AN: Happy Birthday Worm!
After 15x03 you said "If the next episode isn't ALL about Dean chasing after Cas and grovelling for forgiveness, I will never recover." So here is some chasing and grovelling. Part 2 will be sexytimes. Because we all deserve it.
I've used and reworked some dialogue from 15x03 and 15x09. Because that speech of Dean's in 15x09 was perfection.
As this work is a gift for my usual beta, it has not been beta'd.
Dean felt the words bubbling up, fighting to make their way out. He tried not to say them, he knew they weren't true. That he was just too angry to deal with… well, anything.
And after the couple of days that they'd had, Chuck, demons, monsters, Rowena, Sam's injury... He was at the end of everything; his strength, his patience, his ability to tamp down on his anger. It felt like the only thing he had left was his anger. And he clung to that like it was a lifeline. So when Cas had said that something always goes wrong with their plans he'd just snapped. And Cas was the only thing in front of him that he could aim his anger at.
"Yeah, why does that something always seem to be you?" he'd spat at Cas. God, he'd regretted it the moment the words were out of his mouth, but he wouldn't take them back. He couldn't. He didn't have the strength to show Cas any weakness, to show Cas how he was really feeling, because if he did? He might just never be able to put the pieces back together again.
But Cas had looked so broken as he'd said, "You used to trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt. Now you can barely look at me. My powers are failing, and—and I've tried to talk to you, over and over, and you just don't want to hear it. You don't care. I'm... dead to you. You still blame me for Mary."
Listening to Cas say those things, to know that he really believed that was how Dean had felt had nearly killed Dean. But still, all he'd been able to do was nod, as if he was agreeing with Cas. And nothing could have been further from the truth. He was just so fucking angry. At everything and everyone. But mostly at himself.
And then Cas had left. He'd just left. Dean had honestly never thought that would happen. But he realised immediately that it was his fault. He'd pushed Cas away, made him believe that Dean didn't want him around. Didn't want him. Dean had laughed cruelly to himself.
"Way to go, Dean," he told himself. "One of only two good things left in your life and you fuck that up. What kind of an asshole are you?" And with that he'd got up and fetched a bottle of whisky, prepared to drink himself unconscious.
He was lying on his bed, more than halfway through the bottle of whisky, when Sam found him.
"Hey, have you seen Cas? I wanted to ask him something. I was thinking about Rowena, and I think it's possible…" he trailed off. "What's wrong?"
Dean had chuckled darkly. "He's gone."
"What?"
"Cas. He's gone. He left." Dean waved his hand vaguely and took another swig from the bottle.
Sam rubbed his hand over his face, and walked over to Dean's bed. He sat down on the mattress and looked over at his brother sadly.
"What did you do?" he asked quietly. There wasn't even any accusation in his voice. Maybe Sam was tired of Dean's crap too. Maybe he'd leave soon, too. Serve me right , thought Dean.
Then he sighed. No use bullshitting Sam. They didn't do that anymore. "I kind of let him think I blamed him for Mom's death." Dean said the words quietly, like he didn't really want to let them out.
Sam took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. "Dean."
"I know, man. Okay? I know!" Dean threw the mostly empty bottle of booze across the room, and heard it shatter with satisfaction.
Sam didn't even flinch. "So? What are you going to do?" He looked directly at his brother, not allowing Dean to hide from what he knew he had to do.
Dean closed his eyes. "Go after him. Beg for forgiveness?" he spoke softly, his voice lilting up as if he was asking for Sam's approval.
Sam gave a small smile and patted his brother's leg as he stood up to leave him. "Yep," he said. "Keep your phone on, though. I need to be able to get hold of you." And he walked out of the room.
Dean smiled a very small, sad smile. God, he didn't deserve Sam. And he certainly didn't deserve Cas. He rubbed his left shoulder, which still bore the imprint of Castiel's hand. He often found himself rubbing that scar when thinking about Cas. It always made him feel closer to him somehow.
Dean was sure that he'd pushed it too far this time. There was no way Cas could forgive him for this. But he had to try.
He threw some clothes and his toiletry bag into his duffel, grabbed the car keys, made sure he had his phone, and left. He had no idea how he was going to find Cas, or where, but he had to try. He would grovel on his knees, if it meant that Cas would forgive him and come back.
Turns out Dean knew Cas pretty well. The angel was at the fourth place Dean looked for him, sitting on a bench at the only miniature golf course in Lebanon. It was early morning on a weekday, so there weren't any people around except for the maintenance guy. Cas often liked to sit here and watch the families play the course, but right now he was staring at the ground in front of his feet.
Dean felt his heart climb into his throat. He'd screwed up so badly.
He stood watching Cas for a while, not really knowing where to start. But it didn't take long for Cas to feel his eyes on him, and look up. He looked right at Dean for a long moment, before he looked away and stood up to leave. He didn't say a word.
"Cas, wait." Dean took a hesitant step forward, his hand stretching out as if to grab hold of Cas. He pulled it back quickly though.
Cas stopped walking, but he didn't turn around. He just stood there with his back to Dean.
Dean took another step forward. "I'm sorry," he whispered, so scared that he'd be rejected.
He saw Cas's shoulders stiffen and then sag. He started to walk away again.
"No!" Dean was starting to feel a little panicky. "Cas, please. Please don't walk away. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean any of it." Cas turned his head to the side a little. He was listening, at least. Dean put a hesitant hand on Cas's shoulder and felt the man flinch. It broke his heart.
"Look, can we—can we just sit for a moment? Talk?" Dean couldn't keep the desperation out of his voice.
"I can't imagine what else there is to say, Dean," Cas said sadly, but he turned around and sat back down on the bench.
Dean heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Okay," he nodded, almost to himself. "Okay," he said again, and knelt down in front of Cas, making sure he was directly in the man's eyeline.
"Look, Cas," he took another big breath. "Dammit, this shouldn't be so hard…" he looked away briefly, then back into Cas's eyes. He could do this.
"I should never have let you leave. I should never have said what I said, or let you believe that you're dead to me. God, Cas! You could never be dead to me! Hell, even when you were dead, I still felt you," he absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder, and Cas's eyes darted towards the movement. "You're my best friend. My... but it was easier to let you walk out than to admit I was wrong." Dean put both hands on Cas's knees. "I'm just so full of rage. About everything. I—I don't know why I get so angry. I just know that it's always been there... and when things go bad, it just comes out and I can't stop it. No matter how bad I want to, I just can't stop it, and then I say things and do things I wish I hadn't. And I forgive you, of course I forgive you! I'm sorry it took me so long to say it. Cas, I'm so fucking sorry." There were tears running down Dean's face and he struggled to get all the words out, but goddammit he would get them out. Cas would hear this.
Castiel was looking down at Dean with an intensity Dean wasn't sure he'd ever seen in him before. His eyes kept flickering towards Dean's left shoulder and Dean's tear-filled eyes. He looked like he was trying to make up his mind about something.
Then before Dean could wrap his brain around what was happening, Castiel had his hands on either side of Dean's face, thumbs wiping away the tears, before frantically bringing Dean's lips up to meet his own.