Warnings: This chapter contains profanity, explicit sex (m/m pairing), some discussion of homophobia including offensive language, and a detailed description of a panic attack.
This chapter is set during 5.21: "Two Minutes to Midnight", and I've referenced quite a few plot points from the show without going into a lot of detail, so it will help if you're somewhat familiar with the episode.
Shout out to XoXLexLoveXoX (hope I spelled that right) for taking the time to leave a review, and thank you to everyone who favorited and followed this story. By the way, I'm feeling really insecure about this chapter which is why it took me so long to post it. This one is very important both to the story and to me personally, so please, please, even if you never review, please tell me what you think of this one.
As Dean got out of the car, Sam was coming out of the house to meet him, and he thought, Now or never.
The whole way back, whenever they stopped for food or gas, he'd made an effort to hold Cas's hand and call him babe as much as possible. Not all the reactions they got were positive, but no one was outright hostile, and twice they were told what a cute couple they were which made Cas blush adorably. Still it felt like a vacation from his real life, and Dean knew that if he let himself fall back into old habits, it might never be this way again. He might never see Cas glow with pride as Dean claimed him for the whole world to see.
"We need to talk," he blurted out before Sam could even say hello.
Sam blinked. "Okay. Is something wrong?"
"No. Well …" Dean laughed hollowly. "I guess that's up to you. I've got something to tell you, and …" He glanced at Cas who was still standing on the passenger side of the car. The angel smiled encouragingly. "And I don't think it's a bad thing," Dean went on, drawing courage from that smile like a plant drinking up sunlight, "but you might disagree. I really don't know."
"Dean, you—" Sam started to say, but Dean talked over him, rushing to get the words out before he lost his nerve.
"No, Sam, I need you to just listen. Don't ask questions, don't … Just don't interrupt, okay?"
Sam closed his mouth, looked at Dean for a moment, then nodded solemnly. "Okay. I'm listening."
Dean took a deep breath.
I could never hate you. I will not have a cocksucking fag whore for a son. You're my brother. You get yourself right, boy, or I can't trust you to be around Sammy. I could never hate you. Fag. You're my brother. Whore. Never hate you. Sammy. Hate you.
It wasn't that the words got stuck in his throat. He couldn't even get them that far. He couldn't remember how talking worked. Or breathing. When had he last breathed? Hours ago? Years? A rushing noise filled his ears. The ground tilted under him. He felt warm metal at his back (Baby) and leaned gratefully against it (Baby never lets me down).
He was vaguely aware of Sam saying his name over and over again with increasing alarm, but it sounded very far away. Possibly on another planet. One where they had oxygen, lucky them. Fuck, I'm gonna die, he thought. I'm so not okay with that.
A warm hand settled on his shoulder, and a gravelly voice commanded, "Breathe."
I can't. He looked into Cas's eyes and felt like he was falling through endless blue sky. It was weirdly peaceful although part of him knew that was because he was about to pass out.
"It's okay," Cas's voice rumbled on. It sounded a lot like the Impala's engine. Was that why he'd always liked it? "You're okay, Dean. You're safe. I'm right here, but you need to breathe."
I can't. I don't know how.
"Please, honey. Please breathe for me."
Oh. Well, if it's for Cas … He breathed, the sudden flood of oxygen more dizzying than the lack of it.
"That's it. Slowly, honey. Slowly." The hand that wasn't on Dean's shoulder stroked lightly up and down his chest, and Dean used it as a guide — up, breathe in, down, breathe out — until he was no longer hyperventilating.
"Sorry," was the first thing he said when he remembered how to speak.
Cas made a dismissive shushing noise. "You have nothing to apologize for."
Dean noticed that he was sitting on the ground, Cas crouching beside him. How long had they been like that? Cas's position didn't look comfortable, but he showed no sign of wanting to move. All his attention was on Dean.
"Why do you do that?" Dean mumbled, resting his head on Cas's arm.
Cas stopped stroking, his hand coming to rest directly over Dean's heart. "Do what?"
"Look at me like I'm important."
"You are important. To me you are the most important person in the world."
"Makes no fucking sense."
"I'll be happy to explain it to you in detail. Multiple times if necessary."
Dean convinced his head to move just enough that he could see the angel's face. "Cas? Was that an innuendo?"
Cas smiled innocently. "Perhaps."
"Oh, you have come a long way, grasshopper."
Cas frowned, and Dean just knew he was about to say, I am not an insect, but before he could, another voice said, "Um, Dean?"
Fuck.
He had completely forgotten that Sam was there. He quickly replayed the last few minutes in his head. The part where Cas called him honey was pretty damning all by itself.
His breathing sped up again despite his best efforts to control it, and his eyes stung with tears. He should be relieved that it was over and he hadn't even needed to do anything (except have a panic attack), but he was more scared than he'd ever been in his life. Although a second ago he'd been completely unaware of his brother's presence, now it was all he was aware of. Even Cas faded into the background for a moment as Dean forced himself to meet Sam's eyes.
Sam had crouched down like Cas, which was good because Dean might have hurt himself trying to look that far up. The first emotion Dean recognized in his brother's face was sadness, and he almost stopped breathing again. Only the warm, gentle pressure of Cas's hands kept him grounded.
"Sam, if you're gonna say that we can't be brothers anymore, I'd rather you just walked away without saying anything." It came out cracked and choked and sounded a lot like begging because that's what it was, but Dean had no room left for humiliation. Fear filled every inch of space inside him.
Sam's face twisted up with pain and a tear slid down his cheek. "I'm not going to say that. I would never say that, especially not because of this. Dean, I already knew. I've known for months. I was just waiting for you to be ready to tell me. I thought … I didn't realize you were this scared. I kept trying to show you that it was okay, but … I should have just told you instead of dropping hints. I'm so sorry."
Dean heard and understood every word, but it took a minute for the fear to fade enough that he could move. Then he pulled Sam into a fierce hug. Cas let go of Dean and started to back off, not wanting to intrude on their moment, but Dean took one hand from Sam's shoulder and grabbed at the angel, managing to blindly catch his hand and holding on for dear life. Both. He got to keep both of them.
Just before the hug could turn truly awkward, Dean let go and scrambled to his feet, pulling Cas up with him. Then he swept the angel into a kiss worthy of the movies. He could feel Cas smiling.
Sam waited patiently. He didn't even cough. And when Dean finally released Cas, leaving the angel appropriately breathless of course, and turned to look at his brother again, Sam was beaming at the two of them with one hundred percent genuine happiness.
"So out of curiosity," Dean said, tucking Cas close to his side and watching Sam's smile get even wider, "what gave us away?"
Sam laughed. "Well, I would love to say you were just that obvious. And you were. But apparently I'm also just that blind. Bobby clued me in." He must have seen the reawakened fear in Dean's eyes because he quickly added, "He's okay with it too, by the way. He's known since you were a kid. He tried to talk to Dad about it, but —"
"Yeah, I know," Dean said quietly, some of the giddy, celebratory atmosphere evaporating. "Dad wasn't too open minded on that subject." He felt Cas hold him a little tighter and he squeezed back gratefully, bracing himself for Sam's next question.
"Dean, did Dad —"
"He didn't hurt me."
Cas made a sound somewhere between a snort and a sigh.
"I mean he didn't beat me or anything. He just … He did what he always did."
"Yelled," Sam said flatly.
"Yeah. A lot. He called me …" Dean decided that the exact words were unnecessary. "… bad things. Told me I was sick and I'd better get myself right" — the words dripped bitter sarcasm — "or he wouldn't let me be around you anymore."
Sam's mouth tightened with a mixture of sadness and anger. "Oh, Dean. I'm s—"
"Don't." Dean held up a warning finger. "Do not apologize to me, Sam. It's on Dad, not you."
"If I'd known —"
"You would've stood up for me. I know. But Dad made me promise not to tell you, and I think that's why. He knew …" Dean was having another epiphany, the words coming out faster than he could consciously think them. "He knew you'd take my side, and he didn't want that." He had wanted Dean scared and isolated, easy to control.
To Dean's relief, Sam changed the subject. "So there's one thing I don't understand. I assume the whole soul grace connection that made you see angel wings … That started when you …"
"Started having sex, yeah," Dean said after letting Sam blush and stammer for a few seconds.
"Okay, that explains why you didn't want to tell me exactly how it happened, but you said it was a one time thing which clearly …"
"At the time it wasn't a lie. We cooled things off for a bit since we didn't know if there were any other side effects to worry about, but then I, um …"
"He seduced me," Cas said bluntly.
Dean burst out laughing. "Babe, you can't really call it seduction when it's that easy. All I did was ask."
"You said please," Cas pointed out. "And I believe there was something about it being our last night on Earth."
Sam snorted. "Seriously? The last night on Earth speech? Isn't that a bit … cliche?"
Dean shrugged unrepentantly. "It works. Anyway, I convinced him to risk it, and when nothing bad happened, we decided to stop worrying."
Cas put his head down on Dean's shoulder and yawned. Dean was pretty exhausted himself between the panic attack and the long day of driving.
"Come on," he said, talking more to Cas than to Sam. "Let's go inside."
Cas huffed with displeasure when he had to let go of Dean so they could walk without tripping over each other's feet.
Dean chuckled. "You're clingy when you're tired. I like it."
When Dean and Cas walked through the door holding hands, Bobby grinned. "I take it everyone is finally on the same page," he said with a poor attempt at dry sarcasm that couldn't disguise his true feelings.
Dean let go of Cas for a moment and bent down to hug the old man. "Thank you," he said, blinking away tears again.
Bobby patted his shoulder. "No need to thank me, son," he said gruffly, and those six words probably did more than anything else to heal the wounds John had inflicted.
"Yes, there is." Dean straightened up and looked back and forth from Bobby to Sam. As he did, he realized two things. One, they were more than okay. They were happy for him. And two, they had no idea what a big deal that was. Maybe they knew in a theoretical way, but they had never experienced the things Dean had. The grudging tolerance, the muttered insults and disgusted looks, the silent message being sent in a hundred ways — there is something wrong with you. Dean had met guys who considered themselves lucky that their family still talked to them even though the talking was mostly just lectures and arguments about their "life choices". "This …" he said, his voice shaking just a little. "This is the goddamn dream."
He felt a weight lift from him, a weight he had been carrying for almost twenty years. It was finally over, and he hadn't lost anyone.
~o0o~
Of course life wasn't perfect. The world was still ending. They only had three out of four rings. They still didn't have a plan for getting the Devil back into the cage, at least not one Dean could get on board with. And although Bobby said he would have a lead on the final Horseman soon, he was being very cagey about his sources which was setting off all kinds of alarm bells in Sam's head.
But those were all problems for tomorrow. Tonight, watching Dean and Cas cuddle up on the couch (and it was definitely cuddling, and Dean didn't seem at all self conscious about that), Cas tasting chili for the first time and declaring it "the work of the devil", Dean laughing so hard he spit out his beer … Sam thought this might be as close to perfect as they would ever get.
Cas was very physically affectionate. It didn't cross the line into inappropriate, get-a-room behavior, but it quickly became clear just how much self control he had been exercising up until now. At first Dean was a little more reserved, darting glances at Sam and Bobby, making sure they were one hundred percent okay with this, but he never shrugged Cas off or moved out of reach, and gradually he began to relax and initiate it on his own, stealing kisses or slipping an arm around Cas's waist just to keep him close.
Their body language around each other was downright possessive, and yet Sam had never seen a healthier, more balanced couple. There was no dominance or submission. They were two perfectly equal halves of a whole.
When there was a lull in the conversation, Sam said, "Hey, Cas, can I talk to you? Privately?"
Cas looked confused and a little wary, but he said, "Of course, Sam," and stood up.
"Seriously?" Dean said, glaring at Sam. "The brother speech? Is that really necessary?"
"It's traditional, Dean," Sam said with a grin. That actually wasn't what he'd been planning, but now that he thought about it he should probably have that talk with Cas too. "I promise I'll bring him back in one piece."
"You better," Dean muttered, and he was less than half joking.
They went out to the front porch. It was dark, but there was enough light from the open door that they could see each other. Cas was wearing Dean's clothes, and the baggy t-shirt and rolled up jeans should have made him look a little ridiculous, like a kid playing dress up, but instead he looked more comfortable in his own skin than he had ever been before.
"What is the brother speech?" he asked.
"Um, we'll get to that in a minute. First … Cas, I owe you an apology."
Cas tilted his head. "For what?" The way the light caught his eyes and the shadows fell over his face made him seem very alien. Or possibly angelic.
Sam chose his words carefully. "When things first started to … change between you and Dean, I completely misinterpreted it. You gotta understand, at the time I didn't know Dean was into guys, so it didn't occur to me that it could be … what it was. When I noticed the way he was around you, and the way he was when you weren't around, I thought … I thought you were doing something to him, making him dependent on you so you could control him."
Cas lowered his eyes, his expression frighteningly unreadable. "Like Ruby did to you," he said quietly.
"Yeah, and believe me, I know how fucked up it is that that was the first place my mind went. I think I was a little jealous too because me and Dean weren't in a good place then, and I felt like you were replacing me. Anyway, point is, I was wrong to think that, and I'm sorry. I can see now how much you love him. And he loves you too. I don't know if he's ever said it —"
"He has." Cas smiled, and it made him look human again. "Many times."
That took Sam by surprise. He thought, not for the first time, that Cas might know his brother better than he did. Or at least, Cas knew a side of Dean that Sam had never been allowed to see.
"Good," he said, answering both Cas and his own thoughts. He understood why Dean had never wanted to be that vulnerable with him. Dean saw himself as Sam's protector, his parent since John had abdicated that role before Sam was a year old. For a long time Dean had been Sam's only source of safety and stability. In many ways he still was. So Sam understood, and he was glad that Dean would let himself be vulnerable with someone. "You know, Cas, I think you might be the best thing that's ever happened to him."
Cas laughed softly. "He's certainly the best thing that's ever happened to me," he said. "Of course, he refuses to believe that. He insists that I could find better, and while I think that's utterly ridiculous, I don't …" He met Sam's eyes, and there was suddenly something pleading in his voice. "I don't know how to convince him of it. I feel like he's waiting for me to … come to my senses and leave him. Sometimes he looks so scared, and I don't know what to do."
Sam smiled because there might be many things he didn't know about Dean, but this was one question he could answer in his sleep. "You stay," he said. "Tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. When he needs you, you be there, and when he tries to push you away, and he will … You don't let him. You spend the rest of your life proving to him that he's worth it, and in fifty years, he still won't believe it, but —"
"He'll believe that I believe it," Cas said. "And that will be good enough." It sounded like he was quoting something.
There was a beat of silence, and Sam decided the time had come for the brother speech. He put his hand on Cas's shoulder and looked the angel in the eye. "And if you hurt him in any way," he said in a perfectly even, pleasant tone, "I'll kill you. Understood?"
Cas stared back in that intense, unblinking way of his. It was like looking into the eye of a hurricane. There was a deep, inhuman calm there, and not because he didn't believe that Sam meant it, or he didn't think Sam was capable of it. He simply heard it as a statement of fact rather than a threat. When he nodded, it seemed like approval, like Sam was the one who had passed a test. "Understood," he said.
They went back inside, and Cas immediately settled back into Dean's arms like he'd never left. Maybe in a way he hadn't.
"So did he show you his guns?" Dean said a little huffily. "Threaten to shoot you if you hurt his baby girl?"
"You are neither a baby nor a girl, Dean," Cas said, laying his head on Dean's shoulder and closing his eyes.
"Lucky for you," Dean muttered.
Cas laughed. It was a low, husky, extremely sexual sound. "Hmm. Yes," he said. "Very lucky for me." His hand slid under Dean's shirt.
"Okay, you two," Bobby cut in. "Just cause we don't mind you screwing each other silly, that don't mean we want to watch." The gentle amusement in his eyes took any sting out of the words.
Dean blushed as he retrieved Cas's exploring hand, but Cas didn't look even a little embarrassed. "Our usual room?" Dean said.
Cas hummed in agreement but didn't move or open his eyes.
"Well, I ain't carrying you," Dean said.
"Why not?"
"Because you're too big."
"Lucky for you." Cas managed to sound lascivious and half asleep at the same time.
Dean snorted. "Yeah? Tough talk from a guy who's gonna be unconscious in the next five minutes. Come on."
As he watched Dean coax Cas onto his feet, grumbling and complaining and smiling the whole time, Sam had a thought that was both sad and deeply comforting. He won't be alone. Even if I don't make it out of this alive, even if we can't find another way, he won't be alone.
~o0o~
Dean woke up to the smell of dust, old books, and Cas. He nuzzled deeper into the silky hair at the nape of Cas's neck, blocking out the other smells. Cas stirred drowsily, and his ass pressed against the fairly urgent erection that Dean hadn't noticed before and now couldn't stop noticing.
Would it be wrong to hump Cas in his sleep? his brain asked.
His dick didn't wait for the answer, and the flood of pleasure he got from moving just the tiniest bit drowned any objections. Cas had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow last night, so they were both still in boxers and t-shirts, but that only added to the glorious friction.
Cas made a sleepy but definitely pleased noise when Dean's cock settled in the cleft of his ass like they were made for each other. His legs spread a little wider.
"You awake?" Dean grunted.
The answer was noncommittal, but the way Cas's hips rocked back against Dean's was decidedly not. Dean reached around to the front of Cas's boxers and found them wet and tented. If Cas was asleep, he was having a really good dream.
Dean moved faster, rubbing Cas's cock in the same rhythm as this thrusts. Cas moaned into the pillow and his hand landed on Dean's ass, squeezing and pushing. "Oh, fuck," Dean panted. He must have been hard for a while before he woke up because he was already seconds away from coming his brains out. Said brains bitchily reminded him that he didn't have a lot of clean underwear left, and he needed enough for both him and Cas.
With a frustrated groan, he stopped long enough to struggle out of his boxers. Cas half turned his head, eyes still closed, and groped at empty air. "Yeah, yeah," Dean muttered. "Gimme a second." Apparently Cas was a demanding lover even in his dreams.
Dean didn't bother to take off his shirt since it was the one he'd worn yesterday and it was already soaked in sweat, but he stripped Cas of his underwear too. "Oh, you better be dreaming about me," he said when he saw Cas's erection, dark with blood, lolling heavy and needy against his stomach.
Sure enough, when he wrapped his fingers around it and squeezed gently, Cas whined, "Dean. Oh, Dean."
"Good," Dean said.
His own dick was practically screaming at him by now. He rolled Cas onto his back, stretched out on top of him, and took them both in one hand. Unconscious or not, Cas managed to get with the rhythm pretty quickly, both hands grabbing greedily at Dean's ass and trying to speed him up.
"Fuck, I love you," Dean chuckled, dipping his head to kiss Cas's throat. "So demanding." Another kiss. "So impatient." A bite this time that made Cas groan deeply. "So loud."
"Shut up," Cas growled, "and make me fucking come already." He didn't sound at all sleepy. It was possibly the most coherent he'd ever been during sex.
Well, Dean wasn't having that. He stopped.
"Dean!" It was more scolding than begging.
Dean's dick was on Cas's side, but he had a lifetime of practice at letting it know who was the boss. He sat up on his knees and said, "What were you dreaming about, Cas?"
"What?" Cas opened his eyes, and Dean almost gave in then and there. Those eyes were lusty and sleepy and full of frustration and want and need and love. Always love.
"What were you dreaming about?" Dean repeated. He ran one finger lightly along the throbbing vein in Cas's cock and then around the groove under the head where wetness was gathering quickly. Cas breathed in sharp pants. "Tell me your dream and I'll let you come."
"Dean!" Cas was begging now, his head tilted back and his hips canted up, but he didn't try to touch himself (not that Dean would have let him) or reverse their positions.
"Come on, Cas." Dean continued fondling him just enough to keep him on the edge but not enough to tip him over. "Tell me. Were you dreaming about fucking me?"
"Yes. Dean, please."
"Details, Cas. Where were we?"
"Car." They were down to monosyllables. Much better.
"My car?"
"Yes. Fuck. Dean!"
"You ready to come now, babe?"
"Yes!"
Dean made his strokes firm and fast until Cas's whole body began to tense up warningly. Then he stopped again and purred, "What's the magic word?"
"Deeeean!"
Satisfied that his name was the only word Cas could remember, Dean gave him one final stroke, and Cas instantly spilled in thick, fast spurts, moaning at the top of his lungs. Dean worked him through it, then smeared Cas's come on his own cock until it was mixed with his.
When he came down enough to open his eyes, he saw Cas grinning at him. The angel had clearly enjoyed watching Dean finish himself. Dean took a moment to admire the utterly filthy picture Cas made, naked from the waist down, his cock flopping soft and wet against his leg, his shirt (which was really Dean's shirt, which was still almost too sexy to think about) stained liberally with come, some of which was probably Dean's too. "You're gorgeous," Dean breathed.
Cas ran a hand up Dean's thigh. "Right back atcha," he said, his voice still hoarse from his screaming orgasm.
Dean laughed and let himself fall forward, catching his weight on his hands before he could crush Cas. "Good morning, babe."
"Good morning, honey," Cas rumbled back. He already used the endearment as naturally as he said Dean's name. "I imagine we should shower before we go downstairs. For the sake of public decency."
"Oh, I'm betting they already know we had sex. Somebody has absolutely no volume control."
"I could have been a lot quieter if somebody hadn't insisted on making me beg."
"Oh, but it was so worth it." Dean lowered himself a little further and nuzzled behind Cas's ear.
Cas hooked a knee over Dean's hip and coaxed him the rest of the way down. "Yes, it was."
In hindsight Dean felt he should have known that the day could only go downhill from there.
~o0o~
Cas took the shotgun awkwardly and aimed it at the chalk target on the side of the garage.
Dean gently corrected his grip a little, then stepped back. "Take a breath and start to let it out as you squeeze the trigger," he said. "Helps with the recoil. And remember, squeeze, don't pull. Don't want you losing any of those talented fingers."
Cas smiled faintly but didn't respond. His perfect focus and the way he absorbed Dean's instructions and followed them to the letter reminded Dean that, angel or human, Cas was first and foremost a soldier.
The shot echoed like thunder, and the rock salt round spattered the garage with flecks of white. A few were inside the target, but just barely. Cas sighed.
"Not bad," Dean said.
Cas gave him a flat, don't-humor-me look.
"I'm serious. My first time I could barely hit the broadside of a barn." Of course, he'd been only ten, maybe even nine, and his hands were too small to balance the gun properly. The recoil had knocked him on his butt. "Try again," he said, pushing the memory away. "You got one more shot before you need to reload."
The second shot landed a third inside the target and two thirds out. John Winchester would have considered that as good as a miss, but Dean thought it was a dramatic improvement. Faster than he'd expected. "See? You're a quick study," he said with a grin. Now that the gun was safely emptied, he moved closer and pulled Cas into a backwards hug.
Cas gave another frustrated sigh and leaned against Dean. "I miss being an angel. I never really appreciated how easy everything was."
"You don't have to do this you know."
"Dean," Cas groaned, and not in a sexy way. "Please let's not have this argument again. Neither of us has anything new to say. You want me to be safe. I want to be useful. This" — he held up the shotgun — "is a compromise we can both live with."
Dean dropped the subject. Hard as he was trying not to think about it, these could be their last few hours together. Bad enough that they had to be spent on firearms training instead of sweaty, passionate, last-day-on-Earth sex. He didn't have to start a fight on top of everything else.
He indulged in a few more minutes of cuddling. (Really, why had he ever thought that wasn't something he liked?) Then he said, "Try again. For every bull's eye, I'll give you a kiss."
Cas rolled his eyes, but apparently it was a good motivation because he hit the target dead center on his fifth shot. Dean, of course, kept his promise.
"At the risk of sounding hypocritical," Cas said when he could speak again, "can I convince you to reconsider your plan?"
"Nope," Dean said, winding his arm tighter around Cas's waist. "Somebody's gotta do it, and I sure as hell ain't letting you or Sam take the risk."
"You can't rely on Crowley to back you up. His concern for your safety, if he has any at all, is based purely on self interest."
"I know that. Believe me, Cas, I don't trust him. At all. But I also care about his safety just as much as he cares about mine. Hell, maybe if he dies on this mission, it'll void Bobby's contract."
Dean got a horrible, hollow feeling in his gut whenever he thought about that fucking contract. He understood now what Cas meant about him treating his life like a bargaining chip. It was fucking terrifying when someone you loved decided that they were expendable. And maybe some people would have thought that saving the world (and getting to walk again into the bargain) really was worth a soul, but Dean had been to Hell. Crowley would tear up that contract one way or another.
Suddenly Cas kissed him again, yanking Dean out of his thoughts. The angel's mouth moved demandingly, almost violently at first, but when Dean surrendered without hesitation, the kiss gentled, becoming passionate rather than desperate. Dean had no idea how long Cas spent exploring every inch of his mouth. He tried to breathe through his nose to draw it out a little more, but he still felt lightheaded when Cas finally released him.
"Not, uh … not that I'm complaining," he panted, "but was there a reason for that?"
"I'm scared, Dean," Cas said, equally breathless. "I am just as scared of losing you as you are of losing me. Sometimes I think you don't realize that. You know that I love you, but you have no idea how deeply and fiercely and desperately I need you. What you think I deserve is irrelevant. I could never be happy with anyone else."
He was trembling in Dean's arms. Dean gathered him close, as close as they could get, and murmured in his ear, "Till death do us part, babe. I meant that."
"Yes, I know, and I'd like it to last longer than two days please," Cas mumbled into Dean's shirt.
"Yeah, me too. We picked a hell of a time to do this."
"Should we have waited until after the world ended?"
Dean laughed. "Good point."
~o0o~
Nobody died. They had all four rings. Chicago would live another day. Sam, Bobby, and Cas had stopped the zombie apocalypse, and nobody had died. So Dean should have been ecstatically happy.
And he was. While Cas was coming inside him, moaning his name and filling him with warmth and peace and safety, Dean was happy. He kept his eyes closed long after his own orgasm had passed, trying to keep reality at bay a little longer. Cas didn't question it, just cleaned them both up, then nudged Dean onto his side and slid in behind him, draping an arm over his waist and pulling the blankets over them. But it seemed like the harder Dean tried to hold onto it, the faster the high faded. He couldn't stop thinking about what he had done.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Cas asked.
Dean knew he could simply say no, and Cas would drop the subject, but he was sick of secrets. "What do you think happens if you break a deal with Death?" he said.
Cas went completely still, and there was stark terror in his voice when he said very quietly, "Dean, what did you do?"
Dean closed his eyes. "I said I would let Sam do it. Say yes to Lucifer, then jump in the hole. It was the only way he would give me the ring. I said I'd let my little brother sacrifice himself to save the world."
He expected Cas to relax a little once he knew that Dean hadn't gambled with his own life, but if anything Cas grew more tense. He pressed his face into the back of Dean's neck and murmured, "Oh, Dean," in a small, broken voice.
"I can't do it," Dean said, his voice starting to crack. "I can't. I've spent my whole life protecting the kid. I can't just let him die."
"Even if there's no other way?" Cas said, the words humming along Dean's spine. "Even if it's a choice between him and the whole world?"
Dean didn't hesitate. "Yes."
Cas's nose rubbed Dean's neck as he nodded, completely unsurprised. And then he said, "And how do you think Sam will feel about that?"
It was Dean's turn to go tense and still. That was the one thing he'd been hoping Cas wouldn't say, the one argument that could actually change his mind. He opened his mouth to head it off, but his throat was too tight.
Cas's hand moved in soothing circles over Dean's stomach as he talked, his chest vibrating slightly against Dean's back. "I don't pretend to understand how hard this would be for you, Dean. He is your brother and your son and your best friend all at once. Losing him, especially like this, would be the worst thing to happen in a life that has already contained far more pain than it should. But will you really ask him to stand by and do nothing while the world burns? Because he would. He loves you completely and unconditionally. There is nothing he wouldn't sacrifice for you. But seeing all that suffering and knowing he could have stopped it? It would torture him. You are many things, Dean Winchester, but you have never been cruel or selfish."
Dean felt a sob clawing its way up his throat, and he realized that he was shaking violently with the effort of holding it in. Then he wondered why he was bothering. It was just him and Cas. It was perfectly safe to cry.
Cas held him silently while he mourned for everything he had already lost and everything he still had to lose.