"No…" Dean gapes at the figure in front of him. This couldn't be happening. Not him. Not Cas. The demon's eyebrows turn up and it frowns dramatically.
"What, you don't like my new look?" It asks, glancing down at the vessel. "I think fallen angel suits me pretty well." Dean's blood boils.
"You son of a bitch," he growls, raising his rifle out of habit.
"Now, Dean, I wouldn't do that if I were you," the demon instructs condescendingly. "Remember who dies if you shoot me?" It takes a step forward and Dean raises the gun higher. The demon only shakes its head, laughing, and inches closer until the barrel of the rifle is pressing into Cas' chest. Dean is frozen in place, knowing that he won't pull the trigger.
"Oh, Dean…" The demon strokes his cheek, wearing a Cas-like expression that makes his chest ache. But a second later, it's gone, replaced by a vicious grin as it reaches down and grabs the gun from his limp hands. "This is going to be so much fun." The butt of the rifle swings up and cracks into Dean's skull, making his world go dark.
When his eyes blink open, the first thing he sees is Cas, turned away from him, clad in his wrinkled trench coat. Dean almost smiles, not remembering what had happened. But the rough ropes that bite his wrists and ankles when he attempts to move jog his memory. Anger flares within him and he glances around, an ache pulsing through his head. Concrete walls surround him in a small, seemingly empty room and frayed, navy carpeting covers the floor. The tarnished metal chair he's strapped to is crudely bolted down. He focuses back on the figure in front of him and suddenly comes to a realization. This situation shouldn't be possible.
"How did you do it?" His voice comes out scratchy and swollen with suppressed rage. The demon turns around slowly.
"Oh, great, you're awake," it replies, smiling tauntingly and flicking its eyes black. Dean ignores it.
"How? Cas had protection."
"You mean this?" It reaches into the pocket of the trench coat draws out the anti-possession necklace, pinching the red string between its thumb and fore finger. "Looks like your angel is a bit forgetful." It says, smirking and pocketing the charm again. Dean's jaw clenches. God dammit, Cas! The demon chuckles lightly and steps to the side, revealing a small table up pressed up against the wall. On it is Dean's gun and flask of holy water, Ruby's knife, and the demon's own blade, which it picks up slowly.
"It's funny really," it says, fingers running gently along the edge, "how one tiny mistake can make such a huge difference." The demon strides towards Dean and bends down in front of him, placing a hand to his chest and smirking smugly. "But I'm not complaining." Dean struggles against the ropes as it saunters around him, hand sliding over his shirt.
"Why don't you just kill me, you son of a bitch?" he grunts through clenched teeth. He's answered with silence and, after a few moments, a blade pressing into his neck. The demon bends down, lips poised next to Dean's right ear.
"Oh, Dean," it whispers softly, in a voice Dean wishes he could find comfort it, "you'll be rotting in this chair soon enough. But all the fun comes before you die." The knife is quickly removed from his neck. "And I've barely started enjoying myself." The demon withdrawals and walks back towards the table.
"Do you know how rare a situation like this is? Torturing two souls for the price of one? Not to mention them being the notorious Dean Winchester and his rebellious little pet." Dean looks down at the floor, trying to focus on anything but the words, and it laughs cruelly.
"It's a one-in-a-lifetime deal and I intend to make the most of it."
Apparently, Dean doesn't give it the reaction it's looking for, because in a split second, the demon is in front of him once more, yanking his head up by his short, blood matted hair.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you, bitch!" Its face is contorted in anger and Dean returns the glare, swallowing hard and biting back his words, not wanting to give it the satisfaction of an answer. After a second, the demon exhales slowly, features forming a smile that's noticeably tighter than before.
It turns away, laughing softly, but then spins around, fist flying up and connecting with the side of Dean's head. And the blows keep coming, to his temple, his jaw, his chin, his neck. He can do nothing but sit there, fuming silently, arms and legs straining against the bindings as he swallows his cries, not wanting to gratify the demon with a reaction. A final fist to his stomach makes him groan and slump over, crimson blood dripping out of his mouth onto his jeans. His vision swims as the demon lifts his head again.
"Don't worry, that was almost as painful for your boyfriend." Dean doesn't have enough energy to fight his comment. Warm, fresh blood slides slowly down the side of his face as he struggles to hold his head up. When he speaks, the swelling of his jaw makes the words slur.
"He can see this?"
"Why, of course! You didn't think I wouldn't invite our dear little Cassie to the party, did you?" The demon smirks and walks away, returning its focus to the table.
"Speaking of party goers, did you ever wonder what happened to your brother?" Dean curses himself for forgetting about Sam.
"What did you do to him, you bastard?"
"Me? Oh, I did nothing. I don't know about now, but the last time I saw him, he was perfectly fine." A small wave of relief ripples through him. If he's survived this long, Sammy is surely strong enough to fight the rest of his way out. Using what little strength he has left, Dean raises his head.
"Then how-?"
"How did I make it sound like he was dying a slow, agonizing death?" He grimaces at the thought. "I'm allowed to have my secrets, aren't I?" The demon turns its attention away from the weapons, chuckling, and Dean averts his eyes.
"Now, back to your boyfriend, my personal favorite topic of the night…" He tries to keep his interest from peaking at the mention of Cas, not sure if he wants to hear what's coming next. "It is true that's he can hear, feel, and see everything that's happening. Like this." The demon strides over and smacks Dean across the face. "He knows that it's his hands doing it. But the best part is that I can hear, feel, and see everything going on inside of him, too. And do you want to know what he's thinking?" Dean clenches his jaw, set on not giving an answer. The demon's hand flies up and grasps his throat, fingers digging into the soft skin under his chin.
"Answer me, bitch!" When his vision starts to blacken, he nods reluctantly and is released. Sucking in air, he coughs violently, spewing more blood into his lap. But the demon's next words make his breath catch in his throat once again.
"He's thinking about how much he loves you. Well, really, how much he loved you." Dean can't help but glance up. Staring down at him is his Cas. Well, at least it looks like him enough to make his heart jump in his chest. But, slowly, he realizes that he may never truly see his Cas again.
"How did you not notice, Dean? All those looks. All those missed chances. It's sad, really, how oblivious you both were. I can even see how great your, what does he call it? Your 'profound bond' is?" Dean glares at him, not wanting to hear anything else about Cas from that black-eyed bastard. It only laughs.
"Anyways, it's such a tragedy, tearing you two apart before you get a chance to share these wonderful feelings. But I can't say that I'm not pleased to be in the middle of it." The demon starts pacing around the room and Dean hopes to God that it's finished. He doesn't know how much more of this he can take. Honestly, he'd rather it get back to the physical torture than keep talking.
"Of course, he doesn't love you anymore," it continues. "Not nearly. He hates you. I can-" It laughs, shaking its head slowly. "I can feel the anger boiling inside of him. It's perfectly delicious." Dean purses his lips, trying to block out the words. Demons do lie, right? This could all be made up. Cas might not even be awake right now. But deep down, Dean knows he's wrong.
"It's your fault, you know." The words that he hears far too often from his own mind grab his attention. "It's your fault that he's trapped in here. If only you hadn't run ahead of him in the halls, or if you'd checked to make sure he was wearing that charm, or if you'd let him stay back at the motel, or if you'd simply never met him at all, he'd be up with the rest of those feathery dicks living the holy life he's always dreamed of. He'd be happy." The demon smiles sadly and shrugs.
"Oh, well. The past is in the past. But the present… Now that's what I live for." Its grin grows wider and more menacing as it steps over to Dean, stooping down and grabbing his face, tilting it up and giving him no choice but to see the image of the man he loves staring back.
"He's trapped in here, you know, screaming, terrified. But, even after everything you've done, he still counts on you to save him." The demon glances away for a moment, as if he heard something. But the vicious grin returns seconds later.
"Oh, yes, Castiel, I read you loud and clear. Save me, Dean, he says. You're the reason I'm in here!" The demon mimics Cas' cries perfectly.
"This is your fault, so fix it!" It leans in closer, volume growing with every word.
"I trusted you and you betrayed me! You're leaving me to rot in here!" The screams echo off the walls.
"How could you? After everything I've done for you? Get me out of here! Save me, Dean! Help me! Save me!"
Finally, Dean snaps.
"Get out of him, you fucking bastard!" His strained voice rips through the room. The ropes rub his skin raw as he tugs against them, rage welling up inside. "If I ever get out of this chair, I will slaughter you!" Rage-filled tears spill and mix with the sweat and blood that has gathered on his face.
"Oh, Dean, you're so adorable when you're angry."
"Shut up, you son of a bitch."
"Really? More name calling? I thought we were past that."
Dean holds his tongue, fuming, not wanting to give the vexatious bitch any more fuel. It only smirks and picks up its knife. "Well, this has been fun, but…"
Trailing off, the demon walks over slowly, and Dean knows his life is almost over. He's going to die. He'll never see Sam again. He'll never be able to talk to his Cas again. He'll never get the chance to beg forgiveness for everything he's ever done to the people he loves, something he wishes he had done a long time ago. There are no more second chances for him. Not anymore. He's leaving Cas to succumb to the agonizing fate that he caused. At the last second, with the demon leering over him, he's almost glad to die now. Because if he ended up surviving and Cas didn't, he wouldn't be able to live with himself.
The knife is thrust towards him, and Dean awaits the blade sinking into his chest. But it doesn't come. Instead, it slides besides his wrist, severing the ropes. Dean is too shocked to move as the other bindings are released. The demon's pointed laugh snaps him out of his trance.
"Oh, Dean, you really thought I was finished with you." He's yanked up roughly by the arm and stumbles forward, the room spinning around him. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but the fun isn't over yet."
Dean steadies himself and puts a hand to his head, grimacing. The sudden movement kick starts its throbbing.
"Why the hell-"
"Would I let you out? It's quite simple." The demon turns away, placing its knife back on the table top. "It's time for you to fight back." Dean just stares at it, confused. Was it really giving him a chance to get out of this?
"Fight back?" he asked skeptically. The demon sighs and spins around, facing him.
"You know, throw a few punches and let off some steam before I kill you?" There's a pause.
"What if- what if I win?" Dean remarks, crossing his arms. It laughs lightly.
"Oh, I'm confident that you won't…" He shakes his head, smirking halfheartedly, and ignores the comment.
"What in hell makes you think that I-"
The demon flings out its arm and Dean flies backwards, slamming into the concrete wall and crumpling to the floor. He groans, pushing himself off of the ground with trembling arms and collapses backwards. A fresh wave of blood has started trickling down his face and he wipes it away with his arm, shutting his eyes. The only thing he can think about is how badly he wants to give up. His body aches all over and parts of his face have gone numb. Hearing footsteps, Dean hoists himself up, knowing the demon won't let him quit.
"Are you ready to do as you're told?"
"Please, just-" Its palm smacks him across his face and he stumbles back into the wall. Rage and instinct boil up inside of him and he spins back around, fist raised and ready to strike. But when he peers down at the figure in front of him, he doesn't see the manipulative bastard that's inside. He just sees Cas. Sure, he's wanted to punch the guy on multiple occasions but now… His fist releases slowly and falls to the side, anger draining out of him.
"Well, well, well Mr. Winchester, I am thoroughly disappointed." Dean averts his eyes, trying to keep the rage at bay. "For such a 'great' hunter, you sure are weak. Oh, but what would your dear ol' dad say?" His spine reflexively straightens at the mention of John.
"The infamous John Winchester, yeah I know him." It continues, smirking. "Well, I know of him, at least. It's quite the legend. He raised his boys like soldiers, taking them on the road, teaching them to fight. After all he did for you, all he taught you, this is how you repay him? By cowering to a demon?" Dean grits his teeth and looks up, eyes shooting daggers. "Because that's what you are, Dean. A coward. Sure, you've gotten lucky on a few occasions, but in the end you don't deliver. You're really all bark and no-"
Dean's fist flies up and bashes the demon across the face. The body stumbles backwards but quickly straightens up, laughing.
"There we go," it sneers as blood drips out of its nose. But Dean doesn't hear. He cries out in fury and swings again, connecting with its jaw and knocking it back against the wall behind them. Pummeling in on the figure, he tries to push thoughts about Cas out of his mind. But they slowly creep back in. When the punches slow and hit halfheartedly, the demon shoves him off. He's knocked back into the metal chair and kicked him brutally in the ribs. Dean falls to the floor, doubled over, clutching his chest.
"Maybe you're not as weak as I thought…" the demon comments absentmindedly. It stoops and flips him onto his back, smirking.
"Oh, Dean, I think your boyfriend has a few parting gifts for you before you die." Before he can even wonder what that means, the demon stand up and kicks him hard in the stomach.
"This is for dragging him here today." Its foot connects again, making Dean gasp and cough up blood.
"This is for getting him kicked out of the only home he's ever known." The next kick hits his ribs and something cracks, sending waves of pain up his chest.
"This is for trailing him around like your slave and blaming him for everything that goes wrong." A strike to stomach the makes him groan and shut his eyes tightly.
"And this…" The demon kicks him three times, in quick succession, and continues. "This is for never realizing that everything he did, abandoning his home, his family, and risking his life every single day, it was all for you." A final blow hits hard in the soft spot between his ribs.
Finally, the demon walks away, chuckling to itself. Dean's body aches for the air that's been knocked out of it and his chest feels like it's about to collapse. But the demon's words hurt him more. A few tears rolls down his face, pooling on the ground, because he believes that everything it said is true. Cas gave up everything for him, and this is how he is repaying him. By leaving him to die at the hands of a demon. Dean knows that he deserves every hit he's taken in this room, and so many more. Opening his eyes slowly, he sees sneakers standing in front of him, and is dragged up roughly by the arm.
"Is there anything else you want to say?" the demon asks. He just shakes his head, struggling to stand on his own. "Then I have no more use for you." It flicks its wrist and Dean flies backwards into the wall again. But instead of collapsing like before, he sticks to the concrete is lifted a few feet off the ground. The demons strides over to him, smirking.
"Like I said earlier, it's been fun. But sadly, all things must come to an end." Its fingers start to clench, causing Dean's throat constrict, and panic sets in. He gasps for air and strains weakly against the hold, face reddening as the demon continues.
"Again, thanks for the free meat suit. Ones as good as this are extremely hard to find." It grins maliciously, twisting its fist tighter, and Dean's throat closes off completely. As his vision starts to blacken, he stops fighting, realizing there is no escaping this fate.
Suddenly, the sound of splintering wood cracks through the room, followed by a deafening bang. With the little strength he has left, he glances towards the noise and sees Sam's figure filling the doorway.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas…" The demon flinches and its grasp on Dean is momentarily released. And he's ready when it does.
A fresh wave of adrenalin floods him as he charges the demon, knocking them both backwards. It crashes into the wall, flailing violently as the exorcism continues. While holding the body down, Dean grabs the anti-possession charm out of the trench coat pocket and works the string around its neck. The demon cries out, arching its back and kicking the table beside them. The weapons clatter to the floor. Dean snatches his flask before it slides too far and unscrews the cap with one hand, dumping the water onto the face beneath him. The liquid sizzles and smokes as the demon hisses, trying to shove his body off. But, somehow, Dean is stronger.
"…te rogamus, audi nos!" The figure underneath him tenses up and cries out as thick, black smoke is shoots from its mouth, collecting in the air. It swirls around for a moment, then slowly sinks into the floor. Finally, there is silence.
Dean collapses against the wall, breathing hard as the ache settles back into his body. But after a few moments, he feels like something is wrong and glances back down at the floor. Cas is lying there, eyes closer, face bloody and unresponsive. Panic claws at Dean's stomach. Pressing two fingers to Cas' neck, he feels a faint pulse, but realizes that his chest is still.
"No, no, no…" he mutters to himself, lifting the man's head into his arms.
"Sam, come 'ere, he's not breathing!" he yells. But the other hunter is already kneeling down next to him, unnoticed.
"Dean, calm down, just-"
"God dammit, Cas, wake up!" Hot tears spill over his cheeks as he shakes the body in his arms, dread settling over him.
Suddenly, Cas' eyes snap open and he gasps for breath. Dean stares in shock as he sits up, coughing violently.
"C-Cas?" The man slowly glances around as his chest heaves. When his eyes settle on the person beside him, his face fills with sorrow.
"Dean… Oh god, Dean, I'm so sorry," he chokes out, before falling into the hunter's arms. Dean clutches him, pulling his angel closer, as if he would disappear at any moment. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and rests his chin on Cas' shoulder, letting a calm settle over him.
"S'okay, Cas, I got you," he croons softly when he feels the body shaking in his arms. "It's over now. You're safe."
During all of this, Sam watches, standing a few feet away and having no clue about what had happened. After a few moments, Cas pulls away, taking in Dean's injuries. He touches his swollen jaw tenderly and Dean grimaces.
"Dean, I'm so sorry I-"
"Cas, don' worry about it, I'm fine," he replies, smiling weakly. "Let's just get outta here before…" He tries to get up on his own but stumbles, falling into the wall and letting out a groan. Cas rushes to scoop him back up, wrapping one arm around his waist. "Before those sons 'a bitches come back." Cas nods and, after Sam grabs the weapons that had spilled onto the floor, they make their way out of the room.
Dean insists that he's alright as the trio makes their way out of the building and back to the Impala. But the state of him says otherwise. His light brown hair is crusted with dried blood and matted down, parts of his face are already turning black and blue, and his jaw is red and swollen. He staggers as they walk, keeping one arm around Cas the whole time, and finally accepts both of their help when he almost trips over a loose floor tile. When they reach the Impala, he doesn't even put up a fight and collapses into the back seat, letting Sam drive. Cas slides in next to the injured hunter without hesitation.
On the way home, Sam doesn't dare ask what happened. The men look thoroughly beat up and completely dazed in the rear-view mirror. Whatever had gone on, it must have been hell for them both. He'd ask later, when he got one of them alone.
Within minutes of starting the car, Dean passes out from exhaustion, leaning heavily against Cas, who's squeezed up against the door. But Cas doesn't object. He just stares out the window, trying not to dwell on the fact that he caused all this. How could he have been so stupid? His mistake had almost killed the one thing he cares about most in the world. Closing his eyes and leaning against the window, he tries to block out everything but the feeling of Dean's head on his shoulder.
Back at the hotel, Sam goes in first, distracting anyone who is in the lobby. This gives Cas enough time to help Dean up the their room unseen. There, the three men settle in quickly. Dean confines himself to the couch after allowing Sam to clean him up and sleeps through most of the day. Cas takes a seat at the kitchen table, staying quiet and offering up no explanation as to what had gone on earlier. Sam sits across from him and eventually explains how he took care of the demons on the ground floor pretty easily and spent the rest time searching for them, only discovering their location when he heard shouts coming from one of the old storage rooms in the basement. When Cas simply nods in reply, he pauses, hesitant to finally ask the question that's been bugging him for hours.
"Cas, what happened back there?" He fidgets in his chair for a moment before answering.
"I-I was possessed."
"Yeah, I kinda figured, but how? You had the charm!"
"I forgot to put it on," he mumbles.
"Oh…" There was a long pause before Cas spoke again, his voice hoarse and raw with emotion.
"I tortured him, Sam… I was awake and I saw and I couldn't stop it. The demon used me, my thoughts and my feelings, against him and made me do horrible things." His eyes burn with tears and he swallows hard before continuing. "I would have killed him if it weren't for you."
"Cas, I-I'm so sorry."
"Don't apologize to me, Sam." He takes a shaky breath. "It was my fault."
"But-"
"If it's okay with you, I'd rather not talk about this anymore."
"Oh… Yeah, okay. That's fine." After a few seconds of silence, Sam flips open his laptop reluctantly, settling in for a long evening of mindless research.
Later in the evening, Dean wakes up and staggers into the kitchen, grabbing a beer. When Sam notices that his swelling has gone down quite a bit, he attempts to make small talk.
"How you feeling?"
"Fan-friggin'-tastic, Sammy," he replies sarcastically, slamming the refrigerator door. The conversation is quickly abandoned.
Cas and Dean's eyes meet for only a moment after that. They both know there's no ignoring what had happened. That would be impossible. But neither one makes a move to discuss it. Hours pass in silence and, finally, Cas can't wait any longer.
"Can I talk to you?" Cas' voice pulls Dean back to the present. He'd been slouching on the couch, staring off into space for who know how long.
"What's up?" Cas sits down beside him, his face illuminated by the glow of the T.V. screen, and looks down at his hands.
"I'm-I'm sorry for today… I should have listened to you and put the charm on as soon as you handed it to me."
"Cas, don't apologize," he replies, smiling weakly. "You made a mistake, which sucks, but it's over now."
"But-"
"You said it yourself," he continues, hesitatingly, not wanting to dwell on the events of the day, "it was my fault, not yours. You have the right to hate me." Glancing at Cas, he sees the man frowning at him, displeased.
"Not everything the demon said is true, Dean..."
Silence fills the space between their gaze and Dean swallows hard. He's desperate to know about the other things that had been revealed that day, but can't bring himself to ask. And even if he did work up enough courage, how would he react? What would he say if Cas really did love him? The silence is broken when Sam pops his head into the room.
"I, uh…" He pauses, seeing that he interrupted something. "I'm gonna go to bed, guys."
"'Night, Sammy," Dean replies, thankful for the interruption. Sam smiles slightly and nods his head, leaving them alone once more.
After a moment, Dean speaks up, trying to brush off the rest of the conversation.
"Anyways, it was my fault, whether you think so or not, and I'm sorry." Crossing his arms, he leans back into the couch, wishing the conversation would end. But he realizes that he has so much more to say.
"I shoulda known better than to make you hunt today. It was a dick move of me. And-and then I couldn't even save you when I screwed it up!" He laughs uncomfortably, running his hands through his hair as the self-hatred rises up again.
"If Sam hadn't shown… I mean, we woulda been goners."
Cas gazes down at him sadly, wishing Dean would think better of himself. But, of course, he doesn't, and finds himself rambling on.
"I know what that bastard said, about me tearing you away from your home and never realizing how much you did for me, I know that's true. And I'm sorry. I am so friggin' sorry. I would take it all back if I could. Today and every other god damn time that I've hurt you. I almost-"
"I wouldn't." Dean glances up at the man sitting beside him. "I'm happier here, now, with you, than I ever was before. Dean, I don't regret any of it." He stares up at his angel, a smile playing at his lips, and absentmindedly mutters the last thing he had wanted to say.
"I almost wish it had killed me before it got to you, ya know? So you could've had a chance to get out of there." Suddenly, Cas' face lights up with anger.
"How can you have so little self-worth?" he snaps. Dean silences himself and retreats back into his shell, annoyed. He's grown tired of people trying to counsel him about this.
"God dammit, I'm not talking about this. Can we just drop it?"
"No, we can't." Cas moves towards him but he turns away.
"I didn't-"
"And don't try to convince me that I got the worst of what happened today, because you and I both know that's not true." Jaw clenched, he shakes his head, trying to block out the words.
"Dean, please…" Cas reaches out and grabs his arm, and Dean's breath catches in his throat. His body relaxes at the touch and something shifts. Sure, he and Cas have touched many times before, but this time it feels different. And as cheesy as it sounds, Dean has to admit that something clicks. Anger and annoyance gone, he glances up, returning the gaze.
"You've been through more in the past few years than any man should go through in a lifetime," Cas continues softly. "I know that stubbornness is a prevalent part of your personality, but you have to acknowledge that you need help. You're… you're broken. If-"
"Then fix me," he interrupts without thinking. Cas furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head, slightly confused at the sudden interjection. But instead of explaining, Dean leans forward, grabbing Cas and pulling him closer. Their lips press together roughly and Dean runs his hands down his arms and to his waist, holding him lightly. But the chaste kiss quickly turns into something more. Dean tugs at the hem of Cas' shirt, inching him further into his embrace, and searches his mouth with his tongue.
"I said fix me, Cas," he murmurs as he trails his lips along Cas' jaw and down his neck, something he's only dreamed of doing. "Fix me, help me, do whatever you want to me," he mutters absentmindedly between kisses. When Cas only nods, Dean glances up, seeing him staring, wide-eyed and nervous.
Suddenly, Dean regrets everything he just did and draws away quickly.
"I'm sorry, I thought-"
"N-no, Dean, I just… I'm not exactly sure how to do this…" He breathes a small sigh of relief and grins.
"That's okay. That's totally fine." He leans forward and kisses him again, sliding his hand under the shirt and along the soft skin of his lower back. "Just relax." Stubble scratches against his cheek as he kisses the man's face hungrily.
"I need you, Cas," he whispers, pulling his angel closer and running a free hand through his hair. "I don't know what I'd do without you." Cas smiles softly and relaxes, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck and finally kissing back.
A few hours later, Dean's bloody and beaten face jolts Cas awake. He untangles himself from the other man's arms and sits up, trembling violently. No matter how much he'd been trying to block out about that day, the memories flood his thoughts every time his eyes close. Dean's body shifts around on the couch, and, noticing the empty cushions beside him, he opens his eyes.
"Cas, you okay?" he asks, worry and sleep laced through his voice. When Cas doesn't reply, he sits up, concerned, and wraps an arm around him. Feeling his body trembling, he draws the man in closer.
"Bad dream?" Cas nods slowly. "Don't worry, I won't let those monsters get to you anymore. I promise." The truth in those words make him smile ever so slightly. Dean kisses the side of his head.
"It's okay, baby," he purrs, guiding Cas back down so that he's lying next to him. "I got you. I'm here." Dean rubs his back softly and the shaking subsides. But after a few minutes, Cas is still tense, fidgeting every few seconds.
Pulling him closer, he rests his chin on top of Cas' head and starts to hum "Hey, Jude", a tune he's been familiar with all his life. He starts singing lightly when he gets to the third verse.
"And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain, don't carry the world upon your shoulders…" With that, Cas smiles and nuzzles up against his bare chest. By the end of the song, they are both nearly asleep.
"Dean?" Cas' sleepy and childlike voice makes Dean smile to himself.
"Mm hm?"
"I do…" He trails off, yawning silently and snuggling into his side. "I do love you. That part is true." Warmth spreads through Dean's body and his smile grows wider. He doesn't even attempt to fight the "chick flick" moment that's been created.
"I love you too," he answers after a moment, holding Cas closer. But the fallen angel is already fast asleep with a smile on his face, because he doesn't need to hear Dean's reply. He already knows.
As Dean drifts off to sleep, he doesn't think about the scars that were left by the events that took place. He doesn't worry about what will happen in a day, a week, a month, or even a year from now because of it and he doesn't care that Sam will find them lying together in the next morning. The only thought that fills his mind is how right it feels to have Cas in his arms. And, even after everything that happened that day, Dean's happier than he has been in a very long time.
A/N: The end! Hope you all enjoyed the story! It was super fun to write. If you're looks for another short Destiel story, check out my first fic called "He Loves Me Not." Thanks for reading!