Chapter Thirteen - There Are No Words

I. Am. So. Fucking. Nervous. Dammit. Please, please, like it. And if you don't...maybe just lie and pretend you did? No, don't, but...urgh, I just want you to like it really badly. Nevermind, I'm fine.

Oh, yeah, almost forgot. I'm sorry for the alternating PoV in this one...I usually try to keep it consistent but I just couldn't make it work for me any other way. It's mostly just the beginning and the end where I switched, but...yeah. Just so you're warned. Hope it won't be too confusing and no one's too annoyed with it xD

~oOo~oOo~oOo~

Cas stands in the room like a lost puppy.

Awkward.

Dean has no clue how to begin this. He just knows it won't work like this - he a mental mess on the edge of his bed before they even started, Cas standing at the door like he's only waiting for Dean to fuck up so bad he can grab the handle and flee.

"Look, man, this is gonna take a while so maybe you wanna-"

Dean gestures to a chair, the same that he's told Cas not to sit on a few nights ago, but he can't even think about Cas sitting with him on his bed right now, he really has enough shit going on to distract him, thank you very much. To his relief, Cas follows without a word, silently crosses the room and shrugs his coat and suit jacket off and places them over the chair's back - and damn this has no right to be so hot, like why is this hot at all, come on, Dean. Oh wow, you're gonna see him in a long-sleeved shirt now- ohmygod calm down, what the hell-

"Dean." Cas is shifting uncomfortably, still on his feet. He seems lost without the usual armour of his coat. His eyes wander around restlessly before they're caught by the opposite wall. The wall that still has red marks and wet patches decorating it. Dean follows his gaze and curses himself. How the fuck could he forget that before bringing Cas here, he's so stupid, fuck-

"Dean, did you- Is this how-?"

"I-" He just breaks off. What can he say, anyway? It's all too obvious. Why the hell didn't he think of making his room presentable first? Ah yes. Because he hadn't planned for Cas to be here now, to do this now, that's why. "That's not what we're here for, Cas", he simply states evasively. "It's healed now. You fixed it. I'm good." You always have to fix what I fucked up.

Dean looks anywhere but at Cas, feigning interest in the blank white walls. The ones that aren't splashed with the undeniable display of his shame, that is.

It's one of those moments Dean is reminded that Cas is an angel. All that power that resides under the silent cover of his vessel. He's like lightning in a bottle. Sparkling and electric and enticing. Beautiful. Dangerous. Cas had been created millennia ago, had been on earth for over ten years, but he could still be so awkward (and adorable) at times that Dean forgets that he's that old supernatural being.

And here they are with Dean -cool, tough, confident 'best hunter there ever was' Dean- palms sweating as he tries to talk about feeling that scare the hell out of him. And Cas, the social awkwardness made flesh, all calm and collected.

"Just-" Dammit, he really needs to get his stupid shit together. "Will you just sit down? Please?"

Cas forces his eyes away from the shards of glass on the floor and fixes them on Dean instead, stares at him for a moment, intense and motionless. Dean swallows as he watches Cas pressing his lips together as if biting back words Dean isn't sure he would have wanted to hear, but then he blinks and slowly sits down, never breaking eye contact.

Silence. Awkward. Dean supposes it's better if Cas isn't the first to start talking, though.

This is it, then. The moment. And he's got nothing.

"Fuck", he says, drives a hand over his face, "this went so much smoother in my head...dammit."

And Cas...Cas is aware he isn't making it exactly easy for Dean, but he has said everything there is to say. It's at Dean to make the next move.

Which he does. He takes a deep breath, settles himself, orders his thoughts as best as he can.

"Okay, look. Cas, buddy..."

Look, Cas, buddy...you can't stay, it echoes in Cas' head. He's heard that speech before. He knew this was probably what's gonna come.

Hey, Cas. Look, buddy...you're my best friend. You're family, yeah? You're like a brother, but that's...that's all. Thanks for trying to save me, but...yeah. That's just not...gay stuff, you know. Not really my scene, pal. So...glad we talked about that. I'm sure you understand.

He can just picture the pitiful smile.

Look, Cas, buddy...you can't stay. Just like the last time Dean sent him away.

"Dean-", he attempts, but is broken off before he even gets as much as two words out.

"Nonono!" Dean shakes his head. "Don't you give me that kicked puppy face, dude, not now!"

Cas opens his mouth, takes a breath in, holds it for a second. But then he just lets it flow out of his lungs again, lowering his eyes to his feet. This is not his speech to make. If this is what Dean wants, then...

"What were you thinking, man?" It's the first thing that comes to Dean's mind, so he just goes for it. Focusing on Cas is a lot easier than having to address his own feelings. He watches Cas' eyes slowly wander back up to meet his, the typical confused wrinkle on his brow.

"I don't understand. What-"

"You stupid son of a bitch!" Dean doesn't know if to laugh, cry, or yell. "What were you thinking!?"

He knows it's not fair, getting angry with Cas, poor guy was just doing what Dean pretended he wanted him to. But he doesn't have another outlet for these feelings right now. Cas stares at him, dumbfounded in the face of Dean's unexpected outburst.

"I-..."

"Cas." Dean presses his lips together, feels how something swells up in him, something he's been nourishing and growing for weeks, finally threatening to break out. And he lets it. He just lets it. "You fucking idiot", he says, shaking his head in frustrated disbelief, "you're family. You're my friend, Cas, my best friend, but- that's- You're more and I can't-" He trails off, sighs. "This bond between us, that's more than a connection of an angel saving a soul. It was you saving me. You've been saving me over and over again, in more ways than one. And the thought that you almost saved me again, but at what price, I-" He drives a hand through his hair, prepares his tongue for what he knows is coming next, forces it not to stumble over the words. "If it meant I'd lose you, I wouldn't have wanted to be saved", he says, calmly, truthfully. "What good would it have done to be left in a world where you're gone? If I'd been left here, knowing that you're gone because of me-"

He breaks off, takes a deep, shaky breath. His mind tries to show him pictures of times he lost people, times he lost Cas, but he swallows them down. He can't have that now. He knows anyway. It's mortifying to be the one who's left behind. It's mortifying to be the one who remembers.

"For you", Cas' soft, cautious voice rips him back to the angel sitting in front of him, "not because of you."

Dean snorts.

"Comes down to the same damn thing", he says, and Cas flinches. He can't find it in himself to care. "You would've been dead, Cas. And I can't stand- I..." I love you. Of course I love you. Don't you see that? Don't you know? I love you so much it fucking terrifies me.

"So what the hell were you thinking, man? How could you do that?" Dean hates how weak and shaky his voice has suddenly become. He can't do anything about it. "How could you have left me here with all that...that stuff you said and just die on me, you bastard. How could you?" Don't you know? "Don't you know how...cruel and... insanely stupid that was?"

"I..." Cas looks impossibly small, eyes decidedly settled on the floor, and the guilt on his face reminds Dean painfully of just how fucking much he loves that stupid angel, no matter what shit he's done. "I never intended to be cruel..."

"I know that!" Dean grabs the edge of the bed to ground himself, keep him from reaching out. "Hell, of course I know that!" He's yelling. He's yelling at Cas and- shit.
"Fuck, I just-" He desperately grasps for words that keep slipping through his fingers. "Urght, dammit!"

His white-knuckled grip loosens to bury his face in his hands instead. It's too much. He's feeling to much stuff at the same time. Anger, frustration, with himself, with Cas. Longing, hope, want, need. He needs to get this right, he needs Cas to understand, he needs Cas to... He needs Cas. Fuck, fuck, fuck! It's going all wrong and he doesn't know how to- he doesn't-...

The wave of helplessness washes over him suddenly, mingles with everything else boiling inside of him to one overwhelming mess that makes his breath catch in his throat and drives tears to his eyes. Awesome. He's so not gonna cry now, in front of Cas and in the middle of their stupid, failing conversation and-

A sob wants to force its way out of his throat and he swallows it with a choking sound.

"Dean." There's the hint of a question in Cas' hesitant voice, and no, he absolutely fucking will not let Cas see the state he's in. He hears the rustling of fabric as Cas moves on his chair, moves towards him, and Dean holds out a hand so quickly Cas doesn't even get to stand up.

"No, don't." Dean waves him to stay put, uses his other hand to rub his eyes and hopefully cover up any revealing dampness. "It's fine. I'm fine." He lets both hands fall down to his lap, stares at them, can't look at Cas. "I'm fine", he hears himself say again, a whisper, a lie that he's told so many times he almost started to believe it himself. "I...I'm-" His voice cracks, and the next thing he knows is Cas moves again, practically flies out of the chair and to his side before he even has time to process it.

"Dean." Arms wrap him up in a hug, and he resists at first, doesn't want to be like this, this weak and pathetic mess Cas has to hold together. But it's warm here, safe, and he feels his resolve to withstand melt away, his treacherous body going soft and pliant against the angel's chest.

"I'm sorry." The words escape him in stutters, bordering on sobs, but not quite, not quite, he could sob from the way Cas' arms tighten around him, but he won't. "I get mad", he says, eyes closed. "I told you. You know I get mad. All that anger, I- I don't know why I get so angry all the time. Cas..."

"Shush." He feels Cas' chin settle on his head. "It's okay. It's okay. I know."

Dean wants to believe him, but he knows it's not okay. It's everything but okay.

"You didn't send me away", Cas' soft voice reaches his ear, and he almost thinks to hear a smile in it. Only, why should Cas be smiling? Dean has given him no reason to. "I read that as a good sign", the angel goes on, unaware of the war Dean is fighting in his head. "I never expected anything from you. And I can be content like this. With you just...knowing. That you'd know and... it's more than I ever thought I could have."

It's enough to rip Dean out of his haze, make him disentangle himself from those arms still holding onto him. When he looks at Cas, his blue eyes are warm and grateful, of all things, and Dean doesn't get a single fucking word he just said.

"Allow you to- " He blinks, tries to understand what refuses to make sense, however he twists and turns it. "Cas. This is not about- You don't need my fucking permission to- Geez."

You didn't send me away. Is this what Cas thought of him? Is this what he thought Dean would do? Son of a bitch, he fucked up even more than he thought.

"You were always there", Dean says incredulously, desperately, because Cas still doesn't know. "Even if I wanted you gone...you- No, if I had to tell you to go", he corrects himself, "because I never actually wanted you to. Not ever. I could never want you gone, Cas."

He looks back into those beautiful blue eyes that have gone wide at Dean's words, and fucking hell, they're impossible. An angel, once believed to be completely incapable of human emotion, and a human, too much of a coward to admit to feelings that should have come so naturally to him.

But I won't let you leave me again, he thinks, wants to say. I can't.

"So you don't get to pull that shit", is what tumbles from his mouth. "You don't get to do a damn deathbed confession, not again. I thought we were through that, been there, done that, big selfless sacrifice crap and-"

"It wasn't altruistic", Cas breaks him off, still calm but firm. "In fact, my reasons were entirely selfish. You deserved to be saved. The only thing I ever wanted is for you to be happy, Dean, to live the life you deserve."

"Deserve." Dean shakes his head. He's heard that word before. He's not one to apply it to himself. "Fuck, Cas, I- Not gonna go down that road, but...whatever life you'd want for me..." He pauses, keeps his eyes fixed on Cas'. He can do this. "What...what I want... sure as hell ain't a life without you in it."

Cas bites his lip, Dean watches something flicker over his face, as if he can't decide what emotion to settle on.

"I'm sorry", he finally says, breaking their gaze by looking at his hands in his lap. "I never wanted you to have to deal with this, Dean. I thought I was going to die", he says, voice wavering as his eyes snap up to the hunter's again. "I was sure I was about to die, Dean. I never planned for you to have to deal with this...after. Because I thought there would be no after. I'm sorry."

"Not having to deal with this", Dean repeats to himself, huffs. "Bullshit, man. I haven't been able to think about a damn thing ever since that day. It's haunting me in my sleep, Cas."

Cas nods as if he knows. He doesn't know shit. He has no fucking idea.

"I'm so sorry", it leaves Cas' lips again, and Dean just wishes he would stop saying that. "I know it wasn't- I- I never meant to do this to you." He sounds sad, tired in a way that goes far beyond physical exhaustion. (Not that he feels that, anyway.) Cas sighs. "Forgive me. I..." He shifts on the bed, gives Dean a hardly convincing smile, "I should go. Give you some peace."

What? No. Nonono. He watches helplessly how Cas gets up. He can't leave now. Dean can't-

"There is no peace, don't you get that?", he blurts out before Cas even made one step. "Not until I know."

"Know what, Dean?" He hasn't turned, just stands there, close enough to touch, too far away to reach for.

"Sonofa-" Dean gets up too, needs to be on eye-level for this, needs to...he doesn't really know what he needs. He drives a hand over his face. He needs to get this over with, that's what he damn well needs. "Did you mean it?", he simply asks, swallows around the lump in his throat when Cas slowly turns back around to him. "Cas? Did you- Did you mean it? When you said you..."

The seconds that pass until Cas opens his mouth feel like hours.

"Dean." The angel's head is tilted, eyes squinted in wonder. "Of course I meant it. The Empty wouldn't have been summoned if I didn't." It sounds so easy, Cas saying it like that, as if it makes so much sense, as if it didn't just knock the air out of Dean's lungs. "I wish I could take that burden from your shoulders and say that I didn't", Cas goes on before Dean has found his voice, "but I can't. I can't pretend anymore, not now that it's finally out there. I'm just so- I'm so tired, Dean." Cas smiles, lips pressed together, and Dean can see it again, the exhaustion from before, the exhaustion Dean knows himself. "I'm tired of pretending I don't feel the way I do. So, I'll leave that knowledge to your disposal, to do with it what you wish, but...yes, I meant it. Every word. I still do."

"C-Cas-"

A burden on my shoulders. The one thing I want, it's something I know I can't have. Oh, Cas...

"It's fine." Cas smiles again, that knowing smile Dean hates by now. "I promise. I understand."

He turns again, is about to take a step, hasn't even grabbed his coat from the chair-

And Dean is just so fucking sick of watching Cas walk away from him.

"Cas, wait!" He grabs his wrist, makes Cas turn back to him. His blue eyes flit down to his arm, staring at the point of contact, then shoot up to Dean's face. His brow is furrowed, mouth slightly open, and Dean has seriously no idea how he makes his vocal cords work.

"You-" He licks his lips, swallows visibly. "You can have it, Cas."

There it is. He stares at Cas' face, pleads with every fibre in his body that he'll understand, get the full meaning behind his words. The angel looks puzzled for a moment, but then his eyes go wide, his brow relaxes and he takes in a breath.

"Dean..."

Yes. Yes, Cas, please...

"If this is really...what you want", he croaks out, "if I am-"

And suddenly he's pressed against the wall, strong hands holding onto his arms, firm yet gentle, holding him together rather than keeping him captive.

Every nerve ending in Cas' body is telling him to lean forward, close the gap and just take, but he won't. He has millennia of practice in restraint, and approximately eleven years of practice in quite extraordinary restraint. He'd never push Dean. Not in anything, and certainly not in this. Not even now, after what he just said. He'd wait. He'd always waited. I'll just wait here, then.

If they were to take that step, that leap - it would have to be the hunter's choice, his to make and his to set the pace. If he couldn't...Cas would keep waiting. (To him, honest love is less about how much you would do for someone, and more about how long you would wait, unable to do anything at all. If that's what it takes, Cas knows he would wait forever.)

"You can have it", Dean repeats, voice barely a whisper, a gentle breath on Cas' face. "Just tell me that it's what you want and it's yours. Please-"

Cas can practically watch the storm raging behind those green eyes as they stare at each other, inches apart - when did they get so close anyway? He can't remember.

Dean can't, either. Rationally he knows someone must have moved, brought them to this point, this teeter that's just waiting to tip over to one side or the other. It's just that rational thinking has never been his strong suit, and Cas' lips right in front of his eyes don't exactly increase his brain cells' will to work. I fact, they seem to be quitting their job one after another the longer Dean stands and looks. Awesome.

He tries to focus on the angel's eyes just so as not to stare at his mouth, but it's far too easy to get lost in the blue, far too easy to read things in their depths that are as hauntingly beautiful as they are dangerous.

Don't be scared, they seemed to say. I won't scar your heart further. Just take my hand. Trust me.

"Dean." Cas' voice is raw and breathless, and Dean sucks in a gulp of air when the angel leans their foreheads together. He closes his eyes, can't help it.

"You have me", he whispers. "Cas, I-" I think I want to be in love with you, but I just don't know how. He can feel Cas' breath on his face, the burn of his own that comes in shallow pants, both mingling in the space between them.

"Cas...", he breathes out again, like a prayer, the only word that's still clear in his mind. "Please."

He's begging for something, something he doesn't know how else to express. That's what they do. They have twelve years behind them, twelve years of silent begging. Tell me, show me without making me ask. And Cas understands. He seems to know what Dean's asking for before Dean even knows it himself.

As soon as Cas' lips softly brush against his, he knows that this is it. This is what he's asked for, this is what he's been asking for all his life. It's gentle and tentative and questioning, it's cautious and hopeful and perfect. He grabs for the familiar lapels of a trenchcoat, remembers that it's still hanging over the chair, over his chair, and claws his fingers into the thin fabric of Cas' shirt instead. He doesn't pull, he doesn't push either (oh, damn him, he's never gonna push again), he just holds onto it, grateful for the steadying support, the wall in his back. He whimpers at the first firmer press of chapped lips against his, a sound unlike any he's ever heard escaping his own throat.

No shits are given in the slightest.