Hi Guys! Thanks again for all the feedback I received - I really appreciate it ;)
This chapter is a bit longer and finally we've started moving somewhere. Hope you'll enjoy it, let me know.
I've got some more almost done already so hopefully I'll post soon.
That's it, enjoy. L.
'Good sixteen hours of sleep will make sense of it all.' – Dean thought on his way back to Bobby's. He was relieved and happy Cas was getting better, but the angel puzzled him. What was the matter with him? And what was even more pressing – what was the matter with Dean? Now that Cas was fine and he could think clearly, Dean didn't understand his own reactions anymore.
Dean has had his fair share of near death experiences. And he has had more than enough losses of the loved ones in his life. He'd lost his mother and his father. He'd lost his friends, his allies and he'd lost Sammy too many times to count. He had even lost Cas once. He was supposed to be used to it. But the idea of loosing Cas again had crumpled him. When Anna told him Cas had gone for Raphael on his own, he'd almost lost it. He was enraged, true, but he was also so fucking scared, he barely had it in him to pull it together. There was almost no hope left that he'd make it in time to save the stupid son of the bitch and Dean was on the verge of giving up. Giving up everything – his fight, his brother, his hunt, everything. The slight hope that Cas might still be alive and that there's still might be chance to save him, was all he had. And Dean clutched it as the freakin' drowning man to the straw.
He ran like hell, leaving Sammy behind. In fact he didn't even think of him until he pulled up near the shack Anna's indicated. It didn't matter still.
He almost missed it. The fucking archangel was advancing with an angel sword to strike the last blow and Cas, although lying in front of him bleeding and badly hurt, was not only failing to defend himself, the idiot was actually… Almost smiling!
Dean put all the anger, hatred and fury he had in the strike he made. He felt the blade pierce the angel, he felt him stiffen in surprise and fear and he relished in his pain. There was no one in entire world that Dean hated more at that moment. He forgot everything he knew about dying angels and simply enjoyed the moment of victory, the moment he made sure Cas was safe. If not for Cas, he would have definitely gone blind – there's no way in hell he would have let go. But Cas called him and he saw the state he was in once again.
Dean let go of Raphael and ran to the beaten up angel and as he fell to his knees in front of him, he saw the light. For the fraction of the second he froze at the thought it was Castiel, but then he realized what was happening and fell on Cas, shielding both of their eyes.
And so Raphael was dead and Cas… He was broken. Dean scooped him up in his arms observing how every move he made pained Cas. He let out a soft groan, but didn't wake up.
Then came the hospital, and the surgeries, and that idiot of the doctor told him to get a priest! Dean prayed and prayed for Cas to get better. He knew God has abandoned them, but he prayed nevertheless. At some point Sammy came and left and still Cas wouldn't wake up. Until finally he did…
And now this dream of his! What was that about? Dean knew Castiel was different. He was an angel for crying out loud, and Dean was almost used to his little confusing quirks like standing too close or saying something disturbing like how he thought Dean was amazing. He even got used to him staring with those blue eyes, but this was different. This was not about what Cas was, it was more about what Dean felt around him.
Dean shook his head to clear his mind. 'There's nothing different!' – he thought fervently, – 'I'm just beat and I really need a shower. He just caught me off guard – I was worried about him, that's all.'
Except it wasn't all. He thought of Cas' words before he fell asleep. 'You said I've grown on you…' Well that's a fucking truth! That fool of an angel had really grown on him! With his ever present awkwardness, his quirks and oddities, his innocence… 'You didn't care about personal space.' What the fuck could that mean? Of course he did! Dean hated when people were standing too close to him – it made him uncomfortable. Well, except if it was a chick of course. He smiled to himself.
But then he thought of Cas standing close to him. Too fucking close. He thought of him smelling like he did – clean and somewhat… fresh. It had to be an angel thing – Cas always smelled great. He thought of his lips, inches away, full and slightly chapped. He thought he would like to touch them someday, to see how it feels. And then his blue eyes. Open and curious and… well, blue beyond everything else. And the way he looked at him – as if Dean was important, essential even. And Dean thought that maybe he didn't care about his personal space that much after all…
As soon as this thought sunk in, he shook his head quickly.
What the hell was the matter with him? It was Cas he was thinking about! It wasn't Lisa, or Cassie, or even Jo! It was Cas he was almost fantasizing about. For crying out loud, he needed to get some sleep, before he's gone completely mad. And then he definitely needed to get laid.
It took two weeks for Cas to get well completely. Dean was forced to take him home two days after he woke up, because he was getting way too much attention from the medical staff. If it was up to him, Dean would have made Cas stay in the hospital for at the very least two days more, but he heard Cas' doctor calling some specialist in Washington to come see his patient, who was healing miraculously fast. He took it as his queue and he smuggled Cas out that very night.
Cas was absolutely thrilled with going home. He loathed the hospital – not being much of a people's person himself he hated being prodded and asked questions constantly. So when Dean finally told him he was going home, he lit up like a freakin' light bulb, which made Dean less disgruntled by the fact that he was taking Cas home too soon.
In the weeks that followed, Cas' injures healed up quickly and fully and he seemed to get stronger and stronger with every passing minute. And so now, three weeks after Raphael nearly killed him, he was not only back to normal, but also seemed to be getting what Dean called "his mojo" back. His wings were still gone, but Cas confessed to Dean one evening he thought he might get them back soon too. His grace, on the other hand, was almost back. He wasn't zipping and zapping through places yet, but Dean thought it wouldn't take long now.
And to Dean's surprise, he realized he came to resent that Cas was getting back to his former angelic self.
"So, you think you'll be flapping your feathers soon?" – He asked bitterly one evening over three weeks after the near death incident. They were sitting at Bobby's, but Bobby was off on a sort of a reunion thing with his hunter friends and Sammy was not back from the store yet.
"I don't know. I think I ought to." – Cas replied looking at Dean curiously. – "Anna did regain her grace and then her wings."
"Great." – He grunted.
"You're displeased." – Castiel stated. Ever since regaining his grace, he was more tuned into Dean's emotions and could always tell if there was something wrong. However he was an angel and so even though he knew something's off, he didn't have the slightest idea what was it.
"No, I'm fucking happy, Cas." – Dean replied tiredly. He actually was happy Cas was better. In addition, Cas seemed happier with his grace than without it and Dean generally liked seeing Cas happy. But an angel Cas didn't really need Dean to look out for him. And an angel Cas was always so composed and well… not really there. And an angel Cas will sure as hell leave back for heaven one day.
"Dean, I…"
"No, Cas. It's fine. I'm fine." – He cut across him. Getting touchy – feely was definitely not something he wanted right now. What he did want was to get drunk and not to feel anymore. He was losing Cas. Yes, sure – he's safe and all. And Dean didn't have to worry about him getting cold, or getting hit by a freakin' car or anything anymore. But he was also leaving again. Not today, probably not tomorrow or even this week, but someday he will flap those wings of his and be gone. Dean couldn't even think of that day with the straight face. He flinched painfully, but then shook his head and suddenly forced a smile on a confused and worried angel.
"You know what Cas?" – He asked with the fake cheerfulness. – "We're going out today!"
"We are?"
"Sure as hell we are!" – He nodded. – "After all Raphael experience, I think we deserve some good time, don't you think?"
Suddenly Castiel smiled broadly and Dean felt his throat clench a little. Cas rarely ever smiled so freely and Dean was stunned by the effect this smile had on him.
"Are we going to a fair?" – He asked smiling still.
It took a moment for Dean to understand what Cas was asking. And then he remembered this dream Cas told him about and for a little while he was at a loss of what to say.
"Um… No. Sorry Cas, there's no fair around." – He stammered and felt his heart sink as Cas' face fell.
"Oh, alright then." – The angel nodded silently. – "What did you have in mind?"
"Well, I just thought we could go to a bar and get hammered." – Dean mumbled. He wasn't sure this was such a great idea after all. He looked at Cas trying to grasp what he was thinking. Instead he was momentarily frozen in place by the look in Cas' eyes. The angel was gazing at him intently, almost searchingly, as if he was trying to understand something or maybe to find something. Dean looked at him silently, but his mind was racing. As he looked at Cas' eyes it dawned on him just how much he cared for this awkward angel. He stared at those blue eyes and all he could think of was how much he wanted to reach out and touch him. The lightest of contacts would be enough, just to touch him… His gaze shifted from Cas' eyes to his lips and a new sort of want coursed through him, raging and fierce and undeniable. This is when Dean tore his gaze from Castiel's face and continued forcefully almost angrily. – "Or maybe we'll meet some chicks and get laid."
Castiel turned around at that very instance, hiding his face which bore undeniable signs of surprise mingled with hurt. What had he expected?
"Get laid…" – He repeated slowly and took a deep breath. – "Alright Dean, if this is what you want, we go to a bar."
"Cas…" – Dean muttered in softer voice, but Castiel just shook his head refusing to face him. Dean took a step closer to Cas – he couldn't stand not seeing his face, not knowing what was he thinking. Before he could do anything else, the door burst open and Sam's voice bellowed:
"Hey, some help here! Dean, your pie's slipping!"
Dean cursed under his breath, but Castiel strode purposefully towards Sam and took the pie along with couple of bags from him and Sam sighed with relief.
"Thanks, Dean would've killed me if I dropped his pie." – He smiled and stretched.
"No, he wouldn't have." – Cas argued seriously. – "He might have punched you though."
"You've got that right!" – Sam laughed. – "What have you two been up to?"
"Dean proposed we go to a bar and get hammered." – Castiel answered and the forced himself to continue indifferently. – "He hopes to engage in coitus with some woman afterwards."
Sam almost choked laughing his head off, but Dean stayed serious. He didn't like the way Cas looked. He knew he shouldn't have said what he did, but really, what else was there to do? He can't have these thoughts of Cas, he just can't! And getting laid is something that had always helped him – it was familiar and easy.
"Coitus!" – Sam gasped between fits of laughter. – "Cas, you're incredible!"
"Stop laughing yourself out!" – Dean growled. – "I'm not getting coitus, I'm getting laid! Pull yourself together and let's fucking go already."
An hour later they did their fifth shot and Castiel started feeling… weird. He felt slightly oozy, his vision blurred a little, but most surprising of all – he felt unnaturally emotional. As Dean and Sam went on and on about such unimportant things as the choice of a car, Cas had time to think of what was happening to him. He knew his attachment to Dean has grown over the past months that he had been almost human. The bond he shared with Dean had always been strong, but Castiel had thought this was because he had saved Dean from the Pit. Over the last couple of months he started realizing that Dean had become even more important. Castiel seemed to gravitate towards him wherever they were. Dean was always around too, as if he actually liked Cas to be near. Castiel knew he irritated the hunter quite often – he was inexperienced at being human or being around humans and he understood this was annoying, but although Dean liked rolling his eyes at Cas, he never really looked displeased with Castiel. That is, he never really looked displeased before Castiel started regaining his grace.
It troubled Castiel. He was an angel. He had always been an angel – with his grace or without it, but Dean seems to have preferred him without it and Cas was at a loss to understand it. With his grace, Castiel was stronger, he could help them so much more in their hunt – why was Dean displeased?
Suddenly, he was dragged from his confusing thoughts.
"Well hello here!" – Pleasant, slightly drawling voice sounded and Castiel looked at the beautiful young woman standing close to him and smiling at him. He smiled automatically.
"Hello."
"I've never seen you around – what has brought you to this God forsaken place?" – She asked sitting down so close to him their legs brushed against each other.
"God hasn't forsaken it. He just doesn't care about anything anymore." – Castiel corrected her and she laughed loudly.
"Well, if he doesn't, maybe you will. I'm Emma, by the way." – She took his hand and shook it, holding it few seconds too long. Not that Castiel had noticed – such things as length of a handshake were too trivial to bother to learn them.
"Castiel."
"Really? That's a funny name you've got, Castiel. Mind if I call you Blue Eyes?" – She leaned in closer still.
"I suppose not." – Castiel answered.
"I'd like to buy you a drink, Blue Eyes. Tequila?"
"I thought social protocol dictates me to buy you a drink." – Cas asked confusedly.
"Are you from fifties or what?" – She laughed again and waved at the barman to get more drinks. – "So, tell me, what brings you here?"
"My friends wanted to get drunk today. Why are you here?" – He asked politely, but failed to hear the answer as at that moment his gaze crossed that of Deans and he was shocked to see so much anger in Dean's expression. The hunter was staring at him angrily, his jaw clenched and his hands gripping the bar so tightly that his knuckles were all white. Castiel looked at Dean questioningly, trying to understand what has brought on this displeasure, but Dean seemed to compose himself – he simply shrugged and drank his next shot before turning away from Cas.
"You wanna dance?" – He heard her ask.
"I don't dance." – He answered still slightly perplexed. Dean was so confusing all the time.
"Nonsense!" – She chimed and then winked at him. – "Everybody dances with a good partner."
She put the tequila shot into Castiel's hand, saluted him and then drank it, making sure he did too. Then she took his hand and led him to the dance floor.
"Now, Blue Eyes, put your hands on my waist and just go with it!" – She wrapped her own arms around Castiels waist and started moving slowly to the music. It felt nice and Castiel relaxed a little. This wasn't that bad. A moment later she rested her head on his shoulder and whispered in his ear: - "You're good at it, Blue Eyes."
Against all odds Castiel finally managed to get his mind off Dean. He truly enjoyed dancing with this stranger. Castiel was sure the amount of shots in him had a big part in it, but he didn't really care that much. It was simply nice to hold someone after so much time of being careful of someone's personal space. He knew Emma was speaking to him, telling him some fun and probably interesting things, but all he concentrated on was the feeling of human body in his arms. He liked it despite knowing on some level it was all wrong – too short and too small. But it was a human who chose to allow Castiel to be close and he liked it.
They danced for a long time, but to Castiel it seemed just a couple of minutes. Finally, Emma apologized herself to a bathroom and Castiel looked around to see what Dean and Sam were doing.
Sam was sitting next to a woman, laughing and talking to her, but Dean was nowhere around. Castiel assumed he was also in the bathroom and decided to get some fresh air before his dancing companion returned.
He went outside and leaned against the wall of the building closing his eyes. His head spun slightly and to his surprise he liked it. He also liked the feeling of carelessness that engulfed him. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes and almost jumped.
Dean was standing right in front of him swaying slightly – very drunk and very angry.
"So you like dancing now, huh?" – His voice slurred, but there was no mistake about the anger and despair in it. – "Big and strong Angel of the Lord likes dancing! Who would've thought?"
"Dean…"
"Such an awkward angel's all of a sudden a ladies' man!" – He growled. – "Since when are you a fucking ladies' man, Castiel?"
"I don't understand Dean. Why are you so…" – But he couldn't finish as Dean shoved him at the wall and before he could react the hunter's mouth was pressed hard against his own. Castiel could almost feel despair and rage radiate from Dean, but there was also something else. Something strong and raw – a need? A want? Something. Without knowing what he was doing, Castiel opened his mouth slightly and felt Deans tongue slid in immediately, tasting him, exploring him.
With amazement Castiel realized Dean tasted of whiskey and of something minty, like gum, and most of all he tasted of Dean – real and strong and wonderful.
Dean pressed even harder to him, his arms wrapped around the angel's waist, clinging to his back. His knowing and experienced mouth was making Castiel shiver and as Dean suddenly sucked on Cas' bottom lip, the angel let out a low moan making Dean growl in return. The hunter held the back of Cas' neck and deepened the kiss. He was slower now, less urgent, more about the sensations than about anger or anything else. And what sensations they were! Dean, despite the haze of alcohol marveled in the feeling Cas' kiss. It was sweet and fresh, but also full of desire and longing. Despite drinking, Cas still smelled and tasted of freshness and the feel of his tongue caressing Dean's made the hunter's knees buckle. Castiel surrender to this kiss completely. In amazement he realized he finally understood what emotional overload meant – the sensations he experienced were beyond words for him. Not only were they new – the simply rendered him speechless and powerless. It didn't matter that Cas was an angel. Quite the opposite – once again Castiel came to realize how much superior humans were if they were capable of feeling this and of making an angel feel it. All of the sudden it made a perfect sense – his bond to Dean, his dream, his constant confusion around him. It all led to this moment and this feeling rising in him.
Castiel moaned again and clutched to Dean even stronger, without realizing his fingers were leaving bruises on the hunter's body. Nothing mattered anymore – just Dean and the feeling of holding him. He realized why holding Emma felt wrong – she simply wasn't Dean.
Suddenly Dean broke the kiss and looked at Cas' eyes pleadingly.
"Don't leave Cas… Just… Don't leave."