Chapter 7: You are the Moon
Castiel hates the silence sometimes. There was no more "angel-radio" as Dean liked to call it. Most of all though, he missed being able to hear Dean's prayers. The moments that cut him to his core. Even when he couldn't answer, there was a safety in hearing them.
Sometimes it meant that Dean was ok. That was enough for Cas. He knew better than to worry that some simple hunt, like laying a ghost to rest, would claim Dean's life. He worried anyway. Dean's prayers were like mini-updates. Sometimes Dean would just talk, he might make some jokes, and sometimes he'd just say "Cas" over and over again.
Castiel liked hearing his name. He preferred Cas to Castiel anyway. Sometimes, Dean would pour out his soul in his prayers, usually when he thought Castiel wasn't listening. These were Castiel's favorite prayers. He knew they were bait, Dean was dangling his soul in front of Castiel, hoping to get a response. It almost always worked, and Castiel would abandon whatever he was doing to answer Dean.
Purgatory had been the worst. Dean prayed every night, with such urgency. It killed Cas to stay away. It nearly broke him.
Now the night was silent. There would be no silent plead from Dean, begging Castiel to come home. Castiel feels the sudden uncertainty bearing down on himself. He has no idea what Dean is doing right now. Castiel can't help but feel a twinge of guilt, realizing this is how Dean felt usually. In fact, Castiel has made Dean feel this fairly often before.
Castiel tries to imagine what Dean is doing. Dean might be in his room, pacing. Probably doing more than pacing, he probably has punched a door or two at some point. Castiel entertains the idea for a moment that Dean might be looking for him. No, he definitely wouldn't. Castiel contemplates returning, and steals a glance at his watch. It is 7:23, and the poorly lit street didn't leave much to be desired. Castiel's legs are tired, and his eyes sting. He had tried running for a while, because he needed to be actively doing something to escape. He wishes for the millionth time that he still had his angel powers.
Instead, he was stuck here. He has no idea how to drive a car, and so he can only run. His breathing has slowed, and his bare feet are sore. The pain had been a welcome distraction, as he pushes himself to a near breaking point. Bitterly, Castiel looks down at his hands and shakes his head.
"The body fits the mind" he says out loud, wanting to hear something more than the silence. It was dark, and Castiel's fears had begun to seep into his mind. He had left his anger somewhere on the road behind him, and now he just felt empty.
Castiel stops running, and drops to his knees on the pavement. Breathing in and out slowly, he tries to refrain from praying. It is the last thing he wants to succumb to. He stands slowly, running his hands through his hair and sighing. Along with the fear of the impending darkness, the guilt was beginning to build to immeasurable heights. Cas knows he can be stubborn and difficult, and that Dean is the same way. They seemed to constantly collide like charged particles that couldn't stay away from each other. Cas feels a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He hopes Dean can see it that way and forgive him.
Castiel steps into the Winchester lair and is surprised to see that most of the lights are still on. Everything is just how it was when he had left, several hours earlier. It had taken a while to walk back, now that he was too tired to run. It seemed that human bodies could do a lot when they were charged with emotions, but now he almost felt too drained to do more than walk slowly. He had noticed his feet were throbbing as well, and slightly cut up. It was more of an annoyance than anything else, but it hadn't helped him get home any faster once he had decided to come back.
Castiel takes a deep breath and ascends the stairs, hoping to make enough noise to not startle Dean. He notices the light is still on in Dean's room, so he figures now is better than later. He knocks quietly, his knuckle rapping lightly twice on the wooden door. There is no answer.
Dean must be really mad, he figures. He purses his lips a little bit, wondering if he should just walk in anyway. It would be rude, but he hates to leave words unsaid. And right now, he was feeling so low that it probably wouldn't change anything to have Dean yell at him; at least he would be feeling something. Uncertainty was something he hated, especially now when everything else in his life has been flipped upside down.
His hands grip the doornob, and turn it slowly. Still no word from Dean. Cas takes this as a good sign (hopefully), so he walks in hesitantly.
Dean has his back turned, and is folding a pile of clothing that is dumped out on the bed. He doesn't turn to look at Castiel, but he gruffly says, "If you come in, I swear to god, I will punch you in the face. I mean it Cas".
Castiel flinches slightly, but doesn't stop. He closes the door behind him and steps closer to Dean, who is folding a shirt. Castiel's eyes flick towards the bandage on Dean's knuckles, and he can feel his heart sink. His eyes scan over Dean's body, which is held rigid and stiff. His hair is wet and sticking out in all directions. Cas notes that Dean also has let his hair grow out a little more. His anger towards Dean has all evaporated, replaced entirely by guilt and remorse. Watching Dean fold clothes quietly into two piles, Cas longs to reach out, to help.
"You can punch me if you would like," Cas says, hoping that Dean doesn't really take him up on it, but also accepting that this would be a satisfactory way to set things right.
Dean turns quickly, his eyes sparking with fire for a moment before becoming saddened and soft. His hands tighten around the shirt he is holding.
"I don't want to punch you Cas" he says, clearly. His voice is unwavering and honest. Castiel almost believes him, but there is still a fire simmering beneath the sadness, and he is waiting for the words to come out. Cas frowns at Dean and turns his head a little to the side, trying to understand what it is that Dean wants him to do.
"I can leave you alone right now" Cas says, deciding that maybe it would just be best to leave this for the morning.
Dean throws down the shirt in his hands and looks at Castiel. The anger has resurfaced, and his mouth is in a hard line, the one he gets when he is so serious, that it is almost hard to imagine that this mouth had ever known how to smile. Castiel hates this look, the one that reminds him of how broken Dean has been, and how broken he still is. Dean's eyes lock with Castiel's, and Dean narrows his eyes.
"Dammit Cas, that is the problem." He takes Castiel by surprise, putting one hand on Castiel's shoulder and pushing him backwards into the wall. Castiel notes that the door beside him has several new dents in it, dents the size of Dean's first. Castiel recoils into the wall, squinting his eyes and hoping that Dean doesn't hit him too hard. Healing as a human was an annoyance.
Dean holds him there and his eyes travel up Castiel's body, meeting at the eyes.
"I'm not going to hit you Cas" he says sadly, "I'm not like that". Dean's eyes cloud over, a dark memory, before returning to their passionate anger. Castiel's mind races, trying to focus on the present. He's seen Dean's past, he knows that Dean won't hurt him. He knows why the thought hurts Dean, but he can barely focus on anything besides the touch of Dean's firm hand on his shoulder. Their proximity is close, and Castiel can smell Dean's familiar body wash and deodorant. He mentally kicks himself for letting his mind wander to such superfluous thoughts. He brings his eyes to meet Dean's again.
Dean's face hardens again, his hands digging into Castiel's shoulder, pushing him harder against the bedroom wall. Castiel braces himself, the cutting words that would come next, because he knew this expression. The tight mouth, clenches jaw, and unforgiving eyes.
"I will tell you this Cas, the next time you walk out, that better be the last time I see your face" he finally says, grimly.
"I've done more for you than anyone besides Sammy, and you don't even know the half of it. So I do mean it when I say, if you turn your back on me again, then we are done. I'm done with people walking out on me; I don't need it." Dean's lips quiver slightly, showing only the smallest weakness in his snarl.
Castiel's eyes start to mist, and here they are again, the great expanse between them. Castiel has broken Dean's trust over and over, and they can't manage to keep things mended. Castiel wonders briefly why he keeps returning like a moth to a flame. Why the man who is his light, is also the one who makes him feel the darkness, and why he does the same thing in return. Everything he had done in the past was for Dean, everything.
Castiel looks at Dean, the bandaged knuckles on his right hand, and the way Dean's shirt clings to his body snugly ; lifting on one side to expose Dean's hip bone. Dean's arm outstretched, still pinning Castiel against the wall. Castiel takes a deep breath, and places one hand softly on the small patch of exposed skin.
Dean flinches slightly, but doesn't pull back. They look at each other, imploring.
Castiel says softly, "I've done much for you too Dean, please understand that. I won't walk out on you, I promise, I won't". His voice shakes a little bit at the end, but he is sincere. Dean's fingers clutch more tightly on Castiel's shoulder, pulling at the fabric as he steps closer. Castiel can almost see his reflection in Dean's eyes, which are wide and noticeably focused on Castiel's lips. Castiel's heart is beating furiously in his chest and he hopes that Dean can't hear it. They are so close again, and all anger has gone from Dean's eyes. They were pushing and pulling at each other, the perpetual motion that they always found themselves in. Dean's outstretched arm is pushing Castiel against the wall, and Castiel's hand is pulling Dean closer.
Castiel lets his fingers close around Dean's hip more tightly, and he swallows the longing in his mind. Dean's skin is soft, cold, but so much softer than Castiel would have imagined. Dean's beauty is so calm and clear, a light in the storm, and Castiel starts to only slightly understand the feelings that he has been so confused about. His eyes travel from Dean's hips, to his eyes, and back down towards the lips that were so perfectly contoured. A moment passes between them, the electrical current that was always there, and Castiel can feel gravity's pull.
A door slams, keys are heard being thrown against a table. Dean inhales sharply and pulls quickly away from Castiel. His eyes are now on the ground as he refuses to look at Castiel.
"Sam's home" Dean says quietly, opening the door to his room. He leaves Castiel standing in a pit of confusion. He looks at his hands which are shaking slightly, and then at his feet which are still cut up and dirty. He presses his hands together, and inhales, then exhales. He doesn't really feel like talking to Sam at the moment, so he figures he should try to jump into the shower before he gets pulled into a conversation.
Looking around at Dean's room again, he notices that Dean has washed most of the dirty clothing from Castiel's room. He smiles a little bit before walking out as quietly as he can towards the bathroom.
When Castiel goes to open the door, it is locked and he notices the light on beneath the door. He sighs and pouts slightly. Dean had apparently had the same idea to avoid Sam.