Dean was having the worst freaking month, year ever. And if could all be traced to that damn article he didn't even write. Well, not entirely at least.
It started with his own guilt over it, seeing how much his stupid actions affected Cas. All because he was too lazy to think things through. Because he is a god-damn idiot! A worthless composition of molecules fused together wrong or whatever the molecules do.
Seeing Cas' building all burnt down nearly gave him a heart-attack. Certainly made his eyes tear, and his lungs close up on him. The worst was the smell. The strongest thing to bring back all those forgotten memories of how his mother perished. And just the thought that Cas was there...
But Cas was alright. He was at the shelter when Dean reached it, safe and sleeping there like it was no big deal. Like it didn't matter that he didn't have a bed of his own to sleep in. Like it didn't matter that he didn't have a roof over his head. Like none of it was of any importance. It made Dean's heart clench harder, made his chest ache, because this kind, sweet man didn't... He didn't deserve it.
That was why he offered to take him in. Cas could never understand, but Dean needed to know he was safe, he needed it like a dying plant needed water and sun. Because sure, Dean had friends, he had his brother who was across the country now and didn't need him anymore, so Dean's instinct, his need to take care of someone wasn't fulfilled. He might not have known that was it, he might not have realized his own internal psychological issues, but he knew he had to do something regarding Cas. He just didn't know what.
It helped, bringing him in the loop when it came to the Balth and the 'reunion article' as he came to call it. It was a secret they shared, whispering in the kitchen or in the supply room, Dean telling Cas who he found and where. Being with him, there at the shelter, it helped sooth his protective side, but only for a little while. Dean could see who much this kind of life was affecting Cas, sending him into a spiraling depression he didn't even realize he was falling into, and Dean didn't like it, he didn't like it one bit.
But aside from kidnaping the guy, he didn't know what else he could do.
The solution came one dreary, rainy morning. Dean's heart literally stopped when that car nearly hit Cas, and seeing him go down afterwards was yet another stab to the chest. No matter the pouring rain, Dean ran out of the shelter to him, only to find Cas lying unconscious in a puddle, his leg deep into a drain, the bars broken and the metal digging into his leg. It tore his skin open, making a nasty wound, but Dean was more worried about the blood on Cas's head. The rain was dirty and his hair a bit longer, making it impossible to see the head wound, and Dean took his chances, picked him up and carrier him inside.
He thanked his lucky stars Ezekiel was there, helping out at the shelter, and that he could tell Dean how serious it was, even if he was a heart surgeon and not a brain doctor. The gash on Cas' head wasn't so bad once Zeke cleaned it, and without an MRI, all he could tell Dean was that they needed to look out for the signs of a possible concussion, and that the leg wound needed stitches, that he could do it.
He confirmed Dean's suspicions that there was a possibility that the hospital wouldn't admit him, or if they did, he would have one hell of a medical bill hanging over his head. He said Cas should be fine once he took a couple of days to rest up, but when Dean told him about his housing arrangement, Zeke grew concerned, saying he needed a more comfortable, dry and better heated environment, along with someone to watch over him for the next few days.
Naturally, Dean volunteered.
"Morning, sunshine." Dean said as he entered the spare room, worried about Cas, who slept all through the night, and fearful of how the man might react. Cas clearly jumped, then winced and looked down on his bandaged leg with a deep frown. His wide, big eyes then looked back up at Dean, so beautiful and scared and confused and Dean almost died from the intensity of it. He lifted his hands up in surrender, a universal sign that he meant no harm, and didn't dare come closer, not yet. Not until he explained. "It's alright. I know this must be... You... You remember what happened?"
Still looking at Dean as if he could read his own memories on Dean's face, Cas took a moment, probably to try and remember. A frown slowly crept on his face and his eyes slipped down on his leg. His eyes grew wide for a split second, before he grabbed the blanket and covered himself. After another second, he finally looked back up at Dean, cheeks burning red. "I... I feel?"
"Yeah. Two cars nearly hit you, one sprayed you with water, you stumbled back, your leg got stuck in a broken drain grid and you fell over, hit your head." Dean spoke, standing perfectly still, hands lowered, but still in Cas' line of sight. It felt strange to approach him as if he was a wounded wild animal, but Dean really didn't want to spook him. "Zeke... Ezekiel, he was at the shelter, he stitched up your leg and checked your head... He said... He thinks you'll be fine, but that someone should... That we should... Um..."
"Monitor me?" Cas offered, and thank fuck he did, because Dean didn't want to say it, not like that. He didn't want to make Cas feel like he was a child that needed to be looked after, like he was incompetent or something.
"Yeah... Just to make sure you don't have a concussion or anything. He also said you should take it easy on the leg, the gash is pretty deep... So yeah..." Dean said feeling awkward as fuck.
"And you... You brought me... Here? To your home..." Cas asked, so many more questions contained in that one. He was soaking wet and covered in muddy water when he went down, and now... He was mostly clean and in dry shirt, and... Yeah... Best rip that band-aid right off, right?
"Yeah. Ezekiel ripped your pants went he checked your leg, so those are gone. The shirt, hoodie and jacket were soaking, so I put them in the washer. I took your bag too, it's in the hall. I didn't want to go through it, so I... I gave you one of my shirts and... I was thinking after you woke up, you could take a shower and I would change the sheets so that you could rest more. I got breakfast ready if you want to eat." Dean pushed the words out, forcing himself to maintain eye contact with Cas, to follow his reactions and hope, hope so damn much Cas wouldn't tell him to go to hell, or scream his head off and run away or... Whatever other scenario Dean wouldn't allow his head to make. Fortunately, Cas' stomach growled at that exact moment, making Cas go wide eye and look away while his cheek blushed all over again.
"I got bacon and eggs and waffles..." Dean dared a small hopeful smile and he could see Cas swallow hard, not daring to look up, then give the tiniest nod Dean had ever seen. Dean couldn't stop the wide smile that spread upon his face as he replied that he would be right back, then scrambled out of the room.
Truth was, this turned out to be really awkward, because Dean hadn't really thought about what he was doing when he undressed the man. He was working on getting him dry and into a warm bed so he wouldn't catch a pneumonia or flu or whatever, he was caring for him, he wasn't being a creep.
But Cas seemed to get that, he seemed to understand Dean's intentions here, which was good. He could work on this. Dean piled up two plates on a bed tray one with bacon and eggs, the other with waffles, along with a glass of orange juice and a bottle of maple syrup. Honestly, he preferred strawberry syrup, but he was all out.
The look in those ocean blues when Cas saw the tray was heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. His lower lip shook as Dean brought the tray closer and set it atop of Cas' covered legs while the man stared at the food for a good few seconds before he lifted his gaze, eyes slightly tearing up. "Thank you." He whispered, barely audible and Dean nodded back with a smile.
Cas slowly reached and started eating, and Dean stood there for a few moments before finally asking "Is it alright if I sit?" motioning at the edge of the bed. Cas looked up at him, swallowed and nodded.
"Is it good?" Dean asked nodding at the bed tray. He realized his mistake when Cas stopped mid chew and started to look really uncomfortable. "No, no, I didn't mean... I didn't mean to make you feel bad, I was just curious if you thought... I like praise, alright?" Dean tried to fix the situation by revealing something about himself he didn't even know was there.
"It is very good." Cas replied, a bit relaxed. "Did you... Do you wish..." Cas started, motioning at the plates, and Dean shook his head.
"No, no, I already ate. Thanks."
"Thank you." Cas replied, to which Dean offered a pleased smile.
"Listen, I know... I know you said you'd be okay on your own, but... I really want you to stay. At... At least until your leg heals?"And I come up with another excuse for you to stay.
Cas frowned looking downward, then flexed his toes, his frown deepening into a wince.
"Please?" Dean added, making the whole thing sound like Cas staying was more for Dean's piece of mind then Cas' benefit. Maybe that was what did the trick? Dean could only hope Cas thought that much of him to have it be the reason of him staying.
"Are you... Are you sure I won't be in the way?" Cas asked carefully, biting down on the side of his lower lip, making Dean's heart skip a beat.
"Of... Of course you won't... I gotta stay in too, finish up on Balth's follow up article and start on my next project. And don't worry about the shelter, Zeke and Josh took some vacation days, so they'll be there to help." Dean jumped to say, ridding Cas of any possible arguments. Still, Cas didn't give any answer, aside from the small contemplative frown and a distant look in his eyes as he stared into the ground.
Dean practically wanted to beg, but wisely kept his mouth shut, knowing not to push. Let Cas thinking it over. It's not as if he would up and leave right now.
"Why don't you eat up, and I'll go get you your bag. I'm not sure how much of the stuff is dry, so if you want, I can wash it for you as well. Maybe borrow you one of my sweats until the clothes are dry?" Dean offered, getting up, turning towards the door, but still remaining focused on Cas.
"I wouldn't want to impose." Cas said, his big blue eyes lifting up to meet Dean's.
"Not imposing. This is something I want to do. Let me. Please?" And yeah, he wasn't just talking about wet clothes, and they both knew it, but it was easier like this. It was easier for Cas to accept, and Dean really,reallywanted him to stay.
With that tiniest nod, Dean breathed out a silent sigh of relief then smiled back at the man widely, before he left the room to go fetch the bag. He wanted to give Cas some space, some time to process it all, but he was too impatient, so he was back in the room within minutes.
Cas just about finished with the breakfast, looking so sheepish when he handed back the bed tray, plates completely empty. Dean's heart broke all over again at the thought that Cas had been hungry, but couldn't or wouldn't ask for food. He wanted to offer more, he could make more pancakes, or make toast, more eggs, but he knew Cas wouldn't accept. So he offered the next best thing.
"Oh, I totally forgot! You drink coffee? I made a pot just before you woke, it's still hot?" Dean said, asked?, he wasn't even sure himself, all he knew that if Cas asked for his soul right now, he would give it. But Cas wouldn't ask. Cas never asked for anything and he was missing so much, he was cold and hungry, and... No, it wasn't helpful, to go in that direction. Cas was here now, he was safe. Focus on keeping it like that. "You take cream and sugar too, right?" Dean said, bolting out the door to the kitchen before Cas could even agree.
When he came back minutes later, with the a steaming mug in his hand, he found Cas still sitting in the bed, covered, looking sadly over his - really wet- belongings. "Come on. Lemme take those and wash them. Got your coffee."
Cas looked up at him, silent and so fucking lost, Dean felt as if his heart was wrenched out of his chest. He looked so hopeless, so defeated, so close to crying, and if he started, Dean was certain he wouldn't be able to stay away.
Cas took a deep breath.
It was clear he was trying to compose himself, to keep it together, and Dean knew he had to offer him an out. He put the hot mug in his hand, nudged it towards him, and Cas took the hint, took another deep breath over the mug, inhaling the soothing rich aroma of coffee.
The small smile Cas offered as a thank you damned Dean's heart all over again, shattering it to pieces once more.
Dean left him for a bit longer this time, putting the clothes in the washer, making sure the bathroom was relatively clean. Considering he hadn't done any thorough cleaning in over a month, since he started at the shelter, Dean was grateful there wasn't any mildew. Same was for the rest of the apartment. Definitely a little dusty and in need of a proper vacuuming, but not overall messy. He cleaned what he could while Cas was asleep, praying to avoid his bedroom in the tour. It was like a bomb exploded in there.
When Dean returned to the room half an hour later (because he couldn't stand to pace around anymore), he had to huff a smile at Cas' baffled expression. He was carrying some clean, folded clothes and on top of it - a roll of stretch wrap.
"It's for your leg. For the shower. Zeke said not to get the bandage wet." Dean said as he set the items on the edge of the bed. "I got a clean shirt, sweets, unpacked underwear, socks aaaaaand..." Dean hopped (yes, hopped, God knew why) to one of the boxes in the corner, opened one and pulled out a bundle of something soft and fluffy. "... A bathrobe." He said with a triumphant look on his face. But it brought out a small out of Cas, so it was definitely worth it.
"I'll wait outside for you to change, then show you to the bathroom, alright?" Dean added, waited for Cas to nod, then went outside to wait. Cas took his time, and Dean wondered if he was overwhelmed with this whole thing, or had trouble wrapping up his hurt leg, maybe even trouble walking, but there wasn't anything Dean could do about it. Not that he didn't want to.
He wanted to talk to him, to assure him it was alright to accept help, that he was a friend and that Dean cared about him a great deal and by refusing his help, Cas was only hurting him. Hurting them both.
Of course, he also wanted to help him, make sure the leg was wrapped tightly, worried that water might cause an infection or whatever (give him a break, he ain't no doctor). He also wanted to help him to his feet, support him, physically and emotionally. Hold him close and never let him go.
Instead, he took a deep breath, calming his racing heart. Cas was here. He was safe. That's what mattered.
When Cas finally emerged, blushing like crazy, wearing one of Dean's old robes, Dean grinned up at him, but then toned it down, not wanting to make the man even more uncomfortable. Cas was limping, not putting weight on the hurt leg, and Dean fought hard to resist the urge to help him. Instead, he slowed his pace as they walked down the hall. Behind them was the entrance to the apartment, before them stretched a long hall. To the right was first the spare bedroom, the one Cas was in, and next to it was another door.
"That there is my bedroom, and upfront there is the bathroom and laundry room." Dean said as they walked forward. They just reached the bathroom door when Dean pointed to the left. "And here is the living room/dining room/office with the kitchen there in the back."
It was really a lot more to it then what Dean said, and the amazed look in Cas' eyes spoke volumes of it. In the far end of the room, parallel to the front door was a small archway and a kitchen beyond it. In front of it was a perfectly sized dining table with comfortable looking chairs. The space before it, right in front of them, was occupied by a couch and two recliners in front of two big shelves filled with book and a big size TV in between. Beyond were glass doors and a small porch that led outside into a garden.
Last, there was a small desk up against the hall wall, a laptop and loads of papers with handwritten text on them.
"I'll be here, at the desk, working, and when you're done, you could come and relax on the couch, maybe watch TV, or read..."
"Are you sure I won't be in the way?"
"Positive. I just gotta read through the article, make sure I got everything I wanted, and do a spell check and grammar, you know..."
"You want me to proofread it for you?" Cas offered, and Dean smiled widely. Of course he would let him read it, but this was a bigger thing. Letting Casproofread it gave him a sense of purpose and maybe some control and that would be a very good thing, right? Dean thought so.
"Would you?"
"Of course."
"Awesome."
It was a cliche, but seeing Cas' come out of that bathroom, little droplets of water still clinging to his hair, skin flushed and wearingDean'sclothes did make Dean's breath hitch, but he concealed it, easily replacing it with slight concern for the leg wound.
"You didn't get it wet?" He asked, and... Why were Cas' eyes going wide?
"Get what wet?" He said in an urgent manner, turning around to peek in the bathroom again. Dean gave a small chuckle, then pointed to his leg.
"The wound. I meant the wound."
"Oh. No, I... Um. I didn't."
"Good. Good. Um... Why don't you go sit down and relax, get off that leg - Zeke said to keep it elevated." Dean said getting up, pausing with uncertainty. For a moment there, he nearly grabbed the man's hand to lead him to the couch, but he stopped himself just in time. Instead, he walked to the couch, and fumbled for the remote.
"TV?" Dean asked as Cas limped to the couch. He watched him take a curious glance at the shelves, probably a lot more interested in what they carried than what's on the TV, but since he needed to sit and rest, Cas nodded, sat down and took the offered remote. Dean lingered a bit, wondering what would Cas choose to watch, smiling when it turned out to be a movie channel. Still, Cas seemed more interested in the books on the shelves, and Dean left him to it, going to finish up with his work.
An hour later, Dean was sure he rushed it, but he couldn't help it. He was too eager to be around Cas, to focus on him, because he was there, right there, sitting in his living room, not moving, not speaking, not changing channels or flipping though books, just sitting there, quietly.
"There. All done. You still sure you want to read it?"
"Only if you want me to." Cas replied and Dean huffed a laugh. Of course he wanted Cas to read it. And tell him it was good. Praise him. You know.
Cas skimmed through it within a minute, humming as he kept scrolling down, then went back and reread it again, slower that time. When he was finished, he looked up at Dean with a dose of uncertainty in his eyes, starting to say something, then closing his mouth shut.
"It sucks, doesn't it?" Dean finally asked, feeling like he failed.
"No, it does not 'suck'." Cas replied and wowey. The guy actually used air quotes? How come Dean didn't know that? "It is really good, concept-wise. But there are a few things that could use improvement. I could edit this for you, or... Maybe we could go through it and I could explain it?"
FuckGrammarling, Cas was nonpareil, unsurpassable, transcendent even! And Dean got to sit next to him, listen to him talk and point out why a one phrase was better then another, why this word was redundant and why that word could be replaced by one a bit more formal, and therefore "...much more suitable for an article of this nature... But then again, the word you used is... So much more you, so perhaps it would be best to... Leave it be?"
Cas wasn't condescending like Naomi could be, he didn't just point out his mistakes, he asked Dean questions, took in his suggestions and really worked like a team player. Dean had no idea if Cas was just naturally good with people like that, or did he work so well with Dean (not that he didn't hope it was the second option, just because).
"Thanks, Cas. Really. This turned out way more awesome then anything I ever wrote."
"Glad to be of any help." Cas replied, making Dean pause. Was Cas only doing this because he thought he was obligated to? Or was it that he was grateful for Dean taking him in , so he thought he should... Contribute?
But then, there was a small, appreciative smile on his face and Dean understood. He understood that Cas needed this. Needed to feel at least a bit useful for this to work. Dean could manage that.
Whatever it took to make him stay.
"Pizza for lunch? I could roll the dough if you slice up the salami, grind the cheese?" Dean offered.
"Of course." Cas replied with a small smile on his face.
Whatever it took.