Work Text:
When Castiel woke up alone in bed, the house was silent. There was no television on, no radio playing, no humming or rustling and Cas realized why. He had spent enough years living with Dean to know what today was. He slowly sat up, rubbed his eyes, and ran a hand through his hair. Easing out of bed, Cas quietly walked out of the bedroom and leaned against the wall separating the living room and kitchen.
Dean was seated at the table in his pajamas, his back towards Cas. His elbows were propped up, head sagging in the palms of his too-hot hands. Castiel walked up and wordlessly placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. He flinched at the surprise touch before shakily clapping one of his hands over Cas’. Cas began to move away, wanting to give Dean any space he needed, but he held on to Cas’ wrist instead. Cas pulled up another chair and sat down, sliding an arm across Dean’s back, rubbing up and down as Dean shook with stifled sobs. One of Dean’s hands settled on Cas’ thigh and he squeezed with each cry, needing something to hold on to, physically and emotionally. Castiel kissed his shoulder again and again, still rubbing his back. Wordless comforts were given by Cas until Dean stopped shaking. He wiped his eyes and nose and squeezed his eyes shut. Cas slowly stood, kissing Dean on the top of his head and walked over to the refrigerator to start making them breakfast. Dean looked into his hands again before deciding to push himself up. He let out a trembling breath.
“Happy birthday, Mom.”