A Heart That Hurts (Is A Heart That Works) - Chapter 8
Technically, this is the end of the story, although I have the glimmer of an idea for a sequel.
Chapter 8
Castiel watched as Dean patiently demonstrated how best to sight a target with a small pistol. Claire watched Dean’s actions intently, looking out of place on the makeshift range with her face still round with baby fat, long blond hair, and pink barrettes. She was the picture of innocence, but when Dean handed her the weapon, she removed the safety and brought the gun up to firing position like a pro.
“Good,” Dean praised. “You’re going to fire on the exhale, and remember the recoil. It can come as a surprise the first time around.”
Claire breathed out and squeezed the trigger; Castiel could see the cement splinters fly from the cinderblock wall where Dean had set up the soda cans.
“Good,” Dean repeated. “That was close. We’ll keep practicing until you can hit every single one.”
“Demons won’t die from bullets, though. Bobby told me.” Claire’s face was raised to Dean’s, but Castiel could see the terrible loss of innocence from her eyes. “You have to use a knife, or a special gun.”
“Or an exorcism,” Dean added. “What do you need for an exorcism, Cas?”
Castiel sighed, wishing he could still perform an exorcism with the touch of his hand. Still, he knew the answer. “Salt, holy water, and the exorcism ritual. Faith helps, too.”
Dean nodded and turned to Claire. “Your job is to get away from demons, not fight them. If someone has to exorcise a demon, it’s not going to be you. You get me, you get Cas, or you get Sam. Hear me?”
Claire nodded, gulping at Dean’s harsh tone.
Dean pulled her into a quick hug. “Let’s try this again. We’re going to make a sharpshooter out of you in no time.”
“What about Uncle Cas?” Claire asked. “Isn’t he going to shoot?”
Dean grimaced. “Yeah, I’ll teach him. Starting next week.”
“Why next week?” Claire asked.
Castiel turned away, already feeling the distance that Dean had put between them. “Because we’re focusing on you right now, kiddo. I’ll give Cas a lesson some other night. Now, let’s try again.”
Castiel didn’t argue. Instead, he took a seat on the hood of the Impala, watching Dean as he instructed Claire with a patience he rarely showed with anyone else. Or outside of the bedroom, anyway, Castiel reflected.
Dean worked with Claire for another hour, and she was hitting two out of three aluminum cans by then. Dean beamed at her with pride, and Castiel wished he could make Dean look at him like that-look at him again with anything but shuttered wariness.
~~~~~
Dean pulled himself under the chassis of the car, surveying the damage done by the antlers of the buck the driver had run over. “Looks like some serious damage, Ted,” Dean called. “At least three days.”
“Work up an estimate,” Ted replied. “Then let me know.”
“You got it, boss.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Dean grinned up at the damaged chassis. “Yeah, okay.”
The grin faded almost immediately; his attempts at forgetting what Castiel had said weren’t working.
He focused on the damage, on how much each part was going to cost, plus labor. Dean had a working estimate an hour later, and had talked the car’s owner into a new timing belt, since she was due.
Dean had paused to drink deeply from a cold bottle of water when Sam walked into the shop. “Hey, Sam.” Dean wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “What are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d stop by for lunch.” Sam held up a paper sack from Dean’s favorite fast food joint. “Bacon cheeseburger?”
“Thanks.” Dean wiped his hands off and dug into the sack. Sam pulled a burger out of his own sack and took a large bite. “What’s with the visit?”
Sam shrugged. “I can’t bring lunch to my big brother?”
Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, now I know you’re up to something. What’s going on, Sam?”
“You tell me.”
Dean felt anger flare. “I’m not in the mood for playing games.”
“You slept on the couch last night.”
Dean flushed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
With a shrug, Sam finished his burger in one large bite. After he swallowed it, Sam rose and deposited the bag with his remaining fries on Dean’s lap. “Okay. Why don’t you let me pick Claire up?”
“Why?”
“Give you a break. You take too much on, Dean.”
“Now you sound like Bobby.”
“Bobby’s right most of the time.”
Dean chuckled. “Don’t let him hear you say that. We’ll never live it down.”
“Go out, get something to eat, go get a drink,” Sam said. “Why don’t you let me take care of things tonight?”
“You want to get me out of the way for some reason,” Dean said suspiciously.
Sam grinned. “You got me. We’re painting the house pink.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Get out of here, Sammy. I need to work.”
Sam just flipped him off.
~~~~~
Castiel missed Dean with an ache that wouldn’t be assuaged. He sat out on the back steps of their house and wondered if he would be sleeping alone again tonight, if Dean would even talk to him before Michael returned.
He still didn’t know what he was going to do, or what he should do. Castiel wished that Dean would tell him what to do, but Dean was avoiding him.
“Hey, Cas.”
Castiel looked up to see Sam standing on his right. “Hello.”
“Beer?”
“Where’s Claire?”
“Watching TV.” Sam sat down next to him and held out a bottle of beer. “She’s safe. Your wards are the best.”
“Wards can be broken,” Castiel replied glumly.
Sam sighed audibly. “Yeah, but I think we’ll be okay out here. I wanted to talk to you.”
Castiel took a drink from his beer and didn’t respond.
“I know my brother, Cas. He’s been happier since you got back. Until yesterday, he was actually cheerful, and since he slept on the couch last night, I have to assume that you know what’s going on.”
Castiel hunched his shoulders.
“Let me help you. Dean’s upset, and it has something to do with you. Until it gets resolved, he’s going to act like an ass.” Sam wore a patient expression. “I don’t know about you, but the sooner he stops acting like a jerk, the happier I’ll be.”
Slowly, haltingly, Castiel told Sam about his dream and Michael’s offer.
“Are you sure it wasn’t just a dream?” Sam asked gently.
Castiel nodded. “I’m certain.”
“So, what? You told Dean you were going to make the switch?”
Castiel shook his head. “I asked him what he would do.”
Sam snorted. “You two really are meant for each other.”
“What do you mean?” Castiel asked defensively, hearing the exasperation in Sam’s voice.
“You’re both so willing to be martyrs when no one has asked you to,” Sam accused.
Castiel frowned. “Claire-”
“Claire is a vessel,” Sam replied. “From everything we know, the demons aren’t going to stop coming after her. She’s always going to need protection.”
“And I can give that to her?” Castiel demanded. “What can I give her that you or Dean cannot? Jimmy, at least, is her father. He would be able to comfort her.”
Sam frowned, his expression at once thoughtful and compassionate. “What do you want, Cas?”
“What?”
“What do you want?” Sam took a swig of his beer. “Being human is all about making choices, some of them right, some of them wrong.”
“I don’t want to make the wrong decision,” Castiel admitted quietly. “I don’t want to hurt Dean.”
Sam clasped Cas’ shoulder. “Don’t worry about Dean, Cas. Figure out what you want to do, what you think is right, and then you do that.”
Castiel began to shake his head, and Sam gave his shoulder a little shake. “You figured it out before, didn’t you?” Sam asked. “You disobeyed because you thought it was the right thing to do. You’ve got the right instincts; follow them.”
Sam disappeared back inside, leaving Castiel to stare up at the stars. The opportunity to make his own choices was something he hadn’t considered when he’d disobeyed; Castiel had followed Dean because of his love, and because Castiel had believed that Dean was right.
Now, Castiel would have to make another choice, and he wasn’t sure that love should guide him.
~~~~~
Dean let himself into the house well after midnight. He stripped his jacket off and threw it over the ancient rust colored recliner, fully intent on collapsing on the couch and sleeping off his beer buzz.
He paused when he sensed a presence in the room, slowly turning to face Castiel, who was perched on the edge of the couch, hands on his knees, spine stiff. His posture reminded Dean of the old days, when Cas had a stick rammed up his ass.
“Cas? I thought you’d be in bed.”
“I don’t want to sleep alone.”
Dean sighed. “Yeah, I’m sorry, I just-”
“I talked to Sam.” Castiel looked up to meet Dean’s eyes. “I’m staying.”
Dean thought his heart had skipped a beat. “What?”
Castiel rose slowly. “I realized that I cannot change what’s already done.”
“Nobody can.” Dean took a step forward. “What’s this about?”
“You.” Castiel’s eyes shone in the dim light that filtered through the front window from the streetlight. “I won’t leave you. I disobeyed for you, and this-” He gestured to himself. “This is part of the consequences. I won’t run from that.”
Dean frowned. “And Jimmy?”
A rueful smile tilted Castiel’s lips. “Jimmy is with his Father. I’ve been to heaven, Dean. I know that he is safe. Protecting Claire will be my way of honoring his memory, and his sacrifice.” He smiled knowingly. “And you need me.”
Dean blinked. “I do, huh?”
“Yes, you do.” Castiel took a step closer to him. “I’m not going to leave you.”
Dean looked away, struggling to contain his emotions. Now that Cas had announced his intentions of staying, Dean could admit how much he hadn’t wanted to let Cas go.
“Dean?”
He realized that it was taking him too long to respond. “What are you going to tell Michael?”
“I’m going to tell him that I’m needed here.” Cas’ voice was fierce. “I’m going to tell him to stay the hell away from my family.”
Dean surged forward, grabbing Cas’ face between his hands, kissing him desperately. Cas pushed his denim shirt off of his shoulders, and it floated to the floor. Dean pushed his hands under the hem of Cas’ t-shirt, pulling it off over his head, relieved to feel warm, bare skin.
“Our room,” Dean muttered in Cas’ ear. “If Claire or Sam come out to the kitchen…”
He left the consequences unspoken and allowed Cas to lead the way to their bedroom. As soon as the door was closed behind them, Cas shoved him towards the bed, running his hands down Dean’s chest possessively, then pulling Dean’s t-shirt off.
“I can’t let you go,” Castiel murmured. “I may be selfish, but I cannot let you go.”
Dean couldn’t find the words to reply; he simply raised his head and captured Cas’ mouth with his in a long, hungry kiss.
~~~~~
Castiel had tried to stay awake all night; even though he had made his decision, he had no desire to face off with Michael again. Dean’s deep, even breathing next to him had a soporific effect, however, and he couldn’t help but drift off.
“I see you made your choice.”
This time, they were standing in the same clearing where Castiel had first awoken as a human, and Michael stood behind him.
“I did,” Castiel replied evenly, turning slowly to face the archangel, trying not to let his knees shake too much. He tried to channel some of Dean’s arrogance and kept his back straight and his chin up.
Michael sneered. “You’re being selfish.”
Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me, Michael. Where is Jimmy Novak’s soul?” Castiel already knew the answer, but he sought confirmation.
“Why do you ask?” He sensed, rather than saw, Michael’s discomfort.
“Because I would like to know.”
“He has gone to his reward, as has Amelia.”
“Then it would be selfish of me to wish the pain of the world on him again, instead of choosing to stay, and take his place.”
There was a moment of shock, and then a peal of delighted laughter from Michael. “Ah, I see you’re learning what it means to be human. Choices are difficult.”
Castiel squared his shoulders. “I have been given a gift.”
“So you have.” Michael smiled. “Use it well, Castiel.”
Feeling bolder, he called out, “Wait! What about Claire?”
“What about her?”
Since Michael sounded intrigued rather than forbidding, Castiel pressed forward. “Will you protect her? At least until she can protect herself. She is just a child.”
Michael shook his head. “She is already protected,” he replied, giving Castiel a meaningful look. “And we have given her what she needs to heal. Besides, we are leaving. Angels will not walk the earth again, not in your lifetime.”
The archangel reached for Castiel, and Michael’s words echoed in his head. “Goodbye, little brother.”
Castiel woke abruptly, as though he had been thrown out of the dream. The bedroom was still dark, the air close. He could feel the thin sheen of sweat on his chest and forehead, the beat of his heart, the stickiness that remained after he and Dean had collapsed after sex.
He remembered what Dean had said about being human, and what made it worth it, and thought of his own list: coffee, Bobby’s chili, Claire’s shy smile when she was truly delighted, sex. Dean.
Castiel rolled onto his side, reaching out to touch Dean’s cheek with his free hand, then fitting his palm over the scar on Dean’s shoulder. It was a perfect fit, as it should be.
“You okay?” Dean asked quietly, surprisingly alert.
Castiel nodded. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”
“Did you see him?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell him to fuck off?”
Castiel smirked. “Not in so many words.”
“You should have,” Dean mumbled. “Probably won’t get another chance.”
“Probably not,” Castiel agreed, his love for Dean swelling up to fill the empty places inside of him. “But I’m staying.”
“Good.” Dean scooted closer, and Castiel ran a hand over Dean’s hair. “Tattoo tomorrow,” Dean murmured into Castiel’s chest.
“I remember.” Castiel pressed a kiss to the top of Dean’s head.
~~~~~
Dean kept a careful eye on Cas as he stirred the eggs on the stove. Castiel had insisted that Dean show him how to make breakfast, and so he was the one at the stove, his hair sticking up in spikes on one side, flattened on the other, looking rumpled and sleepy.
Claire had already started on her breakfast, an open book in front of her as she absent-mindedly ate a piece of toast. “Uncle Cas?”
Dean saw the surprise flare in Cas’ eyes at Claire’s form of address; she usually avoided saying his name at all. “Yes, Claire?”
“Can we go to church on Sunday?”
Cas threw a panicked look at Dean, who shrugged.
“Why do you want to go?” Castiel finally asked.
Claire kept her eyes on her book, her cheeks flushing. “I just-I had a dream last night.”
“What sort of dream?” Dean asked, trying to keep his tone casual.
Claire’s cheeks flushed a deeper pink. “It’s kind of private.”
“We can go to church,” Castiel assured her. “Just tell me which one you would like to attend.”
Claire smiled at him, her eyes bright. “Thanks.”
Sam stumbled into the kitchen. “Coffee?”
“In the pot,” Dean replied, pulling the bread out of the toaster.
“Oh, and why are your clothes in the living room?” Sam asked, after he took his first sip.
Dean met Cas’ eyes, and Cas smirked, looking far too pleased with himself. “None of your business,” Dean replied firmly. He threw the toast on the plate and handed it to his nosy little brother.
“Eat.”
Sam just sat down next to Claire, grinning insolently as he asked her about what she was reading. Dean let her explanation fade into the background as he glanced over at Cas, staring intently at the eggs, as though determined to get it right.
Dean grinned. As strange as it might seem, his life was pretty damn good.
~~~~~
Castiel studied his reflection in the mirror; he had finally begun to feel as though his face-his body-was his own, and not a vessel borrowed for a limited amount of time. He touched the newly-smooth skin of his jaw, and grimaced at his unruly hair. Castiel had no idea whether he should try to do something else with it for church, but what that would be…
With a shrug, Castiel looped the familiar blue tie around his neck and exited the bathroom, nearly running into Dean.
“Hey,” Dean said with a sleepy smile. “You still planning on taking Claire to church?”
“Would you like to come with us?” Castiel asked, aware that Dean would likely turn him down.
Dean shook his head, his nimble fingers already going to Cas’ tie, expertly beginning to flip one end over the other. “No, it’s not really my thing.”
“I’m not sure that it’s mine either.”
“But you’re doing it for Claire,” Dean said softly, adjusting Castiel’s collar and tie in a tender gesture.
Cas smiled. “She’s asked me for so little. It’s the least I could do.”
“We’re going out to Bobby’s after,” Dean reminded him. His fingers ghosted unerringly over the still-tender patch of skin where Castiel’s new tattoo had been marked. “He said something about grilling.”
“That sounds good.” Castiel clasped Dean’s hand. “I’ll see you in a little while?”
“Yeah, sure.” A goofy grin crossed Dean’s face, and he leaned in to press a quick kiss to Castiel’s lips.
Claire was waiting for Cas in the living room, wearing a skirt and blouse, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Ready?” she asked hopefully.
“Is this all right?” Castiel asked, waving to his white shirt, blue tie, and black suit pants. Dean had assured him that he didn’t need the suit jacket, and that this would be appropriate attire for church.
Claire smiled, her expression almost affectionate. “It’s great, Uncle Cas.”
The church was only a few blocks away, so they walked side by side in companionable silence. The cool morning air played over his face and bare forearms, while the bright sunlight made him squint.
“How’s the sunburn?” Claire asked.
Cas glanced down at his now tanned arms. “Dean tells me that I probably won’t burn so easily next time.”
“Yeah.” Claire went quiet in the way she did when she was thinking of her parents. “That’s how Dad was.”
Castiel didn’t know how to respond, but he knew that running away wasn’t an option. “Claire, I’m sorry about your father.”
“I know.” Claire kept her gaze on the ground in front of her. “But I think he’s in a better place.”
“I believe that as well.”
“Uncle Cas?”
“Yes?”
“Are you with Uncle Dean?”
Castiel hesitated. “Yes.” He realized belatedly that Claire might be upset about this. “Are you okay with our relationship?”
“Do you love him?” Claire countered.
“Yes.” Castiel had no doubt about that.
Claire shrugged. “I guess if you love each other, then it’s okay.”
“Thank you.”
“Sometimes I dream about being an angel,” Claire said softly. “It’s amazing.”
Castiel smiled. “It is, but being human is better.”
Chapter 8
Castiel watched as Dean patiently demonstrated how best to sight a target with a small pistol. Claire watched Dean’s actions intently, looking out of place on the makeshift range with her face still round with baby fat, long blond hair, and pink barrettes. She was the picture of innocence, but when Dean handed her the weapon, she removed the safety and brought the gun up to firing position like a pro.
“Good,” Dean praised. “You’re going to fire on the exhale, and remember the recoil. It can come as a surprise the first time around.”
Claire breathed out and squeezed the trigger; Castiel could see the cement splinters fly from the cinderblock wall where Dean had set up the soda cans.
“Good,” Dean repeated. “That was close. We’ll keep practicing until you can hit every single one.”
“Demons won’t die from bullets, though. Bobby told me.” Claire’s face was raised to Dean’s, but Castiel could see the terrible loss of innocence from her eyes. “You have to use a knife, or a special gun.”
“Or an exorcism,” Dean added. “What do you need for an exorcism, Cas?”
Castiel sighed, wishing he could still perform an exorcism with the touch of his hand. Still, he knew the answer. “Salt, holy water, and the exorcism ritual. Faith helps, too.”
Dean nodded and turned to Claire. “Your job is to get away from demons, not fight them. If someone has to exorcise a demon, it’s not going to be you. You get me, you get Cas, or you get Sam. Hear me?”
Claire nodded, gulping at Dean’s harsh tone.
Dean pulled her into a quick hug. “Let’s try this again. We’re going to make a sharpshooter out of you in no time.”
“What about Uncle Cas?” Claire asked. “Isn’t he going to shoot?”
Dean grimaced. “Yeah, I’ll teach him. Starting next week.”
“Why next week?” Claire asked.
Castiel turned away, already feeling the distance that Dean had put between them. “Because we’re focusing on you right now, kiddo. I’ll give Cas a lesson some other night. Now, let’s try again.”
Castiel didn’t argue. Instead, he took a seat on the hood of the Impala, watching Dean as he instructed Claire with a patience he rarely showed with anyone else. Or outside of the bedroom, anyway, Castiel reflected.
Dean worked with Claire for another hour, and she was hitting two out of three aluminum cans by then. Dean beamed at her with pride, and Castiel wished he could make Dean look at him like that-look at him again with anything but shuttered wariness.
~~~~~
Dean pulled himself under the chassis of the car, surveying the damage done by the antlers of the buck the driver had run over. “Looks like some serious damage, Ted,” Dean called. “At least three days.”
“Work up an estimate,” Ted replied. “Then let me know.”
“You got it, boss.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Dean grinned up at the damaged chassis. “Yeah, okay.”
The grin faded almost immediately; his attempts at forgetting what Castiel had said weren’t working.
He focused on the damage, on how much each part was going to cost, plus labor. Dean had a working estimate an hour later, and had talked the car’s owner into a new timing belt, since she was due.
Dean had paused to drink deeply from a cold bottle of water when Sam walked into the shop. “Hey, Sam.” Dean wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “What are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d stop by for lunch.” Sam held up a paper sack from Dean’s favorite fast food joint. “Bacon cheeseburger?”
“Thanks.” Dean wiped his hands off and dug into the sack. Sam pulled a burger out of his own sack and took a large bite. “What’s with the visit?”
Sam shrugged. “I can’t bring lunch to my big brother?”
Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, now I know you’re up to something. What’s going on, Sam?”
“You tell me.”
Dean felt anger flare. “I’m not in the mood for playing games.”
“You slept on the couch last night.”
Dean flushed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
With a shrug, Sam finished his burger in one large bite. After he swallowed it, Sam rose and deposited the bag with his remaining fries on Dean’s lap. “Okay. Why don’t you let me pick Claire up?”
“Why?”
“Give you a break. You take too much on, Dean.”
“Now you sound like Bobby.”
“Bobby’s right most of the time.”
Dean chuckled. “Don’t let him hear you say that. We’ll never live it down.”
“Go out, get something to eat, go get a drink,” Sam said. “Why don’t you let me take care of things tonight?”
“You want to get me out of the way for some reason,” Dean said suspiciously.
Sam grinned. “You got me. We’re painting the house pink.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Get out of here, Sammy. I need to work.”
Sam just flipped him off.
~~~~~
Castiel missed Dean with an ache that wouldn’t be assuaged. He sat out on the back steps of their house and wondered if he would be sleeping alone again tonight, if Dean would even talk to him before Michael returned.
He still didn’t know what he was going to do, or what he should do. Castiel wished that Dean would tell him what to do, but Dean was avoiding him.
“Hey, Cas.”
Castiel looked up to see Sam standing on his right. “Hello.”
“Beer?”
“Where’s Claire?”
“Watching TV.” Sam sat down next to him and held out a bottle of beer. “She’s safe. Your wards are the best.”
“Wards can be broken,” Castiel replied glumly.
Sam sighed audibly. “Yeah, but I think we’ll be okay out here. I wanted to talk to you.”
Castiel took a drink from his beer and didn’t respond.
“I know my brother, Cas. He’s been happier since you got back. Until yesterday, he was actually cheerful, and since he slept on the couch last night, I have to assume that you know what’s going on.”
Castiel hunched his shoulders.
“Let me help you. Dean’s upset, and it has something to do with you. Until it gets resolved, he’s going to act like an ass.” Sam wore a patient expression. “I don’t know about you, but the sooner he stops acting like a jerk, the happier I’ll be.”
Slowly, haltingly, Castiel told Sam about his dream and Michael’s offer.
“Are you sure it wasn’t just a dream?” Sam asked gently.
Castiel nodded. “I’m certain.”
“So, what? You told Dean you were going to make the switch?”
Castiel shook his head. “I asked him what he would do.”
Sam snorted. “You two really are meant for each other.”
“What do you mean?” Castiel asked defensively, hearing the exasperation in Sam’s voice.
“You’re both so willing to be martyrs when no one has asked you to,” Sam accused.
Castiel frowned. “Claire-”
“Claire is a vessel,” Sam replied. “From everything we know, the demons aren’t going to stop coming after her. She’s always going to need protection.”
“And I can give that to her?” Castiel demanded. “What can I give her that you or Dean cannot? Jimmy, at least, is her father. He would be able to comfort her.”
Sam frowned, his expression at once thoughtful and compassionate. “What do you want, Cas?”
“What?”
“What do you want?” Sam took a swig of his beer. “Being human is all about making choices, some of them right, some of them wrong.”
“I don’t want to make the wrong decision,” Castiel admitted quietly. “I don’t want to hurt Dean.”
Sam clasped Cas’ shoulder. “Don’t worry about Dean, Cas. Figure out what you want to do, what you think is right, and then you do that.”
Castiel began to shake his head, and Sam gave his shoulder a little shake. “You figured it out before, didn’t you?” Sam asked. “You disobeyed because you thought it was the right thing to do. You’ve got the right instincts; follow them.”
Sam disappeared back inside, leaving Castiel to stare up at the stars. The opportunity to make his own choices was something he hadn’t considered when he’d disobeyed; Castiel had followed Dean because of his love, and because Castiel had believed that Dean was right.
Now, Castiel would have to make another choice, and he wasn’t sure that love should guide him.
~~~~~
Dean let himself into the house well after midnight. He stripped his jacket off and threw it over the ancient rust colored recliner, fully intent on collapsing on the couch and sleeping off his beer buzz.
He paused when he sensed a presence in the room, slowly turning to face Castiel, who was perched on the edge of the couch, hands on his knees, spine stiff. His posture reminded Dean of the old days, when Cas had a stick rammed up his ass.
“Cas? I thought you’d be in bed.”
“I don’t want to sleep alone.”
Dean sighed. “Yeah, I’m sorry, I just-”
“I talked to Sam.” Castiel looked up to meet Dean’s eyes. “I’m staying.”
Dean thought his heart had skipped a beat. “What?”
Castiel rose slowly. “I realized that I cannot change what’s already done.”
“Nobody can.” Dean took a step forward. “What’s this about?”
“You.” Castiel’s eyes shone in the dim light that filtered through the front window from the streetlight. “I won’t leave you. I disobeyed for you, and this-” He gestured to himself. “This is part of the consequences. I won’t run from that.”
Dean frowned. “And Jimmy?”
A rueful smile tilted Castiel’s lips. “Jimmy is with his Father. I’ve been to heaven, Dean. I know that he is safe. Protecting Claire will be my way of honoring his memory, and his sacrifice.” He smiled knowingly. “And you need me.”
Dean blinked. “I do, huh?”
“Yes, you do.” Castiel took a step closer to him. “I’m not going to leave you.”
Dean looked away, struggling to contain his emotions. Now that Cas had announced his intentions of staying, Dean could admit how much he hadn’t wanted to let Cas go.
“Dean?”
He realized that it was taking him too long to respond. “What are you going to tell Michael?”
“I’m going to tell him that I’m needed here.” Cas’ voice was fierce. “I’m going to tell him to stay the hell away from my family.”
Dean surged forward, grabbing Cas’ face between his hands, kissing him desperately. Cas pushed his denim shirt off of his shoulders, and it floated to the floor. Dean pushed his hands under the hem of Cas’ t-shirt, pulling it off over his head, relieved to feel warm, bare skin.
“Our room,” Dean muttered in Cas’ ear. “If Claire or Sam come out to the kitchen…”
He left the consequences unspoken and allowed Cas to lead the way to their bedroom. As soon as the door was closed behind them, Cas shoved him towards the bed, running his hands down Dean’s chest possessively, then pulling Dean’s t-shirt off.
“I can’t let you go,” Castiel murmured. “I may be selfish, but I cannot let you go.”
Dean couldn’t find the words to reply; he simply raised his head and captured Cas’ mouth with his in a long, hungry kiss.
~~~~~
Castiel had tried to stay awake all night; even though he had made his decision, he had no desire to face off with Michael again. Dean’s deep, even breathing next to him had a soporific effect, however, and he couldn’t help but drift off.
“I see you made your choice.”
This time, they were standing in the same clearing where Castiel had first awoken as a human, and Michael stood behind him.
“I did,” Castiel replied evenly, turning slowly to face the archangel, trying not to let his knees shake too much. He tried to channel some of Dean’s arrogance and kept his back straight and his chin up.
Michael sneered. “You’re being selfish.”
Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me, Michael. Where is Jimmy Novak’s soul?” Castiel already knew the answer, but he sought confirmation.
“Why do you ask?” He sensed, rather than saw, Michael’s discomfort.
“Because I would like to know.”
“He has gone to his reward, as has Amelia.”
“Then it would be selfish of me to wish the pain of the world on him again, instead of choosing to stay, and take his place.”
There was a moment of shock, and then a peal of delighted laughter from Michael. “Ah, I see you’re learning what it means to be human. Choices are difficult.”
Castiel squared his shoulders. “I have been given a gift.”
“So you have.” Michael smiled. “Use it well, Castiel.”
Feeling bolder, he called out, “Wait! What about Claire?”
“What about her?”
Since Michael sounded intrigued rather than forbidding, Castiel pressed forward. “Will you protect her? At least until she can protect herself. She is just a child.”
Michael shook his head. “She is already protected,” he replied, giving Castiel a meaningful look. “And we have given her what she needs to heal. Besides, we are leaving. Angels will not walk the earth again, not in your lifetime.”
The archangel reached for Castiel, and Michael’s words echoed in his head. “Goodbye, little brother.”
Castiel woke abruptly, as though he had been thrown out of the dream. The bedroom was still dark, the air close. He could feel the thin sheen of sweat on his chest and forehead, the beat of his heart, the stickiness that remained after he and Dean had collapsed after sex.
He remembered what Dean had said about being human, and what made it worth it, and thought of his own list: coffee, Bobby’s chili, Claire’s shy smile when she was truly delighted, sex. Dean.
Castiel rolled onto his side, reaching out to touch Dean’s cheek with his free hand, then fitting his palm over the scar on Dean’s shoulder. It was a perfect fit, as it should be.
“You okay?” Dean asked quietly, surprisingly alert.
Castiel nodded. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”
“Did you see him?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell him to fuck off?”
Castiel smirked. “Not in so many words.”
“You should have,” Dean mumbled. “Probably won’t get another chance.”
“Probably not,” Castiel agreed, his love for Dean swelling up to fill the empty places inside of him. “But I’m staying.”
“Good.” Dean scooted closer, and Castiel ran a hand over Dean’s hair. “Tattoo tomorrow,” Dean murmured into Castiel’s chest.
“I remember.” Castiel pressed a kiss to the top of Dean’s head.
~~~~~
Dean kept a careful eye on Cas as he stirred the eggs on the stove. Castiel had insisted that Dean show him how to make breakfast, and so he was the one at the stove, his hair sticking up in spikes on one side, flattened on the other, looking rumpled and sleepy.
Claire had already started on her breakfast, an open book in front of her as she absent-mindedly ate a piece of toast. “Uncle Cas?”
Dean saw the surprise flare in Cas’ eyes at Claire’s form of address; she usually avoided saying his name at all. “Yes, Claire?”
“Can we go to church on Sunday?”
Cas threw a panicked look at Dean, who shrugged.
“Why do you want to go?” Castiel finally asked.
Claire kept her eyes on her book, her cheeks flushing. “I just-I had a dream last night.”
“What sort of dream?” Dean asked, trying to keep his tone casual.
Claire’s cheeks flushed a deeper pink. “It’s kind of private.”
“We can go to church,” Castiel assured her. “Just tell me which one you would like to attend.”
Claire smiled at him, her eyes bright. “Thanks.”
Sam stumbled into the kitchen. “Coffee?”
“In the pot,” Dean replied, pulling the bread out of the toaster.
“Oh, and why are your clothes in the living room?” Sam asked, after he took his first sip.
Dean met Cas’ eyes, and Cas smirked, looking far too pleased with himself. “None of your business,” Dean replied firmly. He threw the toast on the plate and handed it to his nosy little brother.
“Eat.”
Sam just sat down next to Claire, grinning insolently as he asked her about what she was reading. Dean let her explanation fade into the background as he glanced over at Cas, staring intently at the eggs, as though determined to get it right.
Dean grinned. As strange as it might seem, his life was pretty damn good.
~~~~~
Castiel studied his reflection in the mirror; he had finally begun to feel as though his face-his body-was his own, and not a vessel borrowed for a limited amount of time. He touched the newly-smooth skin of his jaw, and grimaced at his unruly hair. Castiel had no idea whether he should try to do something else with it for church, but what that would be…
With a shrug, Castiel looped the familiar blue tie around his neck and exited the bathroom, nearly running into Dean.
“Hey,” Dean said with a sleepy smile. “You still planning on taking Claire to church?”
“Would you like to come with us?” Castiel asked, aware that Dean would likely turn him down.
Dean shook his head, his nimble fingers already going to Cas’ tie, expertly beginning to flip one end over the other. “No, it’s not really my thing.”
“I’m not sure that it’s mine either.”
“But you’re doing it for Claire,” Dean said softly, adjusting Castiel’s collar and tie in a tender gesture.
Cas smiled. “She’s asked me for so little. It’s the least I could do.”
“We’re going out to Bobby’s after,” Dean reminded him. His fingers ghosted unerringly over the still-tender patch of skin where Castiel’s new tattoo had been marked. “He said something about grilling.”
“That sounds good.” Castiel clasped Dean’s hand. “I’ll see you in a little while?”
“Yeah, sure.” A goofy grin crossed Dean’s face, and he leaned in to press a quick kiss to Castiel’s lips.
Claire was waiting for Cas in the living room, wearing a skirt and blouse, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Ready?” she asked hopefully.
“Is this all right?” Castiel asked, waving to his white shirt, blue tie, and black suit pants. Dean had assured him that he didn’t need the suit jacket, and that this would be appropriate attire for church.
Claire smiled, her expression almost affectionate. “It’s great, Uncle Cas.”
The church was only a few blocks away, so they walked side by side in companionable silence. The cool morning air played over his face and bare forearms, while the bright sunlight made him squint.
“How’s the sunburn?” Claire asked.
Cas glanced down at his now tanned arms. “Dean tells me that I probably won’t burn so easily next time.”
“Yeah.” Claire went quiet in the way she did when she was thinking of her parents. “That’s how Dad was.”
Castiel didn’t know how to respond, but he knew that running away wasn’t an option. “Claire, I’m sorry about your father.”
“I know.” Claire kept her gaze on the ground in front of her. “But I think he’s in a better place.”
“I believe that as well.”
“Uncle Cas?”
“Yes?”
“Are you with Uncle Dean?”
Castiel hesitated. “Yes.” He realized belatedly that Claire might be upset about this. “Are you okay with our relationship?”
“Do you love him?” Claire countered.
“Yes.” Castiel had no doubt about that.
Claire shrugged. “I guess if you love each other, then it’s okay.”
“Thank you.”
“Sometimes I dream about being an angel,” Claire said softly. “It’s amazing.”
Castiel smiled. “It is, but being human is better.”