Chapter Seventeen

Once he became human, Cas had quickly discovered that he was not a morning person. He usually felt groggy and disoriented when he woke up and he didn't start feeling halfway to normal until he'd had at least one cup of coffee.

But waking up next to someone he loved… there were few moments in his life more precious. And Dean always made it worth his while.

As he drifted into consciousness, Cas remembered the night before and a smile curved his lips. He rolled over to pull Dean closer to him, knowing that if he initiated a cuddle Dean would inevitably turn it into sleepy morning sex.

But the covers beside him were cold.

Concerned, Cas sat up, three seconds away from calling Sam to report Dean missing, until he noticed the mug of coffee waiting for him.

He found Dean in the kitchen, exercising again.

Cas spent a few long moments appreciating the view before he spoke up. "You know, Dean, the morning after is one of the best parts about sex."

"Sorry, babe," Dean said, only glancing up at him briefly before he continued his push-ups. "Gotta get this in before work."

"Intercourse burns calories, too," Cas felt the need to point out.

Dean raised an eyebrow at him. "Doesn't build muscle, though."

"It might build one," he said. He tried to wink.

Dean laughed so hard he fell flat on his chest. "Wow, what a flirt," he chortled. "C'mere."

"What?"

Dean rolled over and crooked a finger at him. "C'mere." There was a distinct purr to his voice that time; Cas realised that he was trying to seduce him.

"You're sweaty."

He spread his legs, just a little, and smiled. "Problem?"

Apparently last night had done nothing to dampen the desire coursing through his veins. Cas pulled off his pyjama shirt and dropped down ungraciously next to him, whacking his elbow against the floor. "Ow."

Dean laughed and pulled him in for a kiss.

Cas pinned his husband beneath him and discovered that he quite liked the taste of Dean's sweat. The sounds he made as Cas nibbled down his chest were even sweeter, but they were nothing compared to his reaction when Cas took him into his mouth.

Cas would have been quite happy to make love to him all day, but after returning the blow job Dean reluctantly said he had to get going. He made all sorts of promises about what they would do when he got home, though.

Cas didn't realise how thoroughly Dean had distracted him until the next morning when he woke up alone again. And again the morning after.

It shouldn't have bothered him. He understood why Dean wanted to get his strength back.

But it also felt like Dean was running away.

He was probably being irrational. After all, Dean had invited him into his bed on the very first day they met. Even while Cas had been keeping his distance, Dean had consistently left his bedroom door open at night as a reminder that the offer still stood. When they went to bed together, Dean curled around him and snuggled up against his chest. He seemed utterly content, like there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

But he was always gone before Cas woke up. Dean, the other Dean, had never been very touchy-feely, but he had usually indulged Cas in the mornings. Cas missed that, and he didn't want to. He didn't want to think about what was, he wanted to be in the now. He just wanted Dean to be there with him.

When Cas worked up the nerve to ask him about it, Dean said that he was too tired to exercise after work and he didn't want to miss a day. He also said he wanted to conserve what energy he did have left for the bedroom, and distracted him with sex again.

It shouldn't have been a big deal and Cas tried not to let it get to him, but once Dean dropped off to sleep Cas would lie awake for hours. He couldn't help but worry that this was Dean's new version of freaking out and that at some point he was just going to give up the farce and kick him to the curb. Unconsciousness would claim him eventually, but when he woke Dean would be gone and his fears would come flooding back with a vengeance.

Cas couldn't bear it.

One day while Dean was at work, Cas forced himself to have a long nap in the afternoon so he would be able to stay awake all night. He needed to work out what time Dean would slip out from under the covers and retreat to the kitchen. He needed to know if, somehow, there was something he was doing wrong.

That night, Dean went to sleep and Cas kept his eyes wide open. He watched the slow rise and fall of Dean's chest and listened to his breathing, just like he used to when he was an angel watching over him. He looked so peaceful; Cas couldn't imagine what could be wrong.

But at four a.m., he found his answer.

It wasn't what he had feared.

It was worse.

It started with a twitch. Just the slightest movement, the hint of a wince that flashed across his face and was gone. But a few moments later it was followed by a low moan. The sound was nothing like the sounds of pleasure that he made while they were having intercourse; this was edged with pain.

Dean's eyes were moving rapidly beneath their lids. His face contorted with panic, and then twisted into a raw expression of pure agony. A choked gasp escaped his lips. He tossed his head and his whole body arched, as if pulling against some invisible force that had him pinned.

"N-no!"

He jerked like a puppet on a string. His limbs sprawled awkwardly, as though he had no control over them. His fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles were turning white and his fingernails were digging into his palms.

"Please- oh god, please-"

He tossed his head again and his mouth pulled wide in a soundless scream.

He jolted once, twice, and then dropped back to the bed like his strings had been cut.

He heaved in a desperate gulp of air-

-and his eyes flashed open.

"Cas!" He jerked back in surprise and nearly toppled off the bed before Cas caught his arm. Dean flinched away from him and Cas pulled his hand away as though he had been burned.

"I'm sorry," Dean rasped. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, I'm just - it's time for me to get up. Go back to sleep. I'll bring you coffee later, okay? I just, I have to-"

"Dean."

But Dean was withdrawing from him, trying to escape the tangle of the blankets, trying to get off the bed.

"Dean!" The sharp crack of his voice froze Dean in place. Green eyes stared at him and, oh Father, Cas knew that look. Dean was terrified.

He tried again, more gently this time. "Dean, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

He was dripping with sweat and his body was shaking.

"No, you're not. Dean, talk to me."

"It was just-" He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I have nightmares, sometimes."

Cas remembered the nightmare he had walked in on the first night he was here, and he felt a deep sense of foreboding. "What about?"

There was a hysterical edge to his laugh. "Crazy shit, man. But they're just dreams."

"What 'crazy shit', specifically?" Cas persisted.

"I don't know. They don't make sense. They're just flashes."

"Of what?"

"Blood. Dead bodies. These freaky-ass monsters with teeth and claws and weird eyes. I'm always trying to fight them, sometimes with Sam, sometimes with you, and there's blood and I don't know if we got the monster or if it got us. Like I said, it's crazy."

"Are the nightmares always the same?"

"No. I can't even count the number of different monsters my subconscious has dreamed up. Sometimes they even look human. Once, the monster looked like you, only it was oozing black goo everywhere." He laughed again, but his eyes were wild and his breath was coming in short, shallow pants. "Look, Castiel, I need to – exercise helps me calm down. But you go back to sleep, I'll be fine in a minute."

"Dean. The dream you had tonight. What was it?"

Dean shook his head. "I can't- I don't really want to talk about it."

"This is important."

"Not really. It's just a dream. It doesn't mean anything."

Cas wished that was true, but he didn't believe it. And he had a bad feeling that Dean didn't believe it either. "Dean."

He sucked in a sharp breath and shifted his gaze so he was staring resolutely past him. "I was running. Something was chasing me. I could hear barking and snarling but it wasn't a dog, not a normal one – it was huge and black with red eyes and knife-sharp claws. For a second I thought I had managed to get away, but suddenly I couldn't move. And then that thing was on me and I was screaming and bleeding and god, Cas – I have never felt pain like that. Someone was laughing and someone else was screaming and I couldn't scream anymore because I was choking on blood and then there was nothing."

Cas closed his eyes, as though that could protect him from what he was hearing. But Dean wasn't finished and Cas couldn't help but absorb every word.

"Suddenly I was somewhere else. It was dark and hot and thick with smoke and the stench was awful, like rotten eggs and burning flesh, and there were – there were massive hooks sticking out of me. I was strung up like a worthless slab of meat, hanging over an abyss, and I thought being alone was bad but then I had company and – and-"

His face blanched and he lurched over the edge of the bed, vomiting all over the carpet.

Cas could only stare at him in horror.

Dean slowly sat up against the headboard and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His whole body was wracked with tremors. "It was just a dream," he whispered.

No. No it wasn't. It was a memory. Dean had remembered the Hellhounds tearing him to shreds. He had remembered Hell.

"How long have you been having these dreams?" he asked.

"I don't-"

"Did you have them when you were in the hospital?"

"No..."

"When you moved here?"

"Not – not right away..."

"When, Dean? Was it when I started living here with you?"

Dean's silence was answer enough.

The guilt slammed into him, hard, but it came out as anger. "Dammit, Dean, why didn't you tell me?"

"It doesn't have anything to do with you, it's just a coincidence-"

"No, Dean, it's not. Dammit. Dammit!" Cas spun away from him and paced to the window. It was still dark outside. Everything out there seemed calm and peaceful, but his thoughts were in chaos.

"Cas, they're just dreams."

Cas whirled on him. "They're not just dreams and you damn well know it! Otherwise you would have told me about them instead of trying to keep them a secret."

"Cas, they're not real. They can't be. The stuff in them, the monsters - it's insane. I just have an overactive imagination. I didn't tell you because I thought I could handle it, that's all."

"Who are you, Dean Winchester? Tell me."

"I'm a mechanic. I'm your husband. That's it, I don't know anything else."

"Are you lying to me?"

"No! Fuck, Cas, why would I lie? I don't know why you're reacting like this. They're just bad dreams."

"Dean…"

"I'm going to clean up this mess, and then we can just forget this ever happened, okay?"

A lump settled in the pit of his stomach. He wished he hadn't been so determined to find the reason behind Dean's absences in the mornings. But now that he knew, there was no going back. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"Sorry for what?"

He could feel his world breaking apart around him. He wanted to go back in time to the night where everything had been perfect, but he should have known that the life they were building would eventually come toppling down. "For doing this to you."

"Cas, you haven't done anything."

"Yes, I have," Cas said heavily. "I didn't mean to, but I knew that I was taking a risk by being here. I just wanted – but it was selfish. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry, because you're not going to like what I have to do next. But you have to trust me that it is for your own good."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Cas left the room. When he came back, he was carrying his duffle bag.

"No!"

"I'm sorry, Dean." Cas went to the closet and started pulling out his clothes.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Fixing a mistake."

Dean grabbed his shoulder and tried to yank him around, but Cas was still stronger than him. He shrugged off the hand and kept packing.

"Stop it! Cas, stop. You don't have to do this."

"I do. I'm sorry."

"I don't want your apologies. I want you here! I need you here!"

"If I stay I will only hurt you more."

"You haven't hurt me. But you will if you leave. Cas, you can't do this to me. You promised that you would stay!"

"I also promised to protect you, and unfortunately I can't do both. I have to go."

"No! I won't let you."

Cas turned to face him sadly. "You can't stop me."

Dean glared at him, and for a second Cas thought he was about to get punched in the jaw. But Dean made a snatch for the bag instead.

"Dean, let go."

"No!"

"Dean-"

"NO! You're not leaving." He yanked the bag clean out of Castiel's hands and leaped back out of his reach so he couldn't claim it back.

Cas could have fought him for it. Dean was no longer a physical match for him. But he couldn't guarantee that Dean wouldn't get hurt in the struggle.

They were just clothes. Easily replaced.

"I'm sorry, Dean," he said quietly. He turned to leave.

"If you walk out that door I will never forgive you."

Cas swallowed. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He didn't want things to end this way between them, but he knew it would be easier for Dean in the long run. If Dean hated him, he would be able to move on sooner. Cas would just become a distant memory, and Dean would go on thinking those dreams had just been dreams. He would be okay.

Even though it broke his heart to do it, Cas walked away. Dean didn't try to stop him, and he didn't look back.

ooOOoo