Chapter Text
Dean always tried to have something warm waiting.
A pie, a folded blanket, a scent that filled the room with safe. Something that said: you’re not alone. Something that said: you’re still loved, even if today wasn’t kind to you.
He had just finished putting dinner on the stove—rosemary and butter, because Cas liked the way it reminded him of autumn—when the door slammed so hard the whole house trembled.
Dean startled, the knife slipping from his hand and clattering to the floor.
Then the scent hit.
Alpha. Anger. Fury. Too thick. Too sharp. It turned the air metallic. Dean’s chest constricted before he even saw Cas.
“Cas?” he called out gently, stepping toward the hallway.
And there—Cas stood in the doorway, shoulders braced, jaw clenched like he’d bitten through steel.
“I got fired,” he said, voice rough with humiliation.
Dean blinked. “What—? Fired? Cas, what happened—?”
“Don’t,” Cas cut in, tone sharp. “Don’t ask.”
Dean hesitated, soft omega instincts pressing forward. Comfort. Anchor. Calm.
He moved closer, slow and open-palmed. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry. Maybe we could just—”
“I said don’t.”
Dean froze. The snap of that voice lashed down his spine.
Still, he tried. “I made dinner. We can sit—”
“Dean,” Cas hissed, not quite yelling, but loud enough to shake something inside him. “You don’t need to coddle me. Just—just stop trying to fix everything.”
Dean blinked hard. The words hit like slaps. Stop trying. Stop caring. But he stood his ground.
“I just want to help you,” he whispered.
And that was the last straw.
“I don’t want your fucking help!” Cas snapped. “I don’t want you hovering or offering or cleaning up after me like I’m some broken toy you can polish. You don’t get it, Dean. You never get it.”
Dean staggered back a step.
Something in his scent cracked.
Cas turned away, running his hands through his hair. His eyes landed on the vase.
The roses Dean had arranged that morning. The ones Cas brought home the night before, saying they reminded him of Dean’s smile. Dean had tied a ribbon around them. Had picked that crystal vase because it was a bonding gift from their parents.
And then—Cas moved.
Too fast.
CRASH.
The vase shattered against the wall.
Dean gasped.
It wasn’t just the sound. It was the violence in it. The image of love being hurled away like it meant nothing.
Water and roses splattered across the wood. Shards glittered like ice.
Dean dropped to his knees with a whimper. Not even thinking. Not breathing. Just trying to fix it because if he didn’t, something worse might happen. Something might break for good.
He scooped the roses with trembling hands. Petals bruised. Stems broken.
Then—
A sharp cry.
Glass.
Blood.
Dean’s hand split open along the palm, red blooming hot across his skin.
He froze. Stared at the cut. Then down at the roses, now stained with crimson.
“You gave these to me,” he whispered. “You said they were love.”
He choked on a sob. Tears slipped silently down his cheeks, mixing with blood and broken things.
Cas turned.
And his world stopped.
“Dean—Dean, baby, no—” Cas dropped to his knees like the floor had vanished.
Dean didn’t move. Just cradled the ruined flowers to his chest.
Cas reached for him, gently, as if any wrong motion might shatter Dean further.
“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it—please, let me—”
Dean flinched, blood dripping onto the floor.
Cas stilled. “May I touch you, my love?”
Dean nodded. Barely.
Cas scooped him into his arms instantly, pressing his scent to Dean’s temple, his throat, anywhere he could—marking softly, gently, anchoring. “Mine,” he whispered. “Mine, mine, mine—always mine.”
Dean slumped against him, dizzy, fragile.
Cas laid him on the couch and rushed to get the first aid kit. His hands shook as he cleaned the wound, whispering soft apologies the entire time.
“You’re okay, my love," he murmured. “I’ve got you. I’m here. You're safe. You did nothing wrong.”
Dean winced when the alcohol hit.
“I scared you,” Cas said, tears starting to fall. “I said awful things. I let my anger blind me, and you—you were just trying to help me.”
“I was,” Dean whispered. “I was trying so hard.”
Cas kissed the bandage once it was wrapped. “You love better than I deserve.”
“You scared me,” Dean admitted, voice breaking.
Cas cried then. Quiet, broken sobs.
“I’ll never raise my voice again,” he swore. “I’ll never slam another door or shatter anything you love. I swear, sweetheart. I swear on our bond.”
Dean leaned into him, exhausted.
Cas caught him before he collapsed fully. Held him tight to his chest, whispering every apology his heart could shape.
“I’m going to protect you from now on. Even from myself. You’re my heart. My mate. My omega. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I can hold you gently.”
Dean fell asleep in his arms, tears drying on his cheeks.
And Cas didn’t move for hours.
Not until the sun began to rise and the air smelled like home again.