"Cas?" Dean calls, walking through the bunker. He'd thought Cas was in the kitchen, but he isn't there, and Dean's more worried than he cares to admit. He walks into the library where Sam is hunched over some stupid-huge book.
"Have you seen Cas?" he asks,
"I heard the front door about ten minutes ago," Sam replies, smirking, "Why?"
"Because I want to talk to him, Sam." Dean snaps, jaw tensing; because, ever since the incident at the school in Flint that Dean refuses to talk about, Sam seems to have taken it upon himself to remind Dean of it as often as possible.
"Oh?" Sam says, and Dean's never seen him looking so smug, "What about?"
"Shut up." Dean snaps, and turns to leave. He walks along the corridor, trying to control the nerves sluicing through his stomach. He tells himself that Cas wouldn't just leave, not after everything, not when his grace is burning him out from the inside. He does seem content, but old habits die hard, and Cas has a track record of sudden disappearances.
Cas is lying on the hill next to the bunker. He's staring up at the sky and Dean stops, feeling oddly breathless. Cas seems so far away, ethereal and fierce and fucking beautiful, and yet he looks so small, so human, alone on the hill beneath the heavens. Dean walks towards him, quiet and careful, as if Cas will be startled by his presence.
"Hey, Cas," he says, voice gentle.
"Hello, Dean." Cas smiles a little and props himself up on his elbows.
"Mind if I join you?" Dean asks, fists in his jacket pockets.
"Not at all," Cas replies, leaning back. Dean moves slowly; Cas seems happy to see him, but Dean still feels like he's intruding somehow.
"You sure?" Dean asks,
"Of course, Dean," Cas says, rising to look at him, his eyes wide and earnest. Dean moves to lie next to him, as close as he dares, fingers laced together and resting on his chest. He breathes in the cool night air,
"What are you doing out here?" Dean asks,
"Stargazing." Cas replies, "They remind me of Heaven,"
Dean pauses, not sure how to respond. The stars are beautiful, of course, breathtaking even, but they don't hold the same interest for him. If nothing else, they could never compare to the star lying beside him,
"How've you been, man?" Dean asks,
"I don't know. Things have been… difficult, since Hannah left," Cas replies, still staring at the sky. Dean tenses, feels sick, and oh god how had he not realised already?
"Were you and her…?" he trails off, not quite sure how to phrase such an important question. He feels dizzy and out of focus, his heart beating too fast,
"No," Cas replies,
"Did you want that?" Dean asks, fighting to keep his voice even,
"No."
Dean's so overcome with relief he wants to laugh. He relaxes, releasing a tense breath, muscles going slack,
"Just before she left, we ran into her vessel's husband." Cas says, "Her name was Caroline, and her husband had no idea what had happened."
Dean winces, feeling a pang of sorrow for the guy.
"Damn," he whispers,
"Hannah told him that she and I were together, in the hope that he would leave," Cas continues, not really registering Dean's words, "It worked, eventually. He left, and we continued on our journey," Cas finally turns to face him, staring with his too blue eyes,
"But?" Dean asks
"She said that she had thought she was learning how to be human, how to experience emotion, but her feelings were nothing to what her vessel felt when she saw Caroline's husband," Cas says, staring at his hands, at the way the tendons shift under his skin as he moves his fingers,
"She didn't think it was fair on Caroline to stay," Dean says for him. He watches Cas' hands, and tries not to think too hard about what those hands could do, the way those hands could touch him.
"Yes," Cas confirms, "She said that the humans were our original mission, and it was about time we put them first," Cas' voice cracks a little, and he seems utterly fascinated with his hands, and Dean realises that Cas is studying them, examining the way he controls and moves his borrowed hands, and fuck, fuck fuck fuck! Cas is gonna leave. He's gonna leave his body and go back to Heaven and leave Dean.
"Do you think she's right?" Dean asks, careful, so careful, because Cas can't know how much this matters to Dean. He can't be influenced in this decision.
"I don't know." Cas replies, "But I know I don't want to leave,"
Dean's snaps his eyes to Cas' face,
"Maybe it's different for me," Cas muses, gazing into the sky once more, "This isn't my body, but it's not anyone else's either." he says, and Dean blinks, remembering Jimmy Novak and the sacrifice he'd made.
"Are you gonna leave?" Dean blurts out, and fuck, he's fucked up, he can see it on Cas' face.
"Do you want me to?" Cas asks,
"No," he says, and his voice is husky and thin, so he says it again, louder, "I want you to stay," and there, he's said it, and now it's up to Cas.
"Hannah said that angels weren't designed to feel human emotions, that we couldn't," Cas says, and his voice is suddenly bitter, angry.
"What do you think?" Dean whispers, breath hitching,
"When I was human, my emotions were… different," Cas says, "They were more demanding, more physical, but no more intense than they were before. Or now," Cas looks at him then, with such intensity and sincerity that Dean can't breathe. Cas is gazing up at him through his eyelashes, and Dean's body aches, screams that he needs to kiss Cas right the fuck now, and he can't stop himself. He leans forward, presses his lips against Cas', just for a second, and then he realises what he's done,
"Fuck, Cas, I'm so-"
"Shut up," Cas says, and then he's kissing him, really kissing him, one hand bunching in Dean's shirt and the other resting on his cheek. Dean freezes for a moment, too surprised to respond, and then he lets out a small, muffled groan and chases Cas' mouth like a drowning man chasing air. Maybe he is. Maybe he always has been, but now Cas is here and with him and kissing him and Dean finally feels like he can breathe. He pulls Cas towards him, on top of him, wrapping his arms around him so tightly that he can almost touch his own ribs. Cas pushes a hand into Dean's hair, the other resting on Dean's left shoulder, and even though the handprint is long gone, Dean can feel a surge of warmth from the place it used to be, and Cas kisses him and kisses him and kisses him.
When Cas pulls away, Dean almost whines. Cas looks down at him, smiling his little smile, staring at him with such reverence that Dean doesn't know where to look.
"What?" he asks, smiling a little, and Cas doesn't respond, just traces the line of Dean's cheekbone with his fingertips, lingering on his freckles. "What are you doing?" he asks, his face flushing where Cas touches him.
"Stargazing."
