Chapter Fourteen
Dean was gradually realising that Castiel might never fall in love with him.
They had been living together for over a month, but it felt more like co-existing than an actual relationship. They wore the rings, but Dean had just been deluding himself into thinking that they were actually married.
The cold, hard truth was that he wasn't the same man that Castiel had fallen in love with. Though he had tried his hardest to win his heart, his best efforts were not getting him anywhere. Castiel didn't want him.
Dean wondered why he stayed. Out of pity? Duty? Guilt?
He had wanted to believe that Castiel just needed time to adjust, but it seemed less likely with every day that passed. He supposed the fact that Castiel wasn't willing to move on from him - the other him - showed the strength of the relationship they'd had before he lost his memories. But for the guy who couldn't remember anything about who he was or what they'd had together, it was a small consolation.
You were one lucky bastard, Dean Winchester, he thought. I hope you appreciated what you had.
He was gearing up to tell Castiel that he didn't have to stick around; he appreciated that he had tried but it obviously wasn't working out between them. He knew it was the right thing to do, to let him go and stop hurting him with the constant reminders of what he had lost. But he kept putting off the conversation, finding any excuse he could. Maybe it was selfish, but he didn't want to be alone again.
The day Castiel officially moved in, Dean dared to hope that his fears had been misplaced. The thought that Castiel might actually return his feelings had made him practically giddy. But when Castiel almost immediately retreated to his room after unpacking the bare minimum, Dean realised what he had done. He had made Castiel feel trapped in a relationship he didn't want.
The world came crashing down around him and his hopes crumbled to dust.
He was going to have to start all over again. Alone this time.
His footsteps dragged along the corridor, as though the heaviness of his heart was physically weighing him down. He forced himself to knock on the door.
There was half a beat before he got a response. "Yes?"
Dean tried to brace against the pain that was coming. He was about to break his own heart.
"Can… Can I come in for a second?"
The door opened for him. Castiel's eyes looked red-rimmed, as though he had been crying or had at least come close.
Dean felt another pang of guilt. "I'm sorry."
"I don't mind," Castiel said, moving to sit on the bed and inviting Dean to do the same.
Dean perched tentatively on the edge of the mattress. He didn't intend to stay long. He would get this out and then he would get into his car and drive far and fast so he wouldn't have to watch Castiel leave.
"I'm sorry," he said again.
"For what?"
He didn't even know where to begin. This whole thing was so messed up. But he supposed he could trace it all back to waking up in that hospital room without his memory and failing to recognise his own husband when he walked through the door.
"What… what was your name?"
He hadn't realised who he was talking to. He hadn't known that his words would be like a knife wound to Castiel's chest. He could never have guessed that he was destroying everything they had ever had together.
"For forgetting you."
In a way, he was apologising on behalf of the man he had been. The lack of a head wound made it seem like he had forgotten deliberately, but he couldn't imagine willingly giving Castiel up, no matter what other crap was going down. "I didn't mean to; at least I don't think I did."
"Dean… it wasn't your fault."
He shrugged, trying to make the gesture seem casual. "I guess we will never know for sure. But what came next… that is on me." He couldn't seem to swallow past the lump in his throat and the words were getting stuck. "I was the one who… I confronted you in that alleyway. I forced you to wear the ring. I made you stay with me. And I'm… I'm sorry, Castiel. I was only thinking about what I wanted. I didn't stop to think about how much it had to be hurting you."
"Dean…"
"I want you to know that I'll be okay. I have a house, and a job. I've worked out most of the basics. I'll be okay on my own. I can look after myself."
"Are you saying that you want me to go?"
An adamant 'No' rose unbidden to his lips but he squashed it down. "I want you to be happy. I know you won't be if you stay here. I'm not your husband, and you don't deserve to be burdened with me for the rest of your life. I'm not going to hold you to vows I can't even remember. I guess what I'm saying is… you don't have to stay. I'll be fine."
He couldn't interpret the way that Castiel was looking at him. He wondered if his past self would have understood what it meant.
"What you mean is that I'm free to go."
Dean winced. He made it sound like he had been a prisoner here.
"Right. Yeah. Of course you are. I'll just… get out of your hair so you can get your stuff and head on home."
Dean made to stand, but Castiel caught his arm.
Oh god, don't. Please don't. I can't bear to hear you say it. Please just let me get out of here before I fucking break down like the pathetic basket case I am. Don't make me cry in front of you.
"It's fine, Castiel, really," he lied. He knew that if Castiel thought he would fall apart without him he wouldn't leave, no matter how much pain it caused him. Dean couldn't do that to him. He had already hurt him enough. "I'll be fine. I'm doing much better. I haven't had a full-on panic attack in almost three days. I can do this. I don't need a babysitter. You don't have to stick around-"
"Dean."
"I mean it, Cas. I won't bother you. You will never have to see me again. You can grieve for your husband properly and move on with your life."
"Dean-"
"I don't need you, okay? So just go, go on, get out of here. Put me in your rear-view mirror and make tracks."
"Dean!"
He sucked in a breath, halting the flow of words. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes and he was helpless to stop them. "Please," he whispered.
"Dean, listen to me."
He tried in a last-ditch effort to fling up walls around his heart, as though there was anything that could protect him from the devastation that was coming.
"I am not going anywhere," Castiel said.
Dean was sure he must have heard wrong.
"Not now, not ever."
Guilt. Pity. Duty. One of the three. Dean obviously hadn't been convincing enough. "You don't have to-"
"This is my choice. I am not chained to you, Dean. I want to stay."
It didn't make sense. "But… I'm not your husband."
"No. You're not the same man I married. But I lost him a long time ago. If I keep trying to hold onto what I had then, I'm going to miss what I have now."
Dean's throat was dry. He shouldn't dare to hope, but that stubborn little flame inside of him flickered back to life. "What… what are you saying?"
Castiel took his hands into his own. "You're here now. You're different, but that isn't a bad thing. You're happier. Lighter. More open. More affectionate. I will never stop loving the man you were, but I think I can learn to love the man you're becoming."
"You don't have to say that just because you think I can't cope without you."
"You have it the wrong way around. I don't think I can cope without you. I never thought I would be able to smile again, but you… you make me happy, Dean. I want to find out what we could have together. So I'm going to stay, and there's nothing you can say to change my mind."
Dean stared at him. "Really?"
Castiel smiled. "Yes, Dean. Really."
He leaned in, and his eyes fluttered closed.
Dean gazed longingly at those lips that were barely inches from his own. He wanted to taste them so badly, but last time he had kissed Castiel he had been shoved away. Every time that he had come close since, Castiel had retreated from him. The message had been clear.
This right now, though, he had no idea how to interpret. Surely Castiel didn't mean for him to-
"This is the part where you kiss me," Castiel said without opening his eyes.
"Are you sure?"
He huffed, half amused, half impatient. "Yes, Dean. Kiss me."
Dean kissed him.
ooOOoo