Title: Vigil

Rating: PG-13

Fandom/Pairing: SPN, Dean/Castiel

Disclaimer: Not mine

Notes: Follows Control Issues, Milestones and Laugh Lines in a random, loosely canonical verse that is as yet untitled – if you have suggestions, please tell me…

Summary: SPOILERS FOR 5x13 Dean is there when Castiel wakes up.

-

Dean is there when Castiel wakes up.

"Mornin', sleepyhead," he says, and Cas automatically reaches up to touch his hair, to see if it is in any way sleepy.

Dean chuckles, walks over to sit beside Cas. "You were out for pretty long, dude. You okay?"

"Where's Sam?" Cas asks.

"Went and got himself his own room," Dean says. "I think he was trying to be nice."

Cas nods.

"Seriously, you were bleeding and you've been asleep for five hours, Cas. You never sleep."

Cas tilts his head to the side. "I thought you said watching people sleep was strange."

Dean stares at him for a moment, and then says, "You're strange."

"Yes," Cas agrees. "We've established that. What happened?"

Dean shrugs. "Couldn't change the past, got beaten up by your ex-buddies, Michael showed up…"

"Michael?"

"Yeah, you know, big brother? Wearing my dad, actually, and man, was that ever weird."

"Dean, if Michael—"

Dean holds up a hand. "Dude. Michael came, he saved our asses, told us we had no free will and that we were both gonna say yes, he zapped us back here, and that was it. No freaky mind games, no nothing. And since it all happened thirty years ago, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say there's no lead for us to follow, so really, it doesn't matter."

He raises his eyebrows at Cas, daring him to object. Cas doesn't.

"The more important thing for now is you," Dean says.

"Me?" Cas asks hesitantly. He's never been all that important.

"Yeah," Dean says, as if it were obvious.

"Dean, I am fine."

"No, you're not." Dean's voice is tight with anger, and for a moment, Cas doesn't understand. "You were bleeding, Cas. You were bleeding and unconscious and you shouldn't need to be fixed."

"I've told you before, I'm cut off from heaven. I'm losing my grace. I understand that this is not ideal, and if you'd prefer me to stay away, if I'm becoming a liability—"

Cas stops short, or rather, his last words are smothered by Dean's lips against his, Dean's hands grabbing his cheeks and pulling him close.

"You are not a liability," Dean says. "You're…you're my…you're Cas. And you're sticking with us. And you're not going to do that to me again."

"Do what?"

"Get hurt. You're not allowed to get hurt."

Cas leans his forehead against Dean's. "I can hardly help it."

"No more risky angel mojo," Dean says. His eyes are closed, and Cas thinks it's a shame, because up close, Dean's eyes are more than just green, they're a million other colors, and not any minute spent not seeing them is a wasted minute.

"You wanted me to transport you."

"It was stupid. It was a stupid matter of life or death and it didn't change jack shit. Just…promise me you won't hurt yourself for me?"

Cas huffs out an amused sigh against Dean's lips. "Dean," he says, pulling far enough away that he can look into Dean's eyes. "I've already hurt myself for you. I dove into hell to save your soul, I rebuilt you with my own hands, I let heaven punish me for you, I cut open my flesh and used my blood to protect you, I left my home for you, and if that's what it takes, I'll pull every feather out of my wings one by one just so I can stay with you as long as you live." He said it so blankly, so matter-of-factly, that Dean's breath catches in his throat.

"I love you," Dean says. He doesn't say it often, but when he does, it makes Cas's borrowed heart beat faster, and it makes his borrowed stomach fill with butterflies. Dean pulls Cas close again, then, and presses kisses to every available patch of skin, pure luck making him miss Cas's collar and nostrils. "I love you," Dean says again. "I love everything about you and if I don't say it don't ever forget it because I love you, and I don't understand anything about you but I love you."

He keeps saying it, too, over and over as he presses Cas back into the sheets and just kisses him, for all he's worth. There's no ulterior motive, they're both too drained, physically and emotionally, to even be considering sex. This is just Dean, getting lost in affection, getting high on emotion.

They kiss until Cas has struggled out of his trench coat and kicked off his shoes; they kiss until he's pressing Dean back into the mattress, they kiss until their heads grow foggy with too little oxygen and too much exhaustion. They kiss until both their lips are swollen and red, they kiss until Dean has hickeys on his neck and Cas's hair is standing at odd angles from the way Dean likes to run his hands through it. They kiss until they stop; and then they cuddle, though Dean's never ever calling it that.

"I'm tired," Cas says, eventually. It's a novel experience for him.

"Sleep," Dean says. "I'll be right here."

They drift off just like that, Cas's head pillowed on Dean's chest, both of them still fully clothed.

Dean wakes up before Cas does, hours later, but he doesn't move. He just lies there, lightly tracing the lines of Jimmy Novak's sleeping face. "If you're listening," he hears himself whisper, "It's me, God. Dean. And I just wanna say, I'm sorry. If I'm doing this wrong. And I'm sorry for what I did to Cas. And also, thank you, because I sure as hell don't deserve this."

Cas makes a mumbling noise and shifts in his sleep, nose pressed into Dean's breastbone. He lets out a sigh that sounds like pure contentment, and suddenly, Dean wants to cry.

-

Notes: 1) The song stuck in my head while writing this was Matchbox 20's "Downfall". It seems strangely relevant. 2) I had an alternate bunny for post 5x13 fic. What if Cas couldn't make it back to the present and got stuck in the 1970s? What if he then *literally* watched over Dean as he grew up? ...I can't write it. For one, I have no time. For another, I *really* have no time. So, if anyone wants it, it's up for grabs ;)