Quicky AN: Sorry it took me so long with this chapter - I had it ready, but due to a college trip wasn't able to post until now. I hope I havn't been killing anyone with the angst (I was laughing to my sister after the last chapter that I should change the label to 'angst & tradgedy' to which she replied, 'angst & horror!' Hehe... whoops? ;)

Anyway, quick break from the usual angst of the 2014!verse - I hope you like!

It's kind of depressing how much time Cas spends holed up in his cabin, avoiding the rest of the camp. He's lying face down on his bed, trying to ignore the fact that he's in pain, but he'll be okay as soon as the drugs start to kick in. He doesn't even know what he's been taking – not that it really matters though. They do what he needs them to, and that's all that matters.

Dimly, he tries to remember the last time he was actually sober, more out of morbid curiosity than anything else, but he can't and what does it matter? Nothing really matters anymore. Not life, not death, not pain – just Dean. Castiel would be lost without him, would have died a thousand times over…

Or he'd be in heaven. The thought comes unexpectedly even to him. He could be in paradise, but what is paradise without Dean? No, Castiel can't even imagine a place without Dean, no matter how bad things get. Dean's under a lot of pressure, he doesn't mean the things he says – and Cas is still way too sober if he's thinking straight.

He's about to reach for the bottle of pills again when he hears the faint noise of his bead curtain being pushed aside. "Castiel," a soft voice asks, "may I come in?" Dean. He sounds calm, a rare thing nowadays and Castiel doesn't think twice.

"Of course," He tells Dean, rolling onto his side to face him, watching as Dean cautiously makes his way towards the bed, as if Cas is a wild animal and might bolt if he gets too close.

"Oh Cas," Dean sighs, easing himself onto the bed, reaching out slowly to cup Castiel's cheek in his palm. His hands are rough and calloused, but gentle nonetheless, and Castiel leans into the gesture automatically. He must have underestimated the pills if he's getting treated to such amazing hallucinations. "I'm so sorry, you have no idea – oh Cas," His other hand is bandaged up securely, but that doesn't stop him from trailing his fingers over the bruises on Castiel's neck, learning them all over again.

And that's odd, because it looks like he's about to cry, and generally Castiel's hallucinations are a lot happier, not to mention in one piece. "I am so fucking sorry," The hallucination continues, pressing a gentle kiss to the nasty looking bruise over Castiel's other cheek, and he even smells like Dean – smoky and woodsy, with just a little bit of sweat mixed in.

"It's okay Dean," Cas insists, trying to cheer him up, because what good is a hallucination if it's not a good one? "You didn't mean it. Besides I've had worse." He leans forward, trying to capture his Dean's lips in a kiss, but it moves back.

"It's not okay Cas," and now his eyes are full of tears, a single drop escaping to land on Castiel's arm, and wow, that really feels like a tear. Cas collects it on his finger, brings it to his lips, and he can taste the slight saltiness to it. It's real. Dean's real.

"I forgive you Dean, I always will," He insists then, reaching out again for Dean, grabbing his arm so that maybe he'll stay for a little while. Dean could break his grip easily if he really wanted to, but still, it's the thought that counts. "I love you."

Dean's remaining bravado collapses after that, and then he's really crying. "Look what I did to you Cas! Don't tell me it's okay – we both know it's not." He caresses Castiel's cheek with his thumb, but there's still a distance there – a distance in the way he's holding himself, in his eyes, "I'm no good, I don't deserve you, I don't deserve your love."

"Yes you do," Castiel tries to protest, but Dean cuts him off angrily.

"I sent you in to die back there!" Dean growls, his grip tightening uncomfortably, "You all were a distraction, to get killed while I found Lucifer," For a second he looks like he's about to storm off angry, but more and more it's the intense guilt that he's not even trying to conceal.

"We didn't die," Castiel assures him, trying to make Dean see sense and at the same time not think about the implications of what he's admitting to.

"But you should have," Dean continues, obviously not knowing when to shut up, and unable to look Castiel in the eye, "and I didn't care." He can't speak for a moment after that, but nevertheless lifts Castiel's head gently so that their eyes meet again. He's not bothering to hide the pain, the guilt, or the tears that spring from them, and Castiel almost finds himself crying too, because he hates to see Dean cry. Hates it with a burning passion.

"Just – anything to see Sammy again – scares me what 'm willing to do Cas, 's all I can think about. What if I'd been there for him? I pushed him away like an idiot 'cause I couldn't see what I had right in front of me until it was too late, and now I 'm making all the same mistakes! I'm too afraid of losing you Cas – the last good thing I have left – it scares me to no end, but I couldn't live with myself in I hurt you again. I don't want to –never meant to hurt you – Sooner or later you're gonna hate me and,"

"I could never hate you Dean," Castiel interrupts, "Trust me, it's all worth it for you – you're worth it, worth anything. I love you." He says simply.

Dean looks like he might protest, but Castiel leans forwards and silences him with his mouth before he can say anything. "I love you," He repeats, pressing their lips together briefly, "always have," He moves back in so his next words are right against Dean's mouth, "always will."

Dean lets out a soft moan, parting his lips to deepen the kiss. His mouth is soft against Castiel's for once, tender and loving. Then Castiel feels him shift to lie beside him on the bed. And then Dean is really kissing him in earnest. His good hand moves up to cup the back of Castiel's neck, gently pulling him in closer.

Castiel may be a little stiff, but he obliges. This is heaven – here and now – he knows finally. He can feel the wetness of tears on Dean's face as they kiss, but it's all okay now. They're both desperate, both needy, curled up together on Castiel's bed. So Castiel snuggles in as close as he can, savoring this feeling of Dean soft and sweet, and Dean seems to like that idea just as much, lifting his broken hand to rest on Castiel's hip and pulling him even closer.

It's a perfect moment, something that hasn't happened between the two of them in much too long. But maybe it will be like this from now on – just the two of them against the world like it used to be. It will be happy, and gentle and slow. No more beatings, or threats, or torture. Maybe.

It's not long before Castiel's eyelids start to get heavy, lying safe and contented in Dean's arms. The last thing he sees before he drifts off is Dean looking at him with the most emotion Cas has seen from him in years. He smiles softly, pressing a kiss to Castiel's forehead and whispers "I love you Castiel." And maybe there's hope for them yet.

They fall asleep in each other's arms, tangled up in Castiel's blanket – cozy and warm and safe. For once, Castiel isn't afraid of the man lying next to him, doesn't have nightmares. And neither does Dean.