"Cas, it'll be fine."
"No, I know it will, I just…" Dean felt a hand grip his tightly. "I'm worried, Dean."
Dean flipped his hand over and squeezed back, ignoring the clammy feeling. "I know you are, babe, but it really will be fine." He shot a cocky grin in the direction of his boyfriend's voice. "I trust Tessa."
"I do, too, Dean, but this isn't just about trust." Dean felt Cas' hand start to shake in his grip. "Any surgery comes with risks, even simple ones, and this isn't exactly a routine procedure. Sometimes things just happen, and I'm so," Dean heard Cas' shaky sigh and felt him bend down to press his head against their joined hands. "I'm so scared, Dean." Cas' voice was fainter as we whispered against the hospital bed. "I don't want to lose you."
"Cas, come here." Dean whispered, tugging their hands to him. He felt the mattress dip, the material rustling loudly with the added weight as Cas sat on the edge of the bed near Dean's hip. Dean reached his free hand out towards Cas, softly smiling his thanks when Cas gently led his hand to himself. "I'm not going to die, Cas." He lightly brushed his thumb against Cas' cheekbone. "Worst case scenario, I come out just as blind as I went in."
"But what if- "
Dean leaned forward and rested his forehead against his boyfriend's. "There's no point in talking 'what-ifs', babe. Anything could be a 'what if'. What if the zombie apocalypse happens and the surgeon eats my eyeballs?"
"Dean," Castiel says, voice serious. Dean can feel his little smile twitching against his palm, though, so he isn't too convinced. "There will be no zombie apocalypse."
"Bold claim, Cas." Dean squeezed Cas' hand again. "For all you know, there could be an evil scientist in the basement right now, putting the finishing touches on a zombie virus."
Dean felt Cas' smile grow. "I don't think that's how zombies work."
"Mm," Dean hummed. "You might be right. It'd probably start in the morgue."
"Dean," Castiel tried to protest, but Dean could hear the laughter in his tone.
"You know," Dean continued, feeling his own grin tug its way on to his face. "I'd actually be proud of any zombies that come back to life. That takes real DEAD-ication."
"Oh my god, Dean." Cas groaned, laughing despite himself. "Where did you even get that?"
Dean shrugged, smiling. He squeezed Cas' hand again. "That's why I'm doing this, you know." He said softly, after a moment of silence.
Cas leaned into Dean's hand, still resting on his cheek. "For the zombies?"
"Yes, Cas. For the zombies."
Dean felt the breath of air against his chin as Cas snorted quietly.
He smiled softly. "No, babe." Dean's voice dropped down to a breath. "I want to see it."
"See what?" Cas' voice was just as low, but Dean could hear the confusion.
Dean sighed. "Cas, I'm not doing this to see the snow again. I mean, I do want to see the snow again, but I've seen that before. When I was a kid, I saw all the spring flowers, all the colors of the trees in fall, all of that. Of course that's all beautiful. But," Dean sighed again. "I want to see you, Castiel. I want to see what shade of blue your eyes are when you grumble into your coffee in the morning. I want to see how messy your hair gets after you drive home with the windows open." Dean chuckled to himself. "I want to see what your face looks like when you're trying so hard not to smile at my dumb jokes, but I can still hear the laughter in your voice."
Dean felt tears sliding down Cas' cheeks onto his thumb.
"I," Dean's voice was barely above a whisper, "want to see what expression you have when I finally get the courage to ask you to marry me."
"I'll be happy," Cas's voice was watery, and cracked on the second word. "I'll be so happy, Dean, I," he laughed through his tears, "I'll be crying."
"Good," Dean smiled and pressed a gentle kiss against Cas' lips. "I want to see that, too."
Cas laughed again, and gently tugged his hand from Dean's to wipe his eyes. "Okay," he whispered. "Okay. I trust Tessa. It'll be fine." He sounded determined. "It'll be fine." Dean felt Cas' hands rest on his shoulders. "Just… promise me you'll give me a chance?"
Dean's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.
"If," Cas' voice was trembled harder than ever. "If you don't like what you see. If my eyes are too dark and my hair is too messy and… just… give me a chance?"
"Castiel." Dean moved his hand from Cas' face and gently took both of Cas' hands in his own. "I will promise you that no matter what you're worrying over right now, I will not end this because of what you look like. Not ever. You are too important to me for me to even think about doing that."
"You don't know that," Castiel whispered. "You can't say that. What if you don't like my nose? What if- "
"'What ifs', Cas." Dean softly kissed his boyfriend again. "Not going to happen. Never."
"Okay," Cas shuddered a sigh. "Okay."
"Good," Dean smiled. "I love you, Cas."
"I love you, too, Dean." Castiel sighed softly.
Dean heard footsteps in the doorway of the hospital room. "Mr. Winchester?" A male voice. It sounded his nurse from earlier, Alfie. "It's time to take you to surgery."
"Alright," Dean said, kissing Cas one last time. "You ready, babe?"
"Yeah," Cas nodded, standing from the bed, but keeping his hand tight in Dean's. "It'll be fine. I trust Tessa."
"Good." Dean smiled, squeezing Cas' hand one last time before turning to the nurse. "I'm all ready, Alfie. Take me to your leader."
Dean heard two quiet chuckles.
"Okay, Mr. Winchester, here we go."