help it, he had to join in. They laughed until it stole their breath and they were just wheezing helplessly and Dean looked up to look at Cas who's eyes were all crinkly around the edges and-
Holy fuck he was so fucking in love with the guy.
The moment was ridiculous, really. The two of them red in the face from laughing more than either of them ever had and staring each other down like they were trying to read the answers to all of Existence in the other's eyes. "C'mere," Dean said quietly, his voice rough from laughing so hard, and held out his hand. Cas pushed back in his chair and got up, grasping Dean's palm. There was no question about any of this anymore, not in Dean's head. He just tugged at Cas' hand until he stood close enough for Dean to see the different shades of blue in his eyes. He placed Cas' hand on his own chest, allowing the other to feel his skipping heart, and held it there with one of his hands, while the other came up to cup Cas' cheek. "You deserve so much better," he whispered, biting back all the other sappy shit that threatened to spill.
"I don't want 'better'," Cas admitted earnestly. "Damned, broken, screwed… stubborn… I don't care. I want you."
"I'm glad," Dean said.
And really, what else could he do but kiss the guy? Really kiss him. Slow and tender and with everything he wanted Cas to have. It wasn't like the two times before. There was no hurry, no anger and no desperation. It wasn't even a deep kiss, just a sweet, sweet gesture that was so much more than anything Dean had allowed himself to dream of. It felt like something constricted around his heart almost painfully but it was a good sort of pain. Not like a bullet wound, or a cut… more like the soreness after a good workout or the strain from smiling too wide- not that Dean was particularly familiar with either. Nevertheless, now that he knew the feeling, he wasn't sure he'd be ready to let it go again. They broke apart, panting heavily.
Cas moved his hand from Dean's chest up to his face to touch a thumb to the hunter's bottom lip curiously. "That was… pleasant," he concluded dryly. Dean agreed wholeheartedly and he had so many things he could say in return, half of which so sentimental he doubted even his schmaltzy brother had ever considered uttering them out loud.
Instead of saying something ridiculous, Dean opted to lean in for another kiss before nudging Cas gently into the direction of his room.
...
They lay still awake in what must have been the piss-early hours of the morning, fully clothed on top of the covers on Dean's bed and wrapped around each other like it was the most reasonable thing and none of their five years' worth of bullshit had kept them at arm's length for just as long. Dean lay on his back, one arm behind his head for support, the other tightly curled around the angel's side. Meanwhile, Cas was apparently working on his spider-monkey impersonation, judging by the arm and leg thrown over Dean's body to hold him close.
"You can stay here, Cas," Dean rasped, allowing the emotion in his voice to come through. "Not because it's the least I can do but because I want you here. I want this to be your home. Even if you go out to, I don't know, check on Claire or help the angels… I want you to, y'know, come back here once you're done. Back to me."
Cas blinked several times as if getting rid of tears that threatened to fall. "I would like that very much." The angel cast his eyes downward, swallowing hard. "I only wish it would have come to this sooner."
Dean pushed his index finger below Cas' chin, forcing him to look up. "Me too, but it's our fault for being on the road, or on the run… or dead. This just didn't fit our schedule."
"I'm not speaking of a moment of schedule convenience," Cas sounded frustrated but not angry. "I mean I am happy we are finally at this point but… I can't quite stop thinking of what might have been a year ago, when we both were human. If things played out differently back then we would now have a chance of growing old together."
"Is that a reason why you're so torn about having your grace back?"
"Partly, yes. It's just… Humanity may not have treated me well but it has changed me. I appreciate it much more than all the millennia spent as celestial light. I'm not asking you to understand… but back then I found something very calming in the thought of finally being on equal grounds with you, quite literally."
"And then I kicked you out, huh?"
"Yes. And then the civil war forced me to steal another angel's grace, destroying all hope for this dream I had."
"For what it's worth, Cas, I'm not exactly human either."
"You will be. We will find a cure. Only I don't know if I can go through the agony of Falling again, if I could even survive it twice. For you I would try, of course."
"Well. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Until then you're an honorary human, understand?"
"Who doesn't eat or sleep?"
"You can pretend to like my food anyway and watch over me all night like in good old times. I don't give a shit as long as you're here, I'm done with messing things up." Dean pressed a distracted kiss into Cas' short hair, admitting to himself that he kind of missed the chaotic bird's nest style from all those years ago.
Cas moved until he was leaning over Dean on the mattress, eyes soft. "Dean… that sounds very enjoyable." He leaned in for a quick kiss that Dean indulged in all too willingly before pulling away in favour of a smile.
"Yeah, yeah. Alright you creep. Time for bed." He moved to switch off the lamp on the nightstand and then settled back into the memory foam, holding out an arm for Cas to return to his side. The angel took the invitation gladly, pressing a kiss to Dean's chest.
"Sleep well, Dean," he whispered.
Dean did.
FIN
