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What was it that Cas had been saying since the beginning?
That Dean had no faith.
Apparently Dean should have listened to him. But what else was new?
Dean should have had faith in God. Not the sadistic God that had used them like puppets for his own amusement. And not Amara, who had been so bent on just getting into his pants. What the fuck had that all been about? They had zero chemistry together. Dean knew he was a himbo, but that was a stretch, even for him.
He should have had faith in Jack. Their son. Their immature, naive kid with a huge heart and love for miles. He should have known that Jack’s love for them would come through.
Sam had been happy but unsurprised when Jack appeared in the library, waving “hi” in that way he does. Sam had been ecstatic but not at all shocked when Jack had moved to the side and there was Cas, standing right behind him. In the bunker. In their library. Whole and alive, wearing his dumb little trenchcoat and backwards tie.
Dean, however, had nearly passed out. He had felt hot and cold all over, and suddenly couldn’t catch his breath, let alone smile. Assuming the worst had always come easy to him. He had resigned himself to never seeing Castiel again, and it was all his fault. He’d had to grab onto a chair to steady himself while he was trying to take it in.
He should have known better.
Of course Jack had rescued him. Jack had brought everyone on Earth back. Of course he hadn’t left his own dad stranded in that horrible place. He was God! God with a heart. Probably for the first time ever, God had a heart.
The ritual of hugs and back thumping and pretending not to see each other’s eyes shining had gone on for quite some time. Dean found himself feeling afraid to believe. He knew he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Chuck was gone. There was no other shoe to drop. The pessimism was just baked into his bones, tempered through years of practice. He was afraid of hope. He kept catching Cas’ eye, and Cas would smile reassuringly at him, as if he understood Dean’s need for assurance. Yes I’m really here, Cas’ small smile said.
They all sat around the table, drinking and talking. It felt like coming home.
Jack told them about all the new ways he was rebuilding Heaven. What a kid, Dean thought. Sam regaled them with stories about their recent hunts, especially the one with the weird vampires who wore Halloween masks. The monsters were getting kind of lazy these days, without Chuck to maneuver them around like figures in a Dungeons and Dragons campaign. Sam had saved Dean’s ass on that particular hunt. Dean had been guilty of paying less attention as of late, and his guard had slipped. Sam was kind though, and left that part out. They all just laughed about the dorky masks.
Dean and Cas were quieter than the rest. They interjected a few words here and there, laughing at all the right moments, and catching each other’s eyes across the table. Cas didn’t have much to say anyway. The Empty had literally been nothing. And what he remembered of it he certainly didn’t want to talk about. Dean was content to sit and listen to the chatter and take in the sight of all of them together. He drank his beer and ate his pizza and felt… happy. Cautiously happy. Sam had realized that Cas was back for good as soon as he saw him. Dean was just starting to believe it. It took him more time. He had just a bit of faith to work with.
Jack was the first to leave. He had to get back to Heaven to continue his work, so with a goodbye wave, he blipped out of the room. The three men smiled fondly in that way that fathers do when they are proud of their children.
“We don’t deserve that kid,” Dean said. Sam nodded.
“But he’s the kid we got. Maybe we all deserve each other,” Cas said.
Dean barked out a dry laugh at that. It wasn’t completely humorless. Cas’ eyes crinkled at the sound of Dean’s laughter.
“You’re probably right about that, Cas,” Dean said, tilting back his beer.
“I’m just so glad you’re back, Cas. I never did get the whole story about why the Empty took you,” Sam said.
Cas looked over at Dean. Dean looked back at him.
“A story for another time, maybe. I’m having too much fun being here again. With you all,” Cas replied.
“Fair enough,” said Sam. “I second that. It feels good to have everyone home.”
Dean smiled and looked down at the table. His fingers smoothed over the grooves in the wood, the cuts in the surface spelling out their initials.
The three of them let the quiet spin out, the stories and laughter left behind for a while. But it was a good silence… a soft and comfortable one. The kind of silence one enjoys in front of a crackling fire, or while looking out the window at a falling snow. There’ll be peace when you are done, the song went. Maybe this was it. Finally.
Sam announced that he was turning in for the night. He reminded Dean, and now Cas too, that Eileen was stopping by in the morning to have breakfast with them. She and Sam were planning to go on a hike after breakfast, and then stop at a swimming hole on the way back. You know, things normal people did. “Gone Fishing”, but for real. Life is a picnic. Stop and smell the roses. Carpe diem.
“I’m really glad you’re here, Cas,” Sam said, standing up. Cas stood up too and they embraced. There were quite a few hugs to catch up on, it seemed. Sam hung onto him for a moment, and then let him go. His eyes glowed with unshed tears.
“Well goodnight,” Sam said, clearing his throat. He turned around before wiping some of the moisture from his cheeks.
“Goodnight,” Dean and Cas chorused.
Cas sat back down. The room got quiet. Dean looked over at Cas, drank his beer, and looked down at the table again. Cas sat looking at him, unsure what to expect, but content to be sharing space.
Cas broke first, and stood up.
“I think I’ll be heading to bed too, Dean. What room should I…”
“No.” And that’s all Dean said.
Cas stood, waiting. Dean pointed his index finger down at the table stiffly. “Sit down, Castiel.” His tone was both serious and insistent.
So Cas sat.
Dean got up and snagged a bottle of whiskey and some glasses from a nearby shelf. He moved slowly, unhurried. Deliberate. The more time he took with the ministrations of drink making, the more time he bought to gather his courage and choose his words. And words never did come easy to Dean Winchester. At least not “feelings” words.
He poured the whiskey into two glasses, sending one spinning across the table towards Cas, who caught it easily. Then he sat back down with his own glass. He took a long drink and swallowed slowly, grimacing at the burn. Cas waited. He would wait forever.
The silence was a living thing between them. It was large and curious, like some kind of creature, sniffing at the crack beneath a door. This was uncharted territory, unwritten, and Cas had no idea what was coming next. Anger? Dean was very comfortable with anger. Repulsion? Rejection? Dean had seemed genuinely happy that Cas was back, but his hug had been shorter than Sam’s. It had felt insubstantial, like Dean wasn’t sure whether or not Cas was real. Like he feared his arms might just go right through Cas when he touched him.
Dean set down his glass.
“Castiel,” he said finally, in a low and neutral tone, neither friendly nor harsh. Cas felt a trickle of unease at the use of his whole name. Dean’s eyes were serious and so very green. Cas felt some trepidation at what words were going to follow, but at the same time he felt like he could stare into those eyes all day. He felt grateful to be here, able to hear whatever it was Dean had to say to him, and he just hoped it wouldn’t be “get out”. They really did deserve one another, he thought wryly.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dean said, in an even tone. No anger. No outbursts. No condemnation. It was very unDean-like.
“Why didn’t I tell you…..” Cas let the end of the sentence hang questioningly.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me, Castiel…” He pronounced the name with three syllables. “That you were in love with me?” Dean replied, again in a solid, calm voice. He said it slowly, like he was spelling it out for a child. His quiet voice felt almost menacingly deceptive.
“Oh, that,” Cas replied.
“Yes, that,” said Dean.
Cas drank his own whiskey then, swallowing it all slowly. Buying his own time. Dean nudged the bottle towards him and Cas poured another.
“I guess I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or risk losing our friendship,” Cas answered.
“You didn’t want to make me uncomfortable.” And Dean chuckled softly, refilling his own glass. “You don’t think telling me right before you fucking died, again, made me a little bit uncomfortable, Cas?”
Emotion had returned to Dean’s voice, along with the nickname, and Cas breathed a sigh of relief. It was still Dean Winchester. His Dean Winchester.
“You must know I had no choice then, Dean. I had to summon the Empty to save your life. It was the only way I saw to do it.”
Dean sat, thinking, drinking. Cas watched him wobble his glass back and forth in his hand. Watched the amber liquid slosh like a whirlpool inside. The thoughts in his head are probably sloshing around like that too, Cas thought. He felt a new, prickling stab of guilt. Like he’d been stabbed in the heart. Would they ever stop this loop they found themselves in? This neverending merry-go-round of saving each other and hurting each other?
When Dean spoke again it was his quieter voice.
“You could have told me the truth. About your feelings,” Dean said. “About your deal. We could have tried to figure it out together.” He set his glass down and looked Cas in the eyes. “And I know, I KNOW, I’m being a hypocrite for saying that. I know I ran off to do deals with the devil all the time, trying to save Sam. Trying to save you, save the world. But you always told me Cas…you told me to ask for help, dammit. You TOLD me to stop sacrificing myself. And then you went and did the same damn thing.” His voice was rising.
It was Cas’ turn to sit and take it in. To sip his drink to give himself time.
“You’re right, Dean. I am a hypocrite,” he finally said. "I should have told you about the deal.”
“Damn right you should have,” Dean answered quickly.
“But I don’t believe I was in the wrong for keeping the depth and nature of my feelings for you to myself. I think they would have scared you.”
Dean’s face crumpled a bit at that. Just a trace… you wouldn’t notice if you didn’t know him. He looked down into his lap. Cas could see regret. Remorse. Sadness, even. But he didn’t understand it.
Dean knew he deserved that assessment of his character. He was a coward. He lifted his head, turning fully towards the table and propping his elbows up on the tabletop. He wiped his face with his hands.
“I’m sorry, Cas. I’m sorry I wasn’t the man you needed. I wasn’t man enough to… to be there for you.”
Cas’ face crinkled in perplexity.
“What do you mean, Dean? My feelings are my own, and not anyone else’s burden. If I could have saved you while sparing you the knowledge of them, I would have. It’s not your fault, nor your responsibility to reciprocate feelings that you are unable to. I meant it when I said that loving you is the greatest joy of my life, and I feel that joy whether I share my secret or not. You may have regrets in your life, Dean Winchester, but this isn’t one of them.”
“You don’t get to decide that, Cas. My regrets. You’re not the only one with secrets.”
“Ok,” Cas answered, waiting. Annoyance had begun to creep in. This man was so frustrating!
“You said you knew you couldn’t have me… a relationship with me….” Dean said.
“Yes. I know I can’t have a romantic or sexual relationship with you,” Cas said pragmatically. Dean’s cheeks turned pink, but he kept going.
“Why were you so sure you couldn’t have that?” Dean asked.
“Because for all intents and purposes, I am a man. I live in a man’s body, and you are heterosexual. I know you can’t love me back in that way.”
Dean covered his face with his hands again, as if ashamed. Cas quirked his head to the side.
“I don’t understand your reaction, Dean. No one would assign blame for not returning feelings for someone that you are unable to feel attraction towards. I didn’t want to make our friendship….awkward.”
“Awkward. Right.” He dropped his hands from his face, and he suddenly looked tired. Sad, even. His face was drawn in a way that Cas couldn’t understand. “Cuz that would have been the most awkward thing about us,” he continued. “Not angels using our meatsuits to run around in. Not me turning into a whole ass demon for a while. Or going to Hell. Or wearing the Mark of Cain. Not you literally becoming GOD. I mean, Jesus Cas!”
“I was never Jesus, Dean.”
A ghost of a smile peeked out of Dean’s face. Cas smiled too. They both grasped at the lightness, grateful for it.
Dean rubbed his forehead, his eyes closed. He was obviously laboring under some sort of distress or conundrum, but Cas couldn’t guess what it was.
“Cas.”
“Yes, Dean?”
“When you brought me out of Hell, you put me back together, right? You held my soul in your hands. You remade my body.”
“Yes,” answered Cas.
“Didn’t you see….all of me?” Dean asked.
“I saw your soul. It was a good soul. So bright. Very strong. I knitted your flesh back together. So yes, I’ve seen your whole body.”
“I’m not just talking about my body though. Did you see, like, the insides? My memories? Any stuff like that?” asked Dean.
“I’m not sure what you mean by ‘insides’, Dean. Of course I saw the inside of your body, because I formed it, just like I did the outside. As to your memories, no. I didn’t look at those. That would have been an invasion of privacy.”
“An invasion of privacy.”
“Yes,” answered Cas.
“Angels, man,” said Dean, pinching his nose and sighing.
“You’re annoyed that I DIDN’T pry?” asked Cas.
“I’m not annoyed, Cas. It’s just that if you HAD looked, then I wouldn’t have to SAY it. And Christ knows I’m bad at saying stuff. Especially THIS kind of stuff.”
“Dean,” Cas said softly, pitching his voice low. “You told me that I should have been honest. That I should have trusted you. Please know that you can trust me. You can tell me anything. I KNOW I’m being a hypocrite right now, because I didn’t share my feelings with you, but I can’t help the past. I can only tell you NOW,” he breathed out and then back in, letting the moment take on some weight. “That I’m not going anywhere.”
Dean’s head jerked up at that last sentence. He squared his shoulders a bit, breathed out slowly, and nodded his head. Cas could see that his soul blazed. It gleamed golden, like a mini sun captured within his body.
Dean took in a shuddering breath, and jumped.
“My first kiss, my first real one at least,” he began. “It was a boy named Luke.”
Dean paused, studying Cas’ face for a reaction. Cas sat preternaturally still, like someone watching a deer venture into a meadow and not wanting to spook it.
“He was staying at one of the motels we were at,” Dean continued. “His parents were on vacation, but they didn’t have a lot of money, so they stayed at a crappy motel. We were in Florida, I think. It was summer and they were there for a couple of weeks. I thought it was cool his name was Luke, like Luke Skywalker.” Dean ducked his head shyly. “Like he hadn’t heard THAT a million times before. He was good-lookin’, blonde hair, muscles.” Dean’s eyes flitted up to Cas’ face. “He had blue eyes.“ His eyes flitted back down. “He liked cars, just like me. We worked on cars together that summer. Went swimming. He was nice to Sam. Tried to include him even though we were older and Sam was a little kid.”
Dean paused a moment, took a breath, and then pushed on. “I think he could tell I was crushing on him a little. Luke Skywalker but he could fix up cars too? I mean, come on! What’s not to like? My head was spinning that summer, trying to figure out if I wanted to BE him, or be WITH him. One day we were in the woods behind the motel, just fucking around. Sam was inside watching TV. Dad was gone off somewhere doing whatever. We were talking, and he leaned in, close to my face. Like to kiss me. At first I was freaked out. Like, is this really happening? But I felt excited too. I felt….happy. So I let him. He leaned in so slowly. Gave me time to stop him, ya know? Or maybe he was nervous too. But I didn’t stop him. It was my first ever kiss, with tongue at least. I’d had some pecks with girls before, but nothing like this. It was….” He imitated an explosion with his hands. “Fireworks.”
Dean stilled, falling silent. He looked up at Cas again, searching for a reaction. Cas could feel fear and shame coming off of him in waves. Cas hoped his face was reflecting both care and encouragement.
“What happened after that?” Cas asked quietly.
“We made out a few times. Nothing major. Just some kissing and over the clothes stuff. He and his family finally left.” Dean shrugged. Cas felt like there was more to the story. He gave Dean time to continue.
“A couple of guys moved in next door to us. They were obviously… together. Dad came back from doing whatever it was he was doing. He saw the guys holding hands and stuff and well…. It was a different time back then.”
Cas waited patiently.
“He called them names. Made fun of them. Not to their faces of course. But behind their backs. He talked all kinds of shit about them behind their backs. About how they weren’t ‘real men’.”
Cas’ heart broke. Dean’s first real kiss, his first young love, stolen by John Winchester.
“I’m so sorry, Dean. Your father was, I believe the correct phrase is, a ‘giant asshole’.”
“He didn’t know any better,” said Dean, the knee-jerk reaction to cover for his dad still deeply ingrained. “But yeah. He was kind of an asshole.” Dean sighed. “I tried to cut it out of me, that part of myself, the part that liked guys,” Dean continued. “In my mind, ya know? I tried SO hard. But I couldn’t do it. So I packed it away as far down as I could, like some box in the back of the closet. I tried to hide it, so my dad wouldn’t find it. Wouldn't see it. Cuz I saw real clearly that weekend…that you can’t be a “fag” and fight monsters.” The last part came out thick with bitterness. “I’d already lost my mom. I couldn’t lose my dad too. And I had to take care of Sammy. Be a ‘real man’.” He laughed coldly. “Be so much of a ‘real man’ that my own best friend doesn’t feel safe telling me about his feelings. Ironic, isn’t it?”
Cas’ heart broke again.
“Dean, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry for assuming. That was wrong of me.”
“Not your fault, Cas.”
“My assumption about your sexuality is absolutely my responsibility. As are my anxieties regarding sharing my feelings with you.”
“I spent my whole life hiding it, burying it. Even from myself. You certainly don’t have to apologize to ME for fear and secrecy.”
“Thank you for telling me your story, Dean. For trusting me.”
Dean nodded.
“And of course I know that feeling some attraction towards men does NOT automatically mean that you have feelings like that for ME,” Cas continued. “I may not have been able to see your sexuality Dean, because you hid it so well, but I CAN see that humans experience love and attraction in diverse ways, and they are not always logical, and certainly not controllable.”
“Wait, what?” Dean asked, incredulous. “You think I told you all that just to come out to you as bi?”
“I don’t want you to think that I would assume that just because you like men that you would be attracted to me. I don’t want you to be afraid that I would throw myself at you or anything like that.”
“Oh no, I do NOT think you would throw yourself at me, Cas. I think you would do the OPPOSITE of throwing yourself at me. I think you would reluctantly tell me when you’re on death’s door and there is no other choice BUT to tell me.”
“I’m confused, Dean.”
“Clearly,” said Dean. He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “I tell you my big secret about the summer of Luke Skywalker and you STILL don’t understand that I like you?”
The skin between Cas’ eyes crinkled.
“I fall apart every time you leave, Cas, and you still don’t get it? That I LIKE like you?” said Dean.
Cas tilted his head to the side, like a confused dog.
“That I LOVE you, you dumbass?”
Castiel stood up.
“You what?” Cas asked.
Dean stood up too. Took a breath. And finally fucking said it.
“I love you, Castiel. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it the day you said it to me.”
There was a beat of silence between them.
“It was a pretty rough day,” Cas said.
Dean huffed. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”
“But you’re saying it now.”
“I am. I love you Cas. I’m IN love with you, Cas. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I’m sorry for being a coward. I guess I was more successful than I thought about cutting that part out of me.”
“You are no coward, Dean Winchester. And I’m really glad that you ultimately failed in your endeavor to remove any part of yourself. Your whole being is beautiful and good, including that part of you. I’m so sorry you were ever led to believe otherwise.”
Dean blushed and walked closer. They stood toe to toe, looking at each other. Blinking at each other, as if seeing each other again for the first time.
“So what happens now?” Dean asked.
“I’m sorry your first kiss experience was stolen from you. Can I give you another first kiss?”
“I have to admit, Cas, that I’ve kissed a few more people over the years. Including a few dudes, even. I meant it when I said I failed miserably at squashing it all down.”
Cas’ jaw dropped in mock astonishment. “Dean Winchester, you dog.”
Dean’s chest puffed up a bit. “What can I say? I’m adorable.”
They both laughed a bit, grateful again for the lighter air between them.
“Can I give you your first kiss with me, then?” Cas asked.
The answer came quickly.
“Yes please,” answered Dean.
“I DO love a man who says ‘please’,” said Cas. Dean turned pink all the way to the tips of his ears.
Cas leaned in slowly, not touching any part of him, giving Dean time to stop him if he wanted to. Dean didn’t want to. Impatient, Dean closed the space between them and met Cas’ lips with his own. Cas kept his hands to himself at first, unsure of how comfortable Dean was with the embrace. Dean nipped at Cas’ lips, dropping his hands down to Cas’ hips. They began to sway a bit, oblivious to anything outside of their little circle. Dean was the first to open his mouth and taste Cas with his tongue. Cas gladly followed his lead and deepened the kiss. It became a breathless thing between them, urgent and sweet at the same time. Cas lifted his hands to Dean’s face, stroking Dean’s cheeks, his thumbs tracing along Dean’s throat. The way Cas held Dean’s face felt possessive in all the best ways, and Dean felt a thrill of excitement in his belly. Dean pulled him in closer by the hips, his hands traveling up Cas’ back.
Finally, they broke apart, both breathless and blushing. Dean felt a little dizzy with it all. Not just the kiss, but the confessions and the revelations too.
“So I’m making out with an angel,” Dean said. He winked. Cocky.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think I’m your first, Dean,” Cas said.
“Not my first kiss, not my first angel, but definitely my first Castiel,” Dean whispered, overcome with emotion again.
Cas kissed him on the forehead. They hugged, rocking back and forth a bit. Dean let a few tears escape, at long last. “I’m just so glad you’re back, man. SO glad,” Dean said, squeezing Castiel tightly, his voice rough with feeling. He had promised himself he wouldn’t break down in tears, but he gave up trying to hold them in, letting them fall on Cas’ coat. It had been a big day.
“I’m really glad to be back, Dean. With you,” Cas whispered back. They pulled apart. Dean sucked in a wavering breath. Cas wiped Dean’s tears from his cheeks. “And I’m so glad that you didn’t destroy any of the parts of yourself, Dean. Especially the parts that were made for love.”
“You sap,” Dean said, ducking his head. But Cas could see his soul shining.