AN: I hope everyone's happy about the update - I haven't done a destiel oneshot in almost a month and I chose to do this instead! Just teasing - I've actually had a good portion of this chapter done for a bit because *finally* something *good* gets to happen. Enjoy ;)
From his parents' place to Dean's, it's a good 6 hour drive.
He makes it in four and a half. It's Christmas Eve, middle of the night, no one's driving anywhere. Even the cops seem to have neglected to come out and catch drunk drivers and speeders (though thankfully he only falls into one of those categories).
When Cas pulls into the driveway and lets himself into the garage with his key, he's surprised to find the Impala gone. Disappointment spreads through him but then he remembers that, duh, it's Christmas. Dean spent Thanksgiving with Sam's family and with no one to keep him here for the holidays, it only makes sense he'd leave.
His shoulders sag as he wanders into the kitchen, wondering what to do with himself. How long will Dean be gone? Surely not more than a few days... unless he thinks there's no reason to come back. That Cas won't be there, and if he's taking it badly maybe he'll stay where his brother's support is readily available.
Turning on the light, he freezes.
Dean is something of a neat freak. Not terrible about it, but he takes pride in his home and space, which means keeping things if not pristine than at least orderly. Which is why Cas' concern grows by leaps and bounds as his eyes wander over empty beer cans and liquor bottles that litter the table, counter tops, and even a few places on the floor.
So he's been drinking, and it's my fault.
He kicks the nearest bear bottle in some mix of frustration and guilt because he did this. Fuck, there's a lot of alcohol here. In the entire time he's been living with Dean, he's only seen the older man get drunk once, maybe twice. And here's a whole liquor store full of booze, all of it empty.
Worse yet, he sees papers underneath an empty six pack on the kitchen table. Mind numb, he pushes it aside so he can get a better look. A map, news articles printed from a website, and notes jotted hastily on a post-it in Dean's handwriting.
Vamp nest
North Dakota
10-15 vamps?
5 reported deaths
contact Sheriff Rollings
Oh god, what if that's where Dean is now? If in a drunken haze he'd planned out a seriously dangerous hunt to take his mind off of Cas being an asshole. Before he can start to hyperventilate, he tries to find a thread of reason to hold onto to keep his panic at bay.
No, Dean wouldn't have gone on that hunt. Not without his notes. No, he's just planning it. He wouldn't go before Christmas, before seeing Sam and his sister-in-law and niece. He's safe. He has to be.
Still feeling a little sick, Castiel moves through the house in a daze. He finds himself in Dean's room. The bed unmade, laundry on the floor, it doesn't look at all the way he last saw it. All of a sudden a wave of exhaustion makes him want to get into bed and never crawl back out again.
He leans down to grab one of Dean's sweatshirts and pulls it on as he climbs into bed. Dean's in Wyoming, there's no reason not to indulge in this. To wrap himself in his scent and let it comfort him as he drifts off to sleep.
Which is of course where he is when Dean finds him a few hours later.
He's being shaken awake and it takes him too long to realize there shouldn't be anyone else here. With a start he nearly falls out of the bed, cursing himself because hunters don't let people sneak up on them!
"Jesus, kid, calm down. It's just me!"
"Dean?" he gasps, looking up in the dim glow of the alarm clock. Yes, definitely Dean. And definitely not in Wyoming with Sam. He stares at him in shock for long enough that Dean coughs and gestures for him to follow.
"Let's go downstairs and talk."
Dean's out the door before he can process the request. He rushes to his feet and follows him to the kitchen. Neutral territory, he supposes, and probably a good idea.
The evidence of Dean's drinking is still everywhere and Cas can't help but stare at it. Looking at it now, it seems obvious that Dean didn't leave. There's too much for him to have drank it all before going on a road trip.
Seeming to notice the way his thoughts are tending, Dean interrupts by sheepishly starting to clean up. "I uh- I wasn't expecting you back so soon..."
"Were you?" A pause. "Expecting me back?"
A deep breath. "No, not really."
It stings a little to hear it, but he shouldn't be surprised. He'd left without word and has a track record of disappearing on Dean. Guilt wants to choke him, babble out apologies and beg for forgiveness, but there things that they need to talk about first.
"I realize now that I didn't do a good job of articulating exactly what the problem is."
"No," Dean agrees. "No you did not." He's finished dumping the cans and bottles in the recycling bin and takes a seat at the table, carefully putting the case notes into a folder. He gestures towards the empty seat next to him, an invitation not just to sit down but to go ahead and voice his concerns.
Grateful to be given the chance, he quickly takes a seat. There's no dancing around it, no easy way into it, so he just cuts to the heart of the matter. "I guess I'm just worried if you- if you care about me. Me me. Thomas me." He pauses a second. "And Castiel me, too. But both of us, equally, for who we each are apart and together. Because if you just want me to replace Cas, I- I can't do that."
Dean stares at him blankly. He doesn't react, doesn't blink, might not even breathe. Just as he's starting to become concerned, Dean's face breaks into a smile and he starts laughing. Outright laughing to the point where he's about to double over. "Oh man, I- I gotta say, that's a fucking relief." He chuckles a bit more, tries to get it under control before continuing. "I thought it was gonna be something more serious."
"Dean!" He's on the edge of being extremely mad, he can feel it building up in his chest. "This is serious! This is this is important to me, I can't believe you'd-"
"Whoa whoa, hold your horses, kid." The laughter's died down, though the amusement's still lighting up his eyes. It's beautiful, actually, but he's angry enough that he ignores the thought. Dean schools his face into something much more serious. "Let me talk for a minute, okay?"
He huffs a bit at being called "kid" but lets it slide when he realizes he is actually pouting. Yeah, so maybe there's something to that right now.
"I uh- I went through some stuff, back when Cas disappeared. Obviously."
Dean's too lost in himself, in those years long gone, to notice the way he winces at hearing that. Castiel knew when he tore out his grace that it would leave questions unanswered for the Winchesters. He just didn't anticipate how profoundly affected Dean would be.
"But I dealt with it. Eventually, anyway. I always... Maybe I always kinda thought he might come back. But I'm not gonna lie. I... didn't really have much hope left. Yeah, there was some, but... I'd made my peace with Cas being gone a long time ago." He lets out this ghost of a laugh. "Then you knocked on my door and kinda blew that outta the water."
Dean pauses, like he expects Cas to say something. He doesn't, so Dean just continues.
"You- You seemed like Cas. But not? I don't really know how to describe it. And then you said you weren't Cas, so I just..." He shrugs. "So I didn't think of you as Cas. You were Thomas, the kid who taught himself to hunt and who likes to cook and who's actually not bad at fixing a car, once you know what you're doing."
He smiles fondly, which is strange. That's a smile he's seen before. The one saved for when Dean would tell stories about Castiel, reminisce about his lost friend. Not one for Thomas.
Finally, Dean looks him in the eyes. Holds his gaze as he says, "I felt something for you, and it took me a while to figure out it wasn't related to you maybe being Cas. You have any fucking idea how guilty I felt about that? The first time I'd actually truly thought about moving on with someone else, permanently, since Cas disappeared?"
His heart is beating too quickly, especially since it feels like his blood has stopped flowing altogether. Dean... cares about him
"And then you go and tell me, 'Oh, never mind Dean. Cute, adorkable Thomas? Nope, he's gone. Totally Cas.' And then you tell me after that, 'Wait no, definitely Thomas. Forget Cas.' And you left, dude. Talk about some emotional fucking whiplash."
Dean sighs heavily. He runs his hands roughly through his hair. "I- I guess what I mean is, I love you. I love Castiel, Angel of the Lord. I love Thomas, kid from Iowa. I would probably fall in love with each and every version of you that would ever be born. Guy, girl, a fucking porcupine, probably. Whatever."
Thomas is speechless. Cas is speechless. There is nothing but mutual awe that this man could love -him- them individually, together, in any way, shape, or form he was allowed to. He barely hears what Dean says next.
"But that's me. I thought maybe... But then you left and- And I guess I'm wondering if this is about me or- Or maybe about who I used to be. I'm not the same person I was-"
"Dean-"
"I'm not. The fact that we're even having this conversation proves that I'm not. So if you're looking for the Dean Winchester who got pulled outta hell and spent years chasing his brother around to keep him out of trouble... that's not me anymore."
It takes him probably longer than it should to digest everything Dean's just said. To fully comprehend that he's not alone in his insecurities and fears. He's quiet so long that he starts to notice Dean shutting down more and more before his eyes. Well, he'll have to fix that.
"You think because you're older, because you've changed... that if I notice you've changed, I might not like it? That I might lose interest because you're not the man you once were?"
Dean's barely perceptible nod is the only indication that he's even listening.
He gets up, kneels in front of Dean. Carefully, he cradles Dean's face in both hands. Rubs a thumb along his cheek and sees eyes struggling to hold back tears. It very much reminds him of a barn many years ago and a man who didn't believe he deserved to be saved. "I would love you in any form I could ever take. Guy, girl, or porcupine."
And then they're kissing, and it almost feels like it's the first time. They're on the same page at last, both all here and accounted for. Their lips move together and it's heaven, everything he's ever wanted even before he knew he wanted it. When they pull back, he can feel the stupid grin on his face.
"You love me, Cas?"
The mood has shifted from the heavy, somberness of earlier. Enough that he feels he can tease Dean. "I might."
"You love me, Thomas?"
"I might."
Castiel remembers quite vividly the beauty of Dean's soul. It lit Hell up so brightly, called to him from across the battlefield. All of Hell's efforts to tarnish it had nothing but dim it somewhat, something he didn't learn until months later when the pain of his time there started to fade. It's a silent regret of his, the only regret he truly has about no longer being an angel, that he will never see that soul in all its majesty ever again.
The smile lighting up Dean's face at that moment is a thousand times more beautiful.
And it's his.
AN: This is technically the last chapter. I'll be writing a timestamp for dean's time without cas/thomas and a mini-epilogue. Depending on how long those end up being, they may be posted together. We'll see :) Thanks for sticking with me through this story (though I know not done posting, still wanted to say it!) - thanks for reading, commenting, leaving kudos, all of it. I really appreciate it! 3