Dean felt a warm hand on his back as he pulled himself back to consciousness.
It had been a late night at the bar and then his mind refused to shut down for sleep, still reeling over the fact that Charlie had seen Cas just a few days ago. She had spared him the details of her date with the man who had left him four years ago, except to say that he was coming home to help his sister deal with their mother's medical problems.
It was something that surprised him, that Cas would come back to be with his mother in her last moments, but realized it probably was for Anna, and not for himself. Of course, he didn't really know Cas anymore, it was possible the writer wanted some closure with his estranged mother, but Dean doubted it. Castiel's view on his relationship with his mother never seemed like something he wanted to fix, it was always just a part of him.
Dean saw the torturous looks in his eyes on occasion, whenever someone would mention their mother in a positive way and Cas was unprepared for it. Most of the time he was able to show little to know emotion when something like that came up, but there were times when Dean could see all the damage Naomi did to her youngest son in the way Cas' eyelids fell heavy, or the crystal blue of his irises dulled. It was probably imperceptible to most people, if not all, but for Dean- it effected him not just on an emotional level, but a physical one as well. He had found himself unconsciously reaching out to Cas, laying a hand on his shoulder or brushing his fingers along his forearm. Small gestures that his body gave to comfort Castiel, even when it wasn't apparent Cas needed comforting. It was an instinct, his body just moved to him and became what Castiel needed most in the moment. It wasn't always a touch, sometimes it was a joke or a quick change of the subject, but Dean had found it effortless to sense what was needed of him in those moments.
And now, Cas was coming home to be with his mother as she died. Dean couldn't imagine having to stand at the bedside of the person responsible for so much pain and mourn their death. He didn't think he had that kind of generosity in him, and wondered how Cas was handling it. He considered calling him, now that thanks to Charlie he had his number, but couldn't bring himself to take that step. If Cas wanted to see him, to hear from him, he knew how to get in contact with him. He obviously didn't want that, so Dean did his best to shake thoughts of contacting Cas away.
He wasn't very successful though, pulling out his phone and staring down at the screen over and over the last couple days. He knew Cas was in town now, Charlie had had texted him when they arrived and Dean felt like his skin was on fire all of the time now. He wondered if Cas would just show up at the Bunker, or at his apartment. It was like he was waiting for the moment to happen and his body couldn't rest for fear of missing it.
And now he was in his bed, staring at the glowing red numbers of his clock radio telling him it was four in the morning and there was someone in his bed.
It wasn't unusual for Bella to sneak in at times and have her way with him whenever she felt like it, but there was something about the weight of the hand on his back, rubbing circles in the planes of his shoulders, that told him it was not Bella's hand. He felt like the room was suddenly hazy, like he was seeing the shadows of his room through a cloud of smoke and mirrors.
He knew he should turn around and confirm what his senses were already telling him, but Dean couldn't find the strength to do so. The room went dark again for a few moments, and it wasn't until the soft glow of the street lamps outside filled his vision again, did he realize he had closed his eyes.
The hand stopped moving and his back was suddenly cold, and Dean was immediately terrified that the bed would be empty when he turned over. The thought must have propelled him because he was instantly locking eyes with the most beautiful pair of blue eyes he knew to be in existence.
Castiel had both hands under his cheek, as he laid next to Dean, his body facing his. The corners of his mouth turned up into a soft smile, and Dean couldn't feel anything. He knew he should feel a multitude of emotions, but he couldn't process anything past the fact that he was looking at Cas. The sleep that still pulled at him made Cas' face seem out of focus, and Dean squinted, doing his best to see the man laying next to him better. There were a few lines around his eyes, nothing quite like the wear Dean's own face showed, but there nonetheless. He had neglected to shave, probably for the last couple days, and Dean tried to lift his hand to feel the stubble against his own skin, but couldn't lift his hand.
He knew he should panic, that it wasn't normal that he couldn't lift his hand, but his thoughts were blurred by the image of the man's smile growing wider, his eyes brightening the room as his lips grew further apart. The smile was the same one Cas wore in the photo Charlie had taken, and Dean was sure he had never seen anything so radiate in his life. He wanted to cover his eyes, Cas' smile too close and too bright to be comfortable anymore.
"Cas?" Dean heard himself say, but not feeling his mouth move.
"It's alright Dean." Cas' smile didn't waver as the words escaped his throat. "I'm okay now. Everything is okay now."
"I tried Cas- I tried to find you." His lover's face was blurred further by the tears that filled Dean's eyes.
"You can let go now Dean." Castiel's hand lifted once more, this time resting on Dean's cheek and caressing softly. "You can let me go now."
"No, Cas...I don't- I cant-" Dean was crying, but his sobs were somewhere distant. "Please don't leave me."
"Shh." Castiel moved forward and pressed his lips to the wetness of Dean's cheeks but Dean couldn't feel the soft chapped lips he knew should be there. "I'm better now. You have to let me go Dean."
"Cas please-" Dean pleaded. "I'm so sorry, please Cas, please!" His hands began to grapple for some part of Castiel to grab onto but they kept falling through the man's body.
Castiel seemed to drift above him then, his body hovering over and his eyes latching on and not letting go. "It's for the best Dean." His smile grew wider still and Dean was suddenly terrified of the gummy grin staring down at him. "It's time to let go." Castiel's body began to dissipate and Dean was left grasping at the air above him, the whisper of Cas' voice still in his ears. "Time to let go Dean."
"No! Cas! Please come back! Please!" Dean could hear shouting in the distance, could see his vision fading to black as his body transitioned out of his dream and into the hard reality of his cold and empty bed.
Dean thrashed as he awoke, the cold sweat on his forehead mixing with the salty tears he had shed. His pillow and sheets were damp beneath him, but Dean couldn't find the strength to pull himself out of his bed. His mind flashed images of Cas laying next to him, smiling back at him and he clenched his fists into the sheets. There was a loud growling whine that was coming from his throat, but Dean did nothing to quiet himself.
The dream played on the thing he had been torturing himself over for the last few days.
Castiel was happy.
He had found peace and was living a good life.
Some people may think it strange that Dean knew from one picture that Castiel was definitely living a happy life, but Dean was sure. He could see it in the lightness of his shoulders, the bright blue of his eyes, the well worn laugh lines along his mouth- all of it showed Dean the extent of Castiel's bliss.
He knew he was supposed to be happy about it, that Cas was happy and had overcome everything that landed him in that hospital four years ago, but there was a more prominent feeling that tortured Dean.
Jealousy.
He hated that he felt that way, that he wanted to be the one to make Cas happy, but he couldn't stop. Of course, he didn't want Cas to be unhappy, but secretly hoped his life was somewhat similar to his own. Not a sad existence, by any means, but still heavy with the weight of everything he had lost. Dean had found his own happiness these last few years, and could honestly say he enjoyed his life, but there was that part of him that still belonged to Cas that refused to move on. It still clung to him fiercely and Dean had just about accepted that it would always be there.
He had read old romance novels about couples not being together but being in love forever and thought it never made any sense because with time and perspective, anyone could fall out love, especially with the help of someone new. That theory was quickly crumbling around him though as he lived his life in peace, but still knew his heart belonged to Cas. It had just become a part of him, like his smart mouth or the bow of his legs, loving Cas made him who he was. He did worry that it meant he was ruined for anyone else, that he would never find a partner to share his life with because he would never want anyone the way he wants Cas, but Dean pushed thoughts like that away, having no intention of pursuing a relationship anytime soon.
Dean winced as thoughts of Castiel and his romantic entanglements assaulted his mind.
Had he found someone else? Is that why he was so happy?
The thought of Cas being with someone else made him physically sick and Dean curled up onto his side as he tried to push the thoughts away. Thinking about Cas always led to entire nights without sleep, or possibly more alcohol than he usually allowed himself and Dean didn't want to slide back into bad habits.
Dean forced himself to turn back over to check the time.
It was nearly six and Dean couldn't remember the last time he got up this early but knew he wasn't going back to bed with his mind working the way it was.
He didn't have much to do today, his scheduled guitar lesson wouldn't start until nine and then he was free until his gig at The Vine tonight.
Benny had left the band the year before, having gotten married and adopting an adorable baby girl Dean had nicknamed "Sassmonster." He had found another drummer after only a few auditions, and the band's name was changed to Mary's Smile. Dean thought maybe it was stupid the first time he thought of it, but everyone seemed to love it and Dean didn't think it was necessary to explain who Mary was. His mother's smile was one of the last things he remembered of her, before finally blurring from his memories and living only in pictures.
Dean pulled himself up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. His head fell into his hands as he leaned forward slightly, letting his feet absorb the cold carpeted floor and the sweat on his back trickle down his spine. When he finally stretched himself into standing, Dean turned back to look down at his bed for a moment, imagining Cas laying there once more before shaking his head and heading for the shower.
/
Dean arrived with the rest of the band at the bar about an hour before they were supposed to go on. The bar was already pretty packed, the opening band drawing people in as it played popular nineties covers.
He sat on an amp behind the black curtain on the stage and drank slowly from his bottle of water. Dean didn't like to look at the crowd before heading out on stage, he found it made him more nervous and dried his throat out. He could hear people singing along to the music though and the sound was so loud he knew there were a lot of people out there.
He had gotten more comfortable on stage over the last few years, and his band had gained a good following of people who would show up to their gigs regularly. It wasn't really something he was thinking about going further with, not being the type to indulge in the lure of celebrity. He did enjoy being on stage though, and loved singing his heart out to a crowd of people soaking up every note with a smile on their face. It gave him quite the high, and Dean had been chasing that high a few times a month for the last three years.
The opening band began their thanks, and Dean felt his heart beat speed up as he prepared to set up. The crowd cheered loudly as the nineties cover band made their exit and appeared behind the curtain, smiles on their faces.
"Nice job guys, that was awesome." Dean smiled widely as he offered a hand to the singer who approached him.
"Thanks man. Its a good crowd, you'll have a good time with em'." The young man said, tossing his long locks to the side in a way that made Dean think of Sam and his heart stung for a moment.
"Alright then, you guys staying?" Dean watched as his band mates brought their equipment on stage and tried his best to continue the polite small talk bands usually engaged in between sets.
"Yeah man, you guys are freaking awesome!" The kid beamed at him and Dean figured he couldn't be more than nineteen. "You guys doing covers or will you play any of your own stuff tonight?"
"We got a little of both actually. Probably space it out a bit." Dean answered with a nervous smile.
"Oh man, originals can be a bitch at a place like this." He gave him a pat on the back as Dean approached the curtain. "I'm sure you guys will do great though."
Dean huffed out a breath and tossed a smile over his shoulder. "Lets fucking hope so buddy." He heard the boy laugh behind him as he pushed his way through the curtain and plastered on his stage worthy smile. His hand was up and waving and he could feel himself letting go of everything that had weighed him down that day.
His dream had stayed with him all day, but Dean slipped into his stage persona easily as the lights blinded and the crowd welcomed him. When he made it the the microphone waiting for him at the center of the stage, Dean hit it with his hand a couple times, checking that it was on before smiling widely and whooping to the crowd.
"How you guys doin' tonight?"
The crowd cheered and Dean raised his hands in a appreciative gesture.
"We're so glad to be here tonight guys, thanks for coming out to see us!" Dean checked behind him to check that everyone was ready to play. "We're- uh- gunna play some music for you now. So -uh- shut up and like it."
He turned towards the laughing crowd and looked down at the first row of people staring up at him. They were mostly college girls, throwing him seductive smiles and moving their bodies to music that hadn't started playing yet. He smiled at them anyway, letting it grow wider as the first notes began to ring in his ears.
They had developed what Dean thought was a well placed set. They always started with something everyone knew, something that rocked but was easy to sing along to. Tonight they were starting with Journey's bar classic, Don't Stop Believing, and Dean's mouth began to twitch as the words formed in his mind before crooning from his lips.
The crowd ate it up, everyone joining in and holding their drink in their hands as they belted out the well-known chorus. Dean came alive as the crowd grew more enthusiastic, his body swayed as he sang, his head slinging back as he pushed the notes from his diaphragm.
They usually snuck in an original song around the third song, the crowd too pumped up to care that they didn't know the words. Their tactic usually worked, and tonight was no different, the eyes in the audience looking impressed and entertained as Dean worked his way through a rock ballad he and Benny had written together a few years ago. By the time the song was over, Dean was feeling higher than he ever had before on stage, the energy of the room lighting him on fire.
Sometimes, Dean will make a call to substitute a planned original song for another cover, depending on the crowd and how receptive they are but he was feeling encouraged by their response to their music and thought about trying out an acoustic song he had written last year and hadn't played before. Towards the end of their set he decided that they should go for it, knowing at least the girls up front would be eating out of the palm of his hand as he sang it. It was a love song after all, a song he wrote for Cas.
It had taken Dean a long time to agree to sing this song on stage, it being so personal, but something about the night felt right and he was ready to debut it. Dean had been proud that he was able to put his feelings about Castiel into words, seeing as how he was so emotionally stunted, but actually sharing it with other people was still something he struggled with. He knew no one in the crowd would know what he was singing about, or who, but it still made him feel raw whenever he sang it, like he was being stripped away of all his defenses and his heart left open for the world to see.
"Alright guys." Dean breathed heavily into the microphone as he came down from the last song. "You know how we like to slow it down at least once a night so-uh- tonight-" he pulled his guitar into his lap and sat on the stool the bassist pulled out for him. "I'm gunna go ahead and break your heart with a little something i wrote awhile back, hope you don't mind."
His shy smile was met with cheers from the crowd, and some sweet words he couldn't hear from his fan club up front. Dean smiled down at them as he strummed on his guitar once, stopping to tune the strings before strumming again and smiling out at the crowd. He let his eyes sweep across the room, lingering around the people standing against the bar and moving down the center of the group before coming back to his own hands which where strumming gently.
He closed his eyes and let some of the emotion behind the song in, knowing it would be impossible to sing it well without doing so. When his lips parted to sing, he felt something strong pulling his eyes back out into the crowd.
I drink good coffee every morning
Comes from a place that's far away
And when I'm done I feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say
The words were silk on his tongue, and he loved the way they enraptured the people he locked eyes with. His gaze though, felt drawn, like it was being pulled somewhere in particular and he found himself roaming from person to person, looking for the source. His skin felt hot and open and he knew there was something more about the moment than just the high he got from singing on stage. He couldn't find it though, couldn't find whatever it was that made him feel like he was going to float off of his chair and plummet into the earth simultaneously.
Don't want you thinking I'm unhappy
What is closer to the truth
If I lived till I was a hundred and two
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
The draw flickered then, like an electric shock that stuttered for a second before intensifying and lighting the room on fire. His heart was beating hard, pushing blood through his veins in a familiar rhythm that had been lost to him for so long.
Dean searched through the crowd again, his body knowing exactly what it was looking for while his mind tried its best to catch up. He was so overwhelmed by the tremendous pull he almost forgot to keep singing, but then his eyes finally landed on the source of all the energy swirling around him and his mouth fell open, lyrics tumbling out easily.
No longer moved to drink strong whiskey
I shook the hand of time and I knew
That if I lived till I could no longer climb my stairs
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
The thought that it was just a mirage, that the dream from this morning had somehow manifested in the crowd, didn't even cross his mind as Dean stared openly into the wide depths of Castiel Novak's eyes. The raw magnetism that had pushed and pulled him to meet Cas' gaze had settled into a calming tide that ebbed and flowed naturally around them. Dean couldn't see anyone else anymore, his vision blacking out everything that wasn't Cas.
A face that dances and it haunts me
With laughter still ringin' in my ears
I still find pieces of your presence here
even, even after all these years
Dean's eyes traveled down the contours of Castiel's face and let himself linger on the soft lips that seemed to tremble in the shadows of the bars low lighting. He looked beautiful despite the dismay his face wore. The lines above his forehead that Dean had always wanted to kiss away were on full display, his lips turned down slightly in a way that made Dean's heart stutter.
He knew he should probably feel embarrassed that the man he wrote the song for was standing there watching him, but the only thing Dean could think to feel was grateful. He was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude for the opportunity to sing to Cas again, to sing a song that had so much of himself in it, a song that laid his soul bare. His lips curled up at their edges as he sang straight to Cas, hoping the words found their rightful place in his heart.
I don't want you thinkin' that I don't get asked to dinner
Cuz I'm here to say that I sometimes do
And even though I may seem to feel a touch of love
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
Dean closed his eyes then, tears springing forth and his heart beating the way it had only ever done for Cas. He wanted so desperately to put every ounce of emotion in this, in this one moment where he got to be raw and bare for Cas and tell him exactly how he feels. Dean looked back up at him then, ignoring the tears that fell and blocking out everything that wasn't a pair of crystal blue eyes staring back him. When they made their way home again, Dean's eyes found Cas tilting his head slightly, a beautifully confused look painting his face, and Dean nearly laughed at the sight.
As he sung out the last chords of the song though, Dean kept his lips as steady as possible, knowing how close they were to trembling. He kept his voice as even as he could but he heard himself shake as his lips closed around the last words of the song.
If I lived till I was a hundred and two
I just don't think I'll ever get over you
