this fic is inspired by 'Another Kind of Memory' by FriendofCarlotta over on AO3, and takes place somewhere between chapters 9 and 10 of that fic

spoilers but for anyone that hasn't read the fic, it's a small town AU that takes place in Lebanon. Cas owns a bookstore named A Likely Story and is content to isolate himself from everyone in town because he has a big scar on his face that's the result of Amelia cutting him with a knife. then Dean takes over his grandmother's general store, Millie's, and Cas gets a big fat crush on him and writes him love letters he never intends to send. one of the letters falls to the ground when Anna is at the bookstore too and she hands Dean the letter, thinking he dropped it

Dean is so touched by Cas' words that he takes Anna, who he thinks must've written the unsigned thing, on a date but quickly finds he's not interested in Anna. they don't go on another date until Cas half volunteers to write another letter to make his sister happy even at the cost of his own happiness (because he's like that), signing the letter as Anna, but Dean recognizes the handwriting as Cas' and confronts them both about it separately. this is the letter fiasco I refer to in the fic. there's some angst but they eventually kiss and everything but the original fic is about growth and acceptance and all that and I definitely recommend reading it, as my summary doesn't do it much justice at all


There was a time where Castiel considered himself undateable—too horrendous to look at, let alone sit across from for an inconsequential amount of time with little else to focus on but either his face or the food on the table. There was a time where he thought the only title on his headstone could ever be 'good brother,' and that's only because Anna, his artistically inclined sister, would never let him get away with a blank one, not if she has anything to say about it.

Then he met Dean. Dean, who really wanted to spend time with him and get to know him. Dean, who was willing to overlook the…letter fiasco and ask him on a date. Dean, who had overlooked his appearance and saw not his disfiguration, but him, something that he spent six years thinking was impossible.

Seven years ago, Castiel…well, he saved (for lack of a better term) his cousin Claire from her mother Amelia, who had been struggling to cope with the death of her husband, Jimmy. Amelia became consumed with thoughts of angels and was convinced Claire was possessed by one that she had to cut out. Luckily, Claire called him and he managed to get between the girl and the knife her mother was wielding. Unluckily, it was at the cost of a scar on his face stretching from his forehead over his nose and cheek to the corner of his mouth.

Following the incident, he spent six years thinking he was unsightly, that no one would ever want to look at him, let alone go out with him, that he would forever be isolated and alone. Then Dean Winchester moved into town and took over the local general store called Millie's and slowly wormed his way into the heart Castiel didn't think was capable of being loved.

He's still working on accepting that last part, but Dean makes even the idea of having someone that loves him tangible, even if they haven't said the words yet. Maybe someday, he'll even be able to look into the mirror in the morning and see himself and not just his scar with the rest of him around it. Until then, he's happy to see Dean's reflection in the mirror beside his, both rumpled from sleep but content, happy.

That's another thing he never thought he'd have. Going on a date is one thing, but to actually have someone live with him and see him every day is almost beyond what he thought possible. It's definitely a large change from the day Dean first visited his apartment, distressed and angry upon discovering that Castiel wrote a second letter under Anna's name following the one Dean accidentally got ahold of, the love letter he was never supposed to see. If it hadn't been for Dean recognizing his handwriting, maybe Dean would still be with Anna, but despite everything between them, he can't be happier that Dean did find that letter, that Anna did give it to him, and that Dean decided to give him a chance anyway.

He wakes up to Dean pressed against his back, as he has every morning for the past three months since they moved in together in the apartment above Millie's. They've been dating for over a year now, and Castiel still can't hardly believe it sometimes after spending so long telling himself Dean would never want to be with someone like him.

"Morning, sunshine," Dean mumbles into his messy hair, long and overdue for a haircut.

"Hello, Dean." He turns over to face Dean, smiling a little shyly when Dean kisses his scarred cheek. "We should get up. We need to open our stores."

Dean ignores him for a few seconds before pulling away with a sigh, looking indescribably aesthetically pleasing when the sun peeks through the curtains to shine on him, making his skin look warm and his green eyes stand out even more than usual. "Yeah, yeah. We'll just have to pick this up later then, huh?"

A new warmth fills him when the other man winks at him, another smile pulling at the corners of Castiel's mouth in a way he never would've allowed a year ago, knowing how his scar makes his smiles crooked. But things have changed between then and now, and Dean's said enough times how much he enjoys it when Castiel smiles that he's finally started believing it, especially when Dean manages to pull another one out of him in the bathroom when they wash up together, making him accidentally cut himself while he's shaving.

"We're still on to head back to Lawrence to see Sam and Eileen tonight, right?" Dean asks during breakfast while Castiel scowls at the temperamental coffeemaker he never should've gotten, though him attempting to function in the morning without a dosage of caffeine isn't something anyone wants to see. "Dude, I'll get you a cup in the store. It's just downstairs, y'know. It'll just take a couple minutes to brew."

"I have to go into the bookstore early today," Castiel says distractedly. "We're getting a new shipment in today and I have to unload it before we can open."

"I'll drop you off a cup of the good stuff for lunch, then. C'mon, sweetheart, Baby's waiting."

Castiel eventually gives up on his attempt at making coffee, seeing that his coffeemaker clearly doesn't want to cooperate again. He follows the other man out of the store and into Dean's beloved Impala while his old Lincoln Continental sits neglected on the street, parallel parked a distance from Millie's in front of a currently abandoned store, just as it's been since Dean has started occasionally driving him the short distance to work. Even if Dean enjoys tinkering on it, Castiel doesn't really use the car anymore, and has even been thinking about selling it recently if only so they don't have to pay for two auto insurance rates anymore, as he hasn't really used the Continental since before he moved in with Dean. Dean doesn't really need to drive him to work, but Castiel enjoys spending time with him, so he allows it anyway even if he could just as easily walk.

Dean drops him off at the door of the bookstore, though Castiel knows this won't be the last time they see each other in the next few minutes, as it never is when their stores are so close together by foot or by car. A Likely Story had been a dream come true when Castiel got it, even if the money for it came as a result of the…incident that disfigured his face. The fact that it's so close to Millie's, a store Dean took over after his grandmother Millie Winchester moved to New Orleans with her girlfriend Ada, is an added bonus he has definitely grown to appreciate in the last year since he and Dean started dating.

After walking through the door, he takes a moment to bask in the tranquility that comes from being surrounded by books in a comfortable, familiar environment, with everything right where it should be and exactly how he left it when Dean picked him up to take him home last night.

He spends the afternoon starting on rereading Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, a classic he keeps coming back to for the beautifully flawed characters and clever dialogue, the easy back and forth always a joy to revisit. Dean stops by around the time Mrs. Bennet begins fantasizing about the status she'll gain with young Lydia married off to the deceptive Wickham, but business is rarely slow at Millie's, so Dean has to leave before long, no longer needing the excuse of wanting a book to read to stop by when dropping off a cup of coffee (like Castiel used to use as his own excuse to visit Dean) will suffice just fine.

The delivery of new books comes nearly two hours too late, making him wonder why he got up early at all when he could've spent that time in bed with Dean.

"Sorry I'm late—hit a spot of traffic coming down," the driver says distractedly when Castiel approaches while he's going through the back of his truck. "Where do you want—"

The sentence halts and dies the second the driver turns around and sees him, eyes tracing the scar that covers the majority of his face with little shame. Castiel is used to people staring at him—how could he not be when he's had the very visible scar for seven years now?—but living in a small town like Lebanon means that almost everyone he runs into already knows what happened and therefore make a conscious if obvious effort not to look.

The driver is either not from here or hasn't heard the story, as he expresses, jaw slack with shock, "Whoa. What happened there?"

The question always makes him uncomfortable, but it paired with the open staring makes him squirm and look at the ground despite himself. "I…I'd like to take my delivery now."

"Yeah…sure." The driver retrieves his package, but not without a few more glances at Castiel from over his shoulder. "Here."

"Thank you."

He wastes little time standing outside of his store, being looked at as if he's something in a zoo. It's far from the first time such a thing has happened and it will surely not be the last. But people who openly stare at him like that never fail to make him just that much more self-conscious of the disfiguration that he thought he had more or less accepted by now, now that he's found someone who can tolerate looking at him every day.

Castiel swallows and tries to ignore the incident, focusing on the books instead, but the excitement that usually comes from getting a new shipment is muted, overshadowed by the interaction he'd just had. With effort, he's able to push past it, but it still makes him hyperaware of his scar for the remainder of the day up until Dean picks him up so that they can drive to Lawrence to meet Sam and Eileen for dinner.

Dean begins telling him about what Cesar did during a supply run at Millie's, but Castiel's responses must be a little flat, because it's not long before Dean reaches over to turn down the music that had been playing—Led Zeppelin, he thinks, one of Dean's favorite bands, though most of Dean's music admittedly sounds identical to his untrained ears.

"You okay, Cas? You're kinda quiet."

After the incident with the letters and his own doubts that anyone would ever mean it when they say they want to be in his life had almost prevented them from getting together, Castiel always makes an effort to communicate with Dean. He's been getting better at it, and his therapist Dr. Barnes has said that communication is the key to a healthy relationship. Dean often tells Castiel what's bothering him, so it's only fair that he returns the favor.

"The delivery driver that dropped the books off was…staring."

He and Dean stare at each other often, but it's never bothered him, never been a struggle to make eye contact. They have entire conversations through a series of looks, not even needing words to express something to one another in a way that never fails to make Charlie coo at them, finding it all quite endearing, he understands.

Dean's grip on the steering wheel tightens slightly enough that Castiel wonders if he even realizes he's doing it. "Who was it?"

"No one from around here, I don't think." Castiel looks down at his hands, continuing, "I know I should be used to it by now, but it still…"

"Hey, you're allowed to be bothered when people gawk at you. Doesn't matter how long they've been doing it," Dean says immediately, always quick to come to his defense. "Did he say anything?"

'Whoa.' "Not really." He shakes his head slightly and changes the topic. "Where are we meeting Sam and Eileen?"

"Right at the restaurant. It's a shame Charlie couldn't come, but she and Dorothy already had plans, 'cause they're currently 'on' again." Dean smiles, saying with a small laugh, "Man, I haven't been on a double date in years. Are you excited?"

"I'm not sure what to expect. I haven't been on many regular dates." A slight smile tugs at his lips, pulling at the scar tissue on his cheek in a way he once would've never allowed as he adds, "Well, before you…"

Dean flashes a grin in response at that and they continue the drive in relative silence until they pull up to the restaurant. Dean opens the door for him with an overdramatic bow, and Castiel pretends his heart doesn't melt a little at the action.

They go into the restaurant hand in hand to meet Sam and his wife Eileen, finding them already at a table. "Hey, guys. How was the drive?" Eileen asks, hugging both of them.

"Long and hunger-inducing," Dean replies, dropping into a seat beside Castiel and immediately going for a menu. "Man am I starving."

"Happy to be back in Lawrence?" Sam asks, since he and Dean were born here, but Dean just nods distractedly. "Are you two planning on staying at our house, or driving back tonight?"

"We wouldn't want to impose," Castiel answers awkwardly when Dean's more focused on their meal than their plans for the night. He then reminds himself that he needs to trust what people say, and if Sam indicates he wants them there, he really does, though Castiel would still rather leave that decision to Dean. "Um…how's your law firm?"

"It's good. We recently got this client who wants to sue for slander, which is always kind of an interesting thing to dig into because of how difficult it can be to prove or disprove, though this case seems pretty open and shut…"

"Don't say that. You always say that before it starts to get complicated," Eileen interrupts with a frown. "Things are almost never that simple."

"Who knows? Maybe this'll be your lucky break," Dean says right before the waitress comes over and they place their orders. "I tell ya, I can't wait to dig in. Does this place still serve that apple pie?"

"Dean?" a new, unfamiliar voice cuts in, and Castiel freezes, glancing at Dean before looking up to see a woman with dark hair staring right at his boyfriend.

Dean, for his part, looks somewhat awkward. "Oh. Uh. Hey, Lisa. How've you been?"

Lisa. Castiel's heard that name before and knows she's the woman Dean dated before he went on that one date with Anna, which was a few weeks before he and Dean began dating, as he's admitted to only going on a date with Anna because he thought she wrote the letter that emotionally affected him when Castiel actually wrote it. Dean said he proposed to Lisa only so he didn't end up alone, but Lisa turned him down and they broke up shortly afterwards upon her revealing (while Dean was still on one knee, even) that she was interested in someone else.

"I've been all right. You…you look good, though." Lisa looks over the table and Castiel quickly ducks his head, but it's too late and he sees the way Lisa's previously polite smile grows tight, tensed in an attempt at casualness when she no doubt sees nothing but his scar, just like everyone else does. "Having dinner with some friends?"

"Yeah, kinda. You met Sam and Eileen before."

"Hey," Sam says to her, offering a respectful smile even though he's clearly not any more sure how to react to the presence of Dean's ex-girlfriend than Castiel is.

"And this here's Cas," Dean wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer, making Castiel fall closer as the other man adds, "my boyfriend."

Lisa's face goes through a strange range of emotions, most of which are variations of either disbelief or a grimace before she settles neutrally on a flat, "Oh?"

"Yeah, we're pretty serious," Dean continues, seeming unaware of the way Lisa is looking at Castiel, probably wondering how Dean jumped from dating her to dating…him. "Never been happier than with my buddy at my side, y'know?"

"You do look happy," Lisa agrees, now doing her best to look away from him and avoid any and all eye contact, making Castiel swallow heavily. "What was your name again?"

"Castiel."

"Castiel… Do you live around here? I don't think I have, uh, seen you here before."

Her tone is casual, but Castiel can tell what she's really saying, that she's saying it's obvious he's not from here or she would've recognized him in an instant the same way anyone else does: from the big, obvious scar stretching diagonally across half of his face. She's obviously trying to be polite, but it still hurts all the same.

"No, we live down in Lebanon now," Dean answers for him, still wrapped around his shoulders—not that he minds, as he enjoys any physical contact with Dean. "We run a coupla stores down there. Maybe you should check it out."

"Yeah, maybe," Lisa says, obvious from her tone that she has no intention of doing so, before she pauses to glance at him again and looks away just as quickly. "Well, maybe I'll see you around, Dean."

"Yeah."

Lisa leaves after a moment, and Sam wastes no time before giving Dean an unimpressed look. "Seriously? Dude, you don't have to impress your ex or anything, prove you did better after her."

"Oh, like you've never done that," Dean says dismissively, but the topic is dropped when their food arrives. "Man, look at this burger!"

Castiel would usually be amused by Dean's appreciation of food, but right now, he just feels kind of cold all over. He knows of Dean's exes, of course, but to actually see one is more than a little disheartening. Even as a gay man, he can acknowledge that Lisa is beautiful, and the idea of Dean going from dating people like Lisa or his sister (however brief it was) to dating someone like him

They surely know that Dean took a step down by dating him, that Lisa wasn't at all impressed to see who Dean's dating now despite his apparent happiness. And he has no doubt that Dean is happy with him, if only because he enjoys the stability of it all, but Castiel isn't naive enough to think for a second that Dean's actually attracted to him, even if Dean's said he is multiple times in the past and has complimented his physical appearance before, though usually just in the throes of passion where it doesn't really matter much what he looks like so much as what he can do.

It took more than a little convincing from Dean, but they always face each other in bed, as that's the way Castiel has always preferred it, always loving to be able to meet Dean's eyes when he's feeling vulnerable. Now, he can't help but wonder if Dean actually likes it that way, if Dean would prefer him on his stomach rather than his back so that he doesn't have to see the unsightly scar spanning across Castiel's face.

"Cas?" Dean nudges him, and Castiel's eyes snap over to him. "You okay? Your food's getting cold."

He belatedly realizes that his food is, in fact, getting cold and goes to eat, though he can't help but glance around the table, wondering if Sam and Eileen even approve of him being with Dean, if they're just as surprised as he is that Dean asked him out, let alone has been dating him for over a year now.

Dean keeps an easy conversation with his family going, but Castiel remains distracted. When they're in the car driving back home, Dean even notices how quiet he's being, but instead of answering to his boyfriend's concerns, Castiel asks, "Did Lisa know you're bisexual?"

That's the only explanation he'd been able to come up with for why Lisa would've looked at him so strangely, so blatantly uncomfortable, if not because of his scar. Maybe she simply didn't know Dean was also interested in men. Maybe Dean never confided in her about his exes, or she never thought to ask. Maybe she was just surprised to hear Dean utter 'boyfriend' when she never knew that was a possibility.

But Dean just blinks at him, seeming surprised, and replies, "Yeah, she did. Asked about Benny a couple times when we ran into him at a store, which was pretty awkward. But yeah, she knew. Why?"

Oh. So Lisa was only focused on his scar, just like everyone else. "No reason," he sighs dejectedly. Dean looks like he wants to say something, but Castiel doesn't really want to keep discussing this. "Did you enjoy your pie?"

That effectively ends the conversation, Dean perhaps recognizing the change of topic for what it is but allowing it to drop nonetheless, probably realizing that Castiel isn't ready to talk about it yet and giving him space accordingly in the form of gushing over the crunchiness of the crust and the warm gooeyness of the filling with just the right amount of cinnamon to complement the crisp apple slices, all while silently holding his hand and giving Castiel the comfort he didn't know how to ask for.

He doesn't deserve Dean…


Castiel has had the large, jagged scar on his face for seven years and has had more than his fair share of staring and comments alike. He's always been able to more or less forget about an incident after it happened, doesn't have much of a choice not to when it'll only ever continue to happen.

But he can't forget Lisa. Maybe it's because she's Dean's ex-girlfriend or just because of how persistently she avoided eye contact, but he can't stop thinking about their brief interaction. Dean's told him about his exes before, but a description of them wasn't included. Now, he wonders how attractive the other people Dean went out with were, whether Dean always used to date people that are at least objectively attractive, whether Castiel's the only exception.

"Dean," he begins one evening when they're eating at home, even if it's just a pizza, "what were your exes like?"

"Oh. Uh. Well, I first went out with Robin. You know, with the guitar? She was kinda nice, but we were both dumb kids, so it was never gonna work out. Then there's Aaron—"

"What…what about…physically?" he interrupts, trying not to sound too curious. "What did they look like?"

"I've always kinda been into dark hair, if that's what you mean. Benny had blue eyes, but nothing like your baby blues, y'know?" Dean meets his eyes, adding with embarrassing earnesty, "I could look in your eyes all day, sweetheart, and never get tired of it."

Castiel can't help the way he flushes at that, quickly looking away. "Oh."

"Did you know your eyes are the first thing I saw when I first looked at you?" Dean continues. "I just saw you standing there and zeroed in on 'em, and I've been staring at them ever since."

"R-really?"

"Yeah. I'd be happy to keep on lookin' for the…y'know, rest of my life and junk, too…"

A part of Castiel melts a little at that idea, even though he was trying to express his surprise at the idea that Dean noticed his eyes first and not his scar like everyone else. Dean's never been one to lie or anything, but a part of him still doubts Dean's words despite all the progress Castiel's been making to believe what people say to be true, unable to fully get rid of his doubts.

That's probably because that's all he sees when he sees himself in the mirror—the ugly, jagged scar scratched into his skin, red and puffy and just awful to look at. It wasn't all that long ago that he was telling his reflection every day, giving his scar a long hard stare, 'Dean is not for you,' and he can't help but wonder if he'll be repeating a similar phrase to himself soon.

Later that evening, he runs his fingertips along the numb, puckered ridge, tracing from his forehead over the edge of his nose and down his cheek to the corner of his mouth, his eyes tracking his own movements in the mirror. Once he reaches the end, he goes back to the uppermost part and feels down the length of it again.

"Dean is for you," he tells himself aloud quietly, but that doesn't feel…right. "Dean is…for you."

No matter how many times he repeats it, the doubt never fades, like a particularly difficult stain in a rug that never quite disappears no matter how many times it's cleaned. It had never really gone away in the first place despite the best efforts of both Dean and Dr. Barnes, but it did become quieter and easier to ignore at some point. Dean has said he doesn't mind the scar, but Castiel does, and just looking at it is sometimes enough to take the metaphorical wind out of his sails and leave him more subdued and sullen than usual.

The first one he talks to about it isn't his therapist, or even Dean, which he feels a little bad about. No, the first one he talks to is Claire when she stops by A Likely Story to visit him.

"Still lurking in the corner, I see," she says as a greeting, but he doesn't immediately come out, and not because he's mid-page in a good book. No, his copy of Wuthering Heights is sitting abandoned on the counter ever since it began describing the way Lockwood saw no issues in dragging the ghost of young Catherine's arm across the sharp, broken glass, a depiction early into the book that made the skin of his face tingle unpleasantly. "You okay? Trouble in paradise?"

"Not…trouble…" he hedges, and Claire's eyes widen as she moves to sit on the edge of the front counter.

"What happened? Dean didn't do something, did he?"

"No, of course not. I just…realized something when we encountered his ex-girlfriend recently."

Claire winces. "Meeting the ex is always hard. Was she a bitch, or what?"

"What? No, nothing like that," Castiel answers quickly, squinting at his cousin. "No, she was just…aesthetically pleasing. I think. Objectively, at least."

"Mood," Claire remarks, being a homosexual herself. "What's wrong with her being hot?"

"Nothing, but I'm…not. That's all."

"Not what? Hot?" He nods a little, and Claire scoffs. "I mean this in the most platonic, uninterested way possible, but yes you are, you doof."

"But what about…" Castiel gestures vaguely to his face, but his cousin just rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, there's that, but I don't know. It adds character. Makes you look tough."

"I'm not a very tough individual…"

"Maybe, maybe not. You're pretty brave, though, and that's just a sign of that." Castiel looks at her, unconvinced, and Claire adds, "Or you could just try to ignore it. Y'know, not think about it too much."

"That's kind of difficult to do when it's the most noticeable feature I have, and this isn't exactly the kind of thing you can change…"

Claire snaps her fingers. "That's it—we could just cover it. I have some makeup and stuff, and we can get more if you need it. Maybe we really could hide it, or at least make it less noticeable."

Castiel looks at her warily, having tried using makeup to conceal his scar years before when he first got it, but to no avail. But he still obediently sits as Claire works on his face, applying one cream or powder after another until she finally pulls away with a triumphant hum and a proud smile, giving him a mirror from her backpack.

"Well? What do you think?"

Castiel looks in the mirror and immediately sees the way the length of the scar has been somewhat concealed by the heavy layer of something that somewhat matches his skin tone, expertly blended together to make his whole face almost look like it's all one color. The ridge is still there, but it's more difficult to see, and that alone has Castiel smiling.

"I…I can barely even see it. Thank you, Claire."

"No prob. I still think you should try to ignore it—it's a part of you and you should, I don't know, accept it and stuff." Claire starts putting her things away, continuing, "It's kind of weird to see you without it, actually. But whatever makes you happy, I guess."

Castiel looks at his reflection again, tracing his finger over where he knows his scar is even if he can hardly see it now. He can still feel the raised line of it, still able to tell that there is something there, but it's so much better than it was before, nearly making his face look normal—possibly even attractive, at least objectively so now that it's not marred with the ugly, jagged line that he's been looking at in the mirror for seven years now.

"It's wonderful, Claire, thank you." He sighs wistfully, tracing over it again and wondering why he hadn't done this years ago. "I hope Dean likes it…"


Dean doesn't like it. It takes Dean only a few seconds after walking in the door to their shared apartment to see what happened, and the easy smile he'd walked in with falls from his face, though his tone is neutral.

"What, uh, what happened to your face?"

"Claire covered my scar with makeup," Castiel replies calmly as Dean steps forward to cup his face, his thumb brushing along the bottom edge of Castiel's scar where it goes to the corner of his mouth, just like he always does. "Do you like it?"

"Why'd you cover it, Cas?"

Castiel frowns, squinting in confusion at his boyfriend. "What do you mean?"

"Why'd you cover up your scar?"

Dean's tone is still so neutral that he can't figure out what Dean's even feeling or how he's reacting. The thumb continues stroking along his face, running over the raised numb skin of his scar like it's nothing more than an inconsequential speed bump, and Dean's still looking at him with an unreadable look in his eyes that Castiel's not used to, as he's usually able to tell what Dean is thinking with just a glance.

"It's…ugly," he answers slowly, wondering why Dean's pretending as if he's never noticed how unsightly it is before. "It's better like this."

Dean stares at him for a long moment before licking his lips, nodding slowly. "You like it better like this?"

Castiel tips his head a little, repeating, "It's better."

And it is better like this. It's far less noticeable even if it is still somewhat visible, but after spending seven years with the equivalent of a large, obvious, neon sign advertising his most vulnerable places spanning the majority of his face, this is definitely an improvement. He'll still be stared at, he knows, but maybe if it's not as obvious, it'll be a little easier to deal with people he doesn't know trying to figure out all his secrets with a look, a little easier to face people when there's less for them to examine and study as if he's a creature underneath a microscope.

Dean, however, just swallows and kisses his forehead, right where the top of his scar is. "Whatever makes you happy, Cas." The other man steps away, saying over his shoulder, "So, I was thinking chili tonight…"

"Do you like it?" Castiel asks somewhat anxiously, awaiting feedback.

"I'm glad it makes you happy, Cas," Dean replies before changing the topic again. "I got this great chili powder I wanna try out. Eileen recommended it. It's all the way from Nebraska, which I doubt can make anything decent, but…"

Castiel watches Dean leave with a frown, tilting his head at his boyfriend. Why doesn't Dean like him like this? His scar is far less obvious and therefore better, but Dean doesn't seem to like it. Perhaps…perhaps he's just not used to it, like he'd been when Anna got her first pair of earrings when they were young and he was uncomfortable by the sight of them; now, he can hardly picture his sister without something strange but expressive dangling from her earlobes. Maybe he just needs to wait and Dean will grow used to his new appearance.

Only it doesn't seem to happen. Claire teaches him what she did to cover the scar and he follows her instructions exactly, soon able to copy her technique to some degree of success, even if his version is somewhat sloppy due to not being accustomed to applying makeup like Claire is, as she's been giving herself thick dark eyeliner since she was quite young.

Days go by, and Dean seems somehow…distant, barely even looking at him anymore even when they eat across from each other or drive to work together. Seeing as how a majority of their conversations have always happened silently through a series of long looks, this difference hits Castiel hard and even affects the way he works and interacts with others, making him more quiet and subdued than usual.

"You're quiet today, Castiel," Dr. Barnes, his therapist, notes during one of their meetings, about two weeks after Castiel first started concealing his scar. "Is there something on your mind?"

"It's my scar," he admits with a long sigh, sitting back in his chair. "I've been covering it recently."

He's already told his therapist about Claire's actions, as it would've been difficult not to address such an obvious change during their meetings, but he has yet to tell her about Dean's actions, not really understanding them himself, let alone why Dean's acting strangely or if it's even related. Surely it is, since everything was as wonderful as ever between them until he began concealing his scar…right?

"Have you stopped liking the way it looks covered?"

Castiel's silent for a moment, thinking about it. "It looks better covered up," he says, just as he does every morning when he applies the makeup to cover it and every night when he takes it off and the red puckered mark down his face becomes impossible to ignore again. "But Dean doesn't seem to like it."

Dr. Barnes hums. "What makes you say that? Did he tell you that?"

"He didn't say anything about whether he liked it or not," Castiel huffs. "I've always had a difficult time figuring out what people mean when they don't just…say it, and trusting what people say is difficult on its own, but he won't say anything about it. Just that he's happy it makes me happy…"

"And does it?" the therapist asks. "Make you happy, I mean."

"I'm…not sure…" He runs a finger down the scar again, the raised line of scar tissue still easy to find no matter how much makeup he applies around it. "It's not as noticeable like this. Is it as noticeable?"

"It's less noticeable," Dr. Barnes agrees, "but that's not what I asked."

"I…I thought Dean might just need time to get used to it," he says quietly, looking down at his hands. "Maybe I need more time, too…"

"Castiel, whether you do or don't apply makeup is entirely up to you, of course. You shouldn't do it for anyone but yourself because no matter what happens, it's ultimately always going to be your choice and no one else's. Not even Dean's."

Dr. Barnes is giving him a look he doesn't understand, and he can't help but look away, his gaze focusing somewhere on the window partially concealed by thick velvet curtains as he searches for an answer.

"I don't like my scar," he says simply, and Dr. Barnes nods a little, silently pressing for more. "But I…I don't…it still feels strange to see it gone. And I don't know if I just need to get used to it, or if it will always feel like some part of me is…missing."

"Do you want to get used to it?" Dr. Barnes asks, and he can only sigh at the ceiling, admitting the thing that's been plaguing him since he first started concealing his scar, because even though he objectively looks better, something is still…wrong.

"I don't know…"


Dr. Barnes encourages him to talk to Dean about what he's feeling, considering how intertwined the idea of makeup to improve his appearance is with Dean's view of him, as he only recently realized how unattractive his scar makes him in comparison to Lisa or any of Dean's other undoubtedly aesthetically pleasing exes, but he still holds off.

It's not until Anna stops by A Likely Story that he realizes just how different he looks without his scar, since she comes in complaining about how busy the gallery has been but stops short the second she lays eyes on him, worryingly similar to what happened when Dean first noticed his covered scar.

"Castiel. You look…different."

Castiel, having just received a long stare from a stranger from out of town despite his attempted concealment efforts, says shortly, "I covered my scar with makeup. Claire taught me how."

"Why? Dean didn't say something, did he?" Anna asks, looking upset at even the idea. She may have been on what would technically be two dates with Dean, but that awkwardness faded a long time ago when she realized how happy Dean makes him and vice versa (though her meeting Carlos certainly helped, too). She's still very protective of him, however, and is willing even now to confront Dean, but he shakes his head. "Then why…?"

"I wanted to," he snaps, only to immediately feel bad about it. "I'm sorry. It's…been a long day."

Anna nods slowly, sitting on the edge of the counter beside him. "What happened?"

"Nothing. Someone was just staring. Again." He looks away. "I thought they wouldn't stare as much with…but they still do."

"Aw, I know it's hard…"

Anna says this to him often, but they both know she doesn't actually know how difficult it is to constantly be looked at by strangers as well as friends. Many people get used to seeing his scar eventually, but no one ever entirely ignores it. Anna herself can't seem to help but trace the length of it with her eyes every once in a while, just as she's doing to his concealed scar right now.

"Anna, I don't know what to do anymore. I thought this was helping, but it…it's not. People still stare, and Dean…" Castiel looks away again, finishing sadly, "Dean doesn't like it. And I don't know why."

Anna quickly looks both incredulous and like she's planning the best way to lure Dean to the art gallery so she can wrap his body in a drop cloth and leave it somewhere it'll never be found. "What did he say? Did he say that?"

"No, but he…he won't look at me, when it's covered. I thought he'd get used to it, but he hasn't, and he won't say why. I-I don't know what to do…"

"Oh, well, why did you start using makeup?" Anna asks. "You said Claire helped. Did she say something?"

"No one said anything. Claire had the idea of makeup, but she… That's not what started this." Castiel sighs, admitting, "It started when we ran into Dean's ex-girlfriend at a restaurant. She was just so…pretty, I guess. And I'm…not."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short. You've got a nice build, your hair looks okay when you bother to use a comb," he can't help but smile a little at that, if only because of Anna's smile, "you've got those big blue eyes I know Dean adores. You're not exactly bad looking, Cas."

"It's just this ugly scar that ruins everything," he finishes for her sullenly, touching his cheek.

"No, not ruins," Anna insists. "You're still plenty attractive, Cas. You're your own worst critic, you know…"

"It's hard not to be when all I see is everyone staring at me every day…"

Anna looks at him for a long moment before moving closer to give him a one-armed hug. She doesn't say anything, and neither does he, because there's nothing either of them can say that will make this situation better, nothing they can say that will erase his scar or stop people from staring. He'll always have the scar and people will always stare at him, and he just has to accept that, accept that he'll always just be…ugly in everyone's eyes, that neither Dean nor anyone else will ever see him and think that he's attractive or anything even close to that no matter what he does because of the mark he permanently bears for all to see.

This thought is the one that trails him all the way home after leaving his bookstore a little early to walk home and think and slipping into the upstairs apartment when Dean is busy somewhere in the store. This thought is the one that has him looking in the mirror at his face and concealed scar, this thought that becomes just as all-encompassing as the one he first had when he saw Lisa and realized how unattractive he is compared to probably all of Dean's exes, all because of the ugly, jagged line scratched into the skin of his face.

This is how Dean finds him sometime later, knocking on the open bathroom door. "Cas? You okay?"

"I'm fine," he replies on instinct before pausing, amending, "I'm…thinking."

"Must be pretty deep thoughts to have your face that scrunched up and squinty."

He would normally respond to the slight jab, but doesn't have the energy to now, not when he'll be able to see the way his mouth mostly just picks up on one side thanks to his scar, resulting in an ugly, crooked smile. Dean always coos at it, but Castiel's always hated watching the way his face moves ever since the incident that forever marked him as all but undateable. Dean may be willing to ignore it, but that doesn't mean he likes the way Castiel looks like he clearly liked how Lisa looks.

"I'm sorry, Dean," he mumbles instead, running his fingers down the length of his scar where some of the makeup has started to come off, revealing the angry red line of puckered flesh that he's used to seeing.

"What? Why are you sorry?" Dean's reflection joins his in the mirror, his face unmarked and perfect even when it's covered in sweat from the hot summer day and what might be the sticky remnants of a spilled soft drink sticking to his skin after wiping away said sweat. There's far more to Dean than his looks, but he's still a very attractive individual… "Cas?"

"I just wanted to make you…happy, to give you something you can happily admit you're going out with. But I don't think it's working, and I don't know what to do now…"

"Okay, whoa, what's this about happy to go out with?" Dean asks quickly, a deep frown on his reflection's face. "Cas, of course I'm happy with you! Did I…did I do something to make you think that I'm not?"

"No, I just…" Dr. Barnes is always encouraging him to speak up and reduce confusion and misunderstandings, so he just said bluntly, "You don't like my scar."

"H-huh?"

"I understand," he continues hastily. "It's not exactly…likeable, and it is rather unsightly. Everyone's always looking at it, and it's probably difficult to take me into public, and—"

"Cas—"

"Lisa didn't have any scars," Castiel blurts out, voice coming out unexpectedly desperate as his eyes meet Dean's in the mirror, not yet having the courage to turn and look at him. "Lisa was…was beautiful and perfect and I-I don't look anything like her! I-I'm not…not pretty or anything like her, and I'm not very nice to look at, a-and…"

Dean's quiet for a moment, looking strangely sad in the mirror before ducking his head over Castiel's shoulder, leaving Castiel with little choice but to follow his eyes like they're magnetic poles with a charge opposite to his own, leading his gaze up and around to face Dean properly.

"Is that why you've been covering it? You thought I'd like you better?" Dean asks quietly, and Castiel's eyes water a little as he manages a tiny nod. "Aw, Cas…"

"You don't even like it…"

"Cas, I like your scar," Dean says, and Castiel's head automatically goes to tip to the side, because he couldn't have heard Dean correctly. "It's a part of you, Cas, and that means I…y'know, love it and stuff. 'Cause it's part of you."

"An ugly part."

"An imperfect part, maybe, but that's not a bad thing, really. Just a part of what makes you, y'know…you. And I…I like that. 'Cause I…like you. And I'm no good with words, not like you are, but I mean that, Cas."

Dean scratches at the back of his neck nervously, but Castiel just keeps squinting at him. "Dean, you…you don't have to pretend to like it. I know it's ugly."

"Cas…" Dean opens his mouth, then closes it, shaking his head before stepping closer. "Can I…?"

He's not sure what Dean's asking for, but finds himself nodding anyway, watching as Dean steps closer and cups his scarred cheek in one hand while the other wets a washcloth that had been sitting on the counter, gently wiping it against his cheek to remove the makeup still clinging to his skin.

"Things didn't work out with Lisa, and I don't think they ever could've," Dean begins, voice soft but steady, like he's purposely keeping the moment tender. "I kept pushing to try to make things work between us, and I didn't even realize that all that time, she was trying to pull away, let me down easy. I should've realized, but I didn't, and I ended up proposing to her like a total dumbass."

"Why?" he asks, because Dean's only mentioned this once before, during their first date, and he could never quite figure out why Dean did that. Castiel wonders if Dean's embarrassed, since his face is already turning a little red.

"I dunno. It was pretty stupid though, but I just…wanted her to stay so much that I ignored all the warning signs and went for it anyway. But she wasn't into that idea, and I didn't wanna even see that because I was all afraid I'd end up alone." Dean continues rubbing slow circles into his skin, and Castiel finds himself effortlessly melting into it. "She…she said I wasn't husband material, and I spent so long trying to figure out why that I kinda convinced myself, hey, maybe I should be alone. Y'know? Maybe I deserve it."

"Why did she say that?" Castiel asks with a huff, opening the eyes that had closed at some point to squint at his boyfriend, offended on Dean's behalf.

"Dunno. I thought she was afraid of commitment, but she met some other guy and had no problems, so I thought it had to just be me. That's why those letters hurt me so bad. 'Cause…nobody's ever said stuff like that to me before, and nobody has since—not that they should, since you're…you're it for me, Cas, and…" Dean shakes his head again. "I'm getting off topic."

"I meant every word I wrote in those letters, Dean," Castiel says earnestly, not for the first time. "Anna helped word the second one and I signed it under her name, but I…I metaphorically poured my heart into them. I hope you know that."

"Uh, yeah, message received loud and clear, buddy," Dean replies, the tips of his ears going red. "You know, the first thing I thought when you opened that door to your apartment and invited me in to have our first date was 'I'm gonna do whatever it takes to make this work between us,' and I knew it might be hard with all that…mess with the letters and the misunderstandings, but we got past that, Cas, and we can get past this, too."

Dean finishes wiping off his face before placing a tender kiss on his forehead. Castiel knows without looking that all the makeup is gone from his face, that his scar is on full display again, but instead of worrying about that, he just looks into Dean's eyes and takes in the…the love he finds there, the love that's been there all this time that he's been too caught up in his own insecurities to see.

"It sucks that you don't like the scar, but personally, I don't mind it one bit," Dean says, kissing the bridge of his nose and then his cheek, all along the raised ridge of his scar. "I don't want you to be ashamed of it, Cas. You got it by being super brave. You saved Claire. I know you didn't like that old lady talking about you being a hero, but you kind of are, man. Because of you, Claire's still around, and that's not the only good you've done."

"I-I don't do very much, Dean…" he says, flustered by the mixture of praise and delicate kisses.

"You do. In such a small town, everybody does their part, and you're always willing to jump in to help out wherever you can, and that makes you a pretty good guy in my book." Dean has two hands cupping his face now, looking right into his eyes. "I didn't say anything about you covering the scar because it's your choice, no matter what I think, but I…I dunno, I don't really like you having to hide a part of yourself. But if that's what you wanna do, I'm gonna support you, okay? Whatever makes you happy."

Castiel pauses at that, having thought that concealing his scar would make Dean happy, especially since he's recently realized that covering such a prominent part of himself doesn't really make him happy or even stop people from staring, making him wonder more than once during the past two and a half weeks why he even keeps covering it at all.

"I don't think it makes me happy," he admits quietly. "I thought it did, but it…it doesn't. I thought it'd make you happy if I looked less…"

"Less like you?" Dean finishes for him, voice tight before he kisses his scar again, right where it dips to the corner of his mouth. "Never. I happen to like you just the way you are."

He tries and fails to blink back tears at that, but it's an uphill battle that he quickly loses. Dean wastes no time in pulling him into a hug at that, and they both fall silent, quietly enjoying the comfort of each other's arms. After how distant they seemed to be over the last few weeks, it's long overdue, and Castiel doesn't intend to let it end too quickly.

They don't say anything for a long moment, and when they do, Dean asks somewhat gruffly, "You okay?"

"Yes. Thank you, Dean." He looks back at the mirror, seeing the reddened line of scar tissue on full display, and while he still doesn't like how it looks and probably never will, it is a part of him, and the fact that Dean likes it as much as any other part of him does help. "I don't think I'll cover it anymore."

"Because of what I said?" Dean asks with a frown. "I don't wanna force you—"

"You're not forcing me to do anything," Castiel assures him, watching his own reflection smile, watching the way one side of his mouth goes higher than the other, something always exacerbated when he risks a larger smile. Dean told him on their very first date not to hide his smiles, and a year later, he still listens, still lets Dean see them even if Castiel still hides them from everyone else in fear of receiving even more judgemental stares than he usually does. "I don't think covering my scar makes me happy."

"Not because of anything I said or did?"

"No, Dean." He meets his boyfriend's eyes in the mirror. "Can we eat dinner? I'm hungry."

Now it's Dean's turn to crack a smile. "Sure, sweetheart. Where do you wanna go?"

He thinks about it for a moment. "The Italian restaurant in Smith Center?"

Dean pauses, and Castiel turns to face him again. "That's the place I took your sister on that date," his boyfriend reminds him warily, even though neither Castiel nor Anna have cared about that since the beginning of his and Dean's relationship over a year ago. "Two dates, I guess, but the second one was just to confront her about the letters."

"I'm aware," he replies, reaching up to cup Dean's face just as Dean always does his, though there's no jagged scar for him to brush his thumb over. "There aren't many places to have a romantic evening together here, Dean, and I'd like to move on." He looks away, adding shyly, "And I've heard good things about their breadsticks."

"They're a little salty," Dean tells him, bringing him in for a kiss. "Let's head out there then, if you're sure."

"I am. And, um…you're very much boyfriend material, at least, Dean. I hope you know that, too."

"Thanks, Cas…" Dean clears his throat, the tips of his ears going red. "Cas, I…I love you, man. I can't write fancy letters like you, but I want you to know that."

Castiel melts a little at that even before Dean presses a kiss on his forehead, right on the highest part of his scar. "And I, you, Dean. But I'm also very hungry and I'd like to eat now."

The laugh that earns him makes Castiel feel as if he's floating, finally free from all the doubt and insecurities that have been weighing him down for weeks, once again completely content in the knowledge that Dean cares very deeply for him even with his flaws. Maybe with a little help, he'll even learn to feel the same about himself someday and love himself the way Dean does, scars and all.