Disclaimer: I have absolutely no idea what the writers of Supernatural have intended for Season 9. I only write what I hope.
A/N: I have more ideas for life after Season 8, especially Destiel moments. Therefore, I might add some more vignettes.
So far away
Dean doesn't just hug anyone. Hugging is reserved for chick flick moments or maybe meeting Sam or Bobby again after one of them (more often than not Dean himself) had been dead. What he certainly doesn't do is wrap his arms around a guy just to freaking comfort them. But he feels this is a special occasion. And maybe falling is a little like death.
From the look on Cas' face, falling is a lot like death. He is pale and he is breathing so little and so shallowly Dean wants to remind him that it's a definite necessity now, but then he thinks that might be rubbing salt in the wound. And what use is that when you don't have to make sure the new human in front of you actually is human?
Dean isn't a hugger. The mere thought of it makes him feel vaguely emasculated and uncomfortable. But he has never seen eyes so empty and a posture so defeated and he fucking hates that.
What happens when he awkwardly puts his arms around the no longer celestial being reminds Dean of the last time he hugged Cas – the only time, actually. He remembers how stiff the angel was in his embrace then, how he didn't even raise an arm to touch Dean back and how Dean was so happy to just have found him that it didn't matter.
Cas isn't tense now, though. As a matter of fact, he's so completely relaxed Dean suspects possession for a moment – and he'll have to get him an anti-possession tattoo, he adds to the mental list of chores his friend's not quite as sudden as usual appearance had started. He is limp more than anything, like there is no one in there.
And for one terrifying second Dean is scared that Cas may actually be gone and all that's left is a shell, a vessel that's no longer inhabited even by Jimmy Novak. He hasn't heard the former angel say a word since he stumbled here.
He wishes Sammy was here. Surely, he'd tell him what to do. But his brother is in the batcave, getting some deeply needed rest and Dean will just have to deal with this on his own.
Since Cas seems unresponsive and The Hug has gone on long enough, Dean makes up his mind to change tactics before the awkwardness and his utter inability to help smother him. Maybe clear his throat and awkwardly pat the guy on his shoulder.
But the second he decides to pull back, he can feel Castiel twitching and one hand coming to rest between Dean's shoulder blades. It's just a soft touch, so soft Dean might actually not have felt it if had he been any less focused on his friend. First there are fingertips against his plaid shirt, just trembling across the smooth surface, then the base of a hand can be felt pressing slightly against the muscles beneath the fabric.
Now it's Dean's turn to be completely thrown. He doesn't dare move in fear of discouraging Cas to reciprocate. On the other hand, the time span for acceptable hugging is already surpassed and he doesn't know how to feel about the fact that the other man is only now getting started.
Castiel's hand is just lying there now, at the exact place Dean imagines an angel's wings might emerge and he tries to unfreeze for sake of not spooking his friend. Support the guy who caused his entire family to fall.
And whatever you do, don't fucking blame him.
Dean brings a gentle – manly – squeeze into the hug to reassure him – maybe both of them – and Cas' other hand is suddenly on the small of his back and that actually feels kinda nice, not that he'd ever admit it.
And then Castiel's entire being seems to envelop him, now gripping his shirt in both places and pulling closer, just closer and his head falls down to rest on Dean's shoulder and there's just one ragged intake of breath just underneath his ear and maybe it's a sob and maybe it's his name and he knows it then.
They are going to be okay.
