Disclaimer: see chapter one
Chapter Three
"Dean!" The screen door slammed behind Sam as he followed his brother outside moments after Dean's outburst in the living room. Sam paused and scanned the immediate area but Dean was, of course, nowhere in sight. That was fine, Sam already knew where he would find his brother. He steered himself toward the Impala where it was parked further out into the scrapyard.
Sam found Dean predictably perched on the hood of his car, beer in hand. He took a moment to reign in his frustration with his brother, inhaling deeply before he joined Dean. Dean's eyes flickered toward him then away again as Sam stared at him, awaiting some sort of explanation. After it became obvious that Dean was doing his best to ignore him, Sam said, "You're a real jackass, you know that?"
Dean didn't spare Sam even the slightest glance as he lifted his beer to take a short pull. "Not now, Sammy."
"Dean," Sam said again, infusing his tone with warning. Dean glared at Sam in the way that he did when he meant drop it or I'll drop you. Sam huffed in even more frustration, and knew that he was bordering on annoyance now. "Dude, we're gonna talk this out. Whether you want to or not."
"What's the point?" Dean queried.
That pulled Sam up short and taken aback, he stared quizzically at his brother. "Huh?"
Dean drew another pull of beer, watching Sam carefully as he sorted through the words he wanted to say. Finally, Dean responded, "I don't really see the point in talking about any of this, dude. It's not like I don't already know what the guy's going through, y'know?" Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam who watched him impassively, silently encouraging Dean to continue. Dean sighed, "I get it, okay? I was a dick to Cas."
"Dean, some of the things you said..." Sam murmured gently.
"I know, Sam." Yeah, okay, Dean felt...bad. He regretted saying some of those things, because some of them were really just mean. It had been obvious in every flinch of Castiel's face, every brief expression of despair. Those blue eyes had been more hurt than angry, and he knew that he was basically a dirtbag but he really couldn't help himself. Some of that had been building up for the last couple months, and especially since Castiel had been in his confessional of holy fire, delivering his sinful admission to him. He got mean when he was angry, more out of necessity than anything else. The best defense was a good offense, after all, and he couldn't stand to be hurt by people he was close to, that he thought he should be able to trust. He thought he should have probably already learned this lesson once, with Sam.
Sam saw the emotions chasing each other over Dean's expression, and knew the turmoil his brother must have felt. He watched for the moment when Dean's face twitched, and stood back as Dean suddenly swung back his arm and hurled the beer bottle across the yard. "Damn it," Dean growled to himself, then scrubbed a hand over his eyes.
Sam waited for a beat, watching Dean struggle to collect himself, and finally prompted, "Dean, maybe we should go inside."
Dean slid off the Impala, the car rocking slightly as it adjusted, and released a sigh of frustration. "I know," he sighed. "You're probably right."He said this slowly, as if in disbelief that he was actually agreeing with his he added with a slight shake of his head, "I just...can't yet. I need a few minutes. Need to clear my head." Sam continued to observe Dean in silence. Dean sighed again, this time in resignation. "Look, I'm gonna stay out here and give my baby a once-over, okay?"
Sam sighed, but nodded in assent. He turned to leave, and then remembered that he wanted to ask Dean something. Turning back to his brother, Sam met Dean's curious expression. Sam studied him for a beat, then scrunched his nose in the thoughtful but uncomfortable way he did sometimes when he was about to ask something Dean didn't want to talk about. "So, um. What does it feel like?"
Dean gave him a look. "What, having a full-blast care'n'share with the ex-angel who temporarily suffered a god complex?" he snarked, then added, "Peachy, Sammy." Dean sighed before he continued, "He has all these weird reactions to everything because I guess all of it's too new for him to know how to deal with it." He paused for a moment. "To tell you the truth, I'm not really sure how to deal with it all, either."
A long but not uncomfortable silence passed. Then Sam nodded his understanding. "Okay." He wished there was more he could do for Dean, but he knew better than to keep pestering his brother. Dean had to process through some of this on his own. "I guess I'll leave you to it." Sam shifted a look onto the Impala. Then he smirked and added, "Jerk."
Dean glanced up at him and smirked slightly before he nodded. Sam turned and walked back toward the house. He hadn't quite made it out of earshot when he heard Dean chuckle lightly and call, "See you later, bitch!"
Dean watched Sam leave, then grew quiet as he thought back on some of the things he said to Castiel. The first thing he lingered on was how he had compared Cas to his brothers. It didn't even take a minute for Dean to realize how wrong he was to say something like that. Sure, Castiel made some mistakes but he helped Dean, Sam, and Bobby whenever he could, whenever it really mattered. Hell, Castiel had already proven that he was still with Team Free Will by releasing the souls from Purgatory the way he did. Dean shifted through the argument, mind rolling over all the hurtful words he said. The weird bond allowed him to feel some of the lingering pain and regret Castiel was experiencing, and Dean's stomach rolled with discomfort to the point where he thought he may be sick.
He thought about some of the accusations Castiel made, and realized that they weren't entirely false. Every time he called the ex-angel over the last year, he showed very little interest in Castiel or how he was doing. He realized that he never really concerned himself with his friend, partially because to Dean Castielwas always unstoppable and partially because Dean had been too busy worrying about Sam to deal with Cas and his issues. He had been selfish, neglectful. God, how could he have neglected his best friend so much for so long? He told Cas that he was family, but Dean wasn't even sure what that meant. He never exactly treated Castiel like he treated his family and he knew that. But he didcare about the former angel, cared for him like a brother. He just really didn't know how to show it to the newly-Fallen angel. He started to think about how he treated Castiel when he, Sam, and Bobby had interrogated him in the ring of holy fire. He realized that Cas was right again, and that he hadn't really listened to anything the angel had to say then.
"You don't believe me."
Of course he didn't, and why should he? "I don't believe a word that's coming outta your mouth." Dean turned toward the angel, and smirked at him condescendingly. He felt a strange twist of satisfaction when Cas—Castiel, no longer just Cas—flinched and glanced away from him.
When Castiel met his eyes again, Dean felt his stomach twist again—now with regret at the hard look in the angel's eyes. "I thought you said that we were like family. Well, I think that too. Shouldn't trust run both ways?"
And Dean wished that he could agree. But there was far, far too much anger and hurt and betrayal now between them for him to do anything other than balk at the notion. "Cas, I just can't."
"Dean, I do everything that you ask." Castiel was pleading now, and the idea of his friend needing to plead with him stung sharply. "I always come when you call. And I am your friend. Still. Despite your—lack of faith in me, and now your threats. I just saved you. Yet again. Has anyone but your closest kin ever done more for you?"
Dean glanced away. He hadn't missed the hitch in Castiel's words.
"All I ask is this one thing," Castiel said then.
Mistrustingly, Dean replied, "Trust your plan to pop Purgatory?"
"I've earned that, Dean."
And maybe he had. Dean wasn't sure. He wasn't sure if he could have done better at listening to Castiel. He wondered if his friend had a point about the souls from Purgatory, and if he should have considered Castiel's words more carefully. Maybe if he had, this whole thing would have gone differently. Dean sighed as he realized, he should have been better. He should have been a better friend, a better brother. He should have trusted Cas.
He lingered on these thoughts, and it didn't take long for Bobby to find him there, boots scuffing enough in the dirt to let Dean know who was skulking up behind him. Dean nodded at him, and turned his attention back to the engine. He thought about how Bobby hung back with Cas after he and Sam left, and wondered out loud, "How's he doing?"
A second later, Dean bowed under a gentle but firm cuff to the back of his head. "That is the dumbest question you could've asked, boy. He ain't up there singing Kumbaya, if that's what you're askin'."
Dean tensed for a second, halfway through tightening a bolt. A moment later, he released a breath and straightened to turn to Bobby, hands moving restlessly, helplessly. "God, Bobby, some of the things I said to him were so..."
"Mean?" Bobby suggested, raising an eyebrow. "Unkind? Untrue?"
Dean's mouth worked, but no sound emerged. After a moent, he rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly and nodded. He felt like a five-year-old kid, pushing a toe through the dirt and studying his shoes while his father chided him.
Bobby scoffed at him, and it sounded fond. "Look, I've already said my piece to Cas. Now I'm going to tell you: the only thing keeping that boy from being an actual Winchester is his heritage and the fact that he adopted a body that ain't blood-related. I already told you once, though, family don't end at blood. Cas has made his mistakes and has done things that hurt us all. But even given that, that idgit's still gone above and beyond for you time and again and you said that before." When Dean made to interrupt, Bobby glared at him again and said, "I'm only telling you this once, Dean. You ain't had much of an opportunity in your life to make friends. Don't lose the best one you got."
He reached up, squeezed Dean's shoulder. "Now, don't you have something more important to be doing than working on the car?" He raised both brows pointedly, and patted Dean on the shoulder once more in silent encouragement. Then Bobby disappeared into the house, mumbling about growing lady-parts. He glared over his shoulder at Dean to make sure that the elder Winchester was following.
Dean went with Bobby into the house. He ignored the look that Bobby and Sam exchanged, some mixture of triumph and smugness that Dean just plain didn't like. Sam seemed to be book-diving into every possible resource Bobby had on bonds of souls and how to break spiritual connections that intruded a bit too much for either side's liking. Sam's eyes moved from Bobby to Dean, and his baby brother gave a small smile that left Dean feeling (and he would never admit this even under the greatest duress) warm and comforted; he was kind of glad Sam knew him so well.
But that was only the first step. Dean started to feel a little antsy as his eyes scanned the room. There was no sign of Castiel. Dean wetted his lips, and pondered what he might say to his friend when he saw him. Not like he hadn't apologized before, but he realized that he never really had to apologize like this to Cas. Sure, the odd sorry here or there when Cas had been losing his Grace during the Apocalypse-that-wasn't, but never a hey, look I know I suck and I can be a real jerk but can you forgive me because I'm kinda maybe really sorry.
Dean was thinking about asking Sam for advice or even biting the bullet and asking Sam to talk with him about their freaky girly-feelings when the creak of the stairs alerted him and his companions to Castiel making his way down. Dean frowned again and turned to the staircase to see the ex-angel moving down the stairs; when he saw Dean, Castiel's steps slowed with hesitance and caution. Dean swallowed the lump forming in his throat as he saw a flash of hurt in Castiel's eyes before they fell to the floor. Dean spared Sam a glance, and his brother met his eyes. After a moment, with compassion and understanding in his gaze, Sam smiled slightly and gave Dean an encouraging nod.
Silence stretched out, and Castiel kept his gaze fixed to the floor as his brow wrinkled suddenly. Dean watched as Castiel picked his way to the couch and sat, one hand coming up to rub at his temple absently.
"Hey, Cas," Sam said, concerned, "how're you feeling, man?"
Castiel's fingertips massaged against his temple for another long moment, and he sighed as he seemed to think of a way to respond to Sam's question. Concerned, Dean asked, "Your head bothering you?" Ever since Dr. Robert mentioned brain trauma, Dean had been kicking himself for not thinking about it. If Cas showed any signs now...
"Yes," Castiel admitted, eyes widening slightly as he shot a look toward Dean. Surpised, Dean realized, surprised at the source of concern and Dean wanted to kick himself so hard. Then Castiel fixed him with a bland look and stated matter-of-factly, "You are...making my head ache, Dean."
Dean balked at that, jaw going slack. "I'm giving you a headache?" he repeated incredulously, furrowing his brow.
"Yes. Your emotions are..." Castiel gave his head a light shake, and left it at that. Dean didn't miss Bobby clearing his throat to cover what might have been a chuckle and Sam covering his smirk by rubbing one hand over his mouth, but he himself still felt confused. He couldn't think of anything to say to that, and another long, awkward silence ensued. Soon enough, Sam gave Dean an impatient look and a small sigh, and rolled his eyes fondly. Dean opened his mouth as though to respond to Sam's look, then quickly changed his mind and focused his gaze on the ceiling.
"Right. So, Cas," Sam said, turning to the resident expert on all things supernatural, "I've been working on resarching this soul bond thing to try and find a cure, 'cause I knowyou don't wanna be binded emotionally to my brother for too long." Castiel and Dean exchanged a glance. Dean saw Sam smile as he caught the glance, and Dean focused on him to ignore the uncomfortable way Castiel continued to stare at him. "You mind helping me out here?"
Castiel averted his attention from Dean to Sam, and the small smile he gave the younger Winchester confirmed the relief he felt. Castiel relaxed slightly, the tension bleeding from his shoulders so he no longer resembled a statue. Dean grabbed a beer, and settled in at Bobby's desk to listen while Sam grilled Castiel on all he knew about the connection between angel and charge. Dean listened keenly, finding it easier to focus now that he wasn't blinded by anger.
Some of Sam's questions were really to-the-point, Sam being a master-researcher and all. Others? Were kind of weird. "So you and Dean are basically Siamese twins without the physicalconnection," Sam commented, and somehow it wasn't a question but Castiel answered anyway, face all scrunched up in confusion.
"Sam, don't be absurd. Dean is an American and so was Jimmy before I inherited his body. I, of course, am not of this world at all. Nothing about this is ´Siamese'," Castiel said, so seriously that Dean almost snorted into his beer. Sam gave Castiel a look like he somehow forgot Cas was a freak of nature, and moved on with the questioning.
By the time they finished, Bobby and Sam both had enough notes to fill entire notebooks. Forget Crowley; Dean had his very own Geek Squad to find the answers they needed. It turned out that once Dean became Castiel's charge the bond was forged in order to give Castiel access to Dean's emotions beyond the baseline so that he could better protect and nurture Dean (and Dean didn't want to think about how weird that sounded so he didn't). Castiel never took an opportunity to open up the bond to its full potential the way that Crowley had, citing that he never wanted to intrude on Dean's privacy which Dean appreciated. Castiel began to grow tense again as he described all of this, and Dean noticed that the ex-angel didn't look him in the face the whole time he was talking.
"There may be something we can do, not so much a cure but a way to sever the connection," Castiel said sometime later, looking surprised as though he just realized the solution himself. That made Dean feel a little better, knowing that Castiel didn't intentionally omit a possible cure to their little problem. Sam encouraged Castiel to continue with the flick of a wrist, and Castiel elaborated, "The source of the bond is my Grace, and the source of my mark on Dean is also my Grace. Perhaps, if I can siphon the Grace from Dean..."
"...You can break the connection," Dean finished for him. Castiel, still not meeting Dean's gaze, stared at the floor and nodded. Dean rolled his shoulders. "Hey, I'm down. If, y'know, you can siphon the Grace outta me. Gotta say, don't much like carrying around a chunk of angel mojo."
Sam seemed cautious. "What would you have to do?" he asked Castiel.
Castiel thought the process through, brow pinched. "It would not be difficult, or overly taxing. I would simply have to touch the mark I left on Dean and call my Grace from it. It might require using a sigil, but my Grace should still recognize me and want to return to me. Once I've pulled all the Grace back, Dean and I should be rid of...each other." It was obvious that Castiel was trying (and failing) to make a joke of some sort, so Sam smiled at him.
"Sounds relatively simple," Bobby commented. "When do you think you can do this, Feathers?"
"I should be able to do it immediately, if Dean is willing," Castiel said, and Dean caught and held his eyes for several beats as Castiel silently asked for permission. Dean smiled at the continued eye contact, and nodded his consent.
"All right, then, boy." Bobby gave Dean a questioning look. "Ready to do this?"
"No." Dean didn't realize that he spoke the word aloud until all three of his companions gave him strange looks. He returned them all, settling his gaze last on Castiel. "Before we do that, you and me gotta..." He gritted his teeth, looking almost pained at this prospect. "We gotta talk."
"Dean, we have been conversing for quite awhile," Castiel pointed out in puzzlement.
Dean sighed, "No, I mean. Just. Guys, can we have a couple of minutes, here?" He directed a glance at Sam and Bobby. Both of them smirked, but obligingly started to make their way from the room. Castiel stared after them in barely-muted concern, nonplussed. After Dean listened to both hunters exiting the back of the house, he turned back to Castiel and huffed out a breath, "So." He cleared his throat awkwardly, and his resolve began to wither under the silent stare Castiel fixed upon him.
Dean struggled to find something to say, and after several moments, Castiel sighed. "Dean, this isn't necessary."
"Huh?" Dean blinked at him.
Castiel said patiently, "I know you are not fond of...sharing your feelings. You have no need. But there is something I would like to say—"
"You're nothing like them," Dean blurted suddenly. Castiel stared at Dean silently, waiting for him to continue. Dean elaborated on a sigh, "Your frat brothers. You aren't like them. That...was just me being a jerk."
Castiel lowered his head for a brief moment, considering Dean's statement. Then, he looked up to meet Dean's gaze. "I was also...unfair to you." He squared his shoulders, eyes apologetic. "I have never regretted our friendship, Dean."
Something about the way he said it bolstered Dean's newfound resolve, and at the same time relieved him in a profound way. "Well...good," Dean said, smiling slightly. "'Cause that would kinda suck."Dean took in a deep breath, and released it slowly. "Cas, I should have treated you better," he said quickly, getting it out in a rush. "I should have trusted you, man. I can't even imagine how things might have been different if I'd shown you even an ounce of the faith you've always shown me."
Castiel's expression shifted, now full of remorse. "Dean, I don't know how to make up for...everything that I have done. It was never my intent to—"
"I know that, Cas," Dean interrupted, motioning one hand. "I know you did what you thought was right. You made mistakes, but then again, you were right about me making some of those myself. I kinda suck at the whole friend thing. I mean, how many friends do I really have?" He laughed hollowly, and gave Castiel an appraising look. "Dude, psychiatrists would kill to have us in a case study." Castiel gave him an amused look, and nodded. Dean continued uneasily, "Sooo...we're good here? I mean, we don't have to do like Sammy and hug it out?"
Castiel gave him a puzzled look. "We can do that if you wish it, Dean."
"No," Dean said quickly. "No need for that."
Seemingly satisfied with this, Castiel gave a small smile. "Then yes, I believe we are good, as you say."
"Good, 'cause I honestly don't think I can stand too much more of this touchy-feely crap with my manhood intact," Dean said on a shudder.
"Perhaps," Castiel said hesitantly, "a handshake would suffice?"
"A handshake?" Dean echoed incredulously.
"It seems fitting," Castiel replied earnestly.
"Wow, Cas. Way to shuck off the training wheels," Dean teased good-naturedly. He hesitated for a moment, then extended his hand. "I think I can deal with that," he smirked. Castiel looked pleased, and gripped Dean's hand tight. Dean valiantly didn't flinch as he returned the firm grip.
Castiel stood in the living room with Dean, Sam, and Bobby. It was mostly for the purpose of comfort, Castiel thought. Sam joined his side, and asked, "You ready, Cas?"
Castiel glanced toward Dean in silent query. Dean nodded, and Castiel redirected his gaze to Sam again. "Yes."
"Okay." Sam carried a black Sharpie that he held up now. "Do you want me to—" He gestured toward Castiel's shirt. "—draw the sigil for you?" It was fortunate that the sigil was minor enough in Enochian magic that it required only hard lines of ink and not the sacrifice of blood to activate the ancient magic.
Castiel thought about it, then nodded gratefully and unbuttoned his shirt. He was careful as he pulled the shirt open, the soreness from each bruise there still threatening to cloud his senses. Crowley had been merciless, truly, but Castiel was still confused by the sight of the bruising even now. He didn't remember Crowley doing this much damage, seemed to remember all of it healing. His hesitation caught Sam's attention, and the younger hunter said, "Cas?"
Castiel glanced up to meet the curious stares of his companions. "I have been wondering what these are from," he admitted, glancing down at the display of bruises in various shades.
Sam bit the corner of his lip as he responded, "When we finally got to you, you weren't breathing and you didn't have a pulse." Sam glanced sidelong toward Dean, who shifted his gaze to stare at the middle distance over Castiel's shoulder. "We had to do CPR to bring you back. And it got pretty hairy after awhile, when we weren't sure you were coming back..." Castiel was hopeless with pop culture, but he understood the basics of human first aid and therefore recognized the term CPR. He nodded, and a small smile stole over Sam's expression before he continued. "But of course, Dean never gave up on you even when Bobby and I asked him to let you go." From the glare Dean shot at Sam and the sharp flare of dislike Castiel felt through their bond, it was obvious that Dean did not appreciate Sam saying this. Sam seemed to have thought it important, however, and Castiel was glad for the words as he turned an intent stare onto Dean.
"I," Castiel started, then shook himself slightly. "Thank you for coming for me," he said, meeting each gaze before him before sharing a lingering look with Dean. He tried to think of a way to thank Dean for his persistence and for not abandoning him but Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably before the ex-angel could find the words to express his gratitude.
"Don't mention it, Cas," Dean said gruffly. He then moved to help Bobby clear some books and loose documents out of the area as Sam carefully traced the sigil onto Castiel's chest, right over his heart.
When they were all ready, Castiel seated himself beside Dean on the couch. Dean grimaced slightly, obviously uncomfortable with the entire situation, then rolled up his sleeve to reveal the handprint there. Castiel gradually brought his hand to fit it perfectly against its replica on Dean's arm.
The sigil tingled now, reacting to the power of his Grace hidden inside his friend's scarred shoulder, and Dean gasped as the handprint itself started to warm with the flow of Grace. Castiel focused on the Grace, traced the outline of its light in his mind before he formed a tight grip on it and pulled. The sensation was, at first, overwhelming and the breath was knocked from Castiel's lungs as the feeling of holy righteousness sank through him. It was the feeling of might that he had come to associate with his angelic nature, though even this tiny bit of Grace would not fully restore him to his former self.
Castiel felt lost even as he sensed the Grace pushing its way from Dean back home tohis chest, rolling through him like a wave of something warm and wholesome like home. Castiel felt disjointed, sensed the bond between himself and Dean ease back to its original form as the sharing of his emotions with Dean dimmed. He had the Grace again to sense Dean's and Sam's and Bobby's emotions even without any sort of bond there, but it didn't seem to help despite the fact that his companions felt nothing but regard and relief at the moment.
Suddenly, every memory from the last several years and far beyond filled Castiel's vision. He saw time when the concept of it was created. He saw Lucifer, the beautiful Morningstar, turning his back on his brothers and their Father. He heard Lucifer's words pour over the light of Heaven, "When I come back, I will be a better Father than you ever were."
He saw a park bench like a confessional between himself and his charge. "Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul? I am not a...hammer, as you say. I have doubts..."
He saw Zachariah peering down on him in disgust, commanding in a growl, "You will serve no man. You are an instrument of Heaven, an agent of Fate. You answer to Heaven, not to Dean Winchester. There is no room for doubt. You will obey, or suffer."
He saw the Apocalypse and he saw its end. He saw the suffering of two boys by two archangels as he lifted them to safety. He saw his realization several months later that he had been mistaken about bringing Sam back in one piece. He saw Adam letting go of his ties to Earth and choosing the sanctuary Heaven offered.
He saw Balthazar scoffing at his dream to end the war. "It will never stop!"
He saw Rachel asking, "Is it true?"
He saw Dean demanding answers. "You got to look at me man, look me in the eye and tell me you aren't working with Crowley!"
He saw every decision he made that has led him here, and he heard himself saying, "I am so sorry."
Castiel looked up, met Dean's eyes as the last bit of Grace was transferred from hunter to former-angel. Castiel saw that every emotion he was feeling had been echoed back to Dean, saw it in the way Dean's face pinched as though he could cry. Castiel drowned in guilt and pain and doubt, and he rose suddenly from the couch and turned away as his eyes burned with a new feeling he suddenly knew as embarrassment. Surprised, Dean and the others exchanged a glance and the elder Winchester asked, "Cas?"
Castiel's throat clicked as he swallowed. Heat stabbed at his eyes, and he could barely get the words out when he choked out, "It is done."
Behind him, Dean recognized the hoarse quality to Castiel's voice and he could sympathize with the feeling. He knew what it was like to struggle to maintain his composure while fighting back the urge to cry, and he knew what triggered this in his friend. He rose and carefully walked up to Castiel. Despite his discomfort doing so, he placed a firm hand upon his friend'sshoulder. "Hey—Cas, it's okay, man," he said, aware that Sam and Bobby were watching.
Castiel reluctantly turned and met Dean's gaze, and Dean was shocked when he saw the ex-angel's eyes were red-rimmed and bright blue. He never saw Cas cry, never even thought his friend was even capable of it until now. But Castiel was human nowand he came a long way from the seemingly-emotionless angel who first walked into that barn in Pontiac so yeah, Castiel was capable of crying now.
"I-I'm sorry, I don't," Castiel stammered, and then he made a soft choking sound. It was so foreign to Castiel that it surprised him when he realized it was a sob. Then it happened a second time. Dean grabbed Castiel by both shoulders, and the ex-angel let go. He sobbed helplessly, knees suddenly too weak to hold him up as he collapsed. Dean stumbled as he caught his friend and helped to lower him to the floor. Bobby and Sam were still nearby, gazes soft with empathy before Bobby touched Sam's shoulder and tilted his head to gesture that they give Castiel some privacy. With a nod of agreement, Sam followed Bobby out. Dean continued to rub Castiel's back and shoulders, trying to be compassionate despite his discomfort with the situation. He was familiar with this routine, acting out the part of the comforter just as he had done with Sam after Jessica's death. He knew that Castiel had a lot to cry about and he was a few years overdue, and Dean wouldn't hold this against him.
"Dean, I—" Castiel sobbed, and Dean's heart throbbed with each sob that shook his friend's frame.
"Y'know, my dad used to tell us that real men don't cry," Dean said thoughtfully, and Castiel tensed as he listened. Dean continued to comfortingly rub Castiel's shoulder as he went on, "Gotta say, though. After forty years in Hell, I think my dad never realized how unhealthy that can be." Castiel shifted, realizing that though he was embarrassed, he was also safe with Dean. He could trust Dean not to condemn him for this vulnerability. "It's all right, Cas. You've had a crappy coupla years."
The tears flowed more easily now and Castiel sobbed freely, giving in and letting himself get lost inside the emotional release his body ached for. He surrendered everything that he had let build up for so long. His guilt...his pain...his regrets. And Castiel put his complete trust in Dean at that moment, and was determined not to let that trust ever waver again.
And Dean knew that if their friendship could survive the crapstorm they'd lived through so far, then it was safe to say they could beat pretty much anything else that came at them.
It had been three days since the Grace transfer, and except for the occasional concerned and sympathetic glances he received from Bobby or Sam, no one mentioned anything about Castiel's breakdown. It seemed to Castiel that it was one of those things that they weren't supposed to bring up, and he was satisfied with that. He was also completely healed now, with help from the last bit of Grace he had pulled back from Dean. Castiel was in the guest room, fresh from the shower. He thought about the difficulty he had dressing at the hospital after he'd turned human the first time. He remembered how he had tied his tie backwards and how he had wished to ask Dean to help him put it to rights afterward.
Castiel was more well-practiced at dressing now, and he chuckled as he realized he was having the same issue as he did in the hospital. The white button-down and black slacks Bobby had purchased for him a few days ago were very similar to his former ensemble, and he liked these clothes. They were comfortable and familiar. He wasn't sure why Bobby had purchased them, but he suspected there may be some sentimental reason behind it.
It was the tie that he was still strugglingwith, and he fiddled with it now, frowning at the mirror as he tried to remember how to knot it.
"Guess you need to learn a thing or two about variety."
Castiel started, and turned to find Dean leaning in the doorway. He blinked at the hunter. "Variety?" he echoed.
Dean smiled, "Yeah, Cas, variety. Now that you're human, it's okay to try something new in the clothing department. Y'know, less Holy Tax Accountant and more Grunge Rocker." At Castiel's confused frown, Dean smirked and suggested, "You could borrow some of my old clothes, if you like. Just until you're feeling a little more adventurous."
Castiel pondered Dean for a moment. "Perhaps I will. However, I would like to keep these clothes for now."
Dean shook his head fondly. "Whatever, man." He glanced at the trench coat. "So Sam and Bobby may have found us a lead. Looks like demonic activity down south. They think we might be able to get a location on Crowley. I know it's a little soon, but if you're up to it...we were wondering if you wanted to tag along."
"I would like that," Castiel agreed. He was beginning to learn that there were little ways Dean showed acceptance and camaraderie in their familial unit—and requests that Castiel help them work a job, not as an angel but as a human, were very important.
Dean grinned. "Good." He saw Castiel struggling with his tie, and with a slight sigh he moved to assist Castiel with the cumbersome silk. He straightened it against Castiel's collar and tightened the knot at Castiel's neck. When he finished, Castiel glanced down at the tie and nodded his gratitude at Dean. He looked back into the mirror, and frowned. Something was missing.
After a moment, Dean picked up on Castiel's unease. He reached behind him, and snatched up the trench coat. "Here," he said, handing the trench coat to his friend. "I think you're missing this."
Castiel took the coat with another grateful nod, and pulled it on. The lapels were skewed and the coat settled rumpled on Castiel's shoulders. With another sigh, Dean reached to straighten the ex-angel out, smoothing the fabric over his shoulders and straightening the lapels. It was a little awkward, but Dean was getting used to feeling a little awkward these days.
"Thank you," Castiel smiled slightly.
"Yeah, don't mention it," Dean replied.
Castiel relaxed at the sight of his reflection, feeling more comfortable now. He thought about the being he had once been, fresh in a vessel after two thousand years and completely oblivious to the many facets of humanity. He had grown a lot since then. Castiel had seen many changes, had experienced doubt and gained humanity, all under the weight of this trench coat. He was now more human than he had ever been, and he couldn't say he regretted any of it.
Dean considered him for a long beat. "I was kind of worried you were done with this old thing," he said quietly. "I would've missed the Columbo get-up. Gotta admit, it's good to see you donning the armor again."
Castiel stared at Dean a moment, head tilted to one side in confusion, Then, his expression cleared as he realized his armor would now be used in the defense of his human family and the exploration of his human life. He smiled. "I believe I have a new reason to be."
