Castiel turned his face towards the sun, basking in its warm, bright caress. The empty had been cold, and he had feared he'd be lost in the darkness forever. But he'd needed to return to Earth; to return to Sam, and Dean. Reaching out with his grace, he located the brothers in the bunker. Instinct had his wings stretching out, ready to take flight. but he couldn't fly, not any more - or so he thought. For one moment he was standing in the long grass, and the next he was standing on the hard tarmac outside the Men of Letters' bunker.

Cas smiled. Losing his wings had been like losing an arm, but to have them back... A pang of remorse engulfed him; sadness that his brothers and sisters couldn't join him in flight.

Letting himself in, he closed the door behind him with a dull bang that echoed through the corridor. "Dean? Sam?" he called, descending the staircase to the lower level.

"Cas?" Sam stared at him in astonishment, sitting upright in his seat as he placed his feet on the floor instead of in the chair across from him.

Castiel smiled. "Sam," he breathed, relieved to see him alive and unharmed.

There was a smash from behind him, and he spun round to find Dean staring at him. A bottle of beer lay at his feet, its brown contents spilling across the floor.

"Hello, Dean."

Seemingly with great difficulty, Dean dragged his eyes away from Cas and looked at his brother, as if seeking reassurance that he wasn't imagining Cas's resurrection.

"How?" Sam asked.

Dean's eyes snapped back to Cas, that one word enough to tell him that he wasn't losing his mind.

"It's... complicated," he settled for.

Dean closed the space between them, one foot at a time. He never took his eyes from Castiel - never even blinked - as if afraid he'd disappear. When he was at arm's length, his hands found Castiel's chest, palming across the very solid body in front of him. Cas didn't miss the way they shook as they fisted in his coat, nor the shuddery intake of breath as Dean accepted that the Cas standing in front of him was very, very, real.

A tear dripped down his cheek as he fell into Castiel's arms, burying his face into the angel's neck and allowing Cas to hold him. Dean didn't know how long they stood there, holding Cas so tight that his knuckles were white; so tight that, if he were human, he would be leaving bruises on his skin. What he did know was that, when he turned his face towards Cas, he found the angel already looking at him.

Their foreheads pressed together, lips centimetres apart. So close, and yet so far. Later each would swear the other initiated it, but suddenly they were kissing with a desperation and an eagerness that had been simmering beneath the surface for almost a decade. Their feelings, always kept hidden, deep within themselves, boiled over until, in that one moment, nothing else mattered. Cas was the one who always came back, the one who was always supposed to be there. Dean had been lost - had lost Cas, and every last shred of hope and faith that he'd find a way back - but now he was found.

When they finally broke apart, Sam was gone. A part of Dean wondered how long he'd stayed, but the other part didn't care.

"I had to come back," Cas said, breathing heavily.

Dean couldn't remember ever seeing the angel so flustered, and he smiled.

"I couldn't leave you. I told myself, told him, it was because you needed me, but that's not true. I need you. I want you."

Dean stared at Cas for a long moment, letting the fact that this weird, dorky, powerful being had chosen him. Then he kissed him again, tender and sweet. "I love you," he said, not quite able to look Cas in the eye. "I never told you— I tried, but I could never get the words out."

"You were afraid," Cas said aloud what Dean couldn't bring himself to admit.

Then, Dean did meet his gaze. "Yeah," he whispered softly.

"I suppose, so was I."

Dean couldn't help but laugh at the thought of Castiel, a freakin' angel of the Lord, being afraid that his feelings for a human were unreturned. "You know," he said, forcing out a laugh over the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat, "I'm pretty sure I remember telling you not to die again."

Cas smiled. "I am truly sorry."

Dean laughed, his eyes swimming with tears. Hesitantly, a little nervous, he took Cas's hand and lead him in the direction of his room. "I reckon I should probably give you a once-over, just to make sure you're really okay."