Endings and Beginnings
It had been completely by accident that he'd found the first note. He'd been sitting in the Impala with Sam and Bobby, reeling from what had happened. Cass was a God. He'd snapped his fingers and Raphy, one of the archangels, had exploded like an over-ripe grapefruit dropped from the top of a ten story building. He and Sam had been arguing
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Castiel was conscious of perhaps half of Dean's plan. The box, siphoning off the souls, and that he'd managed to lay hands on a book that had been used in conjunction with the care and keeping of Famine. He did not, however, know about the noose. He assumed Dean had some kind of idea about how to get him to go along, but he had seen nothing of his true plan. Whatever that plan was, Castiel was confident that it wouldn't work and that he was so much faster than Dean was now that he wouldn't fall into it. He was far, far too powerful to be ensnared by some hoodoo that Dean had come by, far too powerful for some old relic.
Castiel was far too confident for his own good.
He was missing things.
A God could see into the hearts and minds of his creations. A God was aware when he was being played the fool. Perhaps the trouble was that Dean, these humans, they were not Castiel's creations. Castiel was merely stepping in. It was the lie he told himself to fill the gap in between what was and what should be. Dean wasn't lying to him, but he was playing this hand close to his heart and a God would know the nuances beneath the words.
He was not a God.
Dean looked exhausted. His eyes were red, and it appeared that he had been drinking. Castiel felt that he must have come to his senses, that he had decided it wasn't possible and wasn't worth the risk to try. Because it wasn't worth the risk to try. Castiel was not himself anymore. He was so much bigger, so much more powerful, that he wasn't sure that what was called Castiel was even still there to be saved. Even if there was, Dean wasn't capable of saving him.
Castiel watched Dean stand, watched him come closer. When he stated his purpose for coming here, Castiel reached out his hand and lay it on Dean's shoulder. He gripped tightly, and the feeling from the touch was nothing like it used to be. Where it had once been warmth and comfort, it was hot now, just this side of too hot to be still contained in human form.
There was a hint of a smile, but it was knowing and victorious where once it was kind and perhaps a touch naive.
"Bow before me, then, and swear."
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The way Cass smiled at him hurt. The last time Cass had asked for allegiance he'd been hurting and conflicted, and had willingly accepted the vaguest, most meaningless words Dean had been able to string together. The way Cass smiled it was as if he was winning.
But Dean obeyed. He slid down so that he was on his knees, looking up into those blue eyes with his hazels, as if he was searching, looking for a shred of the Cass he'd known. He didn't seem to find whatever he'd been looking for, however, and if anything that only seemed to steel his resolve that he needed to swear to him, that Cass needed to hear this. He'd never thought that if he managed to admit to how he felt instead of hiding behind the convenient buffer that he was 'family', it would be like this.
"I swear myself to you, Castiel."
His voice shook a little as he said it, so much tension in the air. The moon was hiding behind the clouds, and the streetlamps offered only the barest sort of orange illumination.
"...I love you."
His voice choked a little as he said it. As hard as it was to conceive of saying it before, it was so much harder now. He meant it. There was so much truth in those words, even with how different Cass was, Dean still meant it. But, there was also almost immeasurable hurt and heartbreak and need in those three words too.
"You, uh, you have my loyalty, and.. I will never forsake you, Castiel. "
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