AN: I know it's short, but I'm getting sick so this is written inbetween lulls of headaches...
ENJOY
Dean has no clue what's going on with the man in his arms; sure he knows the kids in a dark place right now and he'd give anything to be able to steal away that pain. However, he would think that some part of him would be relieved that his mom wouldn't be able to hurt him anymore. It was shocking to say the least to wake up to the sound of quiet sobs and a question to a god that Dean never fully believed in, especially given the circumstances.
He felt completely helpless as Cas's shoulders shook and tears accumulated on the soft fabric of Dean's shirt. There was words he could say, but they all died on his tongue. That was something he didn't want to give to Castiel, empty promises that it would all work out and everything would be fine; because who the fuck knew. Despite what Cas had said in the letter, Dean did feel partially to blame for the circumstances that lead them here. If had just recognized the signs and not been so caught up in dealing with his own shit or how this person was making him feel.
Castiel didn't need that right now, he thought, Dean would deal with that latter. What mattered now was reassembling the pieces of this broken teenager. Stroking his back comfortingly, Cas's breathing seemed to slow and the sobbing stop.
"Hey," Dean whispers, pushing the hair off of Cas forehead as his large blue eyes met his. Again he wanted to say so many things, but the words all seemed fake and empty, "I'm here," he told him firmly.
Those simple words where all he could breathe out, they weren't false and held more underlying meaning than anything else he could have said. No matter how obvious a statement it may have been.
Castiel simply nodded at him, pain still evident in his eyes, "I'm so sorry," he breathes against Dean's chest.
Dean's taken aback as he tightens his hold around the boy, "How many times do I have to tell you…you have nothing to be sorry for," he assures him as he hears a sniffle.
"I've… done things…" he starts mysteriously, "While all you've done is been perfect."
"You think I'm perfect?" Dean smirks, trying for humor before sobering. "I'm not Cas, no one is."
There's silence again, Dean hoping his words sink into the beautiful mess that he's trying his best to help.
"I'd like to be alone, please," Cas tells him robotically, turning out of Dean's embrace.
"Um… yeah, alright," he nods awkwardly as he slips off the bed, "I'll be out here." Dean motions to Castiel's back before slipping from the room.
After everything was settled Castiel ended up staying with Pastor Jim, the situation probably wasn't ideal; but Dean knew that it would be a great help. Cas was still going to the Thursday thing, but it was really just Dean and him spending time together; which they did more and more frequently. He was required to go to therapy twice a week and until the legal stuff was decided his mom was somewhere she would get help and not be able to hurt anyone.
It was working out fairly well, but Dean had this feeling like Castiel was just putting on an act. Pretending everything wasn't as bad as it really was, he knew he had to get him to open up about it. Till then he was taking it one day at a time.
"So how's living at Pastor Jim's?" Dean asks while they're sitting at the park, despite the chilly weather.
"Different," Cas supplies, looking out over the field.
"He still force you to make your bed every morning and chat over milk and cookies?" He smirks at his own, now fond, memories of his time with the Pastor.
The dark haired boy smirks a little at that, "Yes, it's like living with FDR and his fireside chats."
"Don't tell Jim that," Dean warns jokingly, "He might get out his wooden chair."
"It wouldn't surprise me," Cas rubs his hands together distractedly.
"We should probably get going… it's freezing out here."
"Hmm…" he hums.
"Come on, Pastor Jim will have my ass if I let you get sick," Dean helps Cas to his feet and slings an arm over his shoulder.
Cas stops abruptly, turning a pressing a quick kiss to Dean's lips. The act should have been odd, but he had gotten used to the random displays of affection that the kid would throw at him. Dean stopped him gently before he could walk away, deepening the kiss and extracting a soft thrum of pleasure from the dark haired boy then ending it as quickly as it started.
"You doing alright?" Dean questions softly, their foreheads pressed together as he searches the cobalt recesses of Cas's eyes.
"I'm dealing," He offers cryptically leading Dean towards the Impala, "Let's get back before I miss curfew."
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