Castiel's POV
It's incredibly strange to sit across from him. Sleeping next to him last night was even stranger.
Castiel didn't sleep last night. At all. And if his senses were right, Dean hadn't slept much either.
"But I fucking love him!"
It's just that one line — that one single line — those five words — that are lodged into his head so hard it's beginning to drive him insane.
I can't believe I said it out loud.
He actually really can't believe it. It's all been so surreal, and until the words flew so un-accordingly out of his mouth, he, himself had never realized how much truth were behind those words.
He loves him.
He really does. He doesn't know why it's taken him so long to realize it, but Castiel knows it. A part of him feels like he's known it ever since he'd met Dean — that this would be the guy he would fall so insanely for. But now that he's said it allowed, Castiel knows it's true, knows that he meant what he said last night. However, he doesn't know how Dean feels.
Dean had just stood there, skin as white as a ghost, and mouth gaped for so long he could've started to catch flies. Dean had barely said anything to him after that, helping Castiel clear the table and running straight upstairs to bed afterwards...without a word.
Castiel can't blame him, though. It's a lot to take in, especially if you've only known the person for a little over a week. It's quite odd when Castiel thinks of that, actually, how they've only known each other for such a short time, and how he's one hundred percent positive that what he said last night was the truth.
He's terrified to confront Dean about it. What if he brings it up and Dean wants to leave? What if Dean gets angry at him? What if he tells Castiel that he was just a toy for Dean's amusement?
What if Dean doesn't love him back.
Castiel wants to ask him, but he knows damn well that he shouldn't ask questions he doesn't want to know the answer to. He knows what he said last night will need to be dealt with a some point. Castiel wants to get Dean to open up to him, to tell him things, to trust him. But not now. Not while they're sitting across from each other at the dining room table eating a very late breakfast.
Castiel slowly chews his scrambled eggs and flicks his eyes back and forth from Dean; who is completely silent and staring down at his plate.
"What would you like to do today?" Castiel asks, swallowing his food and trying to show off a half-ass smile, "There are some shops downtown, if you're interested."
Dean shrugs.
Castiel can feel the tension in his stomach building. "We could go hiking. Farther down the lake, there is a lovely trail in the forest that we could walk through."
Dean shrugs again.
Castiel grinds his teeth. Well if Dean is going to act like this, Castiel might as well just go upstairs and lock himself in the guest bedroom. He can't blame Dean for feeling awkward — but it doesn't have to be awkward if Dean doesn't make it awkward. But, Dean's failed at that.
Castiel decides to shut up and continue eating, although most of his appetite has vanished along with his motivation for trying. He toys around with a piece of sausage on his plate.
He can tell the next few hours are going to be torture. He can be civil, he can be talkative, he can be normal — but the question is, can Dean? If only Castiel could get into his head, he'd find out exactly what Dean thinks about all this, because God knows that Dean's not going to tell Castiel on his own.
It's one thing that Castiel hopes he can work out; which is, having Dean succumb to him. He wants Dean to talk to him. To tell him whats bothering him. To let him help. He knows that Dean says he isn't the 'talk-it-out-type', but if Dean doesn't trust Castiel enough to tell him when there's a problem, Castiel is doing something wrong.
And Castiel doesn't want to be doing anything wrong.
"I guess we can go hiking." Dean says suddenly, and Castiel's head shoots up from his plate.
Castiel nods apprehensively. "Okay."
"I feel like I'm walking through Hell."
"Not Hell," Castiel counters, pushing a branch out of his way, "Maybe Purgatory. Hell is described as a fiery, outer darkness with soulless beings. However, my mother used to tell me that Purgatory was where un-purified souls were sent, a place lacking in happiness, almost like walking through a forest for ever and ever, without ever finding a way out."
Dean scoffs. "You lost me at 'fiery, outer darkness', Cas."
Castiel laughs. "It is rather a beautiful day for a walk, though." He says, listening to faint cicadas in the distance and the rustle of leaves. Castiel steps over a hole, depressions that you would tend to stumble in as you walk.
The dirt trail in front of him is thin, not enough for the two of them to walk side by side, so Castiel trails back and allows Dean to lead the way, although Dean has no idea where he's going. Castiel wants to walk next to him, but if he tried, he'd most likely end up falling over the small hill adjacent to them and tumble right down into the lake beneath.
Castiel's okay with walking behind Dean, though. Mainly so Castiel can stare at his ass; basketball shorts look good on him.
"It's sticky and humid. And I keep getting eaten alive," Dean says, swatting a mosquito on his arm and pushes away a spruce branch that slapped his chest, "And how much longer are we gonna' be walking up this hill? My calves are burning and I'm pretty sure these branches want to kill me."
"I told you to put on bug spray." Castiel snarls, "And just a little longer. Don't be so whiny." He says. Dean turns around and flashes him an annoyed glare before swatting another bug on his leg. Castiel can't help but smile at him.
Dean slows down so that he's only a few feet in front of Castiel. "Did you do this a lot as a kid?"
"Only when I needed to," Castiel answers back. Which is true, because he had only ever really come to the trail when he needed to get away from his family. Dean nods his head, seeming to understand what Castiel meant.
Castiel knows these trails like the back of his hand. He points to a tall patch of bushes a little farther up the trail that creates a sort of wall-like obstacle in between the trees. "Walk through that." Castiel says.
Dean stops and turns around again. "What the hell's on the other side?"
"An immediate drop-off. I want you to walk through so you will fall to your death." Castiel scowls sarcastically.
Dean huffs. "Only if you go first," He smirks back.
Castiel glares at him and pushes past him to start walking towards the wall of leaves and vines, where the late afternoon sunset had just begun to peak through the crevices of where the leaves separate. Castiel swipes his hand through and pushes the leaves aside, sliding through the wall and coming face to face with the view he thought he may never see again. Castiel stands there for a minute or two before he finally hears Dean begin to rustle through the vines.
Dean inhales. "Holy shit."
Castiel nods. "I know."
"The hill was worth it."
Castiel nods. From where they stand, they can see everything. Next to them the land stretches for miles, although about ten feet in front of them is the edge of the cliff, where they can see the tops of the pine trees trying to get a glimpse over their side of the hill. Along its length, cottonwoods had sprung up; young trees a little more than twice a man's height. Lying in front, is the lake, wide stretched far out on either side of them and painted pink and orange by the sun. And just beyond the lake, is the familiar wooden cabin with a big backyard and the greenest grass to ever grow out of the earth.
Dean stares for a little longer before walking forward and sitting down on the edge of the hill-like cliff, swinging his legs to dangle over the sides. He looks over his shoulder and motions for Castiel to join him.
"Dean, that's dangerous." Castiel remarks.
Dean rolls his eyes. "C'mon, Cas. I think you know me well enough to know that I live for the danger."
Castiel can't argue with that. It's a tad nerve-racking when Castiel peers his eyes over the edge of the cliff; below them is a solid one hundred foot drop into the rocky abyss of the lake underneath. But somehow, it's alright. If they were to fall, Castiel just somehow wouldn't mind.
Castiel cautiously sits down next to Dean and sways his legs over the edge. Dean shifts closer to him.
"It really is a view, Cas."
Castiel looks to him, his lips curling to the sides as he watches the man next to him fall into a soft euphoria. His speckled green eyes seem to laugh even though he, himself, isn't. "Yeah," Castiel agrees, although not even looking at the view in front of him, "It is."
Ask him about it.
No, no — never mind.
Castiel reverts his attention to the lake, contemplating whether now is a good time to bring up last night. He's so scared to ask, he can even feel the tips of his fingers begin to shake at the thought. Castiel feels the anxiety start to grow and tries to brush off the feeling by bringing up something else.
"Have you spoken to Sam?"
"Kinda'," Dean shrugs, "I've texted him and told him why we left that night. He said he understood. He's smart enough to know that I'm smart enough to be careful. And anyways, he's got other things to worry about, like listen to Ruby talk about honeymooning spots for the next week."
"I like Ruby." Castiel says with a nod, "Sometimes she reminds me of Gabriel. He would love her."
Dean grunts a laugh, "If only she had met Gabriel before she met Sam."
Castiel looks to Dean knowingly. "I think you like her, too. You just don't believe you like her."
"And why's that?" Dean asks.
"Because you wouldn't have let Sam marry her if you didn't."
Dean exhales a sharp laugh but doesn't respond. They stare at the lake and the horizon for a while, listening to the sharp sting of cicadas and crickets behind them. The sun begins to drone over the tips of the trees. Castiel wants to grab Dean's hand, but is scared of what he might do. Castiel doesn't want him to pull his hand away.
"Have you talked to Gabriel? Or Anna?" Dean speaks up.
Castiel tenses a little. "Unfortunately, no. I would assume Gabe knows that I—we—are here, however. There's no place else we could have gone, and if Gabe's as smart as I hope he is, he would know. Anna, however, is probably a worried mess."
Dean smirks. "You should call them, Cas. Just to tell them you're safe."
Castiel responds quickly, "They know I'm safe." He says, bouncing his dangling feet. His exposed calves beneath his black basketball shorts rub harshly against the dirt. He does know he's safe. He knows he's safe here with Dean, and he also knows that his siblings, excluding Michael, know that Dean will keep him safe.
He watches Dean itch a big-bite.
"Fuckin' mosquitoes. I've turned into an all-you-can-eat buffet." Dean whines.
"Here," Castiel slings the backpack off his shoulders, "I brought bug-spray." He says, digging his hand down the large backpack.
"Dude, I'm not putting that shit on me." Dean shakes his head and places a delicate hand on his chest, "It'll get rid of my natural musk."
Castiel shoots his eyebrows up. "Oh please." He laughs, and Dean grins back. Castiel suddenly feels the whole inside of his bag vibrating.
Dean looks up at him, confused. "What is that?"
Castiel rummages through the contents of the backpack. "It's my cell phone," Castiel says, finally able to grab his phone. He reads the caller ID: private number. He stands and brushes the dirt off him, "It's probably just work. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."
Dean gives him a sarcastic glare. "If I'm gone just assume I fell off."
Castiel rolls his eyes and makes his way through the wall of leaves again, walking a little further up the trail and flipping his phone to his ear.
"Castiel Milton." He says, deeper than usual. There's a long pause. "Hello?" Castiel asks again.
There's a sharp inhale on the other line.
"Castiel."
Castiel gasps. "Mother?!"
"Please, don't hang up."
Castiel feels the tension in his muscles begin to stir. This woman had nerve. "Why shouldn't I?"
"Just give me a minute of your time."
Castiel doesn't want to give her a minute of his time. Because it's a fucking waste of a good sixty seconds. "Fine." Castiel agrees.
"Castiel, there's — there's something wrong with him—"
Castiel huffs. "Mother, stop." He says calmly. He's breathing as slowly as his body will allow him to.
"I could see it as soon as I walked into that house. There's something that boy's not telling you, Castiel. There's something wrong about him." Naomi says firmly, without any hesitation or stutter to her thick tone. Castiel knows she's being serious.
Castiel inhales and exhales. "Mother, I'm going to try not to yell, but there is nothing wrong with him. He protects me. He keeps me safe, and I trust him."
"I don't. He's bad news, Castiel. He's another repeat of Balthazar."
Castiel's whole body tenses.
"How dare you bring that up, Mother!" Castiel raises his voice, but only a little, trying to avoid from screaming too loud for Dean to hear, "He is nothing like Balthazar!"
"You know what happened! You sinned with him and then God punished you for it. It's just going to happen all over again, Castiel. Don't you see that?"
"I can't believe I let you waste my time like this. Goodbye, Mother. And don't think about calling again." Castiel slams the button on his screen and shoves the phone in his pocket. He's trying to be calm, he really is, but the pulse in his ears is so loud that all he wants to do is scream.
How dare she.
"How fucking dare she," Castiel grits through closed teeth. He kicks a rock across the dirt trail and tries to collect himself. She brought up something that Castiel had never wanted to think or hear about ever again in his life; she knows what he had done to him, she knows what had happened and how much it hurt.
Castiel shakes his head. "Dean is not like that," He whispers to himself quietly, staring at the wall of leaves, "He's not."
Dean's been there for him. Dean's done everything he possibly can to make Castiel feel safe, and loved. Not loved in the sense he would like it to be, but nevertheless, loved. Shaking off the thought as best he can, Castiel exhales and begins walking back towards the wall of leaves.
It's a little bit darker now in the shade of the forest, mounts and drapes of branches striving to be a canopy above his head, blocking out the sky so Castiel can only see thin slivers of a darkened pink color. As soon as his hands slide through the wall of leaves, more color begins to crawl it's way through until he's assailed with orange and pink rays. Dean is still sitting, swinging his legs off the edge. He turns around once Castiel wriggles through.
"Hey." Dean smiles.
Castiel's stomach swirls. It really is quite funny to him that all Dean has to say is 'Hey' for Castiel to melt into a heated mess, "Did you miss me?" Castiel responds, plopping back down next to Dean.
Dean gives him a nudge. "Like a pie without the apple filling."
Castiel smiles warmly. He loves him. He really does. He doesn't respond, and neither of them talk for a while, leaving the crickets to take over the silence. And surprisingly, it's not awkward. It's not strange, it's not uncomfortable. It's totally and completely, all right. Castiel slowly feels the conversation with his mother fading and fading away out of his mind. They watch the sun set farther down into the Earth, swinging their legs over the edge and kicking each other playfully. Castiel wouldn't rather be anywhere else.
As the sun set even more, the bugs began to scatter and fly away, and the pink and orange of the sky began to darken, and darken, until only a curve of color is left. Castiel feels a shiver.
"Are you cold?" Castiel asks, opening his bag and removing a thick, large, plaid red and black flannel blanket. "I have a blanket."
"No, but—" Dean says, reaching for the blanket anyways. He stands with it and walks a few feet away from the cliff, waving it in the air and spreading it out on the ground, "—but I think we should sleep here tonight."
Castiel tilts his head, "What?"
"It's warm enough. Bugs went somewhere else." Dean shrugs, "Why the hell not?"
Castiel shakes his head with a smile but agrees, crawling to the blanket and sitting cross legged on top of it. Dean lays on his back with a sigh.
"How are you, Cas?" Dean asks deeply, his eyes seeming to really concentrate on Castiel.
Castiel looks down at him. "I'm fine. Why?"
Dean huffs a laugh, "In all my thirty years, I swear, Cas, I've never seen someone as bad of a liar as you."
Castiel blushes and shakes his head, lying down on his back next to Dean and looking up at the darkened sky. He can just begin to see the stars peek out. Dean's right, though, he is an awful liar, but Castiel doesn't want to tell him. He doesn't want to tell him about the conversation with his mother. He doesn't want to tell him any of it. However, Castiel does have something on his mind that's been there for awhile. Something he's been avoiding, trying to push it in the back of his mind hoping maybe the thought would give up; but it doesn't.
So he asks.
"May I ask you something, Dean?"
"Alright, hit me."
Castiel feels jolts of shivers run across his arms. "Why me?"
Dean turns his head and furrows his eyebrows at him. "What?"
"Why me, Dean? Why are you here?"
Dean turns his head away and looks up at the sky. His lips part to speak, and he pauses for a few moments causing Castiel's chills to worsen. "Because I want to be," He says finally.
Castiel shakes his head. "I'm not good, Dean. I'm not worth it—"
"Hey!" Dean raises his voice, "Don't you say that. Ever."
Castiel quiets down. "I was only speaking my mind." He says; which is true.
At some point, everyone thinks they're worthless. And it's a thin line that has to be walked across to eventually know that you are worthy. Such a thin line, a tightrope, one side of it makes you stronger, the other side kills you. It's a long journey there, not an easy one, and Castiel just so happens to feel like he's too afraid to even touch the rope at all, and he's just waiting on one side of a tall, tall building, waiting to build up the courage to take the first step onto the rope.
"I've made mistakes too, Cas. Awful ones," Dean inhales sharply and shakes his head, "I know what it feels like to look in a mirror and hate what you see. But just because you think you're worthless, doesn't mean it's true."
Castiel sighs. "Dean—"
Dean cuts him off. "Yeah, yeah, I know—why listen to me, right? But let me tell you somethin', Cas. Fucking up is something we all do. Sometimes, we're the ones that end up getting fucked over. There's really nothing that we as humans can do about it, and that sucks. It fucking sucks. But, once you realize your past is just a story, it has no power over you."
Castiel clenches his teeth.
He's right. Goddammit he's right.
He looks to Dean, still staring up at the stars, a little more still and blank than usual. Castiel then realizes something he never had even thought of before: Dean's been screwed over. He's been screwed over just like Castiel has.
Castiel shuts his eyes.
"He left me at the altar."
Dean turns sharply to Castiel. "What?"
"He waited until our wedding day to tell me he cheated on me and was in love with someone else." Castiel responds, and now it's his turn to stare blankly up at the now visible stars. He focuses in one one in particular and concentrates hard on it, "His name was Balthazar. I remember standing up there like a fool as he told me, confessed in front of everyone and ran off with some guy he met online." Castiel says, letting all the air out in his lungs slowly.
"I was afraid to love again." Castiel adds, "I was so scared."
Dean looks to him and squints his eyes, "Is that why you ran away in the elevator that one time?"
Castiel laughs embarrassingly. "I knew I was getting too close to you. I didn't want to get hurt, but—"
I wanted it.
Castiel can remember that night in the broken down elevator like it was just yesterday. How he was so scared, so nervous when Dean started inching towards him. He had wanted nothing more than to kiss him, to touch him; but he had been too afraid. Too afraid to fall in love again and lose someone he had already begun to care so much about. He had been scared to take the chance, but he did it.
And he's happy with the chance he took.
Dean doesn't say anything for a while. And that's okay. Castiel's okay with just listening to the crickets. He's okay with trying to count the stars. It was hard, admitting that to Dean, admitting his greatest mistake, his greatest flaw; loving someone who would eventually screw you over. It was hard, but somehow Castiel feels okay to tell him. He knows he won't be judged.
Dean clears his throat.
"My fiancé slept with my best friend."
Castiel tilts his head ever so slightly to Dean.
"Walked right in on it. Not the first time it happened, too." Dean laughs and turns to Castiel, "Would you believe, five years of a relationship, gone to shit. Apparently they'd been in the sheets for years before that. I mean, so had me and her, and can you believe that neither me or Benny had known? Eventually Lisa'd gotten pregnant, which is really what made me go into a relationship in the first place." Dean laughs again and wiggles a little closer to Castiel.
Castiel grabs his hand.
"I thought the kid was mine. I thought he was my son, Cas." Dean tightens his fingers in Castiel's, "But he was Benny's. He was my best friends son. Should've known — God, I should've known. The kid's name is Ben for Christ sake, I mean Jesus, how could I be so stupid?"
"You weren't being stupid Dean." Castiel says quietly.
Dean shakes his head. "I stayed with her," He says, looking to Castiel with more shame on his face than he'd ever seen on a man, "I stayed with her because I didn't think I deserved anyone better."
Castiel can feel his chest hollow. He wants to do something, he wants to make it better, but he can't.
"Dean—"
"It's okay, Cas." Dean lolls his head completely in Castiel's direction so they're only inches away. "I've found someone better."
Castiel smiles widely. Dean had just given him the push that he needed to step onto the rope.
"Guess we've both been pretty screwed over, huh?" Dean says again with a grin.
Castiel has to agree. "Lover and parents alike."
Dean turns at the sky again, his smile slowly fading. "It's just my Dad."
Castiel feels every muscle in his body tighten. "Oh, oh my—I'm so sorry Dean I—"
"It's okay," Dean smiles, but Castiel can see right through the fake curves of his lips, "I was young. It was a house fire."
Castiel feels awful. If only he had known. And suddenly he wants nothing more than to hold on to Dean and never let him go. "It wasn't your fault, Dean. There was nothing you could have—"
"I left the stove on."
Castiel freezes.
He can't say anything. No matter how much he wants to open his lips and tell Dean he's sorry over and over again until his ears bleed, no matter how bad he wants to cry, no matter how much he wants to squeeze his hand tighter; he can't. He's frozen. If only he had known.
"I don't remember much of her," Dean continues, "But I remember she was beautiful. And she would always sing 'Hey Jude' to me when I went to bed, and she'd make me soup when I was sick. I remember she was the best mom someone could hope for."
Castiel can feel the heat begin to rise to his cheeks. He doesn't even remember when his eyes started to water. He's never seen this side of Dean. He's never known how truly broken he is. But every word that comes out of Dean's mouth, no matter how shattered it may be, just makes Castiel love him even more. He's never thought he deserved someone as special as Dean, but goddammit, he wants this.
Dean untangles his hand and swings his arm to the other side of Castiel's shoulder, pulling him tightly into his side. Castiel accepts the warmth, cherishes it, curling up against Dean's side. Dean rubs his arm.
"She would love you, Cas." Dean says, kissing the top of his head, "Mary would really love you."
Castiel's head perks up. "What an odd coincidence," Castiel smiles, "Mary is the name of the lake. Mary's Lake."
Dean laughs. "Hell of a coincidence."
Castiel nestles back into the warmth again, kissing the bare skin of Dean's neck.
"Coincidence is just God's way of being anonymous."