Chapter Text
He got the call from Cas finally, after the failed trials, angels falling like beautiful, imperfect stars. Sam pleading for Cas’ status as well in the midst of ‘letting go’ of those trials. The coughing, the bleeding of his mouth, and pale features melting away with the acceptance that it wouldn’t work without Sam dying.
After Dean was all but sure Sammy was fine, came the stabbing fear of the whereabouts of Cas. And it was days, days and no word. Dean knew that Cas had fallen. How could he have not? Had one of those streaks of light across the sky been him?
Dean thought surely he would go mad. Then there was the call. A call that insured that Cas was alive. ALIVE. There wasn’t anything. No heaven. No hell. That could keep Dean from driving straight to Cas. He’d urged Cas, fuck that, begged him, to stay at the pay phone and to not move. To not talk to anyone. To not make waves or draw attention to himself. To simply stay there.
Dean thought surely he would be sick more than once as he kept his foot pressed to the gas pedal of the Impala all the way there. All the way. It was a three-hour drive that took less than two. It was nearing night time, sun setting red and bloody in the west when he pulled into the gas station, and he took immediate note to the ‘Superman’ looking like payphone cattycorner to the ‘Merle’s car repair’ that Cas had mentioned.
He leapt out of the car, slamming the door of Baby and eyes scattering around, trying to catch sight of the trench coat, the messy hair, those absolutely perfect blue eyes. And then finally, with the flashing ‘closed’ sign near blinding him, he saw what he was searching for, perched on the steps. But Cas wasn’t adorned in his usual ‘tax accountant’ attire, instead, looking disheveled and soaked, dressed in a worn out hoodie and jeans.
“Cas!” Dean sprinted towards the steps.
Cas rose, wobbly and weak. There was blood crusting at his temple and his lip was split. There had been no first aid that was immediately clear, “The owner allowed me…” but he was caught off guard as Dean gathered him into his arms.
“Cas, oh Cas,” Dean mumbled into his dirty shoulder, “Are you hurt? I mean of course you’re hurt, but hurt bad?” he pulled away to survey the former angel’s face.
Cas’ pink tongue darted out over his split lip and he winced, “N-Not bad…it hurts though…Dean,” his blurring blue eyes finally met with impossible green, “It hurts.”
“What happened? Did someone hurt you, or was this, when, you know…” he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.
“I was attacked,” Cas’ eyes cast to the ground, but that was the end of it.
“Come on,” Dean tried to deny he trembled, one arm around Cas’ shoulders, pulling him to his chest, lips buried in hair that smelled of blood and soil and sweat, “We’re going home.”
Cas’ damp blue eyes shot upward, “But…you’re angry with me…I-I…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Dean snapped, hands cradling both sides of Cas’ face, “It doesn’t matter…we’re going home…you and me.”
Cas didn’t understand the burning and swelling beneath his eyes, but he nodded anyway, “Alright.”
The entirety of the ride home Dean didn’t let go of Cas, kept him near flush at his side. When they arrived, nothing changed. Dean hurried his dirty and stained clothed body down the iron stairs, almost bypassing Sammy’s concerned, borderline threats of ‘what happened.
“They fell, didn’t they,” Sam murmured, grief stricken eyes locking with Castiel.
“Yeah, they did, can we drop it for now? Come on,” Dean growled, without even thinking leading Cas down the long hallway, “I’m getting you cleaned up.”
“Dean,” Cas thought he might have spoken, but the prospects of a bath were far too inviting to protest. He’d traveled for days and he ached in ways he didn’t think existed, and the kicks and punches he received run loudly with pain. It was a pain that he had never experienced.
“Sit here,” Dean situated him on the closed toilet, “Gonna get you clothes, stay.”
Cas did as told, his eyes fallen on his bloodied hands. Bleeding. They were bleeding, long, prominent lines of crimson along his palms. His throat got tight. Very tight. What was that?
Dean returned, he had a towel, t-shirt, pants, and boxers in hands.
“Okay, have you ever…ya know?” he gestured towards the tub, “Cas?” he said again when Cas’ eyes ventured to the floor.
“No,” Cas gulped, “I-I’ve never had to…”
Dean stopped him with one upturned hand, “That’s okay, no problem,” Dean answered automatically, he filled the tub with warm water before turning back to Cas, “Can’t do this clothed, right?”
Cas wanted to retort, something snarky as he thought would be expected but he couldn’t, he felt broken. Oh God, he was human. He was. No angel needed this. No angel needed help. Not like this. With something so simple as bathing.
“Cas, it’s okay if you need help,” Dean offered, “Come on,” his hands moved forward without asking, he pushed the muddied hoodie away, as well as the too thin t-shirt that was spattered with soil and blood and rain. Cas’ cheeks, for the first time ever, burned crimson with his nakedness but Dean said nothing. He worked in a friendly, clinical way, “Get in, come on, you’ll feel better.” Dean said, eyes still bright and hands outstretched.
“Dean,” Cas found himself choking, looking down at yes, his very human body. So very human. It seemed that before it was just a vessel and he thought nothing about it. But he felt everything now, this was his body now.
“Cas,” Dean gave a flicker of a smile in attempts to put him at ease, “Nothing I haven’t seen before huh? Come on,” he eased Cas into the tub once he was completely naked, “What hurts?”
“My head, my hands…my-my,” Cas swallowed, “Everything….it seems.”
“Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix,” Dean offered, albeit not too convincing, he soaped up the rag in his hand, thick with bubbles, “Look here.” Dean washed away the dirt and blood, “Lean your head back,” Dean took a breath, trying to keep his eyes Northern, as he soaped up the dark locks of Cas’ hair, “This okay?”
Dean did not miss the tremble in Cas’ voice as he closed his eyes, “Yes,” he said, turning his head against the porcelain away from Dean.
“Cas, hey,” Dean near whispered, “Look at me,” when Cas didn’t comply Dean reached forward and steered his gaze to his own with a grip to his chin, “It’s okay, no matter what, you’re safe here. No one, nothing, no matter human or supernatural is getting to you. Got it? I gotcha. No matter what.”
Cas once against swallowed that rising pressure that was aching to be released, “Yes Dean, thank you.”
Dean hurried him out of the tub, shocked with the ability to actually do this without blushing like an idiot. Dressing Cas in his sweatpants and a favorite band T.
“You hungry?” Dean asked without thinking as he rubbed a towel over Cas’ spikey dark hair, still crazy damp.
“I-I… I think so, I have found my stomach hurts when it is empty, and I have not had much to eat in the last few days. It has been scarce to find,” Cas licked his lips.
When Cas’ stomach growled, Dean smiled, “That…that’s hungry,”
~~~~~~~~
Four pieces of pizza later Cas began to lull forward, long after Dean had said his goodnights to Sammy. Making sure he’d made it to his room, without fever, no blood, no coughing. He made his way back to the kitchen, “Cas, hey, bedtime. I fixed you up a room.”
When they stopped outside of the room that was across from Dean’s room, Cas felt that earlier trembling returning, “Dean…” Cas’ much too wide blue eyes were quickly becoming wet, a little less sleepy looking than they had before.
Dean’s brow furrowed, “Cas, what’s wrong?” he paused, studying Cas’ face, “You don’t feel like being on your own do you?” he asked, no joking behind his question,
“No, I mean, I’ll be just fine, I just…” Cas almost whispered, ringing both his hands, standing in the hallway. Looking so naked and lost. Bare feet shuffling, and eyes on the floor.
Dean resigned quickly, “Hey, it’s alright,” Dean gestured, eyes too on the floor, but both hands out gesturing, “Come on.”
“Dean, I do not wish to inconvenience you,” Cas gulped.
Dean moved forward and took Cas’ hand, leading him into his room, “It’s nothing,” Cas’ hand still firmly in his own, he pulled the sheets back, turning the fan on, situating the night light. After all that, Cas was still standing there, looking like he had that time he’d taken him into a brothel. Terrified. He sighed and moved forward, he tugged Cas to the bed, “Lie down, Cas.”
“But this is your bed Dean,” Cas stuttered.
“Yeah, it is,” Dean threw back the sheets, “Get in.”
Cas did as told, stiffly lying on his back, as soon as he was beneath the cool, wonderfully smelling cloth he was fiddling with the sheets as Dean settled beside him. He heard Dean huff a laugh.
“Cas, relax, it’s just sleep,” Dean smiled, keeping his voice warm and soft.
And Cas admired that smile, the crinkling at the corners of Dean’s eyes, and slight dimples that made themselves present. A rush of panic trilled up his throat. He thought he’d find comfort. He thought he’d go numb with the prospect of finally being safe. Not on the streets, but safe. But he didn’t. And it came down like a tidal wave. Wave after wave. He was human. He’d locked his brothers and sisters out of heaven. And it was all his fault. All of it.
“Cas!” Dean’s voice arrived over the onslaught of hate, “Hey!”
“This is all my fault Dean,” Cas cried. There was this warm, dampness running down his face. His eyes were leaking, his chest was heaving, he couldn’t breathe, “What is this? W-what is wrong?”
“Cas, shhh, you’re crying, this is crying,” Dean hushed, “And I’m not an expert on the subject but I think you’re having a panic attack. It’s alright, it all comes with that human thing we were talking about,” Dean started to smirk, but when Cas gulped loud, an almost violent hiccup he sobered, “Cas, hey, hey, hey, shhhh,”
Cas launched up from the bed, near stumbling, the last few days of utter terror taking firm hold, “I’m nothing, nothing at all, I caused this, I should be destroyed! I should be dead! Dean, you should kill me! I’m not w-worthy to be alive!”
Dean tossed the sheets aside and as he stood he clutched the crying man to his chest to keep him from fleeing further, “Castiel, stop it,” full name on purpose, “No one is killing you, you got that?!” he spat angrily. “You’re with me, you’re safe. This wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t your fault.”
“How was it not?!” Cas sobbed, and without even meaning to he buried into Dean’s chest, “It was my grace that cause this, my blinding trust that caused this!”
“You we’re only doing what you thought was right…” Dean nearly growled, “Like you did before. I should have recognized that after the crypt when you ran…you were only trying to help. And I should have let you apologize and then told you it wasn’t your fucking fault, shouldn’t have been a dick. Angel, you’re alright, don’t-don’t blame yourself…you were only trying to fix the problem. You’re not bad…and you didn’t deserve this…” Dean’s heart felt bruised, he’d let Cas think that all of this was his fault. That he’d betrayed him, even though he’d been brainwashed, none of that had been if his own doing. And then flying, running, hiding. Not trying to be ‘god’ again or ‘the hero’. In all actuality he was trying to protect humanity and that included Dean.
“Dean, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” Cas sobbed harshly, fists bunching up Dean’s t-shirt and tugging without even knowing he was doing so, “I can’t breathe…I-I-I don’t understand I can’t-can’t…Dean…so alone, I’m so alone…”
“Shhhh,” Dean soothed, “Breathe, Cas, breathe,” he kissed his temple without thinking, pulling him close to his chest once more, with both hands he tracing firm, shapeless circles onto Cas’ back, which seemed to help. He took both of Cas’ hands in his own, untangling them from the fabric, unconsciously intertwining them with his own.
“Dean, I-I…there was a reason I couldn’t…in the crypt…that I couldn’t,” Cas clung tighter to avoid eye contact but Dean was pulling away fast enough, their fingers still interlocked.
“Cas,” Dean exhaled, as soon as they made eye contact.
“Dean,” Cas cried, eyes tumbling endlessly with tears, “I-I…”
“It’s okay,” Dean whispered, their foreheads nearly touching, and then he was just plunging forward. Capturing those chapped, plump lips, hand tangled in dark hair, thumb caressing the firm, sharp jaw.
And Cas was crying against the wet, willing mouth against his own, and kissing back. He near lost sight when their tongues touched.
“Dean,” Cas sobbed, yes sobbed, “I love you.”
Dean licked and nipped in hopes to stay the continuing flow of tears, “Yeah, Cas, I love you too, have for a long time and I’m so stupid,” he pulled him closer than close, “I love you so much, you’re not going anywhere, right? Nowhere.”
“Nowhere,” Cas shook, burying his face into Dean’s neck, fingers finding their way beneath the confounds of t-shirts as he wound his arms around Dean’s waist, “Don’t ever let me go.”
“Never,” Dean murmured into the soft flesh of Cas’ throat, “I need you here.”
“I need you here as well, please,” Cas hiccupped, cries leaping from his throat without warrant.
“Shhh, Cas, don’t cry, I don’t want you to cry. You’re safe here, no more coldness, no more loneliness, it’s you and me. You and me sweetheart, got it? We’re it.”
“Dean,” Cas snuffled, clutching painfully, hot, damp breath filling up his senses, “I don’t wish to return to heaven. Even if…if we can fix this. I only want you. I don’t wish to go back. Please…”
Dean thought he might start crying as well, was sure of it, his face felt hot and his eyes too full, he held Cas tighter, “Never again, you’re never leaving me again.”
“I love you,” Cas cried again, because he wasn’t sure there was anything else that could tumble out of his mouth. He was only aware that he was snug once more beneath the covers when he felt lips to his forehead.
“Cas, shhh, close your eyes, close’em, I’m here I’ll always be here,” Dean murmured against the shell of his ear, placing a kiss there. He pulled both the blanket and the sheets up higher over Cas’ shaking body. His own mind he knew, should be reeling, but oddly was not. He had never felt this calm with the warm body above him, comfortably snug against his side.
Cas inhaled unsteadily, and willed his eyes to close, trying so very hard to focus on the nimble fingers caressing his back and gentle words being whispered into his ear. And with such comfort and exhaustion, sleep scooped him away quickly.