Thank You

by TheGirlWhoBlockedHerOwnShot

Based off the song by Led Zepplelin. Destiel AU. On the evening of his brother, Gabriel's 30th birthday party, Castiel meets the frustrating 'Dean Winchester', who he quickly decides he dislikes. However, he still finds himself accepting Dean's offer of a dance, and curses himself for being so attracted to the green eyed man. My first fic, please be nice! M to be safe!

21. Chapter 21

Author's Note: Here it is! The chapter you've all been waiting for! Oh, the excitement! And this time, I promise you, it's not ending on a cliffhanger! That said, this chapter is like 17000 fucking words long - (I felt bad for the cliffhanger. And I just wanted to cram everything into one chapter. Also, to put things into perspective, most of my chapters are around 5000-6000 words. So yeah, this one is looking pretty fucking huge, compared to that, at least...) Erm, what else? A huge thank you to everyone who stuck at it, through all the pain. I'm proud of you. After this, it's just happiness and rainbows and glorious smut and fluff.

That said, the updates will probably start coming a lot slower, too. (But, hopefully, not loads slower. Just back at the pace they were before.) I had to rush through this whole section of the story because I hated the idea of you guys being left on the edge for weeks at a time inbetween the fight and now. And things are going to start getting really busy for me again, so yeah :(

Thank you to all the people who reviewed the last chapter, particularly rosesonyourgrave who did a great job at reassuring me on the direction of the fic. Idk, I was feeling a little scared about what you all really thought of what was happening. (although, I'm obviously very grateful to all of you for your kind words :3)

I just hope this chapter is everything you hoped it would be...

I'll stop now - you'll want to get on and read it, I'm sure!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of the characters in it. I also don't own the song this fic is named after, or the band who wrote it.

Holy shit, I hope you all like this chapter...

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Chapter 21

Cas jumped and looked up—he looked up and saw those familiar, warm, beautiful jade eyes gazing adoringly into his own—he would've collapsed, his legs giving in underneath him, if it wasn't for the fact that he was sitting down. He had to be dreaming—there was no way this could be real—

"This looks familiar, huh?" Dean asked, gesturing between the two of them, and then out to the crowds of people, talking and dancing near them—the fact that the two of them, once again, were in seclusion at a party.

He was wearing a loose grin across his lips as he spoke—his eyes were clouded over—or was that just the lighting? Cas couldn't tell.

Cas stood up and took a step back, unable to breathe.

"—Cas—" Dean tried to say, but just then, Michael stepped quickly between the two of them—Anna was trying to pull him back, but to no avail.

"You must be Dean Winchester." Michael said, his voice a low growl. He frowned at Dean, looking him up and down, and Dean looked immediately defensive.

"And I'm guessing you're Michael." He replied, just as coldly.

"—Michael—" Anna tried to cut in, but Michael wasn't listening.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here, you know that? After breaking my brother's heart, after—"

"You've got a lot of nerve to give me any kind of lectures—especially after that same brother of yours was too afraid to come out to you for ten years of his life—"

"Dean!" Anna shouted, as Michael scowled at the sandy haired man, taking a step forward, barely noticing Anna, who was still trying, desperately, to pull him back.

Cas didn't know what to say. He was stood there, frozen to the ground, rooted to the spot, his voice had gone, his throat had dried, he was finding himself quite unable to speak.

None of this could be real—Dean hadn't come back, no really—any second now, Cas would wake up, and it would be the morning of his brother's wedding all over again, and—

"What's going on over here?" Rachel asked, frowning as she approached all of them. "Michael?" She asked, giving Michael a stern look. He immediately relaxed his arms, taking a step away from Dean Winchester.

"Who is this?" The bride asked, raising her eyes at her new husband.

"—This is Dean—" Anna tried to answer, but Michael cut his sister off.

"—This is the guy who broke Cassie's heart—who broke Cas—and now he turns up after almost a year, and—"

"Let me explain myself!" Dean shouted over Michael, but Michael scowled back at him.

"What is there to explain? What excuses are there to make?!"

"—I think the two of you had better go talk this through yourselves." Rachel cut across, and Cas was amazed by the fact that she had managed to be louder than all of them, and stop them talking, without actually shouting at all. She could be absolutely terrifying when she wanted to be.

"I'm not letting Cassie go with him, Rach—"

"I actually meant the two of you." Rachel interrupted, gesturing at Michael and Dean. "You two clearly need to talk things over before things escalate any further" She said, looking sternly at both of them, and both Michael and Dean looked suddenly embarrassed. "But for the record," She continued, frowning at Michael in particular, "Whether or not Castiel decides to talk to Dean is entirely his choice."

Michael looked down at the ground, seeming suddenly very ashamed of himself.

"Sorry." He nodded.

Rachel's expression softened, and she smiled gently at Michael. "You should probably let him explain himself." She said gently, and Michael smiled back at her for a moment.

Cas watched as Rachel opened the main door to the hall, letting both Michael and Dean out of it, before turning back to Castiel.

"I'm really sorry about that." She smiled gently. "Anyway, what is it you'd like to do now, Cas?" She asked, brushing down her gown.

Cas had to kind of admire her in that moment.

But then there was this nauseating, terrified, shell-shocked feeling eating its way up inside of him.

"I'd like to hear what Dean has to say for himself." Castiel confessed, looking at the ground.

"I had a feeling you would." Rachel smiled. "Go on. Go after him."

---

Cas crept quietly to the door that his brother and Dean had just disappeared behind. He knew it was wrong to be eavesdropping, and yet something inside of him wanted to know what Dean was saying to Michael—what Dean was saying about him—and it wanted to know an awful lot.

And so, with an unpleasant, guilty feeling gnawing at the base of his stomach, Cas peered cautiously around the door, which had been left ever so slightly ajar; enough so that he could just about make out both Dean and his brother.

Dean was leaning back on a desk there, looking nervous of all things, and Michael was standing opposite him. Neither of them looked particularly comfortable. There was a rather lengthy—and awkward—silence, before Michael took a deep breath and sighed.

"Sorry about earlier." He said, a crease forming between his eyebrows and a tired expression forming in his eyes.

"You shouldn't be." Dean waved him off. "I deserved that—and more. And I shouldn't have responded in the way I did, either." He sighed. "I shouldn't have come back. It was a stupid plan. And I shouldn't have put Cas through any more shit—I mean, I'd already done more than enough to begin with. I'm an asshole, and an idiot, and I would've done exactly the same—and worse—if I'd been in your position."

Michael nodded and crossed his arms.

"Yeah. No offense, but it kind of seems like you are an asshole. You broke Cassie. And I know that there's the whole counter argument of 'You're his own brother and he couldn't come out to you for over ten years just because he was so scared you'd reject him' that you can play if I try to accuse you of anything, but you broke Cassie. You fucking wrecked him when you left."

"I know." Dean nodded. His voice was small and almost quiet enough to be a whisper, and it cracked with emotion and remorse. "I can't even begin to explain how much I regret what I did. I don't expect forgiveness from you, much less forgiveness from Cas, but… I just wanted to give it a shot. It was a stupid decision. He was probably only a few steps away from being completely okay again, and then I had to come back and fuck it all up. And I'm really sorry. Knowing that I hurt him so much…" Dean trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, his face looking desperate and a little distraught.

"He wasn't close to getting better." Michael's voice had also become very quiet. It wasn't a threatening kind of quiet, or a remorseful one; it was closer to thoughtful. Empathetic. Perhaps somewhere between upset and honest. "I thought he was. He thought he was, too, I guess. But he wasn't. He wasn't close to being happy. Even when he smiled, it was like something had gone from his eyes. Balthazar noticed it, and that's why he had to split up with Cas again. I don't think you can 'ruin' what's already pretty fucking wrecked."

Dean nodded again. He was biting at his lip. It looked like he was almost ready to cry.

"If you want me to leave—if he wants me to leave, to never come back—"

"Don't you dare." Michael interrupted. "Please, don't." He added, his tone softening. "It won't make Cas any better. It won't resolve anything."

"What should I do then?"

Michael was silent for another moment, before he asked; "Why did you leave him?"

Dean's body slumped. He looked even more hopeless, even more depressed than ever.

"I don't know." He stated hollowly. "Cas was the best thing I ever had. And I fucked up, big time. I didn't just ruin the relationship,I hurt him, which is a fact that never fails to make me feel shit—which, I know, I deserve." He paused for a moment. "I've only ever been good for screwing things over. If I'm remembered for anything, it'll be for my fuck ups. I really don't know what to say. I don't have an excuse. I hurt your brother, who was the love of my life, and it looks like everything is broken beyond repair, and that's entirely my fault. I just got so angry that day, and I wasn't thinking—or, if I was, I was thinking about what I could do to hurt Cas the most, and I think I did just that. The fact that I actually wanted to hurt him in that way? That's fucking inexcusable. I still hate myself more than anything for it." There was another pause. Michael didn't look like he wanted to say anything, so Dean continued.

"And as soon as I left, I regretted it. I should've turned back, come home, torn up the note and apologised to Cas; and told him the truth, that he was all I wanted in life. But I wasn't done being a fucking idiot just yet, and I was pretty fucking hammered—but I still drove down to Bobby's place, and I got even more fucking wasted. I spent the rest of the night drinking. And I carried on all through the morning. I tried to drink away my troubles, because that's what my dad did, and I guess the apple don't fall far from the tree. Which is actually a pretty sickening thought." Dean said bitterly, sounding disgusted with himself.

"I passed out after that—unsurprisingly. I woke up—I don't know, I think it was around two and a half days later. Maybe three. Bobby and Sam had been really worried about me. They thought I had alcohol poisoning, or something, with the amount I'd drank. They said they'd tried calling Cas, but that he wasn't picking up the home phone. And neither of them had his mobile. So I tried calling him on his mobile, but he didn't pick up. I get that—I didn't deserve any of his time. Anyway, then I ran back to the apartment, but when I got there, he was already gone. And I tried calling him again, but he didn't answer, and I tried contacting Anna and Gabriel, but I couldn't get through, and I asked the landlord if he knew where Cas had gone, but he said he had no idea, and I didn't know what to do—I tried so hard, but he'd already gone… And he'd blocked my number, or wasn't answering the phone, or something like that, 'cause none of my calls were going through. So I lost Cas. And I kept on trying to find him, but I couldn't. Besides, I'd fucked up so badly, I didn't deserve a second chance. And that's basically how my life fell apart. That was the day my life shattered. And I hate myself so fucking much for it, you have no idea. I deserve to hate myself, too. There's not a day that passes where I don't regret what I did. Where I don't wish I could go back—get him back."

Michael nodded. He didn't say anything.

"You loved my brother?" he asked.

"He was everything to me. He still is."

"But did you love him?" Michael repeated.

Dean looked down again. His eyes still looked watery. His posture was still slumped and despondent.

"I did. I can't put it into words, but…" Dean trailed off and bit his lip. "Your brother was the air I breathed. I didn't just love him, I needed him. I wanted more than anything for him to be happy. I still do. I still adore him, I still love him, and I still need him more than words can explain, but…" He looked at the ground, then back up at Michael. "If he wanted…If it would make him better—make him happy… I'll leave. I'll say goodbye and wish him the very best. And even though it'll hurt like a son of a bitch, knowing that he'd be happy would keep me going. I don't think I ever deserved him, anyway… I just want him to get better. I want him to be happy."

"You made him happy." Michael replied after a brief silence.

"But I don't any more. Now it just hurts him to even have to look at me. And I can't stand that."

"So because you can't stand it, you'll leave again?"

"That's not what I meant—"

"It sounded like it was."

"Well it wasn't!" Dean snapped. Then he sighed and slumped again. "Sorry." He said apologetically, rubbing his face. "I still love Cas. I always did. I always will, for the record. Which means that I want him to be happy more than anything, and now I know that he could never be happy with me, not after what I did. If I could go back…" Dean trailed off again. "I'd change how that day turned out. I really would. I'd go back and never say or do any of that shit. I'd keep all my promises to him—the ones about never leaving him, the ones about staying with him forever. And I'd make sure he never felt alone, or unhappy again."

"Shouldn't you say that to him now?"

"He wouldn't want to hear it." Dean's voice cracked slightly, and he looked wearily, miserably, at the ground.

Cas only now became aware of himself. He was sat, slumped on the floor outside the room. He didn't know exactly when it was he had slid down onto the carpet, but he didn't get up. He didn't know how to react to everything he had just heard. He wanted to cry, if he was honest with himself, although recently that was pretty much all he had wanted to do.

Dean sounded empty. He sounded empty and broken with the idea that he had hurt Cas, and a while ago, Cas would have felt some kind of cruel, bitter satisfaction at knowing this. But he didn't feel that now. Now all he wanted was for Dean to wrap his arms around him again; like he used to when the slept next to each other every night, and he wanted Dean to whisper sweet nothings in his ear like he used to—he wanted Dean to say that everything would be okay and that Dean still loved him with all of his heart and that he would never stop doing so.

Cas wanted Dean to keep all those promises he had sworn to Cas all that time ago.

"I really think he would." Michael replied.

"Really?" Dean asked. Hopeful. That's what he sounded like, now. Desperately hopeful, and even though it was only a small glimmer in his voice, it sounded like Dean hadn't quite given up, yet.

And Cas didn't quite know how he felt about that. Truthfully, the thought that Dean still cared so much overjoyed him. But he couldn't possibly let it do so. And so he took all those feelings of hope and want and need for Dean, and he locked them up in a box inside his chest, praying that it would never open. Praying that he would never be forced to acknowledge those emotions.

"Really." Michael confirmed. "I think he'd want to know you still love him."

There was that, too. Dean still loved him. And that thought—no, Cas told himself. No. Dean left you. He hurt you. He doesn't deserve anything from you. And he tried, once more, to lock that feeling in the small box inside of himself, to never let it see the light of day again.

"I don't think he would." Dean's voice was small again. "I don't deserve anything from him."

"But he deserves an apology, at least."

"He does." Dean nodded. "And if I could, I'd spend the rest of my life showing him how sorry I am."

"Then you should say that to him."

"He wouldn't want to hear it."

"That's pretty unfortunate," Michael's voice curled into something else—amusement? Cas worried at his lip and fiddled anxiously with his own hands. "—Seeing as he already has."

Cas' insides froze. He felt his heart drop into his stomach and despaired, as it continued sinking as he listened in on the conversation.

"What?" Dean asked, frowning. He sounded confused—but then, there was the something else in his voice that made Cas' gut twist. There was so much hope in his voice.

"He's already heard." Michael said.

"How?"

"He's outside—he's been outside the whole time." Michael explained.

Cas genuinely thought he was going to vomit. He stayed there, frozen as his brother sounded more and more amused.

"Really?" Dean asked—he still sounded so awfully hopeful—and that made Cas want to be sick, too.

"Yep." Michael nodded. "Cas?" He called, glancing over to the door. Cas stood up, but didn't respond. "There's genuinely no point in you hiding out there." Michael called again.

"Cas—" Dean started, but his voice caught in his throat and he broke off.

"I think I should leave you two to it." Michael said, walking over to the door. Only now did Cas regain control of himself. He stepped back, avoiding Michael as he opened it completely, and made sure he was standing outside of Dean's line of vision.

"Cassie," Michael started, but Cas cut him off.

"Don't, Michael. "Please don't. I don't want to." He said quietly. His voice cracked with desperation.

"But you should—"

"But I can't" Cas replied.

"Cas?" Dean's voice called from the room. It was hoarse, and cracked still more as he spoke. "I get it. It's okay—I can go now. I only wanted another shot, and I fucked that up, too. I'm sorry. I'll go."

"Dean, don't." Michael said firmly to Dean. "Cas," he began; his voice still hard and determined. "Get in there and talk it out. At least for closure—heaven knows you need it."

"I don't want—"

"But you need to." Michael interrupted. "Go on, Cassie." His voice softened considerably, and he reached forward and patted Cas' shoulder with his hand gently. "Give it a shot."

Cas ducked his head. It wasn't out of embarrassment. It was because he was scared he was going to cry. Michael gently pushed him forward, into the room; and Dean immediately straightened up—his eyes sparking with something odd, between hopefulness and deep regret.

"Hi, Cas." He said, again. Cas didn't respond. He didn't know how.

"I'll leave you two alone." Michael said—Cas could've sworn there was a grin in his voice when he said that.

Dean looked at the ground awkwardly. It looked like he wanted to turn and run away. It wouldn't be the first time, Cas reminded himself.

"I'm so sorry." Dean's voice cracked. Cas still couldn't respond, and Dean sighed and rubbed his face. "I'm sorry." He said again. "This was a stupid idea. I never should've made you see me. I'll leave, now. I'm sorry I put you through this—again—I was just hopeful, I guess, but—"

Castiel found his voice now. "Did you mean everything you said? To Michael, that is?"

Dean looked suddenly and incredibly relieved that Cas was talking to him. "Of course—I meant every word."

"But why did you leave?" Cas asked. The question had been eating away at him, crushing him for so long. He had to know for certain now.

"I really don't know, Cas." Dean sighed despondently. "I've only ever been good for fucking up. And you were—are—the most wonderful, amazing person on the planet. And I let you go."

"But why?"

"I think part of me couldn't stand seeing myself so happy. And I was so angry, but I don't even know why, and I took my anger out on leaving you—and all I'm good for is screwing things over, Cas, seriously—I'm poison. Everything I touch falls apart, and it kills me to know that you were included in that. I am so fucking sorry. I can't explain how sorry I am, but—" Dean trailed off, desperately. "You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to. I deserve that. I just wanted to come back here and apologise for everything to you, and I've done that now. I'll get out of your hair."

"I don't want you to leave again, Dean." Cas said, rather quickly, his voice quiet and choked. "Not again." He repeated.

Something softened in Dean's expression. Softened, that is, and saddened, too. His eyes clouded over as he gazed at Cas—he looked at Cas now in such a similar way to the way he used to stare at him—like he was the most beautiful thing in the entire universe. Except now, Dean looked at him with sadness and remorse, too. And it made Cas' skin prickle uncomfortably to be gazed at in such a way.

"I'm so fucking sorry." Dean croaked again. He took a small step forward, and Cas only now became aware of the stifling distance between them. He didn't step away. He longed to be touched, to be close, to Dean again. He hated every fibre in his body that craved Dean's gentle hands on his skin so very much, but he couldn't stop himself from yearning for it. "If I could go back, I swear, Cassie…"

Cas bit his lip and looked at the ground.

"I'd change all of this." Dean's tone filled with still more regret. "I'd never leave you. I'd never let you go. I'd stay with you forever and make sure you knew how loved you were—I'd treat you the way you deserve."

Cas stared back into Dean's eyes. They had dark circles underneath them. Tiny red veins crept across the whites of his eyes, and lines formed beneath them. They looked deeper set, more troubled than Cas remembered. They looked so very tired and miserable.

"You mean that?"

"Of course I do."

Cas was silent for another moment. His hands started fiddling with each other once more.

"Please don't leave again." Cas repeated. "Michael was right. It'd only make things worse. It wouldn't make me any better."

"If you wanted me to, I'd stay with you forever."

Cas bit his lip. He was dangerously close to saying something like; 'Yes, I think I'd like that'.

"You meant what you said about you still loving me?" He asked instead.

"With all my heart."

There was another silence. It made Cas want to be sick, how wrong and unnatural things suddenly felt with Dean.

"You said to Michael that you've been drinking?" Cas asked, worry twisting his gut horribly.

"Like my dad." Dean laughed hollowly. His bitter smile quickly changed, and pain suddenly filled his eyes.

"Don't say that." Cas almost whispered. "Please don't."

"Sorry." Dean mumbled.

"You're nothing like him." Cas attempted to reassure.

"I don't know. You'd be surprised." Dean replied. "Binge drinking? Hurting the people I love most? –I'm pretty good at that, I think I've proven it over and over."

Cas worried his lip, unsure of what to say in response.

"Sorry." Dean mumbled again.

"What for?" Cas asked.

"Everything." Dean shrugged. "I just want you to know that I really am."

"Is that the only reason you came back? To apologise?"

"I guess I also kind of wanted to see if you'd give me a second chance…" Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "But that was kind of a ridiculous thing to hope for—and coming here was a cruel thing to put you through."

"You really still love me?" Cas asked.

"More than I can say."

"But what would you do?" Cas asked. "If I gave you another chance? What would you actually do differently?"

"I'd never leave you. I'd make sure you knew how much I loved you, every day. I'd make you as happy as I possibly could—as happy as you deserve to be."

"You'd stay with me?"

"If you wanted me to, I'd spend the rest of my life proving to you how sorry I am. I'd stay with you for all of forever"

Cas looked at the ground. His throat was drying up—how was he supposed to respond to everything that Dean was saying to him?

He had absolutely no idea what to do.

"I need some time to think." He managed to say.

"I understand." Dean nodded. "Thanks for even talking to me, Cas. I know it must've been hard—so thank you."

Cas pressed his lips together and nodded at Dean, before walking stiffly out the room.

He walked down the corridor, and opened the door at the end of it, the one leading outside. In front of him lay a stretch of field, and behind that a line of trees, the dimming twilight sky stretching above them like a dark silk blanket—he had to confess, Michael had chosen a beautiful spot for his wedding reception. The massive, old house it was being held at sat on the top of a hill, its grounds sloping out in front of it.

Cas pressed his lips together in a thin line and sat down onto the grass. He honestly didn't care that it was damp. He didn't know how he felt about anything anymore. The music from the reception was creeping out onto the grounds; the open door cast a rectangular ray of yellow light onto the ground.

Cas continued fiddling with his hands. It was strange, at this moment, he missed Dean's bracelet more than ever. He wondered where it was at that moment—he had taken it with him when he had moved, of that he was certain. But after that—well, it was something of a blur. Cas had avoided it—seeing the silver chain had sent a stabbing feeling straight into his heart, and Cas hadn't been able to stand it. It was probably discarded somewhere—shoved into the bottom of a dark and unused drawer in his house, where Cas would be able to avoid seeing it without having to actually move on from Dean enough to throw it away. The feeling of the chain, resting heavy on his wrist ghosted over his skin—the sensation had always been so familiar and comforting to Castiel when he and Dean had actually been together—but now it felt like an empty, gaping hole filling up his chest, and he hated it more than almost anything.

How was he supposed to react to Dean now? How was he supposed to take what Dean had told him? Castiel still physically hurt to think about the man who had left him without another word—after making all those promises of love and companionship and happiness to Cas. And now, here he was, promising those things all over again… How could Cas even think about trusting him, after Dean had caused him so much pain?

Would Dean leave him again? Castiel felt the sickening hollow in his chest widen significantly at the thought—and yet, it wasn't an unreasonable one. Dean had done it once before. It wasn't like Castiel was being oversensitive—Dean had left Castiel with nothing but a cruel note and a broken heart.

And here Dean was, promising happiness to Cas all over again. How could he be blamed for not trusting Dean anymore? He wasn't an idiot. Dean came there, after almost a year of nothing—and he had just told Cas that he was sorry, and that he still loved him.

Dean was sorry.

Dean still loved Castiel.

The thought did not send a happy, nervous fluttering through Cas' insides. No it didn't. The tiny box of emotions that Cas had crammed hurriedly into his own chest was aching unbearably, begging to be emptied, to be set free. But Cas simply couldn't do that. He couldn't allow himself to love Dean again.

"It's a beautiful night, huh?" A warm, gravelly voice that sent tingles down Cas' spine sounded behind him. Cas jumped at the noise and turned where he sat—Dean was standing in the doorway, leaning against the door, blocking out most of the light coming out from the inside of the house. Cas couldn't quite make out his expression—but it looked like Dean was wearing something of a sad smile. He wasn't even looking at the night sky—he was just gazing intently at Castiel. Cas hated it when he did that.

"Yes, I suppose." Cas said shortly. He turned back around, hugging his knees up to his chest, staring out at the grass and trees in front of him. He ignored the heat creeping down his neck, the fact that his cheeks were almost certainly going to be painted more than slightly red—and he ignored, with all of his being, the terrified, excited nervousness that fluttered through him as Dean sat down next to him.

"I'm so sorry, Cas." Dean looked at the ground now. There was no intense staring or loving gaze that came with this statement. More than anything, that made Cas question its sincerity.

It wasn't that he missed Dean's eyes upon his face.

Not at all.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Dean." Cas replied. He still stared out at the fields in front of them. The sunset was turning the sky into an array of dark, musky colours, and Cas once again denied the thought that this was an incredibly romantic location.

"I know." Dean replied. He was fumbling with his own hands, now—and Cas felt slightly annoyed that it was something that both he and Dean shared in doing when they were nervous—he disliked being even remotely associated with Dean at this moment in time. "I just want you to know I really regret what I did. And I'm so sorry I hurt you."

"I can't say that I forgive you, unfortunately." Cas replied. Bitter—was his tone actually bitter? It certainly sounded like it was. He also disliked the thought that Dean was making him bitter—he disliked the thought that Dean was making him feel anything. He wanted to move on from Dean, to be able to say with absolute certainty that he now felt nothing for the man. And he had so nearly been at that point. And then Dean had come along, all over again, and fucked things up. All over again.

"I get that—I wouldn't ever expect you to. I just wanted you to know that I am sorry, and I feel like shit for what I did—"

"Good." Cas retorted. "You deserve to. You broke my heart." And again, he hated the way his voice cracked with emotion at the end of his sentence—he hated the horrific cliché of 'You broke my heart'. And yet, there was no other way of phrasing it, no way of denying it now. Dean had. It was merely a truthful statement—no matter how horrible it was to think about.

"I know, Cassie." Dean nodded. His right foot toed at the ground as he spoke, and he stared at it determinedly, not able to look at Castiel. "And I'm so sorry for that. I don't know why I couldn't let myself be happy, I just—"

"It's not about you being happy, Dean, stop saying that. You left because you wanted to."

"I know." Dean said. He hung his head even lower. "And you're right—but please hear me out—"

"What if I don't want to?"

Dean looked up at Cas now. The jade eyes met blue. Cas' heart twitched at the motion. "Well," Dean started, his voice very small, "You'd have every right to think that way. And even though it'd hurt—well, I'd understand. I don't deserve anything from you, least of all your time to just make excuses for myself. There aren't any—I'm an asshole—I'm beyond that, I'm trash, and I fucked up the best thing that had ever happened to me. I don't deserve a second chance."

"No." Cas looked at the ground. "You don't."

Dean was silent. He looked at the ground, too, playing hopelessly with a few blades of grass. Cas attempted to fight the curl of amusement, coiling up through his body, but it was no use—he actually snorted a laugh.

"What?" Dean asked, looking up at Castiel. Cas would feel yet more happy, nervous flutters at the hopeful look Dean was giving him—the almost smile—but he was incredibly preoccupied by the fact that Dean was also looking like he was about to cry. His eyes were watery and his expression was covering another emotion—one that seemed incredibly troubled.

Cas ignored it. Dean didn't deserve his pity. Even if this kind of served as yet more proof of Dean's sincerity, of Dean's remorse. Of the fact that Dean still loved him.

"Asshole." Cas sighed a laugh again. "You always used to say that about yourself. It was either that or 'jerk', or 'dick'. And it was always when you were feeling sorry for yourself."

Dean's lips actually quirked up into a smile at this point. "Yeah." He nodded. "I'm pretty good at self-pity." He chuckled. "I always called you 'baby', too. Do you remember that?"

Cas insides twisted uncomfortably at this. "Yes, I do."

"It was cute." Dean laughed, looking back over the grounds.

"Please, Dean." Cas' voice almost bit back. He disliked the happy look on Dean's face, particularly when Cas was feeling so unhappy. He supposed that feeling bitterness was better than feeling affection—and so he didn't push the curl of anger and unhappiness away from him when it crept inside his head. "You called your car baby, too."

Dean's smile dropped. Cruel satisfaction knotted itself around Cas' heart.

"Yeah, I did." Dean nodded. "Sorry." His voice was small and sad again. It also had an incredibly apologetic tone, but Cas wanted to shove that part away from him—he didn't want Dean's apologies, he didn't want his excuses—he never wanted to forgive Dean for hurting him in the way he had.

"If you'd asked, I would've stopped calling it that. I'd have saved the name just for you if you wanted me to. If it bothered you, I would've stopped."

Cas snorted bitterly again. "I loved you, Dean, I didn't give a shit."

"Yeah." Dean nodded softly. "I'm sorry." He repeated.

"And stop saying that." Cas bit. "I don't want to forgive you."

Dean flicked his eyes back up to Cas', searching his face for any trace of insincerity at that statement. But he apparently couldn't seem to find any, which sent a twinge of happiness into Cas' gut—he was, apparently, finally managing to not give a fuck about Dean Winchester—but the happy feeling disappeared suddenly when Dean nodded and stood up, brushing himself off from the grassy ground which he had been sitting on.

"Sorry." Dean looked at the floor. "I only came here because I love you, but—"

"That isn't love!" Castiel shouted, now. Dean flinched backwards. "You can't just make a home in someone's heart-make them feel so… infinite—and then leave them with nothing! You can't break them—break everything they love—leave them lost and alone in the dark! And you certainly can't come back after almost a year and expect everything to be okay! Expect them to still want to be with you! I knew you had an impossible ego, Dean, but this?! Well, it's fucking astonishing!"

"Cas, I'm sorry—I'll go—" Dean said as Cas stood up, too.

"No, Dean! You're gonna stand here and fucking take it, because it's what you deserve! You deserve to hear this! And I deserve to be able to say it to you, at long last!" Cas bellowed, his voice cracking with all his emotions—ranging from fury to heartache.

"You're right, Cas." Dean replied, his voice very small. "It kills me to see how fucking much I hurt you, Cas, it really does."

Cas snorted, a dry, bitter laugh forming in his throat. "Oh, Dean. You have no idea. You have no fucking clue. But if it 'hurts' you to see me like this? Well, then, I really fucking wish you could see everything—every fucking feeling of misery and anger and confusion you cast in my heart—because if you did, maybe you'd hurt just half as much as I do right now."

Tears had actually, finally, leaked over onto Dean's cheeks, now. He swallowed hard. He looked empty, and Cas wanted, so badly, to remain furious with him—but now he just felt mortified by his own actions; childish and short tempered.

"You want me to go?" Dean asked. Cas couldn't reply. He swallowed and sat down, onto the grassy floor again. Tears, once more, were stinging at his eyes.

"I understand." Dean nodded. "I'll get out of your hair, now."

And with that, Dean Winchester left Castiel, once again. Cas' tears continued to prickle at Cas' eyes, but he refused to acknowledge them until they were falling, hot and heavy, onto his cheeks. Cas turned back to the grounds. He wasn't going to go back in. He hated parties, anyway.

"Cas?" Dean asked again, just as he reached the door back into the house.

"Yes?" Cas turned to look at Dean.

"Did I fuck up this time, too; or was it just that last time I hurt you too badly?"

"What do you mean?" Cas asked, perplexed.

"The reason that we can't—" Dean stopped, rubbing his face. "Did I say something wrong this time, or does it still hurt too much from when…" He trailed off, downheartedly.

Cas paused. He bit at his bottom lip and glanced at the ground for a moment, before looking back up at Dean. "No." He replied. "You were perfect this time around. I just…" He trailed off. "You were always perfect to me, Dean." He said quietly. He started staring at the grass again, unable to make eye contact with Dean.

"And you were always perfect to me." Dean replied, his voice cracking. "I'll leave now." He said, turning back around, his voice nearly lost in sorrow entirely.

But Cas didn't want that. He didn't want Dean to leave. The thought opened up the hollow, gaping hole inside of him and made it swallow any dream of happiness Cas had ever hoped for.

He didn't want Dean to leave again.

"Dean—" Cas' voice was choked and small, barely audiable, but it stopped Dean in his tracks.

"Yeah?" Dean asked. He sounded so hopeful—his voice was so gentle and adoring as he looked at Cas, and it sent flutters through all of Cas' body.

"Please don't go." Cas nearly whispered.

"What?" Dean asked. He didn't sound like he could believe what was happening—and Cas looked up into his eyes and was shocked to see that tears were actually still forming there, still falling onto Dean's face.

"Please—" Cas couldn't finish the sentence again. "Could you stay?" His voice cracked. "I need you to stay." He whispered.

Dean took a step away from the door—one towards Cas.

"Yeah—if you want that."

"I need it."

Dean nodded. His eyes were red and clouded over, and Cas' own were still stinging with tears. Dean took a few more steps towards Cas. His hand rested on Cas' shoulder for a moment, and Cas didn't pull away from the touch, and then Dean bent down and took Cas' hands gently in his own, pulling Cas up to stand in front of him. His hands entwined with Cas', and Cas didn't take a step back. He didn't want to. He wanted to press himself against Dean, and have Dean's arms wrapped around him once more, to have that feeling of safe and calm washing over him again.

"I'm so sorry, Cassie." Dean said quietly. He was looking at the ground, his voice shy and almost scared. "I fucked up so badly."

"Yes." Cas found himself shrugging. "You did." Dean's eyes flitted up to meet Cas', and he looked unspeakably nervous about what Cas was going to say next. "We both did, I guess. Just… don't go." Cas whispered. "Not again."

"Never again." Dean said. He pulled Cas towards him and his arms circled around Cas' body. Dean's face pressed into the crook of Cas' neck—he was holding Cas like he was the most important thing in the entire universe. Cas had missed this. He had missed this with his entire being, and now Dean was here again, and holding Cas like he was the only thing that mattered.

"I need you, Cas." Dean breathed against Cas' neck. Cas shivered and pressed himself tighter into Dean's arms. "I need you." He repeated, over and over into Cas' ears.

Cas didn't know how to respond. Dean didn't seem to mind. His hand found its way into Cas' hair, and it stroked at it gently. Cas leant into the touch. He didn't want to pull away from Dean—not any more.

Dean breathed against Cas—his breath was hot and soft and it felt almost intoxicating to be this close to Dean, but Cas couldn't pull away; the idea of going without Dean again was too awful to bear.

"I'm so sorry." Dean whispered against Cas again.

"I know." Cas replied simply.

Dean took a deep breath—as though he was about to say something, but then the two of them froze as they heard voices coming down the corridor inside.

"—Oh" Anna said as she stepped out into the dark air. "I'm interrupting—sorry." A grin spread quickly across her face, and Cas quickly pulled himself out of Dean's arms, untangling himself from Dean's body. Cas glanced up at Dean, who was looking at the ground again, his eyes suddenly void of emotion except disappointment and sadness.

"Does this mean the two of you are—"

"Anna, don't." Cas ran a hand through his hair, taking another step away from Dean, who looked even more upset at this.

"Alright—sorry." Anna said awkwardly. "Well, Michael organised fireworks, and they're about to start out here, so…" She trailed off uncomfortably. Just as she did so, Gabriel peered round the doorframe.

"Hey, Dean." He grinned. "You two aren't back together, yet, are you?"

Cas squinted at his older brother. "You—" he broke off. Gabriel grinned. Cas' insides twisted—he knew that look far too well. "You organised this?! You invited Dean and you—"

"Of course we did, genius."

"You're a fucking asshole, Gabriel!" Cas said, running a hand through his hair again. "You too." He said to Anna. "I can't believe this!" He shook his head, a disgusted line forming between his eyebrows.

"Hey, no need to thank us." Gabriel smirked, but Cas didn't want to hear it. More people were coming out onto the lawn, staring at the encounter between Cas and his two older siblings.

Cas needed to think. He needed to get away. He couldn't fucking take his siblings right now, and he couldn't deal with talking to Dean either.

Why had he and Dean shared that moment? Why had he allowed that to happen?

He had been so swept away by the feeling of Dean's hands on his body, so enchanted by his pretty little words that he had completely forgotten what it was Dean had actually done to him. And now it was all coming flooding back.

Cas turned on his heel and walked away, into the dark. He didn't need any of this. He had no idea where it was he was going, where it was the fireworks would be taking place, and therefore how to avoid them, but he didn't care. He had to get out of there.

"Cas, wait!" Dean called, apparently choosing now of all moments to snap out of his daze. But Cas didn't care. Dean had been part of this. Dean, Gabriel, Anna, and no doubt Sam, too, had all had a hand in arranging for Dean and Cas to see each other again that night, and Castiel couldn't fucking stand it. He was too tired of people telling him what to do.

"Castiel!" Cas heard his brother, Michael, call his name, and of all people, Michael seemed like the only person Cas could probably stand talking to at that moment. But Cas still didn't stop walking.

Not until he reached a large oak tree did he stop, and sit at the base of it, using its knotted roots as a support for himself. His breath was unsteady from his fast paced, lengthy walk.

The large manor house was still visible; it cast a yellow light around itself in the dark air of the night. Cas worried at his lip and sighed.

In retrospect, he now had no idea why it was he had been so angry with himself, and everybody else, when it had been revealed that Anna and Gabriel had actually planned this. He didn't know why he had been so angry with Dean, in particular.

Dean had made every effort to attempt to see Cas again, primarily to simply apologise. He wanted Cas to be happy. He regretted what he had done. And he had also admitted that he still loved Cas, and that he'd stay with Castiel forever if he so wished—surely that meant that Dean also wanted to start again with Cas, to be with him again? It had to.

And Cas had really missed Dean. Although he could barely bring himself to admit it.

Castiel kicked at the ground, scuffing his shoe on the roots of the giant oak. He could hear the voices of all those attending the reception in the distance; they were filled with anticipation for the show. There was also music, Cas supposed, to set the mood, although it must have cost an extraordinary amount to have so many speakers set up, particularly outside, and Cas wondered once again what kind of unnatural sum of money it was Michael had spent on his own reception. Then again, judging by the way Michael looked at Rachel, he seemed to think she was certainly worth it.

"Cassie?" Michael's voice was very gentle. Cas looked up and saw his brother approaching him cautiously, concern written all over his face. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Cas shrugged, sighing. "Shouldn't you be spending this time with your lovely new wife?"

"I've got an entire lifetime to do that." Michael winked, and Cas found himself quirking a small smile. "Besides, she wants to know if you're okay, too."

"Well, thank you both for your concern, it's very touching and all, but like I said: I'm fine."

"You're a shitty liar." Michael laughed. He sat down by the tree, next to Cas, their shoulders brushing. "Did things not go well with you and Dean, then?" He asked, his voice turning suddenly very serious and gentle. He had phrased his question painfully cautiously.

"Things went fine. He said just about everything perfectly. That's part of the problem."

"What do you mean?"

"That's how he was last time. When we first met. And last time it hurt so much when he left—I can't—"

"I don't think he wants to leave you again, Cassie."

"How do you know that?" Cas asked, looking up at his older brother.

"I just do." Michael laughed. "Call it an older brother's intuition, or whatever. But he's sorry for what he did, and I don't think even he knows why he did it."

"So how am I meant to be reassured by that?" Castiel asked. "Surely that just means he's more likely to leave again, if he doesn't know why he did in the first place."

"Yeah." Michael sighed, shrugging. "I guess there is that. And I could try convincing you otherwise, but no offense, Cas, you're impossibly stubborn."

"So why are you even here, then?" Cas asked, sighing in frustration.

"Dean wants to know if he can talk to you. Or if he really should leave, this time."

"I don't want him to go…" Cas started, biting his lip.

"I didn't think you would." Michael replied.

"But I don't know what to say to him either." Cas continued. "He probably thinks I've become some broody, angry, easily annoyed idiot since he left, who'll flip at the smallest comment or revelation."

"You weren't already?" Michael grinned, and Cas elbowed his brother hard in the stomach. "Ouch!" Michael exclaimed, laughing. "No, seriously, Castiel, if he does think that, it's not exactly putting him off."

"What do you mean?" Cas asked, frowning slightly.

"He wants to be with you again. If you'll take him, that is. He sounded pretty desperate when he told me just now."

Had Dean really said that?

"But I don't know if I still want to be with him." Cas replied, miserably.

"So find out." Michael shrugged. "Talk to him. Again."

"But he really hurt me…" Cas replied, his voice very small. He hugged his knees up to his chest and looked up at the ever darkening sky, feeling unspeakably childish.

"And he's really sorry." Michael replied. "And he came back—more than once. It's just the other times, he was kind of too late, and he'd only just missed you—like when he came back to your apartment, but you'd already left." Michael sighed and raised his eyebrows at Cas. "And if you remember, Castiel, you weren't exactly completely innocent in that fight, either. I mean, from what you've told me—which admittedly, probably wasn't everything—you said some pretty hurtful things to him that night, too. Like comparing him to his father—and in fairness, I don't know much about the guy, and I don't know just how much Dean dislikes the thought of being like him. But it must have hurt Dean a lot to know that the guy he loved most in the world thought that he was like thought he was acting like—well, a guy Dean's probably spent most of his life trying to avoid being similar to."

Cas looked down. Michael was right—and he felt a little ashamed to think about it.

"And you said you wanted to keep your relationship with him a secret, even when you were engaged—I mean, that must have hurt." Michael continued.

"But he left me—"

"—And I'm not saying that wasn't wrong of him. I know that it hurt you—but it hurt him, too. And it was both of you who had a fight. Both of you were involved in it—not just him. And he tried to get you back, loads of times. And now he's trying again, one more time—and Cas, I think you should talk to him."

"You really think I should?"

"Of course. But it's not about what I want, Cassie. It's your decision."

"I do want to talk to him..." Cas' voice was quiet and thoughtful, and he hated to think this, but it was almost certainly true—his voice was also nervous.

"Alright." Michael nodded, patting Cas' shoulder. "I'll go send him over." He offered his brother a small, encouraging smile, which Cas returned, although not half-heartedly, and Michael got up and set off, back towards the mass of people.

Cas' gaze returned to the root-covered ground. The isolation and natural darkness of his spot helped to calm his spirit, and by the time Dean came to the tree, Cas was feeling almost serene.

"Hey, Cas." He said. A small, shy, lop-sided smile had formed on his face, and he had stuffed his hands inside his pockets, which looked a little ridiculous, considering his formal attire.

"Hello, Dean." Cas returned the smile, almost as shyly as Dean had given it. He felt like an idiot for how he had acted earlier—like a child, almost. He had no idea why he'd flipped so suddenly, it wasn't like what was revealed should have come as a surprise, or anything—of course Dean had received help in trying to see Cas again that night—and Anna and Gabriel had helped him, only because they knew how broken Cas felt without Dean in his life. Why did Cas always have to complicate things so much?

"I'm really sorry about earlier—"

"What do you mean?" Cas asked, slightly perplexed. As far as he was concerned, Dean had behaved admirably; almost perfectly.

"I should've told you that Anna and Gabriel helped me get to see you again—I should've told you that we all planned this whole thing out."

"Oh, right." Cas nodded. "No, that's okay. I guess I was just frustrated to have been left out of things, but then, that could only be expected—I mean, I would've refused to come to the reception point blank to come if I'd have known—"

Cas cut himself off. Dean looked almost hurt, but the worst thing was the understanding that flooded from his features as Cas spoke.

"I didn't mean it like that." Cas said quickly.

"No, it's fine." Dean nodded.

"No, it's not that—I just—it would've been a big mistake if I had refused to speak to you, as far as I'm concerned. I'm glad you did all of this—I'm glad you came."

The corners of Dean's mouth lifted into a small smile, and it sent thrills through Cas to watch.

"You really mean that?" Dean asked.

"Yes." Cas nodded. He returned Dean's smile, which made Dean break out into a beam. "I do."

Dean's expression softened as he spoke next; "I'm really sorry about earlier—with the, um—"

"The what?" Cas asked, very confused.

"The—hugging?" Dean said. "For want of a better word. I shouldn't have touched you like that—"

"You're sorry about the hug?" Cas asked.

"Well, yeah—I didn't know if you wanted to or not—I should've asked, and I didn't, and as soon as we stopped it looked like you regretted it, so—"

"I didn't regret it, Dean."

"Really?" Dean asked. His smile returned, although in far smaller and more subtle proportions.

"Well—I sort of did, at first. But that was only because I was feeling angry, and I guess, a little confused. And I don't, now."

"Yeah?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Cas confirmed. There was a pause. Dean was still smiling, looking—although Cas hated to admit it—adorably elated. "Do you want to sit down?" Cas asked, indicating to some space next to him. He immediately felt like an idiot—he was sitting on some fucking tree roots—

"Yeah." Dean said quickly. "I would."

Cas looked back up at Dean and saw his smile growing ever bigger. He hated the chills it sent down his spine; loathed the butterflies it filled him with.

"Okay." Cas nodded. He moved along to give Dean more room, and Dean sat cautiously next to him, careful not to invade Cas' personal space.

"It's a beautiful night." Dean observed, looking up at the sky, growing ever darker, overhead.

"I believe you've already mentioned that." Cas replied. Dean blushed furiously and looked away.

"Yeah—sorry—" He started, but Cas felt himself smile and he found Dean's hand resting on the ground, and cautiously entwined his own fingers with Dean's. Dean looked stunned, to say the least, but then he broke out into a beam, his gaze soft and adoring on Cas as he looked down at the dark haired man.

"But it is." Cas nodded. "Very beautiful."

Dean smiled and leant in closer to Cas, before jumping back for a moment.

"Is this okay?" He asked. "Me being this close to you?"

"Yeah. It is." Cas nodded. Dean's shoulder brushing against his own was so warm—the touch flooded him with so much joy, so much nervousness, that he almost had to jump back himself. But instead, he breathed deeply—he tried to breath in the scent of Dean as subtly as he could—the scent of home, the scent of everything he had loved, everything he had lost. He found himself resting his head on Dean's shoulder, and Dean looked like he could punch the air with joy. He leant in closer to Cas, stroking his thumb across Cas' knuckles softly. Cas almost closed his eyes contentedly at the touch, but he bit his lip and reminded himself not to.

The night air against Cas' bare skin was so cold—but he couldn't even think about it, not compared to Dean's touch against his skin, through his clothes; the feeling of Dean against him. Dean was so warm, so gentle, so caring, and Cas could feel his heart pounding furiously against his chest to be this close to Dean once more.

He imagined what it would have been like if he and Dean had never had the fight—would the two of them be married, now? Would they have bought a house of their own? Would Cas have told Michael he was gay, yet? Dean and Michael would have certainly had better introductions if all of this had never happened, Cas thought. Perhaps the two of them would even get along well—would be close, just as Dean and his other sibling had been, before the fight. There was no reason why Dean and Michael couldn't get along now, though, Cas thought to himself. Admittedly, the two had had a rocky start—but now that Dean had explained himself, it sounded a lot like Michael understood him a lot more—understood his actions, even if he wasn't happy with them. More than Gabriel and Anna had—who were admittedly far less reasonable siblings.

Cas was so tired of hurting. He had wanted Dean back in his life for so long, and here Dean was again, promising Cas he'd never leave it; not ever, not for as long as Cas wanted him there. Cas found himself giving a small smile. Warmth and affection for Dean flooded through him, and he allowed the little box in his chest to open up a little. The thought—the knowledge that Dean still loved him made thrills of nervousness and happiness coil through him.

"I'd rather choke than have to breathe without you." Dean whispered against Cas' hair.

Cas had to smile at that—not least, because of how corny it was, how unexpected it was that Dean should say something like that. And also because Dean's words made Cas want to curl up in his arms even more.

"Sorry." Dean laughed. "That one was pretty awful."

"No." Cas smiled, pressing himself closer against Dean, feeling blissful as one of Dean's arms wrapped its way around Cas' body. "I liked it."

Dean smiled against the top of Cas' head and nosed gently at his hair—Cas could feel his heart pounding excitedly at the motion.

"I couldn't stand without you, Castiel. I couldn't walk." Dean breathed. "I was so lost."

"I'm not a crutch, Dean." Cas laughed, and he felt Dean chuckle into the top of his head. "Or a map."

"I know." Dean laughed. "But you kind of were mine."

There was a small silence. It wasn't uncomfortable at all. It was just that nothing more needed to be said between the two of them. They both understood.

"Did I ever tell you I could name the stars?" Dean asked seriously, breaking the comfortable quiet that had fallen between them.

"No, you didn't." Cas smiled. "Can you really?"

"Yeah." Dean grinned.

"Show me some." Cas said quietly.

Dean tilted Cas' chin up softly, so he was looking at a certain point in the night sky, and Cas didn't object.

"You see that group, there?" Dean asked quietly into Cas' ear, as he pointed up at to a specific point in the night sky.

"Yeah." Cas nodded, shivering slightly at Dean's voice in his ear.

"That's what most people call the Big Dipper, but it's not actually a constellation. It's part of a bigger group of stars—they're called Ursa Major, and that is a constellation. It means 'Big Bear'."

Cas nodded slightly. "Right" He said. He leant closer against Dean and he felt Dean huff a small, happy breath in reaction. "So what's the Big Dipper, then, if it's not a constellation?"

"An asterism." Dean replied. His thumb brushed at Cas' knuckles again.

"An asterism?" Cas repeated, feeling himself smile, simply at the sound of Dean's words, his voice, so warm and affectionate as he spoke to Castiel.

"Yeah." Dean nodded. He was unspeakably close to Castiel now, and Cas was finding it incredibly hard to breathe again.

"How do you know this stuff?" He asked.

"Oh, my mom taught it all to me. She loved astronomy. And I've never forgotten it since."

Cas smiled gently.

"It really is beautiful." He nodded, looking up at the night sky.

"Almost as beautiful as you." Dean grinned, gazing down at Cas in something mixed between amusement and adoration.

Cas ducked his head and flushed red, butterflies filling his insides once more.

"You're so fucking clichéd." Cas laughed, still looking down.

"I always was." Dean grinned.

There was a silence again. The two of them continued to gaze at each other—Dean looking at Castiel with so much wonder Cas felt dizzy, like he was going to fall—all he wanted was for Dean's arms to be there to catch him when he did.

"I'd kill to be your man again, Castiel" Dean whispered.

Cas glanced back up at Dean—the look of adoration was still filling his gaze. Cas' gaze flitted down to Dean's lips, before back up into Dean's eyes, and once again, Dean looked as though he was about to say something, and as though the two of them were going to finally close the stifling distance between the two of them, as though their lips were about to meet—but just then, a loud bang overhead interrupted him, and the two jumped in shock.

"Jesus!" Dean shouted as lights from the firework filled the sky. "I thought someone had started firing a fucking gun, or something!"

Cas started laughing, and Dean glanced over to him and pushed him lightly, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up, Cas." Dean chuckled. "You jumped too."

"True, I did." Cas grinned, leaning back in to Dean. "But it was just hilarious watching you scream."

"You're a dick." Dean rolled his eyes again. Cas grinned and took Dean's hands in his own once more.

Dean beamed, and there was contented silence for a moment, before Dean squeezed Cas' hands suddenly.

"I'm really fucking sorry, Cas. For everything. I really am."

Cas looked up at Dean, his eyes searching Dean's face.

"I know I keep saying it, but I just want you to know—"

"I know." Cas replied.

"Is there any chance of you forgiving me?" Dean asked.

Cas looked down at the earthy ground for a minute. That was a difficult question.

"I don't know." Cas replied honestly. On the one hand, in just a few hours, Dean had made him feel so peaceful and happy and contented again—more so than he had felt in an unbearably long time—but on the other hand, Cas still hurt so much after what Dean had done to him. And he didn't know if he was ready to forgive him yet. "I don't think I can—not right now, at least. I still… it still hurts too much, you know? But…" Cas trailed off. "I do want to forgive you. And I hope one day I can—I just don't think that time has come yet."

"That's okay." Dean nodded.

"I'm not ready to forgive you." Castiel continued, his voice cracking, his eyes staring off at a point in the distance. "But I am ready to start." He turned back to Dean, looking him steadily, nervously in the eye. "I want to start."

Dean looked at the floor, before licking his lips suddenly and looking back at Cas.

"Wait, so there's a chance that one day you might?"

"Well, yes." Cas replied. If he was honest, there was more than simply a chance of him forgiving Dean, but he didn't want to admit that just yet. "I hope I can."

"Thank you." Dean smiled. "For everything."

Cas smiled again—he wasn't quite sure what it was he had done so far that earned him a 'Thanks' from Dean, but he leant back against Dean, and Dean's arm wrapped itself around Cas' shoulders, before finding its way into Cas' hair and stroking softly at it. It was all that Cas could do to stop himself from purring at the touch.

"I've missed this." Dean stated quietly against Cas.

"I've missed it, too." Cas replied.

The fireworks continued to go off overhead; their bright and vivid colours contrasting greatly with the velvet, navy-black of night.

"Fireworks, eh?" Dean chuckled against Cas' hair.

"I know." Cas laughed. "We seem to be making a habit of them."

"We do." Dean agreed, smiling against Cas.

There was a long silence as the two of them continued to watch the show in front of them. They could hear the muffled sound of the music from the speakers in the distance, accompanying the fireworks' bangs and flashes of bright light, and even more muffled and distant than that, the sound of people's cheers and clapping.

Cas' head was resting on Dean's shoulder, their breaths were matching in rhythm and pace, and Dean's fingers were still making their way, carefully, gently, through Cas' hair.

"Cas?" Dean asked, breaking the calm quiet that had washed over the two of them.

"Yes?" Cas replied—he had been feeling so relaxed that he almost felt sleepy.

"I really am sorry for what I did—to you—for hurting you—"

"Dean, I know you are." Cas replied. "And for the record—I understand why you were so pissed off—I'd been kind of taking advantage of you—of how patient you were, of—"

"Cas, that's not true."

"It is, Dean." Cas sighed. "And then I compared you to your dad—and that was a seriously asshole-ish move, on my part. It really was—"

"But I left you—I overreacted—"

"But I was the one who'd pissed you off to begin with. And it was understandable that you were. I mean, seriously, I was such a dick for comparing you to your dad—it was a horrible thing to say—"

"It was true…"

"It really wasn't, Dean. I'm just as much of an ass as you are."

"You're not."

"Jesus, Dean, stop being so fucking stubborn." Cas laughed. "I said something horrible to you, when you were already upset. And it couldn't have been further from the truth. I loved you—I still—" Cas cut himself off short. Dean looked up at this—so much hope and need and adoration was glimmering in his eyes, and Castiel didn't know how to react. "What I'm trying to say is;" He sighed, something in his heart panging painfully, "As much as you'd like me to forgive you, I'd also like you to forgive me. For everything. Do you think you could ever do that?" He asked, looking up at Dean, who's eyes were glazed over as he gazed down at Cas.

"Of course I could, Cas—" Dean broke off, his voice cracking. "Of course. I love you—of course I forgive you."

Cas smiled as Dean continued to stare down at him. He stared into those beautiful, kind, sincere, forest green eyes, and felt something stir inside of him. He longed to lean forward just a little, to graze his lips against Dean's, but he was far too scared to do that. Far too terrified. He felt another gush of longing for Dean's arms, his hands, his lips, his touch.

"I'm also sorry for overreacting so much back there."

"Overreacting?" Dean asked, frowning slightly.

"Yeah." Cas nodded. "For shouting—for giving you all that shit—"

"I deserved that, Cas."

"You really didn't." Cas replied. "Remember, I was just as much a part of that big fight as you were—I asked you to keep the two of us a secret, of all things—and when we were engaged—"

"You were scared, Cas—"

"It's not an excuse."

There was another pause. Cas looked at the ground.

"I'm also sorry for all and any of the shit my siblings have been giving you." Cas said.

Dean started laughing, and he squeezed Cas' hand softly. Cas could've sworn his heart swelled three sizes too big at the motion.

"Yeah. They can be pretty intense—"

"They can be assholes." Cas rolled his eyes.

"Can't we all?" Dean grinned, and Cas started laughing too, staring into Dean's eyes once more. Even as he spoke to Dean, his eyes looked happier, younger, and as Dean smiled, Cas could see the weight of guilt being lifted off of them. It made him strangely elated to see.

"You came back for me." Cas beamed, feeling joy thrum through his body at the thought.

"Of course I did, Cassie." Dean beamed back. "I'm just sorry I didn't do it sooner."

Cas laughed quietly and looked at the ground.

"You still love me?" Cas asked shyly, yet again, staring earnestly into Dean's eyes.

"Of course I do." Dean replied sincerely. "I'm so in love with you. Still. Always."

"Why did you come back?" Cas asked.

"Because I need you, Cas."

There was a pause—Cas felt something thrill though him at that—he wanted Dean's lips on his own again more than anything now. He would only have to lean forward a tiny amount, and the two would be—

"Cas?" Dean asked again, sounding very nervous all of a sudden. "Is there any chance of you giving me a second go—of giving us another shot?"

Cas' lips quirked up into a smile. So that was what Dean had been about to say each of those times the pair had got interrupted.

Yes. That was the honest answer. Truthfully, there was every chance of him wanting himself and Dean getting back together—and he certainly hoped they would. Right in that moment, he wanted that more than anything. It all felt so simple, sitting there with Dean. Cas recalled in wonder how easy it had been to first fall in love with Dean. Perhaps that was why it had hurt so much when Dean left. That and the fact that Cas' entire world had felt like it was collapsing around him.

"What would happen if we did? What would you do differently?" Cas asked.

Dean pulled away slightly from Cas—for a horrible moment, Cas thought he had offended Dean in some way, scared him off. But Dean tilted Cas' head back and placed his hands on Cas' face, his thumbs brushing softly at Cas' cheeks. Cas' breath hitched at the touch, and his heart forgot how to continue beating.

"I'd never leave you." Dean whispered. "I'd never stop loving you—I never have, and I never will—and I'd show that to you every day of my life, if you let me. I'd not be a selfish asshole—we'd move in together, again, maybe, and we'd get engaged, and move into that cute little house we always talked about. And if you wanted, we'd get a dog—or a cat, whatever—and we could have kids, if you wanted, too—I know I want that, but it'd be totally up to you, when the time came—we could adopt them, or whatever. I'd love to start a family with you, Cas. I really would. And then we'd grow old together, and I'd probably lose my incredible good looks," Dean grinned, winking, and Cas blushed yet again, wanting to look down, but finding his eyes unbreakably locked with Deans, "—but we'd still love each other so much. And we'd spend the rest of our lives together. And you'd never have to live without me again; as long as you wanted me to be there, I'd be there. I'd never leave you again."

Cas had forgotten to breathe for the entirety of Dean's speech. He attempted to do so now, but it got caught in his throat. His mouth was unspeakably dry, and he licked his lips.

"I want that." Cas nodded, his voice cracking. "I want that more than anything."

"I want that, too." Dean beamed, his eyes clouding over again. "And I'm so sorry, Castiel. I'm so sorry. And I really, really want to kiss you right now."

"Then you probably should." Cas croaked.

Dean beamed again, his thumbs grazing Cas' cheeks. "Can I kiss you, Cas?" He asked, his forehead resting on Castiel's.

"Yes." Cas nodded. "Please." Dean broke out into a beam before pressing his lips against Cas'. It was barely a touch at first, a simple graze as Dean stared lovingly into Cas' eyes, and then Dean pressed his lips against Cas' again, and Castiel's eyes fluttered closed as Dean's hands slid down Cas' neck to cradle his back.

Dean's lips were soft and undemanding; filled with so much love, yet they were so tender on Cas' own. Dean was being deliberately gentle, he was barely kissing Cas at all; merely letting Cas lead the way while his arms wrapped tightly around Cas' body.

His hands were stroking softly at Cas' spine as the two continued to kiss—it was a beautiful balance between familiar and entirely new for Castiel to be with Dean like this again. Dean's lips were slightly chapped, his strong hands a little calloused, but it only made the experience more delightful for Cas—more real.

The scent of Dean was almost intoxicating, overpowering. Cas had wanted to have Dean like this again so badly, for what felt like a lifetime—he had missed this so very much. Cas couldn't even stop himself when a moan escaped his mouth, lost in the kiss, and Dean grinned against Cas in reaction to it, their noses grazing each other gently as Dean let out a small, elated sigh.

Cas broke apart from Dean—it almost hurt to be kissing him in this way again, but at the same time he could barely bring himself to stop. He rested his forehead on Dean's for a moment, whilst attempting to catch his breath, and Dean spoke gently to him, his hands still stroking up and down Cas' spine.

"We don't need to do anything else, Cas." Dean breathed. "And we don't need to go any further, either. Not if you don't want to. We can stop kissing completely, if you want."

"I don't want to stop." Cas breathed, his heart hammering against his ribcage. "I just—" He broke off. He didn't know what to say.

"I understand." Dean nodded. "We can have a little break." His hands moved up to cup Cas' face again. "We can go back to the party, if you like—take things slow, you know."

Cas nodded, a smile pulled at his lips as he and Dean continued to gaze at each other. That sounded good. He didn't want Dean to go—he never wanted Dean to leave again, but being like this with him, so soon, too, hurt to do. And Dean's eyes were filled with understanding as he gazed at Cas—understanding and warmth and affection and a hell of a lot of remorse. And Cas felt reassured to know Dean felt all of those things towards him.

"You're so beautiful." Dean smiled, grazing his thumb across Cas' cheek before kissing him gently on the forehead and helping him up. Cas smiled shyly and ducked his head, thanking the heavens that it was too dark for Dean to be able to see his red cheeks, too.

Dean's lips quirked upwards into an even bigger smile. "Can I still hold your hand?" He asked, offering his own to Cas.

Cas chuckled quietly. "Yes, Dean. That sounds good."

Dean beamed and reached for Cas' hand, squeezing it gently and leading Cas back towards the flock of people, all standing near the manor house. The fireworks had all but completely ended now, and all the guests were doing at this point was gathering in small clusters and chatting, drinks in one hand. Music was still playing in the background, and Cas could hear it, even from the distance that he and Dean were from any of the speakers.

"How've you been, Cas?" Dean asked cautiously as the two of them walked together.

"You don't need to sound so scared, you know, Dean." Cas chuckled, glancing amusedly over to Dean.

"Sorry." Dean blushed, ducking his head. Cas grinned—he had always found Dean unspeakably cute when he was feeling shy or nervous.

"I've been okay." Cas smiled. "I've um—I've missed you a lot. And for a long time I wasn't okay. But I've been getting better, I think."

Dean nodded; regret filling his expression once again. "I'm sorry." He repeated, and Cas had to break eye contact with him and look at the ground.

"I think I'm getting better now, too." He smiled at Dean, who's expression softened, giving Cas a look that made him feel dizzy and drunk. "I've been writing, though." Cas continued, looking back up at Dean.

"Oh?" Dean smiled even more now—it made Cas feel a lot happier to see. "What have you written?"

"Well, I haven't got it published yet, or anything, but I've written my first draft for a book—all I need to do now is go over it and then send it to the publishers to see if they like it, but I'm pretty nervous about that, so I've been putting it off quite a lot."

"I bet it's awesome." Dean beamed. "You shouldn't be nervous at all—they'll love it."

"I'm not sure—I'm just really scared of rejection." Cas laughed, a little downheartedly.

"Hey, don't be." Dean smiled, reassuringly. "You know J.K. Rowling sent the first Harry Potter book off to a whole bunch of publishers—and all of them rejected it—before she finally got her lucky break."

"Yes, that's true." Cas nodded, laughing.

"And now she's world fucking famous."

"Yes." Cas laughed again. "I very much doubt that'd happen to me, though, even if it did get published. No, I'm fairly certain my books would receive very little attention, if any, and perhaps get a small underground following, if I was lucky. But that's it."

"Don't say that." Dean squeezed Cas' hand. "You're an amazing writer."

Cas' lips quirked upwards.

"And well done on getting inspiration, by the way. I remember writers block was always something of a bitch whenever you tried to write back when we were—" Dean broke of awkwardly. Cas decided to ignore it.

"Yes, I suppose I did always get a little stuck. But I think suffering again helped me think of something to write—and I quit my job on the show—it was sort of sucking the life out of me." Cas laughed.

"Oh—I know about that." Dean glanced down. Cas raised his eyebrows questioningly at the taller man. "Well—you know when we—yeah… Just after you left the apartment, and I found out, I started looking for you everywhere, but I couldn't find you—and then I went to your work and asked there, and they said you'd quit. And after that I was kind of stuck as to where I should look." Dean explained, sounding mortified.

"Right." Cas nodded.

"God, I sound like such a creep." Dean rubbed his forehead, and Cas' lips twitched upwards.

"But you tried to find me again." He smiled. Dean looked down at him.

"Well, yeah. I had to. I can't live without you, Cas."

Cas blushed and squeezed Dean's hand.

"But anyway—you've been writing! That's great! Do you think you'll ever let me read it?" Dean winked at Cas.

Cas' face gushed with red once more—why did Dean always seem to have this effect on him?!

"If you wanted to…" Cas said quietly. "I don't expect you would, though—it's not very interesting."

"Hey, don't say that!" Dean exclaimed. "I already know it's going to be fucking awesome. What's it about?" He asked.

"Angels." Cas blushed. "And people."

"Angels?" Dean grinned.

"Yes." Cas confirmed, looking away from Dean again, red quickly spreading across his face.

Dean squeezed Cas' hand. "I can't wait to read it when it gets published." He emphasised the 'when' in the sentence, purposefully not saying 'if', and it filled Cas with very happy butterflies to hear.

"So if you quit your job at the show, what do you do now?"

"Oh, I still write for TV shows." Cas explained. "Just not that one, any more. It was horribly negative, and Zachariah was an unbearable influence in my life."

"Yeah, I got that vibe from him." Dean grinned. "So, what do you write for now?"

"I write for two shows, now. Before, when I only wrote for one, it was already fairly stressful, so now things are very busy, but I enjoy them a lot more. My bosses are a lot nicer." He grinned, and Dean nodded and chuckled. "One show is a family sci-fi." Cas blushed.

"Hey, that's awesome!" Dean grinned. "I love sci-fi!"

"You do." Cas nodded, still feeling very red.

"Maybe I've seen it?"

"I doubt that very much, seeing as we aren't done filming the first series yet, and so it remains unreleased—unless you've snuck onto set during our takes, or something."

"No, I haven't done that." Dean grinned. "I'm not that creepy, believe it or not."

Cas chuckled and leant in to Dean, who looked absolutely thrilled at this.

"Will I get to see it at some point?" Dean smiled.

"Well, I can't exactly stop you, now, can I?" Cas laughed. "It'll be on TV at some point soon, so you'll probably catch it if you want to."

"I'd love to." Dean beamed. "I bet you're an awesome writer."

Cas blushed again and bit his lip, and Dean grinned down at him to see this.

"God, now I remember another reason why I had it so bad for you—well, why I still do."

"What?" Cas asked, feeling a little confused.

"You're so freaking cute, Cas. On top of everything else."

"Oh." Cas blushed furiously.

"What's the other show you write for?" Dean asked, stroking Cas' hand softly.

"Oh—that one's a crime drama. It's in the second series, so you may have actually seen it on TV."

"I'm not a crime-drama kind of guy." Dean admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "So I probably won't have. But Sammy might've—you could ask him."

"Oh, okay."

"And hey, how about I start watching it—if you're the one writing it I bet it'll be awesome." Dean beamed.

"I'm not so sure…" Cas looked at the ground.

"Well, it's a good thing I am." Dean beamed.

Cas blushed yet again.

"So, what have you been doing?" Cas asked.

"I've been putting my life back together in silence." Dean shrugged. "I've been drinking." As he said this, he frowned and pressed his lips together in a thin line. "I've been missing you—a lot. But nothing as awesome or as productive as what you've got done."

Cas looked at the ground again. He didn't know what to say to this.

The two had finally approached the crowd of people, and they could now see a small platform where the music was coming from. Gabriel appeared to be managing all the songs that came on, and Anna was standing beside it talking to a tall man with brown hair. As soon as she saw Dean and Castiel approaching, she broke out into a beam and started waving excitedly at the two of them. Dean grinned and waved back, but Cas rolled his eyes and ignored his older sister.

Anna leant up onto the platform and tugged at Gabriel's shirt, and Gabriel bent down and let her whisper something in his ear—Cas couldn't tell what it would be the two of them were talking about, but Gabriel grinned as she spoke and nodded quickly. Anna turned back to the two of them and ran over—something which thoroughly impressed Cas, due to the fact she was wearing a formal dress and heels.

"Hey, guys." She beamed. "How's it going?" She asked—indicating between the two of them to emphasise what the 'it' here meant. Cas felt his face heat for the umpteenth time that night.

"I think Cas had better answer that, really." Dean beamed down at Cas.

Anna turned to Cas and grinned at him, raising her eyebrows questioningly.

"Yes." Cas sighed at his sister. "It's going well, I think."

"Is Dean back in your good books yet?" Anna asked, still grinning.

"Seriously, Anna?" Cas sighed again, feeling very embarrassed.

"Okay, okay, fine." Anna said, raising her hands in mock surrender. "I'll leave you two alone again." She winked.

She waved and ran back to the platform; the man with light brown hair was still waiting for Anna beside it.

"Who's that guy she's with?" Dean asked, indicating to the man.

"I have no idea." Cas replied, laughing. "He's probably terrified right now, though, seeing as Anna's talking to him."

"Probably." Dean agreed, grinning. He turned to face Cas, taking Cas' other hand in his own. "So am I in you good books, yet?" He asked, a small smile quirking at his lips.

Cas laughed quietly and glanced down. "I don't know." He replied honestly. "I want you to be there, though." He laughed, embarrassedly. "I don't know if that makes sense…"

"It does—and I'm glad." Dean beamed. "I'll spend the rest of my life proving how sorry I am, if you'll let me."

Cas licked his lips awkwardly. "You really mean all of that stuff?" He asked quietly.

"Of course." Dean nodded sincerely, gazing intently into Cas' eyes. "I'm so sorry. And I love you so much—and I know you're nowhere near ready to say that to me, yet, and that's fine. I've got to prove how much I mean it, first, and then you can decide if you want me to stay in your life. But I promise I'll make everything up to you, Cas. I'll never let you feel alone again—I'll never ever stop loving you."

Cas smiled sadly. A sad ache was forming in his chest.

"I promise you I mean it." Dean said quietly. He tugged lightly at Cas' sleeves and ran his hands up Cas' arms. Cas took a step closer and one of Dean's hands rested on his back, the other stroked gently at Cas' hair again. "I really am so sorry, Cas."

"I know." Cas nodded. "I'm sorry, too. And I don't want you to leave—ever again…" Cas trailed off. He didn't know exactly how it was he could continue. Dean lifted his hand to Cas' face and brushed his thumb across Cas' cheek softly.

"I've missed you." Dean smiled gently.

"And I you." Cas returned, looking back up into Dean's intense jade eyes. They were still just as beautiful as the first day Cas had laid eyes upon Dean; his eyelashes were just as thick and dark, and his gaze still as passionate, as penetrating. Dean's pink, chapped lips quirked upwards into a smile, and Cas remembered how good it had felt to kiss him again, how right it had felt, how much he had missed the feeling of Dean's lips on his own. He felt his face heat as he remembered how Dean's lips used to graze themselves down Cas' body, kissing softly at his neck and shoulders and down his torso, how Dean would nip at his hipbones—he had to think about something else, and quickly.

Luckily, Dean hadn't seemed to notice Cas acting any differently, and he simply pushed his hand further into Cas' hair as he continued to gaze at the dark haired man. Dean's gaze snapped away from Cas a moment later, and he looked across to the platform Gabriel was standing at—Gabriel grinned and waved as slower music crept out of the speakers.

"What—" Dean started.

"I know this song…" Cas said slowly, looking at his brother, who had an incredibly mischievous grin slapped across his face at that moment.

"Yeah." Dean croaked. "You do. It's the song that—that we danced to at the end of our first date—outside of your apartment block, but my car."

Cas remembered now. The music washed over him like water, and so did the memory as it floated to the surface of his mind. He remembered how enchanted he had been by Dean in that moment, how he felt like he could barely breathe at the time—it scared him to think of just how much he felt exactly the same now.

Dean was blushing furiously, looking at the ground and seeming suddenly very nervous and uncomfortable.

"I didn't plan this, Cas, I had no idea that Gabriel would—"

"You sang this to me." Cas' lips quirked upwards. "As we danced."

"Yeah." Dean nodded. His throat sounded very dry. "Do you—" His voice broke off. Cas looked up into Dean's eyes. "Would you like to…"

"Dance?" Cas asked, raising his eyebrows at Dean.

"Yeah." Dean nodded quickly. "Do you want to dance, Castiel?" He asked nervously.

"Yes." Cas nodded, almost letting himself laugh at Dean's shyness, a beam spreading quickly across his face. "I'd love to."

Dean looked a little shocked and surprised that Cas had actually said yes. His face broke out into a beam, and it made Cas laugh to see.

"Awesome." Dean grinned, his voice cracking with some kind of mixture of surprise and happiness. He gently pulled Cas closer to him, and Cas smiled and slid his hands up Dean's chest, to rest on Dean's shoulders. Dean brushed his nose against Cas' hair, and Cas couldn't stop his heart from thundering against his chest at everything that was going on in that moment.

The song continued to flow out of the speakers, and Dean swayed Cas gently to the song. Cas smiled at the familiar motion of it all, how it made his heart ache, but how the pain felt like an oddly good type of pain—one that was almost sealing the gaping hole in his chest, and made him feel a lot more certain of where it was he wanted to be in life—with Dean.

"I sang this to you as we danced." Dean chuckled as the two of them carried on swaying to the song. "You were right. I was so fucking cheesy."

"I don't know." Cas laughed. "I thought it was very romantic."

Dean smiled, his fingers brushing softly at Cas' back. "Do you think you could ever forgive me?" He asked, his eyes sad; filled with regret and longing.

"Yes." Cas nodded. "I'm sure I could. I think I'm already starting to."

Dean smiled—he pulled Cas a little closer to him, so that their bodies were touching, so that Cas' could feel Dean's racing heartbeat thud it's constant beat against his chest. "Really?" He asked. His voice was so hopeful; it filled Cas with such a strange sense of longing to hear.

"Yes." Cas nodded. "Definitely."

"Do you think there's any chance of you ever wanting to be with me again?"

Cas was silent for a moment. He looked down at the grass before glancing back up at Dean; up at the eyes filled with sorrow and remorse and longing and so much love. The eyes that he had missed so much for such a long time.

Of course he wanted to be with Dean again.

"I think I already do."

Dean took a moment to process this. He peered into Cas' eyes, looking for some kind of indication of insincerity. But Cas didn't have any. He meant it.

"Really?" Dean asked—his voice cracking with something Cas couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Yes." Cas nodded. He started to laugh at Dean's expression, and Dean broke out into a beam and started laughing, too. "I definitely do." He smiled up at Dean.

"Really?" He asked again.

"Yes." Cas beamed. "I want to be with you again, Dean." He laughed.

Dean's smile was incomparable. His laugh was muffled as he pulled Cas in to hug him, squeezing Cas as tightly as Cas would've thought humanly possible as he pressed his face into Cas' neck.

"I love you." Dean beamed into Cas' hair. "And I'm so sorry—and I promise I'll never hurt you again, Cassie."

Cas smiled as Dean pulled back, but he could only do so for a moment, because Dean's lips came crashing against him, pulling him tighter against Dean's body. Cas moaned louder this time—he didn't bother stopping himself, he didn't bother holding back. He almost couldn't, anyway. Not anymore. Dean's mouth tasted just as it always had; Dean's stubble still grazed his cheeks, Dean's hands still pressed hotly against Cas' back, burning whichever part of skin they touched.

Dean pulled away and beamed down at Cas, resting his head against Cas' forehead. Cas returned the look, studying Dean's face, attempting to memorize it once more. Dean's brown eyelashes; his wonderful scattering of freckles; even the way that Dean blinked was beautiful to Cas.

"I've missed you so much—thank you so much for giving me a second chance, Cassie, thank you so much. You'll never ever regret it, I promise."

"I'm sure I won't." Cas beamed, chuckling lightly as Dean's hands reached up to cup Cas' face, his thumbs brushing at Cas' cheeks once more.

"I'm so sorry I fucked up. I really am."

"I know—I'm sorry I did, too."

"I love you so much, Cas. I never stopped loving you. I never will."

Cas laughed again and pressed his lips against Dean's once more. Dean hummed happily, needily, against Cas.

He pulled back and pressed his face into Cas' neck, burying his nose in Cas' hair, and swaying them to the song once again. Cas inhaled Dean's scent, the one he had craved for so long, and his eyes fluttered closed. He pressed himself tighter against Dean as Dean's arms wound their way around his body once more—his heart felt like it was singing; like it was swelling several times too big for him. Cas licked his lips, wanting more, needing more.

"If the sun refused to shine," Dean sang into Cas' ear, and Cas started laughing again, his mouth aching from how widely he was smiling. His heart was aching—no longer with pain—it ached with so much joy and love for Dean, and it thrilled him—it made him incomparably elated—to know that Dean loved him—that Dean needed him, too. "I would still be loving you." Dean beamed against Cas. "Mountains crumble to the sea; There will still be you and me"

Cas sighed happily and pressed himself closer against Dean, his eyes closing again. Dean turned his head to kiss just below Cas' jaw softly, and Cas shivered, making Dean grin again.

"I mean every word of it, Cas." Dean mumbled into Cas' ear.

"I know." Cas nodded.

The two carried on rocking slowly in that way until the song ended. Cas felt calm, contented enough to be asleep, his eyes kept on clouding over—but this time, it wasn't from sadness—it wasn't from any kind of sadness—he had wanted Dean to stay with him forever, and here Dean was, promising he would. Everything was perfect once more.

"I never stopped loving you, Cas." Dean mumbled against Cas. Cas sighed happily simply at the sound of Dean's gravelly voice in his ear—he had missed it so much. "I never stopped, all through all of that stuff—and I never will."

Cas' lips quirked upwards at Dean's worlds, and he looked back up into Dean's jade eyes, the eyes he had missed so much, which were once more clouding over.

"I need you." Dean's voice was quiet, and it cracked with emotion once more. "I promise you I'll never leave you again."

"I know, Dean." Cas said gently tilting his face up slightly and kissing Dean softly on the lips.

Dean's long eyelashes fluttered against Cas' cheeks and one of them moaned into the kiss—Cas had no idea which of them it was, and if he was honest, he didn't care.

All he could think about was how good and right it felt for Dean to be with him again; how much he had missed this, how being with Dean sent curls of joy through his system and made his heart jump backflips.

The two of them pulled apart, panting slightly, Dean beaming down at Castiel, his breath rugged in the cool night air.

"Cas, can I drive you home, tonight?" Dean asked shyly, still beaming at Cas.

"I think I'd love that, Dean." Cas smiled back up at Dean, who beamed even wider and grazed his nose against the tip of Cas' resting his forehead on Cas', gazing into Cas' eyes adoringly.

Cas wanted to curl up into Dean's arms once more, to inhale his scent, which he had so sorely missed, to feel Dean's hot, gentle hands on his body, to feel Dean wrap himself around Castiel and whisper more words filled with love and adoration into Cas' ears, to breath them against his skin.

Dean's arms tightened around Cas' body—and it sent thrill through Castiel—but he wanted more, already, he wanted more of Dean. He wanted Dean to fill up every crack and fracture in his life like he had once done, he wanted to be able to come home to Dean, to wake up to Dean, who had buried a place in his heart and was certainly never going to leave it.

He didn't hurt anymore—there wasn't any pain left; only want and need and love for Dean, and the way Dean was looking down at Cas now made him feel certain that Dean felt the same way, too. Dean kissed Cas' forehead softly, smiling gently down at Cas; who felt his heart swell another ten sizes too big for his chest. The box of emotions he had kept tightly locked inside of it was now gone—it had disappeared completely, and all the feelings for Dean that Castiel had so desperately wanted to keep caged up, a secret from even himself, were now flying out of his heart freely, joyfully.

Cas had missed this.

Cas had missed Dean.

He loved, he needed Dean Winchester more than anything, more than he could explain. Dean was the air he breathed—and after so many months of feeling like he was drowning, Dean had finally pulled Castiel back up to the surface. Dean had brought Castiel back.

Castiel still loved Dean. Of course he did.

Dean Winchester had come back to him.

---

There it is! The fic, of course, is by no means over after this. But the most emotional (well, the most painful) part of the fic is over. I hope you're happy with how it went.

As always, please review!

And a huge Thank You for sticking at it! I hope you think it was worth it!