Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cas' blood is still dried on the back of the dungeon's door. Dean isn't sure why he thought it would be gone, but it's still there. Just like the bloody handprint is still on the shoulder of that jacket in his room. He refuses to sleep in there, even though he's the one that put the jacket there in the first place. He tries not to sleep at all, really. But usually he just passes out on the floor of the library now, several drinks in. 

He knows it's bad. He knows he's making the other two worry, and that he should try harder for Jack and for Sam, but after all of it... he just can't. 

But they finally beat Chuck. Jack did, mostly. And now he says he might be able to save Cas. So Dean sits on the floor of the one place he swore he'd never step foot in again, waiting. This time with a dangerous flame of hope in his chest because Cas has come back every damn time before, and it seems beyond cruel of this universe to throw everything it has at Dean and leave this being the one time he can't get him back. Wouldn't that be the icing on the cake? God's dead? Check. Free-will? Check. Cas out of the empty? Now, hold your horses...

That's where the universe says "Ah, sorry kiddo, you can't get everything you ever wanted, where's the fairness in that?" And then Dean would have to sit and live out the rest of eternity with Cas alone and dead in the empty because of him.

Dean hasn't told Sam or Jack the whole story. They probably deserve to know. Maybe Jack already knows now since he's all-knowing or whatever, but it's different for Dean to say the words himself. It makes it more real. And then he'd have to see the look on Sam's face. That knowing look. That look that says all the things that Dean's been trying so hard to keep buttoned down for weeks. That look that Sam gets every time Cas is dead and Dean completely loses it. Except it'd be worse this time because Cas was in love with him and then Sam would know and he'd look at him like... something.

It might just break him completely this time. 

If this doesn't work... 

The door can burn. This whole room can burn. The whole bunker. Dean doesn't care. If this doesn't work he doesn't think he can stay here anymore, knowing his best friend died just down the hall after telling him he was in love with him. This place is cursed. He gets now why John never turned back after Lawrence. Not that losing Cas is the same thing as John losing their mom. It's different, but it's just... the comparison is there. It makes sense to compare. Since Cas is family and all... 

Dean hears a wet, slopping, gooey movement coming from the wall. He stands immediately, nearly stumbling over his own feet, and just stares at the black sludge stir and spit out two figures. It disappears just as quick as it came, leaving no trace. 

The first thing that happens is a body shaped like Cas collapses on the floor next to Jack, wearing that same tan trenchcoat that disappeared in the middle of the room weeks ago. The next thing that happens is that body jolts to life and gulps in a deep breath of stale dungeon air. The last thing that happens is Dean forgets to breathe until the person in the middle of the room finally turns around and looks at him. Those blue eyes send a jolt through his spine. They see Dean sitting in the same spot as last time, likely wearing that same stupid look on his face as last time that basically says this isn't happening. But just like last time, Dean can't move. He gulps in a shocked breath, finally, when the person matches that deep gravelly voice and says, "Dean."

"Cas." It's just a single breath out, and he's moving. 

Sam is saying things. Jack is saying things. Dean isn't ashamed to admit he doesn't give a flying fuck about what kinds of things either person is saying. He gets up and stumbles across the room, colliding with a solid-mass of trenchcoat and angel. Living. Breathing. Warm. Alive. Cas. 

Dean circles his arms around Cas' neck, hands clutching fists-full of that stupid tan coat, face buried in Cas' shoulder. Cas clutches back just as tightly. 

"How many times am I gonna have to tell you not to do that again?" Dean aims for a joke but his voice cracks halfway through, words muffled by Cas' hair. 

"I'm sorry, Dean." 

Dean just grips him tighter. He doesn't know what else to say. There isn't anything more to say. Not right now. He can't just forgive him right then and there after all that, even though he does. Despite everything, he always seems to forgive Cas. And he can't say anything about the rest of what happened in the dungeon that day... That's a conversation for later-Dean and later-Cas. Because they get to have that now. A later. 

Reluctantly, Dean shoves himself off of Cas maybe a little too roughly, and grunts out, "Good to have you back, man." 

Sitting alone in his room for the first time in weeks, every bone in Dean's body wants to get up and go to Cas' room if for no other reason than to just make sure he's still there. But he can't do that because then he'd be alone with Cas again. And he'd have to talk to him and he'd have to... what? What is he gonna do? What is he gonna say? What does someone even say to something like that? Telling Dean all the good things that he saw in him and spilling his entire heart out on the floor with threat of imminent death approaching... Did he expect Dean to say something? Was he sitting in the empty wondering why Dean just stood there in shock? Did he think Dean would say something back in those .5 seconds before being shoved into the ground and watching black snot shoot from the wall and swallow his best friend into eternal darkness? 

True happiness... that had to be an exaggeration, right? It was more like just a happy thing... of the many happy things a person can experience in life. Not like the peak of happiness... right? Because if he's Cas' idea of happiness then Dean has gotta treat that guy to some better times. Dean is just not it. He can't be. It makes no sense. Cas doesn't know what he's talking about. 

That stupid angel and his stupid feelings. Which he learned all from Dean, apparently. 

Dean passes out for the first time in a long time without a drop of alcohol on his lips, and with thoughts of Cas swirling through his mind. 

Dean has no idea how to act around Cas now and it shows. It starts at breakfast when he stomps in at the crack of dawn where everyone else is already awake for God knows what reason, and here Dean shows up in the same clothes as yesterday with rampant morning breath.

What in the hell does Cas love about this? Dean is smelly and he's rude and he's mad all the time and snaps at people in the morning before he gets his coffee and... why him? Does Cas get all hot and bothered when he looks at him? Can he? Dean has found these thoughts crossing his mind a lot more now that he's actually started letting himself think about Cas at all rather than trying to drink himself into unconsciousness. And it's as he's considering what other things about him that Cas loves, and while pouring himself a large cup of lukewarm coffee, that Cas sneaks up next to him and corners him with his stupid puppydog blues and messy bedhead and... pajamas? Since when does Cas wear pajamas? He might as well be naked without the eight layers he usually has piled on every second of every day. He's downright indecent right now. The guy is showing forearm for Christ's sake and Dean just stares down at him like a horny englishmen in the 1800s seeing a flash of ankle.

Wait, no. Not horny. Not like that. That's just-

Oh, whatever.

It's Deans confusion at this entire image and the fact that he just thought the words "horny" and "Cas" in the same sentence that he lets Cas stand there for so long just looking at him. Or did he say something? 

"What?" Dean grumbles, hip colliding with the counter as he tries backing up from Cas and only succeeds in keeping himself cornered.

"I-uh, was wondering if you wanted help at the store today." Cas asks with direct and complete eye contact, which Dean evades the first chance he can by focusing his entire attention on his coffee.

"I'm going to the store today?" Dean raises his voice, asking the room. Eileen and Sam sit at the table with coffee, Jack seated across from them. 

"Your girlfriend didn't just come back from the dead, so yeah you're going to the store." Sam grins over his mug. Dean glares murder over his own cup, but Sam just continues, "Eileen had the idea that we should get some of the hunters together, have a type of freedom celebration. So I hit up Jody, she and the girls are in. She's gonna spread the word."

"And you volunteered our house for the block party?" Dean pointedly avoids looking at Cas at all as he moves away from him, taking the seat at the table next to Jack. In the corner. Where Cas can't follow. Because Dean's a coward like that. 

Eileen grins, "Hosting means gifts and gifts from hunters means more alcohol." 

She has a point. He purses his lips in faux consideration, nods, and raises his cup. "Come one, come all."

Sam grins and Eileen smiles up at him. Their stools are basically on top of each other and she has both arms wrapped around one of Sam's, one leg resting over his lap. Sam's eyes catch hers and he looks down, all sheepish. Sam, the big lug, all six-foot-something of him and he still blushes when his girlfriend looks at him. Dean can't help but smile. He's glad Sam gets to have a happy, sappy start at life with Eileen.

Dean catches Cas looking at them, too, from the end of the table. Does Cas want that with Dean? To be all soft and snuggly and in love? He hides his face in his mug and avoids looking at anyone at all. He should be carefree and happy like the rest of them, but that little conversation that Dean had already allotted for a later-Dean with later-Cas is creeping up on him and he still has no idea what to say or do about it. He doesn't want to hurt Cas when he just got him back. And when Dean and Cas start inevitably being weird around each other, Sam's gonna wanna talk about it. And he'll tell Eileen about it. And someone will tell Jack. And everyone will just... know. He doesn't wanna face any of it.

"Sam said we can make s'mores! I've never had them before!" Jack grins, scooping up a mouth-full of cookie crisp.

"I made a list, if you and Cas want to-" Sam starts.

"No, I can take the kid." Dean chugs down a last gulp of coffee and slams the empty mug on the table.

"Okay... are you sure?"

"Yeah!" Dean grins and slaps Jack on the back. "A little one on one bonding, huh?"

Jack smiles and nods, looking a bit confused but not commenting on it. 

Dean knows Sam is looking at him with his what the hell is that about? confusion face. The face where if Dean were to actually look at his brother, they'd start a silent conversation just with looks across the table. Another conversation Dean really just doesn't want to start.

But he does look at Cas. God knows why. Maybe just because he has to look somewhere while he stands up to leave, or maybe to shoot himself in the foot because Cas is just looking down at his mug with no expression at all, which means he's probably trying very hard to look that way, which means he's upset too. 

Dean's halfway down the hall when he calls over his shoulder, "Jack, put on your shoes we're leaving in ten."  

Chapter Text

Dean half expected Cas to try and tag along on their little grocery trip despite the lack of invite, but he didn't. So it's just Jack and Dean standing outside of the marketplace as the poor teenager tasked with opening the store unlocks the front doors for them. Why they had to come to the store when the sun is barely up is no one's fault but Dean's. He could have planned for later today, or even just tossed Cas the keys and a credit card and told him to go nuts. But nope, he made his bed and was lying in it.

Jack is more excited about meeting Claire and the other girls than anything else, and wants to make sure they get enough snacks for everyone. And Claire's favorite beer. He'd texted Kaia to ask which one. Frankly, it's nice to hear Jack just blabber on about nothing for a little while so the focus isn't on Dean.

It's not until the cart is half-full, with all but the last couple items crossed out of their list, that Jack brings up Cas. 

"Dean..." Jack's voice is quiet, tentative, "why aren't you happy that Cas is back?"

"I am." Dean answers absently and continues rolling down the last aisle slowly, keeping an eye out for the final couple of items.

"You don't act like it. You keep avoiding him."

"I'm not..." He pauses, knowing that's a complete lie, and corrects, "I'm just mad at him."

"Why? Shouldn't whatever you were arguing about before be less important after he died?"

"I'm not mad from some argument. I'm mad because he died at all." Deans sighs, tossing a bag of chips into the cart, "It's complicated."

"You're upset that he left you... so now you're ignoring him..." Jack's brow crinkles like he's trying to understand, but doesn't actually understand any of it. 

"No-" Dean stops the cart. "Aren't you like omniscient or something now? Can't you just figure out the answer to it yourself?"

"Mm, yes and no. I imagine it's the difference between experiencing something and just simply reading about it or watching it in a movie. You can see it, and you can understand it to a point, but until you've experienced it yourself you can't really truly understand it. And I've never been in love, so I don't know. But I'd like to try to understand."

"Alright, well..." Dean starts and then stops in his tracks again, "Wait, in love? Where did you get that part of it from?" 

"Well, because you're in love with each other." Jack states it like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"What? Who told you that?" Dean realizes he says it like it's a secret he and Cas had both been keeping together, rather than just Cas. He backpedals, all the words tumbling out at once, "I mean, I'm... not. It's not... that. Cas is. He does. He feels that way."

"And you? You don't love him now because he left you?"

Dean rolls his eyes and groans, "No, that would be stupid. I'm not in love. Never been. Not with... Cas. Cas is the one with the big love declaration. He's in love with me. And he told me and then he died. Now I'm just pissed because he went and died again when I specifically told him not to. My thing has nothing to do with the rest of the things. That's... just Cas."

"O-okay..." Jack's brow is crinkled in confusion again, and silence weighs between the two of them as they start unloading the cart to check out. 

Jack breaks the silence again on the way back to the car. "So why would it only be a problem for Cas if you're the one he's in love with? Even if you don't feel the same way, he's still important to you, right? Shouldn't that be something you work out together?" 

Dean sighs, unlocking the Impala's trunk. The kid sure isn't shy about getting to the root of an issue and talking it out like a grown ass adult. "Yeah, it is. And we will. I just need some time first."

"To figure out if you feel the same way." Jack nods in understanding, loading a couple of bags into the trunk.

"What, no? I- just- to figure out what to say. Not how I feel. I know how I feel."

Jack looks at him then, and tilts his head in a very Cas manner, squinting before he says boldly yet entirely cryptic, "I don't think you do."

Dean slams the trunk and just looks at him. Jack grins like he finally figured out this conversation and is silently happy with the results, while Dean feels like he was just brain-picked by a four year old and has even less understanding of what to do. 

Hunters start filtering in and out of the bunker late in the afternoon. Dean doesn't recognize a lot of the faces so he just hangs back near the kitchen and nurses a beer. He also hasn't seen Cas all day either, so he's antsy about that too, constantly keeping his eyes grazing the heads in the room looking for him. What he doesn't do is let himself think about why. 

I don't think you do. What kind of crap. Dean knows how he feels about Cas. And he knows he's not gay. He doesn't think about Cas like that. He hadn't even thought before that Cas could feel that way about someone... which feels almost shameful to admit now, even just to himself. Why wouldn't Cas be able to feel that way about someone? He's a caring guy. Too caring, almost. Except he's never even looked  at anyone before. The few waitresses Dean tried to set him up with over the years, Cas showed no interest whatsoever. Was it because they were women? Maybe Cas only likes guys. Has Cas been checking guys out left and right for years and Dean's just been completely unobservant? Surely he would've noticed that. He saw Charlie checking out girls all the time... so it's not a gay thing. It's just... has Dean just never paid attention? How has Cas paid so much attention to Dean over the years that he went ahead and fell in love with him and he feels all these things and has all these nice things to say but Dean can't even tell you if Cas has checked out a dude once in his life? Screw love interest, what kind of a friend does that make Dean? And now here he is, being a shitty friend yet again just because he's mad at him for sacrificing his life for him. 

Dean is an asshole. 

He's the worst. 

He doesn't even know most of the people in this room. Sam does. He's greeting everyone like they're old friends. Cas probably knows all of them too, because Cas is just like that. He cares about people like that. Just like Sam. Why couldn't Cas fall in love with Sam? He's the better brother. They both would deserve each other more. Sam would know exactly what to say, too, to turn Cas down and still be just as close as before. Maybe that's how he deals with it. W.W.S.W.D. What would Sam Winchester Do? He could always ask him... but... no. Not yet. First step is easy, though. Sam wouldn't be pissed at Cas just for dying. 

Dean needs to find Cas.

He chugs the rest of his beer and sets the empty bottle on the ground by the door, mentally filtering through possible Cas locations. He'll probably either be in his room or outside. There's nowhere else in the bunker he'd care about being right now. It's not like there's anything to research, and Cas tends to not like hanging out in any other rooms but the library and kitchen. He's not in either of those.

Dean hopes to God that he's in his room, just to make this easy. If he's outside he could be literally anywhere. Cas tends to get lost in nature if he has enough free time to explore it. Him finding his way home isn't a problem, but Dean doesn't want to have to go about searching. He'd have to hit up the angel's local spots, one of which is only reachable by way of a mile trek through the woods. With no cell reception. 

Dean reaches the door at the end of the hall and knocks. No answer, so he opens the door anyway. Cas isn't in his room. 

Dean digs his cell from his pocket and paces back down the way he came, hitting Cas' name in the contacts. A phone rings from behind one of the doors ahead. The call drops as Cas declines it, so Dean hits call again. A ring sounds out from behind Dean's own bedroom door. He stops just outside, then lets himself in. Cas is sitting on the bed wearing what appears to be a pair of Dean's jeans and t-shirt, head in his hands. 

"Hello, Dean." He says without looking up.

"What the hell, Cas? Declining calls now?" He shuts the door behind him.

"I heard you stomping around in the hallway and figured you'd find me eventually." Cas finally looks up, dropping his hands. 

"What's the stick up your butt, Cas?" Dean jokes, but his tone is soft. He crosses the room to sit beside him on the bed. 

"Dean..." Cas turns, eyes doing that whole soft puppydog thing again, and all of Dean's guards lower instantly. "I'm sorry."

Dean pauses, taking in the angel next to him. "You didn't do anything wrong, Cas. I've been the dick." Why did Dean sit so close to him? Their sides are practically squashed together, and there's a hell of a lot of bed space in either direction he could've spread out on instead. But Cas is just nice to be near. The warmth on his side a reminder that he's really here and really alive. "That's why I was trying to find you- set things right."

Cas searches Dean's eyes a moment before returning his gaze down to the hands wringing in his lap. "I never realized how much you... suffer, when I'm gone. I've seen you lose people before, Dean. You're extremely resilient. You always bounce back. I'd figured, if I let the empty take me... Well I just figured that you've lost me before and you've gotten through it... so you'd get through it this last time too. Sam tells me otherwise."

"Yeah. Screw y-" There's no harshness to his words, but Dean lets the rest of that sentence die in his throat anyway and just shakes his head. "Damnit Cas, I can't keep watching you die, man."

"If it's any consolation, I don't intend to do it again." He smiles.

"It's not. You said that last time too." But Dean smiles back and for a second it's just them sitting in each other's presence taking in how alive the other person is right then and there.. 

God, Cas is important. How does he do that all the time? Going around thinking he's absolutely nothing when he's absolutely everything? He's everything good. And he just looks at Dean like Dean is just as important, even though he's not. He's always been so much less than Cas. 

"Dean?" Sam pounds abruptly on the door only a couple times before letting himself in. Dean and Cas part their gaze at the same time, looking up at Sam who jolts a moment at the realization he may have interrupted something, before he quickly recuperates. "Uh, Jody and the girls are here. They're looking for you guys."

Sam pops out as quickly as he came, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. When Dean looks back at Cas, the angel seems to be deep in thought. 

"You good?" Dean asks. 

"I noticed that you didn't talk about... the nature of my departure with Sam or Jack."

"No." Dean says, hard and abrupt. 

"Dean, we don't have to talk about it, but I sense that you've been avoiding me partially because you don't know what to say. You don't have to say anything. We'll just go back to the way things were before. I'd prefer that, if that's alright with you."

Cas looks at him all nice and understanding and Dean just looks at his hands, trying to gather up the words that have been floating around in his head for weeks so he can say just one coherent sentence in response. Just one that's maybe even a fraction of the nice things that Cas says about him. But he just sits there unable to come up with anything at all. He's not a words man. He's an action man. So all the words just keep floating around and Cas is endlessly patient while the silence keeps weighing down between them. Eventually, Dean looks back at Cas and takes in his gaze, which says everything about how much he cares about Dean. How has Dean never noticed that before?

He wants to tell Cas that maybe if things were different. Maybe if Dean was better and could handle this kind of thing better. Maybe if Cas wasn't a guy. Because the thing is it's not Cas that's the problem. He wants to say all these things but instead he just ends up with-

“I’m... I’m not gay, Cas.” Dean breaths it out, nearly a whisper, as though he doesn’t really even want Cas to hear it. It's not even really an answer to what Cas just said, but he says it anyway. He's not entirely sure why. 

But Cas does hear it, of course he does. What’s worse about it is his posture doesn’t change, his face doesn’t change, and his eyes... god, his eyes. His eyes stay right on Dean, and soften, if it’s even possible for Cas’ eyes to grow any softer as they look at Dean.

But they do, never leaving Dean’s face. He tilts his head and smiles, “I know, Dean. It’s okay. Really.”

It really would be okay, too. Cas would go on business as usual, and Dean could pretend that this never happened. Because that’s just how Cas is, how he’s always been. Selfless, sacrificing, loving...

And that sucks. Suddenly that sounds like the worst possible thing they could do about this. The thought of forgetting about it all makes Dean sick to his stomach. His stomach is already in knots but this single fleeting thought of letting this all go away brings a fresh heavy knot all the way from the pit of his stomach into the hollow of his chest.

It’s then that Dean realizes they’ve been sitting there, simply staring at each other, for probably way too long. Longer than two normal people. One straight guy and one gay one, apparently. Because Cas is gay now. Gay for Dean.

Maybe the staring thing is normal for that kind of duo. When one of them is in love with the other one. When one’s an angel and doesn’t realize that staring so long at someone isn’t a normal human thing to do.

So what’s Dean’s excuse, then? For the staring. He’s still doing it. Eyes dragging over Cas’ face, searching for an ounce of hurt or a single reason to call this whole “forget about it” nonsense off. Finding none.

This shouldn’t bother him. But it does. So he keeps looking.

Cas really is a handsome guy. Or Jimmy was. Except it’s not just Jimmy now, and his face is more than handsome just in the way his features come together. Cas’ face is nice because it’s Cas’. The way he holds himself, the way he looks at people with such a fondness behind his eyes.

Not to mention when he gets all smitey or defiant and that rebellious spirit that’s just purely Cas hardens his face. It’s... not hot. If Dean were the type of guy to think about his friend like that maybe he would describe it as that. If he were describing Cas to a girl to try and help Cas get a date, though, maybe he’d describe him like that, sure.

So sure, Cas is hot.

But Cas rarely looks at Dean with that smitey look. Usually when he had, Dean was trying to die or do something stupid so the rest of them wouldn’t have to. And Cas looked like that because he’d been in love with him. Apparently.

Dean tries not to think about the fact that he’d looked at Cas the same way countless times when Cas did something stupid in the same vein. Just trying to save everyone else. A couple of self-sacrificial dumbasses, the two of them.

Dean chokes out a laugh that’s more of a shaky exhale, and looks down towards his feet, finally breaking his gaze away from the angel’s. “We stare at each other too much, Cas, you know that?” He's not sure why he says it, but he does. He hasn't said anything about how much Cas stares in years. Or about how closely he stands. That's just a Cas thing. Or is it a Cas and Dean thing? He's not sure anymore. 

“I-“ Cas stumbles over his words, shifting, “People do seem to comment on it quite often.”

Dean looks up to see Cas also looking towards the floor now, and that hollow in Dean’s chest is back because he doesn’t want Cas to feel ashamed or to look away. Man, he’s so fucking selfish, but he likes it when Cas looks at him. He doesn’t want him to start changing now. Not because of Dean's stupid mouth.

“No, I just mean-“ Dean shifts his body to better face him. Cas looks back up again and there they go with the staring. The eyes locked on one another saying things but also not.

What is Dean trying to say? He doesn’t know. It was more of an observation than anything. Not a scolding. But now he can’t stop thinking about it. They both look at each other so much. And that’s not normal. But somehow it’s not gay either. Is it?

“I just mean-“ Dean stops again, then abruptly stands, clapping a hand on Cas' back and grinning, "We shouldn't keep the ladies waiting."

Chapter Text

The bunker might not have a yard, but what it does have is a dirt road out front, an empty field, and no one around for miles to tell a bunch of hunters not to build a fire pit where they want to. Someone brought their grill, too, and the scent of smoke and charred meat fills the air.

Whiskey goes down, and spirits up. The sun's starting to set after a few hours of mingling and it's been awhile since Dean sought out a friendly face so he starts making the rounds. It's kinda weird though, all these hunters. A lot of them are great, but he still can't get over the fact that stories of he and Sam and Cas have been circulating for years like some kind of hunter's legend. Just by the way they talk about them, like they're meeting some kind of celebrities. Which he isn't. He's just a guy that got unlucky a lot and lucky a few times more. 

Finally, he finds Claire and Kaia settled in a couple of folding chairs beside a makeshift fire pit that's still unlit. They're cozied up close, heads touching in deep conversation, and... oh, holding hands. That's new. The two notice his approach and look up, Claire with that troublemaking smirk and Kaia more sheepish. He points at where their hands are clasped together and waves a finger between the two of them as if in question. Claire raises an eyebrow, waiting.

"So, uh, you two, huh?"

"Is that gonna be a problem, old man?" Claire asks, grinning. Kaia snorts, like there's some inside joke between the two of them that Dean's not privy to. 

"What? No. It's good. I'm glad, you know. It's not easy for us, for hunters, to find someone to be with that gets the life." Dean nods, burying his hands in his jeans pockets. "It's good to see."

"Sam and Eileen seem happy, too." Kaia nods in a direction behind Dean where Sam and Eileen are off laughing together, looking like they've had one too many and enjoying every minute of it. Dean smiles. 

"That in the cards for the 'legendary Dean Winchester'?" Claire mocks, framing the end in air quotes.

Dean rolls his eyes and laughs, "Yeah, right."

"What about Cas?" Kaia asks, brows raised innocently.

"Cas? W- No." Dean snorts, nonchalant, and rolls his eyes probably too animatedly to be a realistic casual reaction. "I'm not- Cas isn't- I'm not gay, so-"

Claire grins wide and looks at Kaia, holding in a laugh. Kaia's brows shoot even higher and she grins in tandem, "Whoa there, Romeo. I just meant does he have someone in his life. But you...?"

"Oh, no, not- he doesn't. And I don't." Dean wants out of this conversation. He doesn't want to talk about Cas' dating life. Even his potential dating life. And most certainly not his dating life in relation to Dean. "Been a little too busy with the end of the world to start dating."

Claire doesn't let it go, laughing, "So you and Cas, huh?"

"Shut-" Dean starts, right when Jack seems to pop out of nowhere, grinning ear to ear, with Cas in tow. Both have arms piled high with firewood.

"What about Dean and Cas?" Jack asks innocently, as if he doesn't already know.

"Nothing!" Dean says the same time Claire starts to say, "Dean-"

He shoots a glare at Claire and Kaia, shaking his head. Claire raises an eyebrow, smiling, challenging him. Dean can feel Cas' eyes on him and can see Cas doing his head tilt thing, looking between Dean and Claire in their silent non-conversation, Dean growing more frustrated and Claire more amused. Cas and Jack drop the fire wood in a pile near the pit.

"What's going on?" Cas asks, clearly suspicious.

Dean turns, slides past Cas, picks up a few of the discarded logs, and starts distracting by building a small fire inside of the circle of stones. "Jack, grab some of the old newspapers from the garage, will ya?"  

"Okay!" Jack disappears in a fluttering of wings, and reappears moments later with a small pile of papers in hand. "What else?"

"Uh, if you wanna help, I guess crumple a few of those into balls and stuff them between these logs." Dean points to a couple of logs he'd already placed in the center of the circle, and stands. 

He's hyperaware then, just how closely Cas is actually standing to him. There's a whole field of space that he could be standing in instead of right here. There's space next to Claire's chair just a little bit further to Cas' right. There's space behind them. There's space on the other side of the fire-pit. There's an abundance of places Cas could be standing right now but, like always, he's standing right up against Dean, their arms brushing. Is this still some socially-awkward angel carry-over? Or is it just because Cas likes Dean and likes being around him?

The thing is, Dean likes it too. He likes Cas. He likes being around him. And he never really thought about how they act around each other. Now he can't seem to stop thinking about it. Because if he can see it now, then everyone else is gonna see it and... What? They probably saw it the whole time, who's he kidding? He's the only unobservant friend who didn't see it. Which definitely means that Sam saw it, and decided to just never say anything ever. Dean's gonna pencil that in the back of his mind so he remembers to kick Sammy's ass later.  

Dean looks up and finds Cas looking at him with a fondness, smiling. "What?"

Kaia kicks her legs up onto Claire's lap and the two cuddle closer. Claire dips to the side and tugs a fresh beer from under her chair, pops it open, and wordlessly replaces Kaia's empty one. Jack starts carefully placing logs on top of the tower, finishing the pyre. Laughter and drunken conversations float over from just feet away. 

"Nothing, I'm just glad to be back. To have our family back. It feels... I don't know, content. For the first time in a long time." Cas says wistfully. 

Dean studies his face a moment, then snorts, "Are you drunk?"

"No." 

Dean doesn't believe him. Cas seems to realize this and grins. Dean grins back and laughs, patting Cas' back. 

"Man, you're such a sappy drunk."

Dean pats his own pockets down, searching for a lighter, finding none. Cas tugs one from his jeans and hands it over.

"Thanks, Cas."

Dean slaps Jack's shoulder and hands him the lighter, instructing him to light up the paper beneath the logs first. If it doesn't catch, crumple more paper and light it up again until it does.

As they watch Jack light up his first fire, Cas is still looking at Dean like that. That sappy, drunk angel who's in love with him and looks at him like that. But Dean's realizing he likes it. And he's letting himself like it. His face heats up and he stares down at the fire catching, but he can't even find it in him to pretend to react when he hears Kaia whisper to Claire, "I think they're cute." 

Or when Claire whispers back, "For a couple of old guys, maybe."

And he definitely ignores it again when Kaia says, "Look how he's looking at him. It's sweet."

Claire snorts, "I'm pretty sure they’ve always looked at each other like that. If it's not Cas with the whole heart-eye thing, it's Dean. Like a couple of schoolgirls. They just need to bone already."

Kaia giggles, and Dean doesn't hear the rest of their conversation. He's too busy hearing nothing but white noise and hoping his heated face can be explained away by the flames dancing in front of it. He lets Cas keep looking at him, and lets him keep standing so close. But just because Cas likes it. Not because Dean does. 

More start gathering around the fire as it picks up, and probably because Jack starts passing out sticks to everyone so they can make s'mores too. They'd bought up the store's entire stock of marshmallows and chocolate this morning because Jack was convinced they needed to have enough to share with an entire army. Seems he was right, though.

Pretty much everyone is wasted, swaying back and forth around the fire bellowing old rock songs alongside the stereo as if they're pirates chanting sea shanties. Dean finds himself singing along loudly to a couple songs, passing a bottle of whiskey between himself and Sam. They both sing along to an old AC/DC song at some point, Dean swaying back and forth with his arm draped over his little brother who's even farther gone than he is. Dean didn't mean to get here, but he's drunk.

Maybe it's because he's drunk that he goes searching for Cas again. 

Kaia and Claire are dancing together, and they look so happy, Dean can't help but smile. Donna and Jody, too, dance wildly, cackling at one another's loose feet and terrible moves. Several more bodies are scattered around in similar states of euphoria. Sam and Eileen aren't anywhere in sight, so hopefully Eileen finally dragged Sam's sloppy ass to bed. Dean nears the fire-pit again and finally finds Cas, sitting on a log, which wasn't there last he checked. Jack and Patience have taken Claire and Kaia's chairs, and laugh together about something while their marshmallows cook over the fire. Jesus, that kid must've had a hundred of those things by now. 

Dean plops down beside Cas on the log, their thighs brushing together. Cas is holding a marshmallow over the fire, cooking each side to golden perfection. He's probably got the timing down perfectly for it. 

"Where'd this come from?" Dean slaps the log beneath them. 

"I got it from the woods. We needed more seating." Cas watches his marshmallow intently, smiling. 

"You carried it from the woods?" 

"You seem to forget that I'm considerably stronger than you."

"Alright, bragger." Dean takes a small swig from the nearly empty whiskey bottle in his hands, and offers some to Cas. Cas takes it, swallows a significant amount, then hands it back. "Does that mean your mojo is back in action?"

"Mm, not entirely."

"That's not something Jack can fix?"

"Maybe. I haven't asked." Cas stabs his stick into the grass, the marshmallow still smoking from the top of it. He grabs a couple of graham crackers and chocolate, starting to layer the pieces together. "I've found this bit of in-between is fairly suiting for me. I'm not quite human, but also not quite angel, just... something else entirely."

Cas sandwiches the marshmallow between the two crackers, making probably one of the most perfect looking s'mores Dean has ever seen. Might as well roll the cameras and film a commercial with that thing right now. He holds it out to Dean, who looks down at it, then back at Cas smiling softly at him. Dean grins back, slowly taking the dessert. 

"I noticed you didn't have any earlier." Cas says, looking back at the fire and poking his gooey stick at the logs. 

Dean takes a bite, marshmallow surely oozing all over his cheeks. "Old guys like me gotta watch our figures, Cas, don't you ever listen to Sam?" 

"You're finally taking health advice from Sam? The world really has changed for the better."

"Har-har. I always listen, doesn't mean I always take the advice."

"Well maybe you should, I'd like for you to live, Dean."

"Trust me, if a clogged artery is what takes me out, then that's a win."

"Yes, but not for several more decades, ideally."

Dean takes another sloppy bite of the s'more. This time he's certain half of it made its way across his cheek, given how wide Cas grins as his eyes trail across his face.

"Fine. I'll eat some broccoli once a week just for you, Cas." Dean declares around a mouth full of s'more. 

"That's a substantial promise coming from you, so I appreciate it." Cas grins broadly, and it hits Dean just then that he's hardly ever seen Cas as happy as he has been today. It's a good look on him. He wants it to last. 

The fire is crackling peacefully in front of them, the logs snapping every now and again. Someone puts another log onto the pyre but Dean doesn't see who because he's too busy watching the flames swirl across Cas' face. His eyes are dark and you can barely see the blue of them, but it's there every time a particularly bright flame flickers by. 

They're doing the staring thing again, and Dean knows they should stop. He knows this isn't the way two friends look at each other. He knows this is the way Sam looks at Eileen, or Claire looks at Kaia. It's the way two people look at each other when it's not just one person in love with the other, but...

And he knows they should stop because that's not fair to Cas, but... 

The world is quiet around them. There's the mumbling words of conversations outside of their little bubble, and then there's the crickets in the field behind them. There's the wind that rustles the grass, and the creak of the folding chairs when someone adjusts their seat, and there's laughter, and there's a song from sometime in the 60s, muffled in the distance and crooning about love.

Then there's everything else. Dean's heartbeat pounding erratically in his ears, Cas' breath on his cheek, the heat of the body next to him somehow warmer than any flame that any fire could muster. And Dean lets himself imagine, just for a split second, what it would be like to touch that body. What would it be like for that body to touch him? In a way that friends shouldn't touch each other. 

And Cas is so damn close to him now, and he smells like whiskey and fire and the woods and... now he's even closer. Dean's not sure when they started leaning into one another but they did, and he's also not sure he wants to stop. No... that's a blatant lie. He's sure. He doesn't want to stop.

Cas seems to know what he's going to do before he does it because the angel's breath hitches just a bit as Dean leans in the rest of the way, and his eyes flicker to his lips for a fraction of a second, then back up.

Dean crashes his mouth onto Cas' and freezes there, almost pulling back again because holy fuck he shouldn't have done that... except Cas' mouth is so much softer than it looks and there's whiskey on his breath and he makes a noise deep in his chest that Dean's never heard before and he wants to hear it again. Then Cas leans into him and he loses all rational thought. He fists a hand in the front of Cas' shirt, tugging him in, sliding his other hand up his neck and threading into the mess of locks in the back of the angel's head and... he kisses Cas. He kisses Cas like it's the first time and like he's been doing it for years. And it's easy and new and terrifying and unfamiliar all at once. And he likes it. Because it's Cas and tastes like Cas should taste, and he can feel Cas' heart beating so fast against his chest and he knows it's because of him. 

He likes it a lot. 

He likes it too much. 

Because this isn't supposed to be something he likes. And this definitely isn't something that friends do. They crossed that territory awhile ago. 

Before he can even think about it, Dean stops. Abruptly. He shoves Cas away like he wasn't just the same person pulling him in. He shoves him away like a cheap date. Which he's not. 

Cas stops himself from falling back completely, one arm already braced on the log to stop him from tumbling backwards. Maybe he expected Dean to push him away the whole time, but just took whatever Dean would give him. That's just... entirely too sad to think about. 

He also can't stop looking at Cas now. The messed up hair, the wide eyes, his chest moving with every rapid breath. And Dean must've had marshmallow on his face because now Cas does too, just on the corner of his lips. He could just lick that off. Cas would let him, that's the crazy part. Or maybe the least crazy part of this whole thing. All the words are getting jumbled in his brain again and he can't get them straight. 

"Dean-" Cas starts, his voice somehow deeper than usual. Jesus...

Dean jolts up. He needs to get a grip.

"I'm drunk." Is all he says in explanation before turning and nearly tripping into the dying fire. He messily rights himself, barreling directly towards the bunker doors the rest of the way without looking back.

Everyone else around him is going on completely the same as they had been before. No one noticed the angel and hunter kissing in the corner in their quiet little slice of time. It’s just as well.

The metal door seems to clang shut even louder than usual, the sound echoing back and forth in Dean’s scull endlessly. 

People are still milling about in the bunker’s library. Maybe the night is still young for some of them, but Dean suddenly feels the weight of his age in every bone of his body.

Or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s spent the past three weeks drowning his liver and it’s finally starting to catch up with him. He had to have nearly died of alcohol poisoning countless times on the very floor that strangers are shuffling around on now. He knows the only reason he’s not dead is cause Chuck was still holding all the cards and he wanted Dean to suffer. Every day. And he did. 

Because dying is the fucking easy thing. Laying your life on the line and fighting the fight that has to be fought, that’s easy. But fucking living? Trying to piece together an existence with people and keep them around and rely on the fact that they’ll always be there? There’s no quick and painless way about that. Not like death where maybe it’s instant or maybe it takes a few minutes or a few hours, but no matter what you’ll get to the same finish line. 

Instead, living is all long and drawn out and messy and then people go on and die again right when you’re starting to trust that they’ll always be around. The one person you decide you want, and they go ahead and die just like everyone else because Dean Winchester doesn’t get to have those kinds of things. That’s not who he gets to be.

Chapter Text

Something burning in the kitchen offends Dean’s nostrils into consciousness. His overwhelming nausea warns that it’s far too early to be awake, but he gets up against his better judgment. The room spins sideways as he shifts to sit up, and a groan escapes his chest. 

He collapsed completely clothed on top of his bed last night, boots still on and shirt still drenched in the smell of fire.

Dean isn’t the type of lucky to have forgotten what happened last night. He might feel sick, but he didn’t black out. He remembers every second of what it was like to touch and hold and kiss Castiel and he hates it. He hates it because now he has to have those memories forever. He hates it because it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him. 

It’s the worst thing. 

He stomps down the hall more aggressively than he really needs to. Voices carry from the kitchen but soften to whispers at his approach.

”Hope you’re not setting fire to my kitchen.” He manages to gruff out, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he slips through the door.

Jody grins from the stove, “Howdy party animal. How’re you feeling today?”

Kaia is the only other person in the room, and she’s nursing a coffee in the corner of the table, leaning against the wall with her legs tucked up to her chest. She offers a small smile to Dean in greeting. He plops down at the table across from her. 

”Party-animal? Pot-Kettle, Sheriff. You were the one in a dance contest with Donna half the night.” Dean says.

”Who’s the one with the hangover, again?” 

“Touché.”

”Making pancakes, by the way.”

”Burning pancakes, you mean. I expected better from you, Jody.”

”Actually that’s my fault.” Kaia pipes in, shyly raising her hand. “Sorry.” 

Dean just shrugs and waves it off, a sleepy haziness still crowding his brain. Coffee. He needs coffee. 

He turns and makes his way to the coffee machine, finding the brew still hot and nearly full. Dean starts pouring himself a cup when Cas makes his way to the kitchen, looking like he just rolled fresh out of bed. 

“Mornin’ sunshine.” Dean grins, acting like everything is normal. Acting like his heart rate didn't just completely spike out of his chest. Acting like this morning isn't different from all the other mornings before he knew what Cas tasted like. Nope. Everything is normal. Because he was just drunk. And friends kiss each other when they're drunk sometimes. And then they just don't talk about it. Ever again. They act completely normal the next day and like nothing happened at all until they all just forget about it.

Except Dean really can't forget about it. He looks at the messy grumbling angel in front of him and his chest just feels so warm. Cas' squinty eyes like it's too bright in here, crossed arms like it's a little too chilly, and hair poking in all different directions like he tossed and turned all night. Dean wonders what kind of a sleeper Cas is. Is he the clingy kind, or the kind that moves constantly, or the kind that pushes away in their sleep but then scoots as close as humanly possible as soon as they wake up again? He also seems to have just passed out fully clothed, too, still smelling like smoke and fresh air when he slips right by Dean and slides into a seat at the table. 

Man, Cas is a grump in the morning. It’s kind of adora-

Dean shakes his head and starts pouring a second cup of coffee, as if that action alone will change the gears of the thoughts floating around in his brain. 

Spoiler alert, it doesn’t. 

He carries both mugs back to the table and slides one over to Cas before taking the seat directly next to him. Technically this had already been Dean’s seat so really Cas is the one that sat next to him first. Technically. 

Cas gives him the warmest smile in thanks, wrapping both hands around the mug. He takes a sip, closing his eyes, just having a moment to himself.

Dean pauses, cup halfway raised to his mouth. His eyes glide over Cas’ disheveled appearance, stealing this moment because he can and because Cas doesn’t know he’s looking.

He wants to reach over and slide a hand through the angel’s hair and fix that lock sticking in a weird angle just behind his ear. He wants to move closer and see what it feels like to press against Cas’ side when he’s freshly awake like this. He must be so warm.

Cas doesn’t sleep that much, so this sight is a rare one all on its own. It means Cas is probably hungover too. They could both just go back to bed. They could go back to Dean’s bed. Lay together. Just lay together, warm body against warm body, heavy in sleep. 

Friends could do that kind of thing together. Lay in the same bed. That’s not weird. Except maybe it’s weird for them since that’s not a thing Dean Winchester just does. Or has ever done. At motels maybe, just out of necessity, but never just to be around a guy. He’s not a thirteen year old girl at a sleepover. 

So, yeah, maybe it’s not a thing that these friends do.

God, why is Dean fighting this so much? Because he’s not gay. He’s not. 

Then why did he kiss Cas? Why did he like it so much. 

Why does he want to do it again? Right now. Completely sober in the light of day.

He watches Cas inhale a deep breath, take another sip of coffee and finally set down the mug, opening his eyes. His gaze immediately slides to Dean, feeling the eyes on him. Dean jerks his vision away, coffee spilling over the edge of the mug he's still holding in mid-air while just staring at Cas for way too long like some kind of weirdo. He doesn’t even bother trying to cover up the movement. Just takes a large gulp and sets the cup down loudly, staring at the tiny puddle of coffee on the table in front of him.

Kaia snorts a giggle into her own mug. Dean glares up at her but she just raises her eyebrows innocently. 

Luckily, Jody saves the day for the second time this morning and cuts through the heavy air with an offering of pancakes. She slides a plate to Kaia first, and the second to Dean. They both mumble their thanks, drowning the flapjacks in syrup and digging in immediately. 

“You want some, sweetie?” Jody asks, peeking back at Cas while heading back to the stove.

”I don’t need to eat.”

”That’s not what I asked. You don’t need that coffee either, but you’re drinking it, Mr. Angel.” She waves a spatula at him, “So, do you want some or not? I’m finishing up this batch either way.”

”In that case, yes, I’ll try some. Thank you.” He nods in appreciation.

”You’ve never had pancakes before?” Kaia asks through a mouth nearly full.

”No, when I was human I tended to stick to non-perishable foods. I didn’t have a stove so I seldom ate anything freshly cooked.”

She swallows, then asks, “When was this?”

”Several years ago. I tend to not eat now because it’s generally... less than pleasurable. There’s too many tastes.. it’s overwhelming. Simple things, though, are not bad.” He raises his mug, “Like coffee.”

”You’ll prob’ly like may’le syrup. It’s na’ural. I ‘et the best kind the store’s got. No ar’ificial crap.” Dean pipes in, mouth full.

“You were homeless?” Kaia asks, direct. Kid sure knows how to read between the lines. She points her fork at Dean accusingly, “Weren’t you around?” 

Dean lowers his head and swallows, grumbling, “It’s complicated.”

“There was a lot going on at the time, it wasn’t Dean’s fault.” Cas touches Dean’s shoulder reassuringly for just a moment, then lets his hand drop. 

“Should’ve sent him to my house.” Jody pipes in, grinning, “I seem to be the resident orphan collector these days.”

”Who you calling an orphan?” Claire pads through the door, yawning, and heads straight for the coffee machine to start up a fresh batch. She nods in Cas’ direction, “My dad’s right there. Kind of.” 

Jody finishes up the final bit of batter and doles out a plate for herself, Cas, and Claire, still leaving behind a couple of towering stacks on the counter.

”Geez, Jod, go a little crazy, there?” Dean laughs.

”Just made the whole box. Figured there’d be enough hungry hunters around here that won’t let it go to waste.” 

She takes the seat at the end of the table beside Cas, and Claire plops down beside Kaia, giving her a swift peck on the cheek before overloading her pancakes in syrup and digging in. Cas takes the syrup next and slowly drizzles it in a swirl, mimicking Claire’s action. He nearly drowns them too but Dean holds out a hand to stop him. When Cas looks up questioningly, Dean just shakes his head, takes the syrup, and slides it down to Jody. 

Cas pokes the short stack, and watches the way Claire cuts off a piece with her fork before he mimics that action, too. She notices him copying her and smiles like she’s holding in a laugh. 

It’s probably odd seeing the guy in your dad’s meat suit eating pancakes for the first time in the most sheepish and adorable way possible, when in another life she would’ve been the one to copy his movements like a kid usually does with their dad. Maybe she did once, and these quirks of hers came from Jimmy. Now here she is passing them back to Cas in some weird kind of full-circle.

Cas takes a bite and Dean realizes everyone else is looking at the angel too, waiting to see his reaction to a first time food. He grunts in approval and takes another bite, nodding.

”Interesting.” He says, and scoops up another bite drenched in more syrup.

”That's Cas speak for pretty good,” Dean says, giving Jody a thumbs up. “I’d say, seven out of ten. Not quite as good as buttered popcorn, but not as bad as lasagna.”

Cas raises his eyebrows and looks at him, “Actually, yes.” He goes back to his meal, grinning. “That lasagna had far too many flavors. This is very good, actually. Thank you.” 

A few moments pass before Claire clears her throat and gets right to business.

“So, you guys got leads on any hunts close by?” She peers at both men across the table, shoveling another fork full of flapjack into her mouth.

“Uh, no, I’m on vacation mode for at least a week. Just beat God, remember? I think that earns me a bit of R&R.” Dean stands to grab the coffee pot. 

“I think we should all cash in a few vacation days.” Jody says pointedly.

Claire rolls her eyes. Dean snags the coffee pot and brings it to the table, refilling his own mug, then Cas and Kaia’s. Both nod to him in thanks.

”If you’d like to go on a hunt, Claire, I would join you if you like.” Cas says, completely out of nowhere.

”No.” Dean hates now much he sounds like a parent deciding that their kid isn’t going out to the mall with their friends but, just no. “You just came back from the dead, you’re taking a vacation too.”

”Technically we all just came back from the dead, so I hear.” Kaia sips her coffee.

Dean sips his own, looking at no one. “Yeah, well, yours was temporary, his wasn’t.”

”Am I not alive again? Seems like it was temporary to me.” Cas pierces him with a glare. 

Dean glares right back, “Yeah, well, everyone else was kicking it in heaven having a spa day. We weren’t even sure if we could get you back.”

Claire breaks the tension by punching Cas in the shoulder across the table. If he were human it might’ve actually bruised pretty bad from the looks of it. “What the hell? You died? And you-" She reaches over and punches Dean’s shoulder, too, adding more spilt coffee to the puddle in front of him, and yep, that’s gonna bruise.

”Ow, what the hell?” He protests, gripping his arm, the same time she whines, ”You didn’t tell me?”

”Sorry I didn’t dig out the Ouija board to inform you of your not-dad’s trip to the empty.”

She just glares at him. "You know what I mean. You didn't even tell me the last time. I had to find out from some second-rate hunter talking smack about you two."

"Hope you punched them for it." Dean grumbles. 

"Oh, I definitely did." 

"Geez, how many times have you guys died?" Kaia says incredulously, mostly to herself, but Cas acknowledges it anyway.

"Several times." He says, taking another bite of food, swallowing, and adding, now to Claire, "I'm sorry, I seem to have more of an effect on people's lives than I realized. But please don't blame Dean. As I understand, he doesn't handle my deaths well."

"Aww." Kaia pipes in, grinning, eyes flashing between the two men.

"Shut up." Dean clears his throat, "Yeah, so, if you wanna punch someone again, go find Sam. He makes those calls."

"Don't think I won't." She says, turning back to Cas, "And don't think I won't punch you again either."

"I'll let you know the next time I intend to be killed." Cas smiles. Claire doesn't seem to think that's funny, and Dean's inclined to agree.

Nothing like some light, normal conversation early on a Tuesday morning.

“O-Kay...” Jody clears her throat and slaps a hand on the table. “I think we all need a little downtime. Something to lift the spirits, huh? Girls, what about that carnival we passed on the way down here? We can just take the day and then after that if we’re still feeling antsy, we can all talk about getting back to the hunt, yes?”

Claire grumbles and frowns down at the table but it’s not an outright no. Kaia shoves her shoulder against her girlfriend, smiling, and Claire starts to lighten up, groaning out a “Fine.”

“I’m sure Jack would like that, too.” Cas concedes.

And just like that it’s decided.

It’s another couple of hours before everyone who stayed the night gets up and attem. Dean’s never felt more like a suburban dad corralling the kids than he has this morning. Alex and Donna flit through the kitchen, tidying up the last of Jody’s pancake mess while Eileen scarfs down the remaining leftovers. A couple of people are running the showers cold based on how long the pipes have been creaking. It’s all wet hair, shouts to one another down the hall, and urgings back and forth to hurry up. Like something out of Home Alone. Dean secretly loves it.

They take three separate cars. Dean, Cas, Sam and Eileen all pile into the impala, while Donna takes Patience, Jody, Alex and Jack in the "D-Train." Claire and Kaia take Claire’s old beater. It’s not a two seater but it’s so crammed full of half of Claire’s things it might as well be.

Sam sits in the back next to Eileen, which makes sense, so Dean can’t really say anything when Cas takes shotgun right beside him. Smelling like Dean’s shampoo... because apparently showering is also a thing he does now. Just like wearing Dean's clothes. And making Dean hyperaware of every one of his movements just by being in his presence.

For some reason a small part of Dean thinks anytime the angel moves he's gonna reach out and touch him. Of course he doesn’t, though. Which leaves Dean equal parts relieved and disappointed.

Why would he touch Dean, anyway? 

Because he’s in love with him.

But no, Cas isn’t just gonna go around feeling Dean up just because he’s in love with him. He’s classier than that.

How long has he felt this way, even? Months? Years? They go months without touching each other at all sometimes. Maybe Cas doesn’t like to be touched. Maybe it’s not his thing. He sure liked it with April and Meg... Or did he? Maybe not. Maybe his whole thing is just eye contact. Looking deep into the soul and all that. Like Vulcans with their whole hands thing. Cause Cas is basically an alien, too. Dean doesn’t even know what he really looks like. He could have four heads and sixteen eyes for all he knows.

Does Cas actively want Dean? Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he just loves Dean in like a more than platonic way but less than romantic one. What would that look like? Isn’t that what they’ve already been all along? Crap, did Cas even like getting kissed by Dean last night? He seemed to. He responded to it. He made all those noises and... But he also seemed like he was braced for a fight the whole time too. God, what if Cas didn’t like it at all and Dean just basically drunkenly assaulted his best friend because he misread the signals and Cas is too nice to even say anything about it. 

He can’t kiss Cas again now. Not that he was planning on it. 

Not that he wants to.

Fuck. 

Fuckfuckfuck...

Dean must be gripping the wheel a little too tight or sitting a little too stiff, because he feels a tentative hand on his shoulder that instantly lowers all that tension. When he looks over at Cas, his eyes are softened with a wordless concern that's so genuine, Dean finds himself pulling in a shaky breath. He leans back, sits up straight, loosens his grip on the wheel, and even lets a hand drop to his thigh.

Cas, ever a man of angelic grace, shifts in his own seat, bringing one leg up to tuck under the other. This adjusts him closer to Dean so minimally that even Dean himself doesn't notice until Cas reaches out his hand to steal Dean's from atop his thigh. He just holds Dean's hand there, in the little island of the seat in between them, rubbing his thumb over the back of Dean's knuckles. 

His body tells him to flee. It tells him to take his hand back. He looks down at their hands entwined, Dean so stiffly just letting it happen when he could- should pull back. He looks back up to Cas. The look on the angel's face erases all thoughts of flight, because right there he sees deep blue eyes drawn so openly in uncertainty and worry over Dean's reaction that Dean softens his eyes, tightens his fingers around the angel's grip and turns back to the road.

He doesn't let go of Cas' hand the rest of the ride.

Dean finds himself sitting down for lunch with Kaia, feasting on a loaded hot dog, bacon burger, and fried dough all at once, while a few feet away Claire and Cas compete at a basketball dunk game sinking as many as possible in one minute. They're currently on the second round in their "best out of five" run. They're pretty evenly matched, surprisingly.

"You guys better hurry up!" Dean takes a bite of his hot dog, rapidly followed by a mouthful of fried dough while he's still chewing. 

Kaia watches on with wide eyes, "It's not gonna run away, you know, you can slow down."

"Shut up." 

She laughs and watches Claire and Cas for a minute more, "It's pretty crazy. I'm not sure I'd be able to handle all this like Claire has."

"What?"

"I mean, he basically killed her dad and took his face. And she's hanging out with the guy." She shakes her head incredulously, pops a fry in her mouth, crunches it, "Trippy."

"It was hard going for awhile there. She's a strong kid. Both of you are." Dean looks back at the two, each trying to mess up one another's shots into the baskets, hitting arms and laughing. He can't help but smile, too. "Cas is a hard guy to hate once you get to know him."

He turns back to the table and Kaia is peering at him with a knowing look on her face. She leans in, crosses her arms before plopping them onto the table, and lowers her voice like they're trading secrets, "I hope you don't take this the wrong way or get upset, but... you love him, don't you?"

He stops mid-chew, rolling his eyes, "Why does everyone think-"

"Come on, humor me. Pinky promise I won't tell." Kaia extends out one arm, pinky raised, smirking, a hardness to her eyes. She's joking but also not.

Dean sighs, gently smacking her hand away. He picks apart another piece of fried dough and combines it with some fries from Cas' plate beside him, "It's not like that."

"Why not?" She says it simply. Easily. Like it's an easy question and has an easy answer. As if life worked like that at all. 

"Why-" He snorts a laugh, but the sincerity just misses, "I just don't." 

"It wouldn't be bad, you know... if you did."

"I know that."

"But you don't know it." She considers him, "That's the problem, huh? You're scared."

"Okay, The Mentalist. What's it matter to you?" He takes a full bite of his burger, ketchup and pickle sloughing out the side and onto his cheek and hands. 

"It doesn't, I guess, just..." She shrugs, softening her voice, "You shouldn't stop yourself from caring about someone just cause you think they'll leave eventually. Believe me. I worry about Claire all the time, too."

"If you start quoting some 'it's better to have loved and lost' crap, save it-"

"Well, isn't it?"

"No. I know. I lived it. He dies-" Dean takes a breath, focusing back on his burger, "It's worse every time."

"Maybe cause you had to live knowing you never got a chance to tell him how you felt."

It's not just something she's saying, he realizes, it's something she's lived, too. He doesn't have a safe response to it. Kaia doesn't look like she expects one, either. She smiles up at him sweetly, almost pityingly, and a silence drops between them. It's a comfortable silence, not awkward, but Dean is thankful regardless when Cas and Claire return to their seats at the table. 

"Geez, any of that actually make it into your mouth?" Claire laughs, pointing at Dean's mess of a face. 

"Just saving some for later." He grins, then remembers, "Oh, Cas! Here, try this."

Dean tugs a paper plate from the opposite edge of the table and plops it over in front of the angel. Cas stares down at the crispy, golden bread doused in powdered sugar, and leans down to sniff it. He looks back at Dean unsure, but Dean grins wide and nods. Gingerly, Cas picks up the entire loaf and takes a large bite. 

"Very... sweet." Brow furrowed, he seems to deliberate before taking another bite and smiling, "Hmm." He nods. 

Dean grins wide at the guy's messily powdered cheeks and wants to wipe it off just to have an excuse to touch his face. Cas looks like he might have a bit of a sunburn, too. A soft pink tingeing to his nose and cheeks. Maybe that's another new human thing Dean will have to pay attention to. Or maybe it's a blush, because Cas is looking back at Dean with that soft look in his eye like Dean introducing him to some 2$ sugared bread is a memory he's gonna cherish forever. Maybe he will. Dean knows he will. But then again, he has plenty of moments like this with Cas filed away for when he needs them most. Some days these little moments feel more important than anything else cause they're glimpses of what a happy life should be. What it could be if he was a different guy that could have different things. Things more than just moments, but lifetimes.  

A shutter sounds from across the table. Both men turn simultaneously to see Claire and Kaia with heads dipped close together behind a phone they've aimed directly at Dean and Cas. Claire makes a show of handing Kaia the phone to better inspect the picture.

"Think we'll still look at each other like that when we're old and wrinkly?" Kaia teases, planting a sloppy kiss on the side of Claire's face when she hands back the phone.

Claire giggles, squirming away from Kaia landing kiss after messy kiss on the side of her face. The phone clatters to the table when Claire dives to the side to evade, and wraps both arms around Kaia's middle to pin their bodies together. She enacts her revenge by kissing her girlfriend's cheek aggressively while the girl shrieks in laughter. 

Dean picks up the phone from the table. There, in their little moment frozen in time, this Dean and that Cas get to look at each other like... that. Dean sees the mess of food on his own face in the image and absently wipes it away here in the real world.

Dean knows the way that Cas looks at him. He hears the way people describe it, too. And he gets now why everyone seems to mock that he's in love with Dean. But what Dean isn't ready for is the look on his own face. How he looks at Cas. Because the way that he looks at him... how did Cas ever utter the words the one thing I want, is something I know I can't have, and believe them to be true when Dean looks at him like that. Because it's so transparent, it's so clear and obvious...

Claire swipes the phone back before Dean can even hope to react, and she lands him with a devilish smirk. "Don't worry, I'll send it to you."

"Thanks." Dean mutters, adjusting in his seat.

So obvious...

But Cas was also right... because he doesn't have Dean. Not really. Not in the way he wants to. 

But it's just... maybe if things were different. 

If they were a different Dean and Cas on a different world. 

Luckily, they're interrupted by Jack jogging up excitedly to tell Cas about some game he won. The kid slides onto the bench beside Cas, pushing he and Dean thigh to thigh. Patience sidles in beside Claire and Kaia, and eventually the rest of their merry band of misfits find their way to the picnic tables. Sam and Donna tug a second table right up next to the first. Dean realizes that Jack has to try some fried dough, so he runs back to the cart to snag several more orders. Turns out it's Patience's first time, too. She ends up ordering a second, and when she's so stuffed she can't eat any more, Cas snags the leftovers, trying to be discreet about it. He doesn't like to encourage Dean's unhealthy eating habits, so he hides it sometimes when he secretly loves a junky food just as much as Dean does. This only makes Dean laugh.

Chapter Text

The sky sinks into a dark pink, air cooling around the carnival while twinkle-lights flicker to life above their heads. Laughter, feet padding excitedly across dirt, bells, whistles, and the whining grind of metal tracks, all settle in the air as a kind of soundtrack to the winding down of the day.    

Dean catches up to Sam and startles him with a shout and two hands slapping on the giant's shoulders. Sam swings around, braced for a fight before realizing it's only Dean wearing a shit-eating grin. "C'mon man!"

"Ah, lighten up. Here- won this for you." Dean tugs a large stuffed moose from under his arm and holds it out to his brother.

"What am I, your date?" Sam scoffs, but smiles at Dean's excitement and takes the thing anyway.

"Careful, I could go back. Cas talked me out of a particularly nice looking clown doll..."

"I'm... over the clown thing." Sam shifts.

"Uh-huh." Dean nods, eyeing him.

"So how are you and Cas, anyway?" 

"Good. Great." He shoves his hands into his pockets and steps in line beside Sam, matching his leisured pace. 

They walk together for a minute, heading back towards the games. Donna and Cas are currently challenging for the best prize at the balloon darts stand a few paces ahead. A tired mom brushes past the brothers, holding a sleeping kid in her arms, his drooping head tucked into her shoulder. The girls are competing with the squirt guns even further ahead, bells panging all the while until a buzzer cries out and is immediately replaced by Alex shrieking and pumping her fist in the air with the final ding ding ding. The crowd is starting to thin, less children running about and more teenagers on dates holding hands for the first time and stealing kisses in dark corners. 

Sam breaks the silence, "Who ever thought we'd get here, huh?" 

"Hmm?" Dean looks at him. 

"Just... it feels like things are calm first the first time... well... ever. I actually feel like I might live past forty, you know. It feels like there's..." He pauses, searching for a word.

"A future?" Dean finishes, nodding. 

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

They pause again, just standing together and soaking in the life of the moment for what it is. Both realizing together that their short lives might not have to be so short anymore.

Sam breaks the silence the second time, looking down at his shoes anxiously, "Listen, I think I'm gonna take a break from hunting for a bit. Both me and Eileen are. Just while things are slow, you know?"

Dean knows that this statement isn't a real "break," it's a "this is my exit" without actually saying it. It's an exit without the formal goodbye or the asking permission. It's an exit where in three months life will be different from what it's been for their past thirty-some-odd years. But neither of the brothers will resent the other for their choices from hereon out. It's an exit saying, I want this, and I hope you want it for me too. But they don't say any of that because this isn't one of their exits that requires goodbyes or deathbed promises, it's a start to a life. 

He claps his baby brother on the back and smiles up at him, "Take all the time you need, man. I'm proud of you."

And he is. He really is. Sam is Dean's greatest accomplishment in this world. Of course, he can't take all the credit. A lot of it is just Sammy himself, but he hopes that some parts of him got that way because of Dean, too. He loves that kid so much his heart nearly breaks from it sometimes. Sam is good. Pure and simple. A better man than Dean could ever hope to be, and he deserves this. He deserves Eileen. He deserves a life and a family. And now he gets to have it because they finally earned that freedom.

Silence drops again and Dean's eyes find their way to Cas, like they seem to do a lot lately. The angel is grinning ear to ear beside Donna, who lands a dart easily and jumps up in excitement. She holds up her hands for double high fives, and Cas is a little slow on the uptake but lands on the right conclusion and slaps tentative hands against hers. She hollers a "whoop," startling Cas into a laugh. Dean finds himself grinning so hard his cheeks are stiff. 

"What do you think about me and Cas?" The words slip out of Dean's mouth before he has a chance to even consider how they sound. But, they're out there now, so...

"Um, you're gonna have to be more specific." Sam sounds like he's trying very hard to tread carefully, but his tone alone proves he knows exactly what this conversation is about.

"You know, don't you?" Dean looks at his brother, searching his face, "About how he feels about me."

Sam says it all by saying nothing. No shock, no confusion, no "what feelings?" Just a deep breath like he's been waiting for this for a long time. "I've... had some suspicions over the years."

"Yeah..." His eyes drift back to Cas starting up a ring toss battle with Claire. Dean doesn't know what else to do with this. He started the conversation but there's nothing else to say. Just confirming the same information at this point.

"What are... your feelings... on that?" Sam speaks slowly, like he's unsure if Dean wants to be asked the question or if he'll freak out at it.

Dean scoffs, rolling his eyes, putting back up a front, "Nothing. I-" He stops, because it's not nothing, and it's not fair to Cas to say it is. So he gives the most truthful answer he can instead, "I don't know. I never knew, I-"

"Does it surprise you?"

Again, Dean doesn't say anything. He's just watching Cas, hoping an answer will fall out of the fucking sky so he doesn't have to say it himself. 

Sam fixes him with an empathetic look, "Dean, I don't know what your reservations are here and I know I don't know all the crap that's gone on between you guys over the years, but if I have any two cents to add, it's this: Cas has always been important to me. Always will be. But he's always been something different for you, Dean. He just has. You deserve to be happy more than anyone and for whatever it's worth, I think, for you... he's it."

Dean draws in a sharp breath, looking up to meet Sam's gaze, head swirling with those words and a sudden inability to actually comprehend them. He might be short circuiting. He's waiting for Sam to say something else. To take it back. But he doesn't. And he's not.

"It's not like that."  He manages to utter out, looking away again, "For... for me, anyway."

Sam claps a hand on his shoulder and looks at him like he doesn't really believe that. Dean doesn't even believe it anymore. He's just saying things. Trying to get out of it. Trying not to feel this way. But Sam doesn't call him out on it, either. Not this time. 

"Okay, but if it was, that'd be okay. You know that right? We're not under Chuck's thumb anymore, but we're also not under Dad's."

Dean scoffs and evades his eyes, shrugging Sam's hand off of him. His face is getting a little too hot. Dad is the absolute last person he wants to be thinking about right now. He doesn't want to think about how dad would've reacted had he seen what went down at the BBQ last night. He doesn't want dad's opinion on Cas taking his hand in the Impala. He doesn't want dad to ever know that Dean wants these things- Because he knows it's okay. He knows it's okay. But he hates that small part of him that still thinks dad was right and he's lesser in every way because of the way he feels about his best friend. Because of the things he thinks about him. Because of the places he wants to touch him... He knows it's okay, just sometimes he wishes he wasn't someone who has to wonder if it is. 

He plasters on a grin, "You're not gonna give me the whole 'love who you wanna love' speech, are you?" 

"Do I have to?" Sam smiles, then sobers, "Look... you guys have been dancing around each other for years, man. It drives me crazy, sitting in the middle watching you two bicker like an old married couple but not seeing what's actually going on between you. Maybe it didn't always line up right and you guys just kept missing each other but... there's not really an excuse anymore. Dad's not here. Chuck's not here. Cas is alive... D'you think I wasn't terrified to start something with Eileen after watching nearly every woman I cared about die? After seeing her die? It's not easy, man. No one ever said it would be. And I get it, I do. Knowing what it's like to live with them gone? Having to bury them? You don't just shake something like that off. But good things do happen, Dean, and you can let yourself have them."   

Dean just nods at that, his eyes starting to sting. He clears his throat and slaps on a smile, "Well I'm glad you got yours."

Sam's eyes shine, and he looks over at Eileen a few booths over. Dean pats his brother on the back and leaves him to join his girlfriend, while Dean finally makes his way back to Cas' company before this turns into too big of a chick flick moment. He realizes he and Cas have spent mostly the whole day together, while everyone else has kind of split off into different groups throughout the day. He had fun with the others too, but he just wanted to be around Cas. He hadn't even thought about it. Didn't seem like Cas had either. 

Cas grins at his approach, and Dean can't help but to do the same, Sam's words swirling around in the back of his head. Is Cas his happiness? Is that the happy ending in the cards for him? He's Cas' happiness. That's a fact of the universe. It's the whole reason Cas was taken by the empty. Because Dean is his happiness. Or at least the root of it. And that's a lot. That's big.

But Cas does make Dean happy, too. Maybe that alone is enough for right now and he can figure out the rest later.

"This is for you," Cas holds out a small keychain with a charm of Fred Jones smiling up at him.

"Dude, why Fred? " Dean laughs, but hands it back, "I'm not a keychain guy, you should put it on yours."

Cas hands it over again, narrowing his eyes, "Fred is not my friend."

Dean laughs at Cas' serious tone and finally takes the charm, adding it to the Impala's keys, "Well he's not mine either, FYI."

"You have a respect for him." He pauses, "Besides, it was the only one left. It seems that many others agree with your opinion that he is the least of that friendship group. Though you two are actually very similar in retrospect."

'Okay, now you're just being mean."

"Fred holds the group together. His positive attitude, despite his plans failures, keeps the group searching for further ways to solve the problem. If Fred were not around, the group would revert to a power struggle because though Velma is clearly the most intelligent, Daphne's ideas hold equal weight-"

"You're putting yourself in as Velma in this comparison, aren't you?"

"No, if anything, I'm Daphne-"

"In what world?"

"This one. Sam is the most intellectually driven of the three of us, and I am generally the one who needs aid getting out of a situation with a questionable creature."

"That's not-" It's kind of true. Cas must read it on Dean's face because he smiles, but Dean redirects, "So you're calling yourself the damsel?"

"Not in so many words-"

Dean ignores him, "So you're the damsel in distress, Sam's the loveable nerd, and I'm the idiot jock-"

"You're not an idiot-"

"Fred's plans always fail, you said it yourself."

"That is hardly the only thing I said. He keeps the morale for the rest of the group and despite the occasional downfalls of his character, he is clearly valued."

"You're-" Dean stops, noticing Cas rubbing his arms and the goosebumps rising on them, "Are you cold?"

"I-" Cas drops his hands rapidly, then brings them back up to cross over his chest, head dipping down, "Yes, a bit."

"Come on," Dean leads Cas the opposite direction from the rest of the group, back towards the more deserted areas of the park where the lot is. As they're walking he has the stupid thought to strip off his own flannel and hand it over to the angel... but what is he, a kid with his prom date? No. Cas will survive the fifty foot walk to the car, thanks. 

"Who's the Scooby and Shaggy of us, then?"

"We have no cowardly friends." Cas pauses, "Jack, however, is clearly Scrappy."

Dean throws his head back, laughing.

It's not until they make it to the Impala, and Cas is shrugging on one of Dean's canvas jackets, that he really starts to think about the implications behind an angel actually feeling the elements. "You're not alright, are you Cas?"

"I'm fine now, Dean."

"I mean, it's your grace, right?" Cas makes a face and Dean just shakes his head, giving him a look, "Don't lie to me, man. Since when do you get cold? Just- be straight with me. You're not dying, are you?"

Cas sighs, shaking his head almost sadly, "No. Of course not. You don't need to worry about me."

"Seems like I hardly do anything but worry about you, Cas."

"There's no need." He says, tilting his head at Dean, "I'm fine."

"Yeah, except when you're not." Dean sighs, running a hand down his face. He considers a moment. He thinks about what Sam said. And what Kaia said. And Jack. What everyone in their damn lives seems to be saying. And he tries to let himself believe for a second that this is something that he can have, but keeps getting in his own way.

"I used to think you were invincible, man." He continues, "Not completely, but it just seemed for the longest time like nothing could really get to you. The longer you stuck around us, the more you got stuck with a bad hand. If it wasn't taking on Sam's crazy then it was Lucifer or something else. It's all just- always all in my mind, all that crap. You say I changed you like it's something good but it feels sometimes like all I've brought you is pain and... and crap."

He kicks a rock ahead of them. It bounces off a metal panel with a pang and settles easily in the dirt. Silence settles with it until Cas breaks it with a sigh. 

"Oh, Dean." Cas shakes his head and looks up at him with nothing but kindness, "There has been a great deal of pain and misfortune since I turned against heaven, but there has also been an unfathomable amount of love. When I was just a simple seraph doing a job, I watched humanity for hundreds of years. Back then I could never understand the emotion that led humans into action. And I met you and everything you chose to do was so driven in protecting not just people you loved, but even complete strangers. You just cared. It was fascinating to me how one man could have threat of death carried upon him nearly every day, yet still fight as hard as you did. That's what you taught me. There's always going to be...crap, but with it comes things far better. Love... compassion... family...

"I have never once regretted the choices that have led me into your kinship, Dean. I don't know what more I can say to convince you that you're not the poison you think you are. If anything, you gave me life. It's because of you I have so many people who I care for and who care for me in turn. After all my time alive, I'd rather die today a broken angel with all of that, than live a thousand more years and never know what it was like to love and be loved by you." 

Dean sucks in a breath, completely overwhelmed. Here he is again with Cas standing in front of him, telling him how much he loves him and how good Dean is, and Dean just doesn't know what to do with that. It's too much. And his first instinct is to write it all away as a lie or an exaggeration but he can't... not when Cas is looking at him like that. So earnestly and completely unabashed. Because that's just Cas and Cas wouldn't lie to Dean like that. He believes every word he's saying... which just overwhelms Dean all over again because Cas really really loves Dean. A former 'Angel of the Lord' in love with Dean Winchester, an emotionally stunted old hunter who drinks too much and has barely made an honest living in his life. Cas is so out of Dean's league it's stupid.

"Jesus, Cas..." Dean breathes finally, breaking his gaze away to look down at his shoes. "You can't just say stuff like that..."

Cas slowly raises a hand up and gingerly caresses Dean's jaw with the lightest feather of a touch to guide his eyes back up to his own. Dean lets him. "You're a good man, Dean Winchester. You clearly don't hear it enough so I'm going to have to keep saying it whether you like it or not." 

Dean snorts and Cas grins, letting his hand drop.

And it's that little thing that gets him. Cas doesn't expect anything from Dean. He doesn't need anything. He doesn't say these nice things just to get Dean into bed like all the girls over the years that succeeded and a lot more who tried. But that's not Cas. He's saying these things for Dean. Because he thinks Dean needs to hear them. He has no ulterior motive and that's fucking terrifying because everyone has an ulterior motive. Everyone needs Dean for something. They need him for sex. They need him to be their soldier. They need him to raise Sammy. They need him and don't ask what he wants, because he does it and he's expected to. And here Cas is smiling at Dean like Dean is the fucking sun, loving him and expecting nothing in return for it. That's... that's just...

Man... he does love him. 

Dean loves Cas. Everyone's been fucking right the whole time. He loves him so much it terrifies him. And he's not worth Cas' love. As much as the angel keeps trying to convince him he is, Dean can't help but keep thinking the guy can do so much better than him. He deserves someone that can own up to the fact that they're in love with him. He deserves someone that is just as nice and understanding and patient and forgiving as Cas always is. He deserves someone that doesn't make him watch stupid movies that he probably doesn't even like. He deserves someone that knows what the fuck he's talking about when he says shit about bees. He just deserves so much and Dean's not sure he can ever give him even a fraction of it. 

What he can do right now is give him one thing, though. A moment. He can do that. Because Dean Winchester is shit with words. Because Dean Winchester is a man of action. That's how he shows people he cares. That's how he'll show Cas he cares. 

Dean brings a hand to Cas' cheek, sliding his thumb lightly up the angel's cheekbone. He moves in closer and feels Cas' heart thrumming erratically beneath his fingertips as they brush the angel's neck. Cas stares, just stares at Dean, and he's completely frozen, but when Dean is mere inches away his eyes flutter closed with a stuttered breath. He brings both hands up to grasp at Dean's flannel, just holding on. Dean brings his lips to Cas' opposite cheek, planting the lightest of kisses beneath his eye. 

"You're good too, Cas" He breathes, resting his forehead on the other man's and closing his eyes. They stand like that, Dean gripping one side of Cas' face and leaning into the other, the two of them wordlessly in love in a dirty corner of a carnival parking lot. And Dean makes it happen because a hunter's life isn't made of much but it's made of moments. This is one of the best. 

It's when Cas swallows dryly that Dean starts to move again, gently prodding his nose against Cas' and their lips just a breath apart. He brings his hand to lightly brush against Cas' neck, feeling the rise of goosebumps his fingertips cause.

"This okay?" The words are just barely there, but Cas hears them all the same.

"Yes-"

It's different this time. Maybe because they're both sober. Maybe because Cas isn't braced and waiting for Dean to push him away this time. Maybe because they're both less afraid. It doesn't matter the reason, because whatever it is, this time is different. 

Dean kisses Cas softly at first, barely grazing his lips, then sinking in gently, falling deeper and deeper towards one another. Stubbled chin against stubbled chin. Dean flicks his tongue across Cas' bottom lip, and Cas tugs his entire body close, one arm wrapping around Dean and settling on his lower back. He's pulling their bodies hard together and everything just unleashes from there. Twelve years of tension and loss and friendship and love between these two creatures who in every other universe never meant as much to each other as they do in this one. Defying every one of God's stupid plans and every rule of the universe- an angel falling for a human in every way imaginable, and that human falling right back. 

It's Cas who starts in more urgently, kissing Dean hard. Kissing Dean like he's probably wanted to kiss him for years. And Dean moans against him, grinding his hips against Cas until they fall against the side of the Impala. Cas ruts against Dean in response, and Dean's gripping Cas' hair fiercely with one hand, sliding the other behind Cas' back to cement chest against chest. Cas grunts at the movement and anchors Dean's body before swiftly turning on his heel and shoving Dean against the car. He unlocks their mouths to mark a fiery trail of kisses down Dean's jaw, all the way down the nape of his neck. His breath on Dean's skin sends chills down his entire body-- but true to a hunter's life, this all only lasts a moment- because something violently tears Cas' body off of Dean and he doesn't even have a fraction of a second to react before another body is on top of him, this one cold and full of fang.

Dean shoves the creature off, cementing a kick deep in its torso. The vampire tumbles to the ground. Cas is grappling with his own creature in the dirt but Dean can't let himself worry about it yet because they need weapons. He hauls ass to the back of the Impala, shoving the key into the trunk, but the vampire is faster and throws him into the dirt, trying to chomp into his neck. Dean manages a head-butt, and this only stuns him a moment but it's enough. He uses it to free one hand just enough to land a solid punch in its jaw, and another, and another, until he turns the tide and clamors on top of the vampire, landing a couple more solid punches, ensuring it stays down this time.

Back at the trunk, Dean moves fast, opening it and grabbing the first two weapons he sees. Cas' angel blade is right on top, and a machete lies just to the right of it. He grabs them both, barely sparing a second before he's rounding the car to Cas' side. 

Cas is no longer pinned to the ground, but there's more bodies than just one going up against him now. One woman is holding him from behind, while another fights against Cas' flying punches. Dean eliminates the man first, a clean slice through his neck with the blade. He's not sure why the woman hasn't dug her teeth into Cas' neck yet, but he's grateful if only for a second.

While the woman is shrieking in grief over her dead friend, Cas uses the moment to his advantage, reaching up and grabbing her shoulders. He digs in his grip and bends forward, launching her up and over, into the dirt in front of him where Dean finishes her off. Dean hands over the angel blade and Cas nods his thanks, both men out of breath.

"You recognize any of them?" Dean asks.

Cas kneels down, picking up one of the heads, "No."

"What the Hell?" Dean kicks one of the bodies for good measure, pissed that they had to make their entrance at the specific moment they did.

Cas moves to check their pockets while Dean, remembering the third vampire unconscious behind the Impala, starts back to it. In retrospect that's probably where things start going wrong because the big guy isn't unconscious anymore. He knocks Dean to the ground, pinning him behind another car in the lot, just out of Cas' view. That would be bad enough, but two more vamps sidle up from behind him. 

"Get the other one!" The vampire directs, waving his hand in Cas' direction. 

"Cas!" Dean yells, if for no other purpose than to give the angel a few seconds head start and a chance at a fight. 

The vamp on top of Dean wrestles for the machete, which is braced between them, each holding it with both hands. This time he keeps his head well out of reach of Dean's, so headbutting is out of the question. Dean's not above kicking, but that's out too, seeing as the guy is straddling his waist, pinning his lower half hard in the dirt. He manages a hefty elbow across the vampire's jaw when he starts to hear some of the scuffle Cas is having with the other two behind the car. Dean's heart rate spikes. At full power that fight would be no problem for Cas, but right now who knows how strong his body is and what he can take. He's basically human. These guys don't seem to be going for the kill just yet, but that's absolutely nothing to rely on.

It's just then, in the middle of that thought, time nearly freezes. Or, less freezes, more collapses in on itself- because a heavenly white light flashes from exactly where Cas is. A bright white light already seared in his brain from so many angels slaughtered in front of his eyes over the years, including the most important angel of all of them. Dean remembers the exact image of Cas' eyes and mouth glowing white, a blade sinking into his chest and back out as his body drops to the ground... and imagines that exact image again just out of his reach.

"NO!" He finds himself screaming, just as the light fades out. Just like the last time. And just like the last time that'll be the last thing Cas hears...

Why did he have to grab the angel blade? Why didn't he just grab two machetes? Why did he hand Cas the one weapon that could kill him, when anyone else could take it from his hands and do just that? 

Dean stares up at the vampire, seeing red. He's going to kill him. He's going to kill them all. He will slaughter every last living monster on this earth and every single thing any of them ever loved.

He's going to burn it all to the ground.

He should have fucking known. He did fucking know. As soon as you let your guard down... as soon as you start to think you might be able to have something just once... everything goes to shit. People die. And Dean is left burying the people he loves over and over and over again like some kind of demented twilight zone. 

Lisa was the first real lesson on this. Then Cas, and Cas again, and Benny, then Cas, Cas, Cas... How many times is he gonna have to lose the angel to realize that he'll never be able to keep him? 

He had accepted it sometime in the middle there and it's barely crossed his mind since then. He pushed it all down. He pushed down the fact that he's gonna to die young. He pushed down the fact that he can't have a family. He pushed down the fact that he's in love with Cas and has been for years. He pushed it all down over and over again because so what if he's not someone that gets to have those kinds of things? It just gets them all hurt and killed. So what if he can't be in love with someone? It's safer for them if he's not. He's the guy that saves the world so that regular people with regular lives get to have their happy endings. That's never something he was gonna be able to have.

Dean shoves the machete with every ounce of his strength, staring straight up at the creature with murder written in every atom of his being. The vampire is just surprised enough to stumble back a bit, loosening his grip just enough for Dean to rip the machete all the way from his hands. He swipes the blade back, slices forward. The head only partially tears, gushing blood down and across Dean's front. He twists to the side, knocking the body off of his torso. Dean stabs his entire weight into finishing off the decapitation, the blade sinking through flesh and into the dirt. 

He tugs the blade free, wiping it on his jeans as he stands. He'll have to capture the other vamps if he wants to have any hope of making them talk and leading him to the rest of the nest tonight, but the last thing he wants to do is walk around this car to the image that waits on the other side. He can't handle doing this again, seeing him in the dirt, still and cold, wings of ash the final seal of proof that an angel didn't survive an attack...

Stuck there frozen, another one of the vamps starts to round the corner. He readies his blade, simply waiting for them to come to him. The vampire stops short, nearly hitting him and stumbling back, holding out an angel blade in one hand, the other flat out in placation. 

"Oh! Dean!" He breathes with a smile, eyes flicking behind Dean and scanning the area. "I don't believe there's any more in the immediate area-"

Dean nearly drops the machete in the dirt, but manages to keep a hand on it when he barrels forward, viciously wraps both arms around the angel's shoulders and pulls him forward with more urgency than he's ever done anything in his life. He exhales roughly, and coughs to cover up the complete shakiness of his breath. Cas doesn't hug back at first, clearly confused at Dean's sudden urgency, but a few moments later his hands come up and press into Dean's back, steadying him in place. Dean closes his eyes and squeezes him tighter, fingertips digging into Cas' shoulders entirely too aggressively for what this is- but all that's behind Dean's eyelids are stiff cold limbs, a body he wrapped up in a sheet himself, and a pyre by the lake... 

He dips his head into the crook of Cas' shoulder and loosens one hand to thread his fingers into the angel's hair and knot themselves there. Eyes starting to gloss, Dean has to urge himself to pull it together. Because now isn't the time. There could still be more vamps out there. They need to call everyone else, do a few rounds, and figure this whole thing out. He takes in a sharp breath and separates suddenly, one hand on Cas' shoulder to steady himself and push away. 

Dean pats Cas roughly, dropping his hand with a grin that doesn't quite meet his eyes, "You good?"

Cas studies him a moment more, then nods, "Yes, I had to use my grace to kill one of them, though, so I'm a bit drained."

"Oh, so that was the... white light... then." Dean clears his throat, nodding, trying to forget how fucking close he came yet again to having to touch Cas' corpse, "Right, good."

"Yes..." Cas squints, tilts his head, "What did you-"  

Dean pulls in a shuddering breath and looks away, ignoring the question as he peers around pretending to look for others. "We should probably go find everyone else. Make sure nothing caught up to them, too."

His hands are still shaking when he tucks the blade in his belt. He tugs his phone from his pants and dials Sam, turning back to the impala to unlock the trunk. Sam picks up on the third ring. 

"Dea-"

"Vamps in the parking lot. We think we got 'em all, but we gotta hit the road. Round up the kids and meet back in 10. Cas and I got the bodies." He hangs up and slips the phone back in his jeans before Sam can get in a word. 

"You're bleeding, Dean." 

"I'm fine."

"It's been an hour, it should have stopped by now." Cas pauses, quieter, "You have blood all over your face." 

"Well then stop looking!" Dean yells, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles are white.

Cas stays quiet, keeping his eyes on the road and away from Dean. It doesn't last long. Dean feels his eyes on him again a few minutes later when the angel sighs and reaches out a hand with two fingers extended, "Let me-"

Dean smacks his hand away. The guy is nearly passing out already from killing the vamp, there's no way in hell he's letting him heal a papercut. Sam and Eileen are wildly signing to one another in the back seat, and the fact that Sam quickly averts his gaze in the rearview every time Dean catches his eye means they're probably talking about him. That just annoys him even more.

The trunk is stuffed with headless corpses. It didn't take them long to clean up the lot before Sam, Jody, and the girls came rushing to the action. Claire had a blade in one hand, Kaia's hand in her other one, eyes wild, looking for a fight and disappointed when there wasn't one. 

Turns out the vamps were holdovers from a nest Claire and Donna had raided a few weeks ago. They'd tried picking up the trail but it had gone cold, then the end of the world happened and things kind of just got pushed under the rug. Dean is trying not to yell about leaving shit unfinished, but him staying uncharacteristically silent seems to make everyone just as tense as if he did.   

The drive to Sioux Falls from the carnival is a couple hours less than Lebanon, so they're all headed there to recoup for the night and cool down. Jody's gonna make a few calls in the morning, see about any trails of bodies those vamps might've left. Donna, Claire, Sam, and Eileen are gonna head back out first thing to poke around and see if there's not still more to the nest somewhere close-by. Dean and Cas pulled the short straw and got sidelined, tasked with dealing with the bodies and waiting for a call if there are in fact more vamps lying low and backup is needed.

It's all neat and tidy with a bow, isn't it? 

Dean spends the rest of the drive trying not to think about the moments before the vamps showed up. He especially doesn't think about how what happened after was most definitely a warning from the universe. It's Newton's law, or whatever. As soon as he gets something good, then something bad has to happen. So if having Cas is the best thing that can happen to him, then losing him would be the worst. 

Chapter Text

It's barely 10pm when they all roll up to Jody's and some of the tension from earlier has dissolved on the drive. Alex trails behind Jack and Patience as she enters the house, pausing to shout back at Claire and Kaia as they're hopping out of their car. Something about playing some game in the basement. The girls shout their affirmations back and rush in, all smiles and laughter. Jody already has a pizza joint on the phone when Dean crosses the threshold, the last inside. Donna and Eileen chat in the kitchen, Cas grabs a couple of beers from the fridge, and Sam is settled on the couch, head back and eyes closed. Dean collapses next to his brother with a grunt. 

Sam grumbles out a protest, inching away, "Ew, Dean." 

Dean looks down at himself, confused, "What?" 

"You're covered in blood, man. Go clean up." Sam shoves him, lowering his voice, "Show some respect."

"Hey, it's dry. I'm not a savage." But Dean gets up anyway, double checking that he didn't get any blood on anything. "What am I supposed to wear, my birthday suit?"

It's then that Cas sidles up next to Dean and hands him a beer, then one to Sam, "Jody said she still has some of her husband's clothes in the basement that we can wear."

Dean gives Cas a grossed-out face, then whispers, "I'm not wearing dead-guy clothes."

"You have a robe at home you specifically call your 'dead-guy robe'" Cas uses finger quotes, matching Dean's whispered tone, "How is this different?"

"Okay, first- Sam named it that. Second," He pauses, trying to find the words, but notices Jody end her call and turn to approach them. "it just is."

Cas is about to say something else but Dean nudges him, nodding at Jody. They both turn to her and she smiles, stopping in front of the trio.

"Pizza's on the way." She grins, then turns to Dean and Cas, eyeballing their bloodied chests, "I had Alex grab some clothes from the basement, just stuff I was gonna get rid of anyway, so... it's waiting in the bathroom for ya."

When neither Dean or Cas make a move toward the bathroom, she raises her brows expectantly, "Not a request, boys, I won't have you getting vamp blood all on my couch."

"Right! Yes Ma'am," Dean says, the same time Cas utters, "Of course."

Dean jolts to action first, heading towards the bathroom and leaving Cas standing awkwardly in the living room. As soon as he shuts the door, Dean turns to the mirror, slams his beer on the counter, and finally takes in his appearance. Cas had been right, of course. There's dried blood settled in the creases of the entire right side of his face, all seeming to have oozed from a deep gash just below his hairline. He can't even pinpoint when in the fight that happened, but it seems to be the only real damage. The blood on the rest of his clothes isn't his.

He turns on the water, peels off his clothes, and settles them in a pile in the corner of the floor. Two towels and two sets of pajamas are sitting on the edge of the sink waiting. Just tee shirts and flannel bottoms. Normal stuff. But Dean does still feel weird about wearing Jody's dead husband's clothes. He never knew the guy, or even met him. Jody seemed cool with it, though, so he supposes it's fine. If Jody and the girls needed clothes at the bunker, he tries to imagine he'd be just as fine loaning some of his mom's stuff. Even though that loss is still fresh, he thinks he'd be okay with it just because it's them. His family. 

Before long, steam is rising out from behind the curtain. He hops in, letting the hot water sear his skin and relax some of the tension from his shoulders. There's a mess of soap and shampoo bottles filling the shelf, so he takes his time to sniff each one and pick out the best to use. Usually he just buys the same basic soap bars and 2 in 1 shampoo he's gotten since he was a kid, so this is a fun change up. If he ever came home with something like this, his dad would've kicked his ass. Not just for wasting money but for being a pansy. Men don't like this kind of stuff, they just rub dirt in their wounds. 

If John Winchester could see him now... Dean shakes that thought from his head. He'd have gotten his ass beat on principle for kissing Cas... again. And letting vamps get the drop on him because of it too? Sloppy. Maybe he'd be right, Dean is going soft. Maybe that's not so bad, though. If he's going soft then at least he's not turning into his bastard father... something he's feared for years. He's seen it in himself before, too. In the way he talks to Jack sometimes. The way he treats Cas. That's his John Winchester side coming out, and it scares the hell out of him. But his family is more than John Winchester now, and he'll keep fighting that side of him 'til the day he dies.

He settles on a couple bottles that smell like different flowers, washes up, then hops out feeling more refreshed than he has in months. The kids are still downstairs, but everyone else is settled around the dining table when he walks out. It kind of reminds him of BBQs with Lisa back in the day. Ben and his friends separating off at the end of the night while the adults wind down somewhere else. It’s all very... domestic.    

Cas has his back to Dean, seated closest the doorway. Dean beelines for the empty seat beside him, ruffling the angel’s hair in greeting as he passes. Cas looks up, hair tousled messily across his forehead. Dean tries not to smile so widely at the image, but fails. God, he’s so clearly and incredibly in love with him.

He can feel his face getting hot, just at this incremental exchange, and looks down to hide his face from the table as he sits, “Shower’s free, bud.” He says.

Cas gets up wordlessly, but squeezes Dean’s shoulder in passing. Deans phone buzzes in his pocket. He welcomes the distraction, tugging it out.

It’s a text from Claire in a groupchat with her, Kaia, and Cas, with the first message being the photo she took earlier at the Carnival. Cas responds immediately with an emoji that's blushing and smiling, and a green heart beside it. Dean's not an emoji guy, he sends a simple thumbs up in acknowledgment and saves the photo to his phone, ignoring whatever else they send back and forth after that.

He redirects his attention to the table, and Donna is going on about a date gone wrong, animatedly changing her voice for each person in the story and laughing. Realizing he left his beer in the bathroom, he drifts to the kitchen to snag another, voices carrying from the dining room. He leans against the counter, pops open the beer, sips it while peering out the window into the near-dark, wearing borrowed pajamas in a home surrounded by his family. He remembers when he was a kid, sometimes he'd make a friend in a town they'd pass through, and he'd end up playing games in the basement for a single night like Jack and the girls are just below his feet. His friend's mom would order pizza and they'd stay up just being kids.

He'd have to leave that town the next week, never to see any of them again, but that's okay because he was just a visitor in their lives anyway. Now... he gets to come back here anytime he wants, he's a dad to a kid he's raising with his best friend and brother, and a dad-like figure to a bunch of twenty-something girls with as much childhood trauma as he's got. Life is... something.

A figure pads into the kitchen from behind and Dean turns, met with the face of an angel, dark locks of wet hair tangled loosely on his forehead with bright blue eyes shining below. The borrowed clothes hang loosely off his frame, though tug more snugly around the shoulders than Dean's. Underneath that trenchcoat, Cas sure has been holding something back. Those clothes really never did do him justice. 

Cas snags another beer from the fridge as well, leaning up against the other side of the island. He peels at the paper label on the bottle anxiously before finally opening his mouth, "Sam is quitting hunting."

It's a statement, acknowledging something they both already know.

Dean just nods and takes another swig of beer. "'Taking a break.' But, yeah."

"Does this bother you?"

"No. I mean, I always said we'd go out all Butch and Sundance, but, truth is... I never wanted that. Not for him at least. Just figured that's the way the cards drew for us, no use getting upset about it. Now, with everything winding down... I want him to get out." 

"But not you?"

"I dunno, man. I tried the regular life once. You remember. Kind of bit me in the ass." He looks down at his beer, twirling it in his hand, "I don't know if I'm cut out for it."

A moment passes between them.

"Well, whatever you decide to do, you won't be alone in doing it." Cas reaches over and smacks the neck of his bottle against Dean's.

Dean smiles, still staring down, "Thanks, Cas."    

The doorbell chimes out, and Jody shouts from the next room that she's getting it. Dean'll have to hide some cash somewhere for her later to pay back for the amount of pizza he devours. He and Cas head back to the dining room just in time for Jack and Alex to show up and steal three pies for the basement dwellers, then retreat just as rapidly. That still leaves three more pies for the grown-ups table, and Dean starts scarfing down a slice of meat-lovers before Jody has to shove a plate in his face so he'll eat like a normal human being. 

When it comes time to turn in for the night, just about all of them offer to crash on the living room floor. Jody's having none of that, though, and tells Sam and Eileen to take the guest bedroom at the end of the hall. She disappears down the hall and returns back a moment later with a couple of pillows and blankets.

"Sorry boys, you two get to pull straws for couch and floor." She grins as she hands off the pile to Dean. 

"No, Donna, you take it. We're fine, really." Eileen says, nodding and pushing Donna towards the room. 

"Nonsense! Jody has herself a king-sized over in there! You think I'm opposed to a lil bed-sharing?" She winks at Eileen and the boys, "'Sides, not my first sleepover here! You all rest up! Early mornin' tomorrow!"

With a last wave, she's gone, following Jody to bed. Sam and Eileen sheepishly head to the guest room with apologetic looks to the pair left. The couch isn't a pullout, so it's only room enough for one. Dean immediately moves to take the floor, tossing a blanket and pillow on the couch for Cas before tumbling onto his own pillow on the ground. He settles on his back, the floorboards stiff beneath him, and crosses his arms on his chest. 

"Dean, you should take the couch." Dean's closed his eyes but can hear that Cas hasn't taken a step from the middle of the living room, making no move whatsoever towards the couch. 

"Cas," He groans, peeking an eye open to peer up, "Just lay down."

With a final grumbling sigh, Cas relents, padding around Dean and finally laying down. He shifts his position several more times, clearly struggling with getting comfortable. A few moments pass with nothing, then, "I hate sleeping."

Dean snorts, "Why?"

"It's difficult to do. My mind never seems to cease thinking, but to get to sleep you're supposed to stop thinking, which of course makes me think more. It's very frustrating." He sighs, "I'm used to watching people sleep and they're always so vulnerable in that state. How is one supposed to simply fall asleep easily knowing their body will be dormant and defenseless for hours..."

"Alcohol usually helps." Dean jokes, then sobers, "But don't worry about it. I'm a light sleeper, we're fine."

"I distinctly recall both you and your brother waking to armed men and being murdered in your hotel room several years ago."

"An off day."

They both laugh quietly at the understatement. Silence settles between them after that, the gentle bopping of music through the floorboards and a clock ticking in the kitchen the only ambient sound. Dean's own breath starts to even out, and he feels himself drifting closer to sleep. Cas shifts on the couch beside him, and the springs creak wildly again while he settles into yet another position. 

That's when a soft tuft of air brushes onto Dean's face with a light thunk as Cas' pillow is placed gently beside Dean's head. The angel shifts, too, slowly sinking to lay in the empty space left between dean and the couch. He seems careful not to touch Dean at all, just settling beside him mere inches away. Dean can feel his eyes on him. 

"Cas..." He turns and opens his eyes with a start, seeing Cas' face inches away staring at him. Cas is stretched out on his side, completely facing Dean, one hand beneath his head and the other curled between them. "Quit watching me sleep."

"I think we should talk about what happened earlier... and last night."

Dean shifts back, head up, and closes his eyes, "There's nothing to talk about."

"We both know that's not true."

On the ground, deep between the coffee table and couch, they're almost like two teenagers at a sleepover trying to figure out if the other one likes them back. It's unbearably innocent and entirely too high stakes all at once. Because Cas is important to Dean, and this whole thing is beyond significant and he just doesn't know how to handle something like that. 

"What do you want me to say, Cas?" He expels a breath, letting his eyes slide open to stare at the ceiling.

"What you want me to do?" His voice cracks, sparking Dean to turn back to face him. Cas is looking at him completely raw, brows drawn and eyes searing, looking for an answer. He hasn't been showing it at all until now, but Cas is scared. And why wouldn't he be? This is new for him, too. Except where Dean has relationships and knowledge to pull from and people to fall back on, Cas doesn't have all that. He's just a guy who's barely even gotten a handle on emotions at all, much less how to navigate them in a romantic relationship. Because that's what this is... a relationship. It could be.

Cas sighs, picking at the corner of his pillowcase with his free hand, "If you're just indulging me, then please-" 

"I'm not." He says it as sternly as he'd pass an order in the field because it's something that simply can't be questioned. He can't have Cas thinking that Dean is just using him or entertaining him or anything at all outside of the truth. Even if Dean can't quite bring that truth into words just yet. He says it less hard the second time, "I'm not." 

Some tension falls from Cas' shoulders, and he meets Dean's eye again, "Okay."

Dean looks at him for awhile, soaking in the lines of Cas' lips and the dark lashes framing glossy blue eyes. Cas looks right back, and he wonders what he sees, laugh lines at the corners of his eyes or the harsh angry folds of his forehead? Maybe both, since when you love someone you can't just love the parts of them that make them beautiful, but who they are despite the ugliest ones. Just like Cas, in all his wrongdoings, Dean has never been able to not forgive him, to not see the good in him still. Any other hunter, any other man, should've turned their back on this angel a few times over. Then again Cas should've done the exact same thing to Dean. Neither could ever seem to do it. Not completely. 

"Is this just..." Cas starts, licking his lips to break the tension of his own words, "Dean is this just a... physical sensation for you-"

Dean draws his brows, but Cas continues, determined to get this out, "I know that you've sought out inconsequential sexual relations in the past that existed outside of emotional intimacy, but I don't think that is something I can partake in... with you... with how I feel about you. So if you truly don't feel the same way, I'd like to stop... whatever this is."

So Cas thinks Dean wants to get his rocks off and that's it? He can't blame him. When has Dean ever been upfront about caring more than that? He can't expect Cas to read his mind and understand. Although part of him kind of hoped for it.  

He thinks of the Cas that never came to exist, in a world where Lucifer won. That Cas, barely a shell of this one before him, having meaningless sex left and right, drugged up out of his mind, without a care in the world. He wonders, idly, if that was a Cas in a world where Dean never let himself love him back. Where Dean never sat here, baring his chest, and told Cas- no, I don't kiss you just because you're a body and you're warm, I kiss you because you're Cas and you're the only body I ever want to touch again. Because it's not possible that that other Dean wouldn't love him at all. It couldn't be. It's unbearable to think about, because this one does. This Dean can't be a coward about it. 

Dean turns his full body to the side, scooting forward and grabbing Cas' elbow to pull him closer. They're not touching, not completely. He hasn't gone in for a kiss or anything like that, all he knows is he wants Cas close. Closer than he's ever let himself get to him before. Closer than just friends touch each other. Maybe they'd never really been friends, because this feels too natural. It feels like they should've been doing this the whole time. It feels like they've been this much to each other from the beginning, but everything else in life just kept them apart and kept them from living in it.

He's searching Cas' face, his soft blue eyes so wide with hope and promise. It’s hopeless to think about how long Cas has looked at him like that. How many years everyone around them has commented on it and it’s just been. The broken angel who no longer worshipped a lost god, but a single man of that god’s creation.

Settled in a mirror to Cas, one arm beneath his head and the other settled between them nearly touching Cas, Dean lets himself break free of his own prison of space, and graze his fingertips over Cas' cheek. He doesn't look at Cas' eyes watching him, but knows they are. Instead, he watches the impact of his own touch on Cas. The parting of his lips, the catching of breath, the chills on the hairs of his neck. And Dean watches all that, while preparing all that he has to say next. 

"I thought you were dead today. Again. Could've been an hour, could've been thirty seconds, I don't know how long it was. But every time I lose you like that, or think that I do, it hurts the same. Like I'm collapsing in on myself and... it's the worst feeling. My first thought- well, no, my first thought is always that I'm gonna kill every living thing that had any part of it- but my second is always well that just makes sense. Because it's always right when I start to think maybe." Dean continues tracing over Cas' skin, fingers dancing in swirls and journeying farther down the angel's body and back up. Still, he doesn't look in his eyes. And Cas lays rigid, like he's afraid if he moves at all that Dean will stop all of it. 

"Cas I don't get to have things like this." Dean finally looks at him, drowning in the soft blue eyes of the man he wishes he could just let himself love.

"Why?" Cas' voice is barely there, but he asks it almost desperately.

"It'll fall apart. Someone will use us against each other or they'll kill you again and-" Dean goes back to watching his fingertips trail a pattern on Cas' shoulder.   

"They've already done all that, Dean." When Dean doesn't look back up at him, Cas continues, "Dean... Chuck hated me. He hated that I never followed the plans he wanted, so he kept... writing me out. But even when he was in control, I always came back. To you. In a world free of his command, do you not think I would do the same every time again?"

"You can't promise something like that."

"Maybe not, but I have faith."

Faith. That word should be a poison, but faith to Dean stopped being faith in some God or some entity of righteousness in the universe a long time ago. At some point, faith just came about believing in his family. Believing in Cas. 

"So what is it that you want, Dean?"

He wants him to say it, even though he knows now. Even though he can see it in Dean's eyes. Their breath mingles together somewhere in the middle, faces just barely apart. If he merely tipped his head forward, his mouth would be on Cas', but he doesn't do that yet because right now Cas needs the words more than the action. His hand is frozen on the angel's elbow, and Cas is laying still, waiting for Dean to make any move and content to simply wait. Cas is always just waiting for Dean, huh?

Sensing Dean is struggling, Cas drops his eyes to his lips and delicately reaches his hand to caress the corner of Dean's lip with a fingertip, moving on to trace the shape of his nose and up into his hair. Dean closes his eyes and just lets himself give in to being felt. Cas continues on, running his hands through Dean's hair until Dean dips his head down and breaks, snuggling closer to Cas, grappling his arm out blindly to grab onto Cas' shirt. The angel settles his chin on Dean's temple, running his hands down the back of Dean's head, over his neck, and back again. 

"You think those who love you are cursed for it?" Cas asks, low, breath in Dean's hair, "You think you don't deserve to be loved?"

Dean says nothing. He doesn't know what he can say. 

Cas feels warm and safe and just wholly Cas against him. He smells somehow like the spring, like the outdoors. It kind of reminds Dean sometimes of the wind on a nice day when he’s driving Baby with all the windows down. Something like that and something else entirely Cas that you can’t describe but know it just by being near him. Dean tucks his face in the crook of the angel's neck and just inhales, taking in the smell of just pure Cas. The smell he couldn’t find in that wet trenchcoat he fished from the lake no matter how hard he tried, the smell that Lucifer couldn’t quite get right when he took Cas’ body, the smell that burned when Dean had to burn the body of the man he loved.

"Too bad, Dean Winchester. If loving you is a curse, I hope it's one I cannot be cured of."

He needs to stop saying stuff like that. No one's ever talked to Dean like that. He keeps saying romantic things without even trying. Like it's as easy to him as breathing.

Maybe it's the fact that Cas' words are clearly so entirely genuine and overwhelming, Dean gives in. He peels himself far enough from Cas' chest to look him in the eyes and bring his hand back to the angel's face. Maybe just to ground him. He thinks again of the Cas that never came to be, a love unrequited and an angel left broken because of it. Maybe that's the true curse, loving each other only gets them hurt when the other says nothing. Does nothing.

That can't ever happen to this Cas.

"Cas, I-" Dean starts, all of his words mixing up all of a sudden and he can't figure out the right thing to say. Or what Cas deserves to hear.

"What do you want, Dean?" Cas prods again, gently, trying to ease Dean to the words.

"I want this." He answers small. That's all he can say, at least right now. He hopes it's enough, but he can't bring himself to hold Cas' gaze.

"I want this, too." Cas says easily, smiling down at him. 

Dean can feel the beat of the angel's heart beneath his own clenched fist. He releases the fabric of his shirt and flattens his hand on Cas' chest thumpthumpthumpthumpthump. Cas slides his hand up Dean's neck and threads his fingers into his hair, gripping the back of his head and tugging it again into the comfortable space beneath his chin. They could be kissing right now. They could be doing any number of things, but this is somehow more intimate than any of it. Just a man afraid to love, letting himself be held in his lover's arms. There's something sacred about that.

Dean wakes in the morning inside a prison of arms and the bustling sound of whispering bodies scurrying through the kitchen. His entire front is nothing but heat radiating off of the other body and he can feel the angel's breath warm and steady on the top of his head. His own arm is draped over Cas' middle, a leg thrust up between Cas' legs and tangled in their grip. He doesn't want to open his eyes yet and greet the day. He wants to just live here forever in this singular moment of bliss. 

Of course that's not a strain of luck he would ever be gifted, because as soon as he snuggles closer, the voices in the dining room become more clear. He hears a couple of awwh's and more whispered conversation.

"Should we wake them up?" Patience whispers first.

Alex next, "Are they together now?"

"Dean's awake." Jack pipes in, voice still low.

"So 'it's not like that,' huh Dean?" Kaia whispers, snickering, quoting himself back to him.

"Shut up." Dean grumbles into Cas' neck, which just makes the sleeping angel nuzzle his face further into Dean's hair.

"Gross, no one wants to see that," Claire says, full volume, padding past them and into the dining area with the rest. 

"You're gross." Dean says, but finally relents to wakefulness and opens his eyes with a groan, starting to unlatch himself from Cas' grip.    

Cas just nuzzles closer, curling his entire body around Dean's, “Don't...” Cas’ voice is gruff and lust-blown, and god, Dean has been missing out on this for years.

"Some of us are trying to eat, you perverts." Claire says pointedly, emphasizing with a rough bite of her toast.

"Get out of our room." Cas grumbles, moving to plant a kiss on Dean's temple.

Dean shifts his head to face Cas completely, grabbing the angel's jaw and planting a soft, slow kiss on the scruff of his cheek, the corner of his mouth, and finally his lips. He went for just a peck, but Cas comes back in for more with long, gentle, open-mouthed caresses. Dean grips around Cas' back and crushes their bodies together fully, breathing out a groan and painfully separating when he decides they could easily slip outside of the PG zone and doesn't want to get there on Jody's floor, in someone else's clothes, in front of their family. Abruptly, he tears Cas' arms from around him and sits up, disoriented. Luckily the coffee table still at least partially obstructs the view of the pair from the rest of the room, while Dean tries to breathe and calm himself down from his inappropriately lustful thoughts.

The sun is entirely too bright, shining through the slit of the curtains and choosing to directly offend Dean by its existence at all. His body feels so stiff, it couldn't possibly have gotten enough rest. Less than three hours, surely.

"What time is it?" He groans.

Alex improves the whole morning by walking a large mug of coffee across the living room and passing it to him with a grin. He widens his eyes and takes it gratefully. 

"Six AM. ish. Everyone else should probably be up soon." She says.

Sam emerges then, hair ruffled and stretching his arms to the ceiling with a guttural groan and heavy feet. Cas sits up, his hair a complete mess too, swept lazily across his forehead. Eileen slips past Sam, beelining for the kitchen but notices Cas and Dean entwined far too friendly on the floor and grins wide without comment. Cas turns a bashful shade of pink and buries his face into Dean's shoulder, stealing the mug from Dean's grasp and taking a long sip. Dean trails a hand down Cas' back to rest at his hip and hug him close to his side. He plants a quick peck on his temple, and separates to find Cas looking at him with the mushiest smile and puppydog eyes he's ever seen.

It's Dean's turn to look away, face getting hot. He hears Sam starting to clang around in the kitchen, and knows he has to go save him from himself pretty quickly.

"You ever had french toast?" He asks in Cas' ear.

Cas shakes his head, and Dean grins, standing rapidly and jogging off to the kitchen with one last ruffling of his angel's hair. He grabs a pan from Sam's grasp and shoos him from the kitchen, though not without protest. 

No one's bothering to whisper anymore, and the dining room comes alive with chatter, laughter, and a sprinkle of planning for the day. He hears Donna and Jody join in at some point, Donna even heads direct to the kitchen to aid Dean with his meal prep. She starts off a fresh pot of coffee, which is good because she is far too awake and alive for this early in the morning and he needs to catch up. 

"You seem spunky this mornin'" She beams, pouring water into the machine and turning it on. It gurgles to a start. 

"Do I?" He raises his brows, steadily whipping up the mixture for the toast. The bread is already all laid out on the counter, and bacon sizzles on the stovetop nearly ready to be flipped. 

"Well, yeah, last night you were Mr. grumpy, now you're... oh I dunno, can't put my finger on it." Donna quirks a brow, "But a night sleepin on the floor and you're tip top shape."

"What can I say, a good floor nap changes a man." 

"Mmhm," She eyes him, but smiles, turning to flip the bacon, "I can read you like a book, Dean Winchester. Somethin's up."

"Can't a guy just wake up on the right side of the bed?"

"You?" Donna pokes a friendly finger, and laughs.

"Yeah alright." He laughs too, but sobers, "Nah, I just- I guess I'm starting to get it. You know? It's starting to feel real... being free."

She nods, regarding him with a knowing look, "Things sure haven't been easy for you boys, huh."

He doesn't need to confirm it. They quiet after that, but the jovial nature of the morning isn't lost. Before long, he's dipping the bread in the egg concoction and laying out pieces for Donna to then take and sizzle on the stovetop. She starts a story about a time her auntie made french toast for her and her cousins as a kid, resulting in the dog somehow eating half of it and-

"Oh I bet you know what happened next. We thought he'd be fine, just a little grumbly belly. Nope! We got home..." She swoops her arms out wide, "Poop everywhere. Had to get a new couch."

Dean laughs, "I'm gonna use that next time Sam asks to get a dog."

"Oh, don't you dare!" 

She hits him in the arm with a piece of uncooked toast right when Cas pads into the kitchen with an empty mug and heads straight for the coffee pot. Dean beams at him immediately and Donna turns, noticing Cas' entrance.

"Well who knew coffee was such good angel fuel." Donna grins, stacking another finished piece of french toast onto the pile of the rest.

"Hardly an angel." Cas says, amused.

"Well, veteran angel then. Retired." Donna offers, pointing her fork at him.

Cas watches her stab another piece of toast into the growing pile, sipping his coffee, "I like that. I suppose it's a better phrase than outcast."

"Hey! You got a family, Cas. You're not an outcast." Dean piles the now-empty bowl into the sink, and moves to the fridge beside Cas. Cas watches him pull out the maple syrup with a fond look in his eye.

Dean's sure he must be looking at him much the same because when he turns back to Donna, the corner of her mouth quirks up in a smile and she squints her eyes directly at Dean, looking like she wants to say something but decides against it and turns back to the stove.

She flicks off the burner and claps her hands together once, "Alrighty, boys, get the plates!" 

There's not enough chairs at the table, so whoever wasn't there for the musical chairs claim gets the boot into the living room. Dean and Cas head for the couch and just as they reach the room, Cas hands Dean his plate to hold. He begins folding up the blankets they'd strewn across the floor, piling up the pillows neatly beside them and placing the coffee table back in its original space. It's so incredibly domestic and normal, Dean's struck by a sudden and complete fondness. He just stands there, dumbstruck that he gets to have this. He gets to wake up tangled with Cas, and he gets to make him breakfast with Donna, and he gets to stand here and hold his boyfriend's plate for him--

Wait is that what he is? Is Cas his boyfriend? Boyfriend seems like such a minimal term for exactly what Cas is to Dean, but he also likes it. He likes it a lot. 

Jesus, he's just standing frozen in the middle of the room watching Cas and getting utterly too emotional about it while everyone else dances around him to find a seat. Jack plops down crisscross beside the coffee table, Jody takes the chair, Donna squeezes in beside Cas on the couch, and the rest stay around the table. Cas pats the empty space beside himself and looks at Dean with a small smile just for him. 

This is gonna be it, isn't it? He gets to have this. So many mornings, holidays, days in between where they can just be people together and... this is it. Cas is it. Shut the doors, lock up, and close business. Cas is it for him.

Dean jolts himself back to life, staring down at the two plates in his hands as he slides in beside Cas on the couch. He hands one off to the angel without looking at him. If he looks at him right now he's gonna keep freaking out--

"Are you okay, Dean?" Cas asks low enough that no one else will hear. 

And that's the thing. Cas is it. But he can't half-ass it or keep waiting around for something to happen. He can't let Cas go around thinking that this is anything less than what it is, because Cas deserves better than that. Maybe Dean does too, but Jury's still out on that one... and while Dean might be a man of action, Cas needs more than that...

"I-"Finally, Dean meets his eyes, the words spilling out before he can think about it because this right here is everything he's ever wanted and he gets to have it and he finally has the time to actually say it back... "I love you."

He says it almost like he's shocked by the words, but really he freezes up again because he's terrified of those words. Part of him even hates them because the last time they were uttered, Cas got taken. But he also can't just not say them because he feels it and he has for years. So many of the little things Cas does and says and is- but now that he's said it he's opened that door for something bad to happen and to take it all away again-

Cas lightly places a hand on Dean's cheek, centering him back with soft blue eyes filled with nothing but kindness and love, "Everything will be okay." 

Dean nods, though he doesn't completely believe it, he's willing enough to simply have faith. 

"And I love you." Cas beams, dropping his hand from Dean's face and picking up a piece of french toast. He takes a bite, quirking his face in concentration before he swallows, "This, however, I unfortunately do not"

Cas continues inspecting the piece of food in his hand and Dean laughs, "Dude you have no taste."

"That is not true. I like bacon." He takes a bite from one of the strips on his plate. 

Dean wonders again how on Earth he ever got so lucky. 

Chapter Text

Dean opts to just keep on the borrowed shirt, but put back on yesterday's jeans. On those there's only an artistic spattering of blood that can easily be dismissed by any passerby, unlike his other shirt which is completely soiled and would make him look like an ax murderer. He splashes water on his face, steals a shot of mouthwash from the medicine cabinet, and wets down the tufts of his hair that swish in different directions from being pressed against Cas all night.

Claire, Donna, Sam and Eileen headed out immediately after breakfast, so Dean is pretty much the last one out the door. Cas is leaning against the impala when he gets outside, his eyes closed and head tilted towards the sun. He hears Dean's boots crunch on the gravel and lowers his gaze, settling into a cool smile. 

"Beautiful day to burn some corpses!" Dean beams, hopping into the driver's seat.

Cas follows, "Not quite my first thought."

"And what was?" Dean places his arm on the backrest, backing down the driveway. When he straightens out he leaves his hand on the seatback between them.

"There are many sensations you don't realize until their absence. A breeze, the sun, even this," He pats the leather of the Impala's seat, "Feeling this, touching it. Everything around us is a constant reminder of life." 

Dean's been trying not to think about Cas' recent three week siesta in nothingness. And he's been trying very hard to avoid asking what he knows he needs to. He fixes his eyes on the road, "So, uh, the empty... that's all handled now right? You won't-"

"I can no longer return to the empty." Cas says easily, "Jack made sure of it. I'm more trouble than it's worth, it turns out." 

"Just like that?"

Cas nods, the corner of his mouth quirking to a smile as he watches the sunlight flicker across his hand, "Yes. When I die, I'll go to heaven now. Like you." 

Dean lets out a harsh breath, and says, mostly to himself, "No strings attached win, huh?"

This should make him less anxious, but somehow he's even more worried. Every time things seem calm in their lives, there's something brewing around the next bend. Someone or something always coming and someone they love caught in the crosshairs. 

Cas takes Dean's hand from the seatback and threads their fingers together. With a squeeze, he brings his hand up to plant a soft peck on Dean's knuckles. Some of the tension starts to leave his shoulders again.

"Hey, uh, why don't you pick out some tunes?" Dean nods at the box of cassettes at Cas' feet, if for no other reason than to swiftly leave this topic on the road behind them. 

"I thought driver picks the music?" Cas asks, but tugs the box into his lap anyway and starts rifling through.

"That doesn't apply to you anymore. Don't tell Sammy." He winks, squeezing Cas' hand.

"Why am I an exception?" Cas dusts off an old Skynyrd tape Legends and pops it in the player. 

"Because..." Dean shifts nervously, "I've always let girls pick the music and... and since we're..." He nods between them and raises their joined hand, "We're... Christ, I feel like a teenage girl asking this but... what are we, Cas?"

"I don't understand?" He looks at Dean blankly, in the way that he definitely knows what Dean is talking about but likes to pretend he's not just to see Dean fumble with it.

Dean groans, "Come on, man. Throw me a bone, here. You know what I mean."

"Are you asking me to be your boyfriend, Dean?" The corner of Cas' mouth quirks in a suppressed smile, his voice even. 

"Shut up." Dean mutters, still watching the road, tightening his one hand's grip on the wheel.

"So that's a no, then?" He grins wide. 

"It's a yes. It's obviously-" He drops Cas' hand. "You know what, nevermind, I revoke your music-picking privileges."

"That's no way to treat your boyfriend, Dean." 

Dean peeks over at him and can't help but smile, too. He fixes his eyes back on the road, face hot, "Shut up." 

Cas takes back Dean's hand with both of his own, tracing his finger across the lines of his palm. "Where are we going?"

"I have a place in mind."

"You have a usual body disposal site?"

"In Sioux Falls? You bet your ass."

Dean hasn't been to the old Singer Salvage Yard in years. They're only on the road another couple of minutes before rolling up to the front, and based on the look of the place no one else has been around either. Bobby never did keep it completely weedwacked and shiny as a penny, but it used to at least look lived in. Now there's patches of grass where there used to be dirt, and full grown shrubbery inhabit the rustbuckets they used to use for parts. The house is little more than a ruin, the wilds already taking that back as well, with vines covering what used to be charred stairs. 

"I didn't realize this was still here," Cas says incredulously, almost to himself. 

"Yeah," Dean scoffs, "Bobby left us the whole lot in his will. House was probably still standing when he wrote it up..."

Cas is looking at him with that confused head tilt when Dean pulls up to a stop in what looks like a good enough grassy patch to start a fire. 

"Why haven't you done anything with it?" He follows Dean to the back of the Impala.

Dean shrugs, unlocking the trunk, "We could've sold the land, I guess. Didn't feel right, though. Then I think with everything that kept happening, it kinda got tossed aside."

They take awhile stacking the bodies in a small pile in the grass. Dean takes a jug of gasoline from the backseat and spreads it over the mass, pulls out a lighter, flicks it, tosses it to blaze up. He just stares at the fire a minute, thinking of the murderous rampage he nearly went on because of these few stupid vampires and their attempt on Cas' life. The person he turns into in those times is when he most sees John in himself. It's those times where he most understands his father, too, and what that type of loss does to a person. He gets it because as much as he'd like to think otherwise, the man Dean turns into when he loses Cas or loses Sam, isn't Dean anymore. Just like the John Winchester that raised this kid into a man far too young, wasn't the real John Winchester.

That still never made it okay. It doesn't make it okay when Dean is that man, either. Maybe that's the difference between he and his father, though... John never recognized that in himself, but Dean does. He sees it, he just doesn't know how to stop it, because they're everything to him and that scares the crap out of him.

"You should fix this place up. Build something here." Cas says after awhile, squinting at Dean.

Dean scoffs, kicking a rock into the fire, "Yeah? Like what?"

"Do you remember that place Michael had you trapped in? In your head."

"That crappy old bar? Hard to forget." 

"There must've been at least some truth to the dream, I imagine."

Dean shrugs, absently kicking at the grass at his feet, "Yeah, I mean... yeah. Roadhouse pitstop for hunters. Karaoke machine. Surly old regulars. Juke with just the classics..." He lights up at the thought, but shakes it off, shrugging again, "But yeah... it's just a dream." 

"Why should it stay one?"

"You think I should open up a bar? Here? Cas I don't know the first two things about running a business."

"Since when should that stop you? What is it you've always said to me? 'We figure it out together.'" Cas bumps his shoulder against Dean's, tilting his head.

Dean chuckles, falling into a sad smile, "I should quit the life, that's what you're saying."

"Why not? Sam is. It's finally quiet out there... it might be time." Cas pauses, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder and catching his gaze, "The choice is yours. Like I said, I'm by your side no matter what. I just want you to be happy, Dean, and I don't want you to settle for a hunter's life just because you think that's all you are and all you can be."

"I know that..." Dean's voice is small, and he looks at Cas, really looks at him, because surely he doesn't deserve someone like the angel in front of him.

And he starts to think the most dangerous thing a man like him can think. Maybe... maybe he could have that. Maybe that's the best way to keep that John Winchester side at bay... live the life he's always wanted. The type of life John led before he, too, turned into a monster. 

"Besides, I have a lot of downtime while you all sleep. After we broke you out of Michael's control, I read several dozen books along the topic of running a business. I've learned quite a bit." Cas just smiles at him like it's a passing thing. No big deal. Like it's not one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done. And he did it as a 'just in case.' In case Dean ever wanted to, or ever thought that maybe he could have something like that made-up life in his head.

Eyes glistening, "Why do you like me so much, Cas?"

Cas grazes a thumb across the stubble on Dean's cheek, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on the corner of Dean's eye, his nose, the corner of his mouth, and then finally the softest brush of lips on his own. Still there, he whispers, "I like you because on Halloween twelve years ago, you chose to save the town." He brings his lips back to Dean's temple, ""I like you because you fought against me for the greater good, when I was an agent of heaven and could've killed you without hardly a thought."

He leans away, still lightly holding onto Dean's jaw, and continues, looking into his eyes, "Once, you told me I was already dead. It was just a passing thing, dismissing me after an argument... and you were right. I was nothing. Just a mindless soldier before you came along. And now I can be here, have choices, foods I like, music I like. I'm a father and a friend. And you can say a movie I like is stupid and I can say the same to one of yours. You make references to things I still don't understand half the time, but you think they're funny so I do too. I like you because you've never had anything yet you fight for everything. The smallest things make you happy. To see your entire face brighten at the sight of a single piece of pie makes me happier than I felt once in hundreds of years."

Dean's heart is hammering in his chest, unable to stop holding his eyes with Cas' because Cas is doing it again... showing Dean how completely in love with him he is. And for how long, too. He remembers that time all those years ago when they were barely friends yet, but still somehow so important to each other. They've always been like this. Dean pulling Cas to his feet and Cas pulling Dean. Because he liked him then too. 

Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul?

Okay. 

I'm not a hammer, as you say. I have questions. I have doubts.

Cas pauses in thought, then looks down at Dean's chest, placing a hand firmly in front of his heart. "Do you know I can still see your soul? If I try to."

Dean looks down at his chest as though he's gonna see something too, but it's just shirt there beneath an angel's hand.

"This mangled old thing?" Dean jokes, but Cas ignores him.

He continues, "A human's soul is very telling of their character. Everything they're made up of. What they show the world and what they keep inside. Even in Hell, your soul was so incredibly bright when it should've been far more tainted. It was beautiful. Perhaps that's why I gripped you so tightly. I wanted to protect you, even then.

"The dimmest I ever saw it was when you had the mark. That's how I knew something was wrong. Something dark was scarring you." He lets his hand drop, staring at Dean's chest a moment more before looking back to his face with a curious expression, "These past couple of days it's brighter than its been in a long time... maybe because..." He tilts his head, "Are you happy, Dean?" 

Dean places his hand on Cas' chest this time, still meeting his eye, "Closer than I've been in a long time."

Chapter Text

One Year Later

Bobby Singer was a man that Castiel greatly admired for many reasons, the most of which was his depth of care for the Winchester brothers. It seems, even in death, Bobby has continued to be a solid aid for the boys. It's for that reason that his framed image hangs center on the wall behind the bar, surrounded by dozens of other photos of the Winchester's family through the years, including the photo Claire took of Dean and Cas the year before. Many faces Cas knows, though there's still a great deal more that he doesn't. These are a reminder that despite all the loss and tragedy that has befallen this small troupe of people in their short lives, they're surrounded by the love they've found with one another. That makes it all a little easier.

Castiel, too, finds himself grateful for such things. Even though he's lived thousands of lifetimes, it's only within this entirely too short one beginning on the day he befriended Dean Winchester, that he's actually lived a day at all. Before Dean, Castiel simply existed. He was a shadow, a soldier, a creature without a heart. Now he's a body, a father, and has a heart so full it's overwhelming at times.

It had taken a bit of convincing a year ago to get Dean to truly warm to the idea of using Bobby's old salvage yard for a place of his own, but eventually he came around. Cas may have had to bring Sam in as the final nail in the coffin to convince him that this was something they could make work. Sam always comes through.

They cleared out the cars that couldn't be salvaged for anything other than scrap metal first, dozed down the blackened remains of Bobby's old home second, then figured out what was left. Dean insisted on keeping up the old "Singer Salvage" sign at the entrance, and the garage was still in decent shape so with a little extra TLC it's back in running order again. Now, it's not as much a part of the business as just a place that hunters come when they need to work on their cars, or where locals swing in when they need work since Dean's the best mechanic for miles. Maybe it'll become a functioning shop eventually but for now Dean just likes helping people out. 

The house got rebuilt. Not exactly the same as it was, but close. Neither of them had much to say on the layout, so they kept it simple. They kept the dungeon in the basement, of course. Cas added a nicer kitchen with wider windows. He knows its technically a breakfast nook but Dean refuses to call it that. There's a small garden out back that Cas insisted on, too. He wants Dean to eat healthier and he figures the best way is to guilt him into eating fresh food that Cas grows for him himself. He also just wanted one. He's never really had anything just for himself. Jack has his own room, there's a spare for Sam whenever he and Eileen come through, and Claire gets one too even though she and Kaia have their own apartment just a few miles away. Cas just wanted to make sure she always knows she has a home and people to come back to. 

Between the house and garage they built up a roadhouse. If Dean had been hesitant at first, as soon as they started making the plans for the bar he was like a kid at Christmas. Or that's what Castiel assumes is the right expression, given what he's seen in movies. He was never actually a child himself, or have his own infant child at Christmastime... but it seems closest to compare to Dean's level of excitement.

"Singer Salvage and Roadhouse" is a pitstop for any wayward soul who needs it. There's a jukebox of "only the classics," a couple of grumpy old regulars Cas or Dean have to kick out at the end of every night, karaoke every Thursday, and a "burger of the week" every week. Dean forms the recipe for each one himself and names them after a different supernatural creature. This week it's a Rugarou Burger- several mixed meats, a surprise sauce (A1 mixed with BBQ), pepper-jack, grilled jalapenos and onions, topped with spicy sausage and the works, only served bloody. Since Cas became fully human, he's enjoyed trying every single one of Dean's newest experiments. The only burger recipes Dean ever repeats on the menu are the ones Cas likes. 

Kaia hunts with Claire occasionally, but mostly she's stayed out of it so Cas offered her a job at the Roadhouse when they opened. Patience takes up some shifts every now and then for extra cash, too, in between classes. Kaia working here makes Claire stop by a lot more often, though, which always makes Cas' day. Despite how they've come together, he hopes that Claire thinks of him as family as much as he does her. At the very least he hopes he can make her see a little more all the time that she has people that will always be there when she needs. Same as he's finding he still has to encourage in Dean, despite having stuck by him for thirteen years already. Dean will still wake up in a cold sweat sometimes, and he won't tell Cas about the nightmare but it's not hard to guess by how tightly he holds him afterwards. 

The first few months after Cas got back from the empty, he and Dean split their time between the bunker and Sioux Falls, but as soon as the house was mostly finished they moved here full time. Sam and Eileen stuck around the bunker, though, and they've turned the place into a full-fledged hunter waypoint. They hunt on occasion when something turns up, same as he and Dean, but mostly they just man the phones and front the research for the younger hunters still on the road. Dean called them the "New Bobbys" for awhile, though when Sam pointed out that Dean is the new Ellen they cooled and all poured one out for their fallen friends. Now they're just Dean and Sam, no new anyone because no one can quite fill the shoes of the ones they've buried. 

Jack splits his time between the bunker and Sioux Falls, which is easy for him since he still has wings. And also makes it easier if they want to have a movie night without having to drive six hours one way. He splits a bit of time with heaven, too, helping the remaining angels repair things up there and change a bit more. He doesn't speak on it a great deal, but still does ask for Cas' help or input now and again, even if Cas can't visit heaven himself anymore. 

If Castiel didn't know any better, they'd been living in a djinn dream. But he does know better, because Jack promised him something once. Visions of a future they've finally found their way to. Just like then, Dean doesn't quite believe it yet. He's still on guard for the next bad thing to happen. Some days are worse than others, but more and more often Cas catches him in a moment he assumes is Dean realizing just how much he finally has after so many years of war. Cas will look up when he's pouring two beers behind the bar, or look over to Dean after watching a bird outside their window while having their morning coffee, and Dean will just be looking at him with the most lost and loving expression Dean Winchester is capable of. One where he wears his emotions completely on his sleeve and nearly collapses under the weight of it. Cas will land a hand on his shoulder and ground him back with a light kiss to his temple, then his lips. Then makes Dean even more flustered under affirmations of his love for him. Cas likes to see the look in his eye when Dean tries processing nice things being said to him, because Dean does like it, and need it. He just hopes that one of these days Dean starts accepting those words a little more readily. 

And this is their life now. A life Castiel never thought he'd be able to have. His life was supposed to end several times over, but he kept coming back because this was meant to be his true ending on this earth. A hunter he pulled from Hell, with too big a heart and too short a fuse. Just a man, who by definition and all accounts should've been no different from the millions of other men who have walked this earth in this angel's lifetime. He just so happened to end up being the most important man in all of creation. Not because he's the righteous man or because he stopped the apocalypse several times over or because he beat God himself. He's important because Castiel fell in love with him somewhere through all of that, when he wasn't supposed to, and in all accounts of fate and the universe, he shouldn't have. But he did. And by some strike of malfunction in the universe's planning, or maybe simply despite it, since Dean Winchester has never given a fuck about the universe's plans... Dean fell for him too. They'd been falling together all along, right beside each other, blindly and completely.  

It's Thursday, which means karaoke. A few hunters are spotted around the bar already, but with the sun still up, most won't be appearing until much later. Cas is in the back office, filling out an inventory restock when Dean shows up in the doorway with two beers. He hands one off to Cas and keeps the other, grinning. He plops down in the couch beside the desk, peering over at the list. Cas can feel him eyeing him and looks up.  

"Breaktime, Cas." Dean pats the couch beside him, then leans back, stretching out his legs.

Cas rolls his eyes, but picks up his beer and crosses over to sink beside Dean. He ruffles his hands through Cas' hair, stroking down to the back of his neck.

Cas can't quite get used to it, being touched by Dean so effortlessly and intimately. Not completely, anyway. Sometimes the weight of it, after staying an arms length and simply wishing for something like this for over a decade, is unsurmountable. The hairs raise on the back of his neck and his eyes meet the soft green gaze of the man who keeps trailing his fingers absently, watching Cas' body react to his touch. And Dean loves touching him now. He loves the little things, the gentle caresses, the soft kisses in passing. He had to work up to those, like everything else, but one day it all just came to a head and Dean just couldn't stop showering Cas with small touches through the day. Touches that had been built up over a decade of longing and want.

For a man that so many know simply as a killer, a hunter, a man of violence and blood, his most hidden side is that of simple care, of the tentative brush of calloused fingers, of soft sighs in between the sheets of a bed he occupies with only a lover, of light laughter when grazing the spot on his stomach where a scar tickles. He is so much more than any person will ever see, because through this bounty of love he also created a soul within Castiel. There's no way that he had one before meeting Dean Winchester because the world was simply far too cold, and since only warm. No one else could ever possibly fathom the depths of love within that one man.

Cas must be looking at Dean some type of way because Dean's face turns red and he looks back down at his hand now trailing down Cas' arm, and starts a subject, like he loves to do to keep too much focus off of him.

"We've gotta get you a birthday, man." He mutters, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Why? I wasn't born." 

Dean snorts, "Humor me. I can't be the only one that has a party every year."

"You want me to choose a birthday so you can throw a party?" Cas quirks a brow, smiling. 

"Yeah, obviously." Dean grins, taking a sip of his beer. Foam gets all over his upper lip. 

"September eighteenth, nineteen seventy-three."

He squints for a second, doing the mental math, then scoffs, "Seventy-three? That's way too old, dude, you barely look forty. You can't go around telling people you're almost over the hill."

"That's the part you noticed?"

"Sep... tember..." Dean's brow furrows again, considering the rest of the date, then realizes, "Oh... Why?"

"It makes sense to use the date that changed the trajectory of my existence."

"You didn't even rebel until months after that..." Dean takes another sip of beer and even more foam is left on his upper lip, but his face is turning pink again.

Cas leans in, softly kissing away the foam, "I may not have known it yet, but I'd fallen the moment I found you in Hell." 

The pink on his cheeks deepens, "Bet you say that to all the ladies."

"That is my usual line, yes." Cas grins, leaning away as Dean laughs and shoves him. 

The front door bangs loudly just outside, and Claire's voice carries out louder than it needs to, "You both better zip up, I'm coming back there!"

Moments later she's in the doorway, arms crossed and leaning on the threshold, glaring at Dean, "You said my car was fine! Tell me why it stopped moving again?"

Dean glares back, downing the last of his beer, "Because it's a pile. Maybe you just need a new car."

She rolls her eyes, "Says the guy in the hundred year old-"   

He cuts her off, pointing threateningly, "Don't. Even. Dare..."

Cas grins, watching the two bicker back and forth. They're both entirely too similar for their own right. Eventually she gets Dean up and he follows her outside, but not before giving Cas a swift peck on the cheek and disappearing out the door with a grin. 

He gets to have this. Even before he bargained away his happiness with the empty, he never thought any point of his life would end up this way. Making a home with Dean Winchester.

It must be nearing midnight. The moonlight leaks through the curtain, shafting strips of light onto the bed. Even though the moon is full, they don't have worries of werewolves on their minds. There's nothing chasing them today, and there hasn't been for a long time now.

Sam and Eileen sleep in the next room over, and Jack in the one past that. Dean's morning was filled with homecooked meals, ring shopping with Sam, and drinks shared with friends downstairs. Cas went to practice shooting with Jody and Claire today while Kaia started classes at the local college. Now, they lay tired not because of a weight on their shoulders or bodies tired from combat, but simply for the most mundane of reasons.  

Cas lays on his side, drifting further into sleep as Dean trails a hand lightly down the curve of his body. Over his ribs, stomach, hips, slightly down his thigh and back again before Dean tucks his arm securely around Cas' chest and pulls him close, crushing their bodies together. His face settles in the crook of Cas' neck, taking a deep breath in... and out, warm breath sending chills all the way down Cas' spine. Dean chuckles at that, holding him even closer. Cas weaves their fingers together against his chest, nestling back against Dean. Dean nuzzles his face deep into his neck, planting soft kisses along his shoulder. He kisses his way to Cas' ear, settling there to whisper, "Love you." in a sleepy, husky voice. 

Cas huddles closer, bringing Dean's hand up to trace small kisses along his knuckles, "I love you."

They no longer live a hunter's life, but these boys still collect their moments as though they do, and cherish every one.