AN: ok, so my first real attempt at fluff, let me know what you think :)
Cas and Dean had barely said a word to each other in weeks.
The tension had been building up for a while now, ever since a broken, fallen, angel had showed up on the doorstep to the bunker about a month ago. It had been 11 days since the sky rained fire when Dean had opened the door and Cas had just stood there, staring at Dean, the deep sea behind his eyes raging with pain, then sorrow, then relief, then fatigue, all flashing past in a second, before he just collapsed, and Dean caught him. Dean will always catch him.
He carried Cas into the house, past Sam's room where he was supposed to be sleeping, but instead looked on shocked through his open door and about to get up to help Dean, opening his mouth to ask a million questions at once, but one glare from his big brother and he got back to pretending to obey his 'bed rest' order.
Dean carried Cas past the library, past the little corner where there was an old armchair and a little cardboard sign marked 'Cas' place' taped to one of the book shelves. Dean had set up the little area when they had first moved into the bunker, back when he prayed every day that Cas would come back and stay with him, not leave him like he always had, not hurt him again. Back when he hoped that Cas loved him like he loved Cas. After the angel had taken off with his tablet, Dean had walked into the library and unleashed his pain in the form of the utter destruction of 'Cas' place'. He'd gone back in the next day to find it put back together again, with a note that said "He's your person Dean, and you know it, so stop being such a jerk and grow a pair". He'd burned the note and he and Sam didn't speak of it, but secretly Dean was grateful.
Dean carried Cas in his arms all the way to his bed. Then he stripped off the trench coat, the tie, folding them carefully, then his shoes and socks, placed a blanket over him and sat in his armchair and watched over Cas through the day and the night. He watched as his angel, because Cas would always be his angel, slept sound.
When Cas awoke a few days later, Dean was asleep at his usual spot at his desk, having had one eye on a book about a rare form of Djinn, the other, as always, watching over Cas. Fatigue had gotten the better of him after staying up for three days, caring for Cas, whilst feeling guilty for neglecting a still recovering Sam. Cas just sat there staring at Dean for God knows how long, when Sam walked in, nearly had a heart attack at the sight of Cas, and had taken him to eat something.
They had blueberry pancakes for breakfast, and Cas seemed to enjoy them. They talked about what had happened with Metatron, and with Crowley and Abaddon. They discussed Sam and Dean's work since what they were calling 'The Fall', about how they were keeping a log of known Fallens as they showed up in the world, how they were getting as much intel as possible for what Abaddon and Crowley were planning down below. But they didn't talk about Dean. Sam didn't tell Cas how broken Dean was, how he was probably even more broken than Sam knew because Dean never lets on anything, but that Dean was hurting and miserable about what happened with Cas. Cas never told Sam about how he fell and found himself in the middle of nowhere, stripped completely of his powers, but that he could still hear Dean's prayers. He could hear, feel, Dean calling out for him while he lay there on the ground, paralysed and powerless and wanting for nothing more than to fly to Dean, to answer his prayer. Cas didn't say a word about how he got up and walked. Just walked and walked for 11 days because the only thing he could think was Dean, just walked without sleep or food or shelter for 11 days because he needed to get to Dean. Neither of them said a word about Dean.
And then Dean walked in.