Create the Light Part 3

[mayalaen]

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"How much longer do I need to keep drinking this shit?" Sam asked, grimacing as he looked down at the concoction he'd been drinking for a few months.

"Three months," Cas said as he sat on the mat, pointing his toes, then relaxing over and over again, trying to strengthen his leg.

"It's terrible," Sam said, not complaining so much as just telling Cas in his own way that he was still thankful for the cure.

The cure that Cas shouldn't have given him. The one that meant Sam didn't almost die. The one that meant Gadreel would never be possessing Sam.

Sam wouldn't feel betrayed, wouldn't split up with Dean, wouldn't hold a grudge, wouldn't rely more on Cas for help than he should have. He might not even rely on Charlie as much. He might listen to Dean about not getting Charlie involved. Dean might not lose so much that he'd decide to summon Death.

"Did you do it on purpose?" Sam asked, lowering himself down onto another mat before sipping his shake.

Cas couldn't figure out what Sam meant, and he really hoped he hadn't been thinking out loud. "What?" he asked.

"Did you take the injury so Dean wouldn't have to?" Sam asked, gesturing to Cas' leg.

Cas sighed. "No," he admitted. "I thought about it, but I think it was part of the reason he settled down."

"If you didn't do it on purpose, then what happened?" Sam asked, politely ignoring the part where Cas may have fucked up their future.

"Living in my head changed more than just my personality," Cas said. "I don't know how to explain it, but I was out of practice. I hadn't hunted in years, hadn't had to shoot something while trying to get away from it at the same time. I missed those shots, but I didn't mean to."

Sam's eyes widened. "Out of practice?" he asked.

"Yes," Cas said, nodding.

"Cas, do you have any idea what that could mean?" Sam asked, a bit of excitement in his voice, though he was trying to keep himself calm.

"It means muscle memory isn't nearly as connected to the physical muscles as humans assume it is," Cas said, shrugging.

"Or," Sam prodded.

"Or what?"

"Cas, the first time around, did you get knocked unconscious in the witch's house?" Sam asked.

"Yes, she hit me, I went down, but I woke up when Dean shook me," Cas said.

"What if you really did live out those years and they weren't just in your head?" Sam said.

"I don't understand," Cas said, face screwing up in confusion.

"What if you hit some sort of time loop thing," Sam said, forgetting his shake and nearly dumping it onto the mat as he used his arms to gesture. "What if there was more to that spell than either of us realized and you just lived out the next few years, we all did, but then you got snapped back here after some sort of time limit or maybe something that she wanted you to see."

"If that's true," Cas said, "then Dean's going to leave me."

"No, no," Sam said, shaking his head. "Because you've been there. You know what went wrong. You can change it."

Cas sighed, remembering how happy they'd been, and how devastating it was when all they'd had was destroyed in just a few months. "Everything changed near the end. We were so happy, so in love, and then, I don't know. Suddenly I was seeing everything through Dean's eyes, and that's when things went bad."

"Wait, you never said that part before," Sam said, nose scrunching up. "You were living Dean's life?"

"No," Cas said, shaking his head. "It was more like I was still me, but I felt everything Dean was feeling, and I saw everything from his point of view."

"That kinda blows my newest theory," Sam said. "But how's that possible? How could you be seeing things from his point of view, even if it was a fantasy world made up for you?"

"I'm not sure," Cas said. "But the more time I spend here in the real world, the more I doubt myself, the more I wonder if we were ever going to be happy together long-term. Or maybe I was finally realizing the whole thing was just a fantasy."

"Or Dean got to you first out here in the real world," Sam said, shrugging. "He was touching you to check for injuries, talking to you, trying to get you to wake up. Maybe you started seeing things through his eyes because he was breaking you out of that world and you were fighting it. He was the villain for just a few moments, and in your head it was months."

"Even so," Cas said, feeling lost, "I don't know what to do. I've changed so much, things I shouldn't have."

"Like what?" Sam asked. "I thought you said we're still basically on the same path other than your injury."

"We are," Cas lied. Telling Sam what Dean had done the first time around wasn't an option. He couldn't do that to them. "Even with my injury. The only difference has been Dean's pushing me through physical therapy. In my head Dean did most of it himself."

"So you're worried you're getting too close to him too fast," Sam said, lips thinning and brow furrowing.

"He's already more comfortable touching me," Cas said. "That didn't happen until we'd been sleeping in the same bed for almost three months because of my nightmares."

"Without telling me in great detail," Sam said, wincing, "what was the next step? What got you guys moving from platonic to sexual? Maybe you can just put that off longer."

"You know Dean," Cas said, smiling sadly. "And I think you know the answer to that just like you did in my head."

"You did something human," Sam said, "freaked yourself out, and he didn't want you to feel funny about it, so he was his charming self and was a dork so you wouldn't feel like you were alone."

Cas' smile grew bigger. "Morning erections aren't controllable when you're human."

Sam chuckled. "Okay, well, I guess you'll just have to hope that if it does happen ahead of schedule, he doesn't freak out."

"Who's freaking out?" Dean asked from the doorway.

Cas let out a squeak, then blushed, and when Dean grinned at him, he only blushed harder, the tips of his ears feeling hot.

"Cas is freaking out because he's starving to death," Sam said, giving Cas a wink. "He's been in here working hard and you haven't made him breakfast!"

"What would you like, Cas?" Dean asked.

Cas could've answered him a million different ways, but all he said was, "Eggs. I like your eggs."

"I can do that," Dean said, giving Cas a blindingly adorable smile before turning to Sam. "Help him up, get him to the kitchen, and I'll make enough eggs to fill up all three of us."

"Okay," Sam said, getting himself up as Dean walked away. He held a hand out to Cas, then pulled him up. "It's gonna be okay, Cas."

Cas smiled, letting Sam help him to the kitchen without saying another word.

*

It was three o'clock in the morning and Cas couldn't sleep. He was fighting a losing battle because he really, really wanted to slip into Dean's bed, let Dean vanquish any fears and bad dreams. But something else Cas had learned while being human was guilt. He'd already changed so much, and it felt too good to let Dean hold him. He didn't know how many more times he could feel Dean's arms wrapped around him, smell him, snuggle into his warmth before he fucked everything up.

It wasn't that Cas had been some helpless thing. He'd been a very powerful creature for so long that nine years should have been nothing to him. But he loved being human. He'd settled right in, wrapped himself up in it, and wallowed.

He'd let Dean in, surrounded himself with Dean and made a life with him. At one time he'd been something to fear, something that would have sent most creatures and humans running, but just a few years as a human had made him soft in a way that made him blush if he thought about it too much.

His heart was racing, a sheen of sweat on his body making his sleep pants stick uncomfortably. His balls felt too warm, his skin was itchy, and even the skin between his toes felt hot.

Cas pulled himself out of bed and wandered down the hallway toward Dean's room, but stood in the doorway instead of going in. Dean didn't close his door anymore. Not after the first time he found Cas on his floor in the middle of the night.

"Stop hovering," Dean said from the bed.

Cas smiled, unable to help himself as his feet seemed to decide for him and take him to Dean's bed. Dean was already holding the blanket up, had already scooted to the far side of the bed, leaving a spot just for Cas.

"C'mon," Dean said, voice deep and rough in a way that said he had been sleeping until he felt Cas in his space.

"Sorry," Cas said as he snuggled up behind Dean in the bed.

"G'sleep," Dean mumbled.

Dean had already told him not to apologize the first two times he'd slept in Dean's bed, but Cas couldn't help but feel a little guilty, especially because he knew what Dean didn't. He knew what this would lead to.

He stared at the back of Dean's head, sharing the pillow even though he had his own pillow back in his bedroom. Dean reached back and grabbed Cas' right wrist, tossing it over Dean's own side and leaving his hand draped over Cas'.

Cas' smile grew, but he closed his eyes, moving his head just a little closer to Dean so he could smell Dean's shampoo. It wasn't anything special, but it was Dean.

*

"Stop!" Cas said, holding his hands out.

Abaddon chuckled. "Aww, you think that's really going to stop me?" she said, then twisted his leg, her inhumanly strong hand wrapped around his bad knee.

He screamed, writhing on the pavement outside the diner. It hurt more than when he'd injured it the first time. It hurt more than hitting his head on a rock. He screamed so hard he lost his breath, panicked for a moment, worried he'd never breathe again, then finally sucked in air as she twisted more, his tibia and fibula separating from his femur as if there was nothing holding them together, like his kneecap and all those muscles and tendons were strands of cotton candy.

Castiel needed his grace. He needed to stop everything he'd fucked up, but they were nowhere near the library. Abaddon hadn't touched him the first time around. She'd gone after Dean. And even though it had terrified Cas to watch Dean getting manhandled by her, he knew she wouldn't get the chance to actually follow through on her threats this time around.

But she'd caught him. She'd found him before she found Dean, and she'd used it to her advantage. It was Cas' fault. And as he lay on the pavement, the stones scraping his skin and ruining his clothing, he knew he couldn't go on like this. As much as he wanted Dean, he'd already fucked up too much. If he survived whatever Abaddon had planned for him, he had to find his grace. If Dean never decided to become more than family to Cas, at least they'd all be alive for it.

"Dean, you silly little boy!" Abaddon cackled as she dropped Cas' leg, a sickening thud he'd never forget reverberating through him as his leg hit the pavement.

"Leave him alone," Dean said, eyes wide and jaw clenched so tightly that Cas was surprised they'd understood his words.

But it was too much for Cas' human body to take, and shock set in. He couldn't hear much of the conversation, wasn't able to see what she did to Dean, but soon Sam and Dean were lifting him onto a blanket and carrying him to the car.

Dean insisted on getting into the back seat with him, wouldn't even let go of him long enough to give Sam the keys, forcing Sam to climb halfway into the back seat and fish them out of Dean's jeans pocket. Sam took off, babbling something about a hospital.

"No," Cas said.

"Yes, we're going to a hospital," Dean said.

"Sam, no," Cas said, wincing as they went through an intersection, the car bouncing, pain shooting through his body. "You have to trust me. You can't take me to the hospital. You have to take me someplace else."

"Cas...," Sam said, ready to lecture Cas on the importance of a hospital when his leg looked like mush.

"Sam, please," Cas said, knowing it would get through to Sam. "I need you to do this so I can make things right."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Dean said. "Sam, what's he talking about?"

Sam let out a sigh. "Where to, Cas?"

Cas nearly cried with relief.

*

The whole thing was anticlimactic. Sure, Dean and Sam congratulated him on finding his grace, Dean tried to drag answers out of him, and Sam ended up lying to Dean, telling his brother he'd heard it from the idiots who had cornered him in the diner. The same idiots who would have killed Sam had it not been for Abaddon telling them they could tease but not touch.

Cas went back to the bunker with them, quiet as he sat in the back seat. Sam kept turning his head just a bit to look at him, and Cas knew just what was going through Sam's head. It was the same thing that was going through Cas' head.

He'd traded his possible future with Dean because of human weakness. He'd changed things that shouldn't have been changed long before he asked Sam to drive him to the library. And when it came right down to it, Cas had been scared and in pain. Scared that his body had been broken, scared that Dean was left open and vulnerable in a setting where Cas had changed things, and those changes meant all bets were off.

Cas couldn't leave the bunker. He stayed in his room all night, then all day, door locked as he sat on the bed. Everything felt different. He wasn't as scared. He wasn't back to full power, and he wasn't sure how long it would take for his damaged wings to repair themselves, but he'd been able to heal his vessel.

Sam and Dean had both tried to get him to come out of the room, but he'd told them he was fine and just needed some time alone. Sam had tried seven times, but Dean only once, and that was nearly eight hours ago.

Cas wasn't sulking. At least that's what he told himself. He hadn't experienced his grace, the power of it in years, but instead of using it, enjoying it, he was sitting on his bed in nothing but his pajama pants, running through various scenarios, trying to figure out what he should have done, what he should do in the future, and pushing all thoughts of what he'd done to his relationship with Dean out of his head.

"Cas," Dean said from the door. This was attempt number two. Sam hadn't tried in at least three hours.

Cas sighed, leaning against the head of his bed. Even though he had his grace back, he'd been human too long. Desires and emotions and other things that just weren't logical took precedent over what he knew he should do. He wanted Dean. He wanted to hold him, to be held, and he wanted to fix it all, force The Darkness to hurry the fuck up and come already so he could have his future, because as much as he told himself he'd fucked it up, his stupidly emotional heart that had somehow grown while he'd been human was insisting he could still have Dean, could still have his husband. He wanted to let Dean in.

"I brought you some burgers," Dean said. "I know you don't need them, but... Cas, would you just open the fuckin' door?"

Dean fell in, stumbling and catching himself as suddenly the door was open, nothing keeping him out. Dean frowned at him. "I'll let you get away with that because you look like shit."

Cas' eyes tracked Dean as he set the plate down on the end of the bed, two burgers just the way Cas liked them along with some potato chips adorning the plate. And Cas didn't need them, Dean was right, but he wanted.

"Sam told me to leave you alone," Dean said, then smirked. "But I didn't listen."

Cas leaned forward and grabbed the plate. "Thank you," he said, picking up a burger and taking a big bite.

He closed his eyes, moaning at the taste. He knew now that being human was all about the senses, and even though he had his grace back, he pushed it down until he could enjoy everything through his vessel. It felt good. Like a band-aid on a gaping wound.

"So are you okay?" Dean asked, stance practically screaming awkward.

But it was charming, because Cas knew Dean better than he did nine years ago. He knew Dean wanted to fix whatever was wrong and hold him and make Cas feel better. He knew Dean would get pissed if he said anything about it, but that if he asked Dean to stay, he would.

"I have my grace back," Cas said, not really answering the question.

"Yeah, I kinda noticed that," Dean said. "I also noticed you didn't fly off and leave us for someplace more exciting."

Dean was fishing. It was adorable and sweet and more like Cas' husband than Cas had seen in weeks.

"I can't fly," Cas said.

Dean's face screwed up in confusion. "But I thought...," he started.

"They're damaged," Cas said, interrupting him.

"Oh," Dean said, shoulders dropping a little as he winced. "Is there anything we can do about it?"

"Give them time to heal," Cas said, then took another bite of his burger.

"Does it hurt?" Dean asked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

It was a posture Cas had become very familiar with. It meant Dean was upset and worried, that he wanted to have something to do, some way of making everything right, but he felt useless, powerless. Cas knew how that felt.

"It does," Cas said with a nod. "But not nearly as much as having my leg twisted apart."

Cas wished he could take it back as soon as the words were out there. Dean looked devastated.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," Dean said.

"It's not your fault," Cas said.

"It kinda is," Dean said.

"No, it really isn't."

Dean frowned, then walked to the small desk in Cas' room, pulling out the chair and straddling it, facing Cas. "Yeah, it is. She knows how much you and Sam mean to me. She knew she could use it against me. She probably thought it would scare me into leaving her alone, letting her do whatever the fuck she wants as long as she left you alone."

"Did it work?" Cas asked.

Dean let out a humorless chuckle as he shook his head. "Fuck, no. I wanna hurt her. I wanna stop her. I wanna make her scream in pain for what she did to you."

This was it. This was how Cas could fix things. Well, maybe not fix things between him and Dean, but this is how he could make up for saving Sam, saving Kevin, and for being selfish and human.

"You can't," Cas said, already knowing Dean could.

"I'm gonna find out how," Dean said. "I'm gonna find a way. There's gotta be. And I'm gonna do it. You've known me long enough you should know if there's a way, I'll find it."

"Okay," Cas said, giving in easily, a little bit of a shrug.

"I will," Dean insisted.

Cas managed to keep the smile from his face. He didn't usually manipulate Dean, but it was for a good cause, and this Dean didn't know how well Castiel knew him. Not really. They'd been together as a couple about three years when Cas finally explained to him exactly what he could see of Dean when he'd pulled him from Hell. It was everything. Everything.

"Okay," Cas said, adding a nod to placate Dean.

Dean nodded back at him, a definitive motion that was an end to that particular part of the conversation. "So why are you sulking in here?"

"I don't have anywhere to go," Cas said, and he really hadn't meant to sound so pathetic. "I can't fly, and this is my room."

Dean let out a chuckle, that look on his face that said he thought Cas was being a dork without realizing it. "Okay, well, if you need anything, I'm right down the hall."

Cas didn't know his stomach could feel as if there were butterflies fluttering around in there when he had his grace. He hadn't experienced it until Dean had started really flirting with him years ago. But what Dean had just said, well, that was an offer, an invitation. Dean didn't throw things out there casually, and as flippant as he'd tried to be, Cas picked up on it.

"Night, Cas," Dean said as he stood up.

"G'night, Dean," Cas said, earning him a bit of a pause from Dean, but then Dean was leaving him alone.

Even with the door closed, he could hear Dean getting ready for bed and finally settling in. He knew what was coming next and palmed his crotch as Dean let out a breathy moan.

If Cas couldn't be in the room while Dean was jerking off, at least he had his grace back and could eavesdrop. The guilt he'd developed as a human didn't flare because he was listening in on his husband. There was no shame in that.

Cas knew Dean better than he knew himself, so he wasn't expecting Dean to come with Cas' name on his lips. Dean tended to be clueless until someone showed obvious interest or Dean was actively pursuing them. And this Dean hadn't even considered the possibility of them together yet. But that was okay. Cas could just listen.

"Mmm, yeah," Dean whispered as he tugged on his cock, spreading his legs and shifting some on the bed.

Cas reached into his own pajama pants and wrapped his hand around his erection. Dean didn't take long to come when he was just getting himself off. There was no need to draw it out. Cas couldn't hear Dean rolling his balls in his left hand, but he knew that's what Dean was doing. He knew exactly what Dean looked like, that he was biting his bottom lip in between breathy moans and whispered words. He knew Dean was clenching his ass every time he ran a thumb over the tip of his dick, spreading the moisture and making it easier to jerk off.

Cas stroked himself in time with Dean, not bothering to play with his own balls. Not that he didn't like it, but there was no reason to. He was focused on Dean.

Dean hissed, making Cas shiver with anticipation. Dean was close, and Cas could force his vessel to come at any time, so he was ready when Dean's breathing stuttered, but Cas still waited.

"Ah, fuck," Dean said as he panted, then lifted his hand to his mouth and sucked his fingers and palm clean.

That's when Cas came. He loved watching Dean lick himself clean. He'd been waiting for it, didn't even need to force his vessel to come as Dean let out a moan around his fingers, as if his mouth was full but he just couldn't keep quiet.

Dean panted, and Cas panted along with him, coming down and catching his breath while Dean wiped his wet hand on his T-shirt and got into a more comfortable position, pulling the covers up.

Cas didn't have all of his powers at his fingertips, but he didn't feel like getting up, so he cleaned his vessel, giving Dean a few minutes to drift off before he got up and padded down the hallway.

Dean was already sleeping, but when Cas opened the door, he suddenly wondered if he was pushing too hard. Sure, Dean had offered, but Dean was easily spooked.

And now that he had his grace back, he could tell his presence in the room was enough to pull Dean from sleep.

"Get your feathery ass over here," Dean said, words not all that clear because his face was smashed into the pillow.

Cas grinned as he climbed into bed, keeping more distance between them than he wanted, but just happy he was invited. He didn't sleep. He didn't need to. Instead he just breathed in the scent of Dean, listened to him softly snoring, enjoyed the way the bed moved as Dean changed position throughout the night, and smiled when Dean's morning erection poked him in the stomach.

*

"Rise and shine," Dean said, smacking Cas on the ass.

Cas flinched, opening his eyes. He'd fallen asleep. He hadn't meant to, and he realized his grace was more damaged than he initially assumed. At least he felt better after resting.

"Want some eggs?" Dean asked as he pushed his pajama pants off, his shirt already off and unabashedly naked as he walked to the dresser and pulled out a fresh set of jeans and a T-shirt.

Cas couldn't tear his eyes away from Dean's ass and legs. He wanted to touch, to hold. "Yes," he answered, forcing the blush away as Dean turned and caught him looking.

"What else do you want?" Dean asked, a ridiculously charming smile on his face.

Cas stared at him, not quite sure what to say, because Dean Fucking Winchester was flirting with him. The guy who was clueless and needed to be smacked in the face by anyone who was interested in him. The guy who had let Cas make the first move years ago. The guy who was standing there naked, T-shirt and jeans in his right hand, giving Cas a full frontal.

"Uh, want?" Cas said, feeling off center and really fucking unsure of himself.

"Yeah," Dean said with a nod. "What else do you want? You know, to eat."

Cas figured 'your cock' wasn't the correct response, but Dean was practically begging for that answer. "Bacon?" he said.

Something in Dean's expression changed a little. It wasn't much, but Cas knew him well enough to recognize the doubt in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, to let him know that he wanted what Dean was offering more than anything, but Dean had already changed from flirtatious to something resembling business-like.

"Sam picked up some fruit yesterday too," Dean said, tossing the T-shirt onto the bed before stepping into his jeans and pulling them on, going commando. "You want some pineapple or strawberries?"

"S-strawberries," Cas said, flustered by the sudden change and the knowledge that he was the one who had brought it about.

"Okay, well, let's get to the kitchen before Sam eats all the fruit," Dean said, then pulled the shirt on over his head and walked out the door, leaving Cas staring after him.

Cas wasn't sure what to make of what had just happened. He wanted Dean so badly, wanted all the things he changed to mean nothing, and he wanted Dean to want him. He wanted it so much that he could have merely imagined Dean was flirting with him when he really wasn't. Dean had always been comfortable around him. It was like Cas had permission to see every part of him, not only because Cas wasn't a human, but because he knew Cas wouldn't judge, wouldn't hold him to the standards a human would.

"You built me this body," Dean had said. "Anything I could hide from you, you've already seen and touched."

Cas had assumed Dean only felt that way after Cas had explained exactly what had happened when he'd fought his way to Dean in Hell, but maybe he'd always felt that way.

He stood up and headed for the kitchen, not bothering to change his clothes or do anything with his hair. Dean always liked it all messy anyway.

*

Another successful hunt, but no new information on Abaddon or what she was planning. Cas knew, of course, but Dean and Sam were mostly lost. Burning a patch of kriglings on a farm was messy, and the smell was enough to banish the thought of food anytime soon, so Dean had driven them to a secluded area after picking up some beer.

"Here," Dean said, handing first Sam a beer, then Cas.

Cas didn't need it, but he wanted it. The three of them lowered themselves onto the soft grass, only a few yards from the tree line, Sam lying flat on his back while Dean and Cas sat cross-legged a few feet away from each other.

None of them had gotten hurt, and even though it had been smelly and loud, what with the screaming, it was refreshing. Dean always looked more alive after a hunt, and Sam would be exhausted, but he would feel like he'd accomplished some good. All in all, they were relaxed and content.

"I'm in the mood for pizza," Dean said after a long silence.

"Sounds good to me," Sam said after taking another sip of beer.

"You feel like helping me make pizza, Cas?" Dean asked, looking to Cas.

Cas couldn't stop the smile that grew on his face. "Yes, I'd like that."

"Cool," Dean said, nodding. "We'll make an all-spinach and tomato pizza for Sam."

"Tease me as much as you want," Sam grumbled, "but I do like meat."

Dean chuckled. "You like meat too, Cas?" he asked, smirking.

And it wasn't the words. It wasn't even the smirk. It was the way Dean asked that had Cas' cock twitching in his uncomfortable slacks. Yes, that was definitely flirting.

He wasn't going to give Dean a chance to misconstrue his response a second time. "I like your meat," he said, feigning innocence when Sam choked on his sip of beer and Dean started laughing so hard he nearly fell over backward.

"You like a lot of meat?" Dean asked, shoulders shaking with amusement.

"Yours is adequate," Cas said, wondering just how far he could take it.

Dean laughed again as Sam finished his beer and stood up, dusting the blades of grass from his jeans.

"Okay," Sam said with a sigh, "I'm ready to be somewhere this conversation isn't happening."

Sam was teasing. He wasn't really upset with the way the conversation had gone, but it was enough to get Dean chuckling.

"Help me up," Dean said, holding a hand out to Sam.

Sam hefted him up, then shoved him playfully. "I want bacon on mine. And lots of cheese."

Dean held out his hand for Cas, helping him up too. "He's so easy to get," he stage-whispered to Cas.

Cas wasn't able to wipe the smile off his face until well after they'd gotten back to the bunker.

*

Dean wasn't a neat chef. He always made a mess, and usually had at least one ingredient on his clothes or skin. The sauce on Dean's neck was really distracting. Just a little spot. As if Dean had put his left hand into the sauce without realizing it and then touched his neck.

Cas wanted to lick it off. That desire didn't fade even as they all sat on bar stools in the kitchen and finished their pizzas.

"Thanks, Dean," Sam said, then yawned. "I'll clean up. You can head to bed."

Dean shook his head. "Nah, I'll clean up."

"You always clean up," Sam said, a token protest. His eyelids were already drooping and his cheeks were tinged pink, which always happened when Sam was overtired.

"Yup," Dean said as he stood up, "and I'm gonna do it again. Cas'll help me clean up. Go to bed before you fall over."

Sam shrugged. "Okay. Thanks. G'night."

"Night, Sammy," Dean said as Sam headed for his room.

Cas reached for another piece of pizza, ducking his head a little when Dean smirked at him.

"You're gonna have to use your angel mojo to keep from exploding," Dean said as he grabbed the dirty dishes from the steel counter and walked to the sink, filling it with water.

"It's worth it," Cas said.

"So what was your favorite topping?" Dean asked.

Cas was thrown for a moment. He'd forgotten again that this wasn't his husband. They were having so much fun it had slipped his mind. His husband knew what his favorite topping was.

"The pineapple pieces," Cas said with a mouthful of pizza.

Dean squeezed some dish washing liquid into the water and left it running as he put the bottle away and picked up a bowl, heading toward Cas. "Here, this dish needs to be washed, and there's only a few left," he said as he held a piece of pineapple up to Cas' lips.

Cas stared at him for a moment. He'd told Dean a long time ago, promised him that he wouldn't invade his mind, but he really wanted to break that promise. Was this a clueless Dean just having fun with his friend?

"Open up," Dean said, waving the pineapple around.

Cas opened his mouth and Dean pushed the pineapple in, fingers brushing against Cas' lips. Castiel, even with his grace back and all the knowledge of millennia, forgot to chew.

"Dude!" Dean said as he thumped on Cas' back while Cas sputtered and coughed.

As soon as Cas remembered he wasn't human, he fixed his vessel's breathing problem, making sure to get rid of the blush on his cheeks too.

"You okay?" Dean asked.

"Yes," Cas said. "It's difficult getting used to my grace. Sometimes I forget how much of it to use when it's damaged and I let it relax and recover."

"What, like you put it on the back burner?" Dean asked, confused.

"Something like that," Cas said, nodding.

"So you're feeling everything your vessel feels for the most part?" Dean asked.

"If I push my grace back," Cas said. "I've only let a small portion come forward, and I'm not using it to do a lot of the things I'd normally use it for."

Dean looked at him with wounded eyes. Eyes that said he wished he could make it all better for Cas. "Sorry, Cas."

"I'll be okay," Cas said, knowing he would. He had no doubt. Everything would be okay. They might not go the way he wanted them to, but as long as they released The Darkness, things would be okay.

"Want any more?" Dean asked, holding up another piece of pineapple. Cas answered by opening his mouth, and Dean chuckled. "Don't choke on this one, okay?"

"Okay," Cas agreed as Dean pushed the fruit in, making the word he'd spoken turn into something that sounded like a drunk attempting conversation.

Cas looked Dean in the eye as the man ran his thumb over Cas' lower lip. But before he could question Dean or figure out what the Hell was going on, Dean was holding up the last piece of pineapple. Cas took it, then flinched as Dean playfully smacked his arm.

"Come help me with the dishes," Dean said. "I'll wash. You dry."

Cas felt a little shaky as he walked to the sink, unsure of himself. He was thrilled to be with this man who felt more like his husband than he did old Dean, but he was also worried it could be taken away from him if he slipped up and got too comfortable.

He wanted to talk to Sam. Sam had been so wiped out, but he was also the one with the best advice, and also the one who knew what had really happened to Cas.

"Hey, so, instead of waiting until I'm almost asleep," Dean said, nudging Cas with his elbow, "how about you just crash with me?"

Old Cas wouldn't have understood the reference, but he didn't feel like faking it anymore. Not after he'd seen that glimpse of his husband, and not when he felt so close to Dean. His Dean.

"Okay," he said, hands trembling just a bit.

Dean smiled, and Cas couldn't wipe the dreamy grin off his face as they finished up the dishes and headed for Dean's room.

"Here," Dean said, tossing a pair of his own sleep pants at Cas.

Cas caught them, letting out a huff when he saw they were blue with tiny white clouds all over them.

"Sam got 'em for me," Dean said, shrugging. "I've never worn them, but think of it as something you can dream about, and something you can do when you're up to it again."

Cas didn't know what to say. He wondered if a human might be hurt by the words. He couldn't fly in the clouds, at least not until his wings were healed. But Dean didn't say it to hurt. He said 'when' not 'if' he was up to it again.

Dean had said it with that casual tone of voice. The same tone of voice he'd used when Cas had admitted to backing the Impala into the side of the garage, crushing the tail light. Something serious had happened, something that Dean wasn't all that happy with, but it wasn't so serious that Dean viewed it as a deal breaker.

"You're gonna fix it," Dean had said, nudging him with his elbow.

Cas had been so worried Dean would be mad, maybe even forbid him from ever touching the car again, but Dean had kept it light and they'd spent the weekend fixing it together.

Dean had faith in Cas. He was holding a stupid pair of sleep pants with dorky little clouds all over them, but it meant so much more. It meant his Dean was closer than he could've hoped.

"You're not shy, are you?" Dean asked, already naked and pulling his own sleep pants on.

"Uhm, no," Cas said, setting the soft pants down on the bed before stripping out of his clothes. He folded everything and set them neatly on the dresser, remembering how many times Dean had complained about Cas leaving his clothes everywhere.

Dean was already in bed by the time Cas got into the sleep pants, and as Cas climbed in, Dean turned the light off. Cas pulled his grace back as far as possible, basking in the warmth and smells of being so close to Dean.

"You'll be okay, Cas," Dean said, his back to Cas. It wasn't just a reassurance. It was Dean promising in his own way.

Dean always pulled through in the end. Both he and Sam did. It might not have been what everyone could've hoped for, but things worked out.

"I know," Cas said.

*

Sam smiled, a fond expression on his face as he watched Cas using the tip of his tongue to catch the stray dribbles of chocolate ice cream before they managed to slip off his cone.

Dean was up at the counter ordering another one because Cas couldn't decide if he wanted chocolate-chocolate chip or cheesecake with chocolate chips. Dean suggested both, and Cas wasn't going to argue.

Sam was sitting across from him at a table near the corner of the ice cream shop, and even though there were a few families in the shop, it was fairly quiet and subdued. Sam munched on a piece of his waffle cone, and Cas just knew he was working up a question. He could tell by the look on his face.

"So why do you still need to eat?" Sam asked before licking at his sweet cream ice cream again.

Cas glanced over to where Dean was holding his hands up, showing the girl behind the counter that he wanted a really, really big scoop of ice cream, not just the small one.

"I like feeling things," Cas said. "The time I spent as a human with Dean were the best years of my life. Ice cream is a small pleasure that just doesn't mean anything when my grace is caring for the vessel."

"So you've been pushing it back?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Cas said.

"No, the really big one," Dean said from the counter, pointing at the waffle cones to the girl's left.

Cas couldn't help but smile. "I like eating. I like focusing on the little things. When my grace is simply caring for the vessel, everything the body experiences is dulled and unnecessary. With my grace I hear everything for hundreds of miles, see everything, smell everything. The world is narrowed down when I push my grace back. It's not always a good thing, because I can get hurt, I can taste things I don't like or smell something disgusting, but overall I want those things."

"What's it like pushing the grace back?" Sam asked.

"I explained it to Dean once as being close to a fire," Cas said. "You put your hand in it, it burns, but pull back and the effects of the flame simply warm you. Pull back more and you won't feel it at all. My grace is the opposite of a flame in the simplest terms."

"Cheesecake chocolate chip," Dean said, holding the cone out to Cas, his own dish of apple pie in sweet cream waiting for him on the table.

"Thank you," Cas said, taking his cone as Dean sat down and started in on his own treat.

"So the thing with five tails," Dean said with a mouthful of ice cream. "Fire kills it?"

Cas shook his head even though he knew Dean was teasing. "No. Water kills it." He hadn't realized it when he first knew Dean, but the man loved to feign ignorance, thinking it funny when Sam got pissed over it. Over the years, Cas had grown to enjoy it as yet another aspect of the man he loved.

"Gotcha," Dean said, grinning when Sam just sighed. "Can I use a hatchet on it?"

"Dean," Sam said, shoulders dropping and his lips thinning in annoyance, "didn't you listen to anything he said in the car?"

"Of course I did," Dean said, smirking. "He said you wish you could wear suspenders without looking completely ridiculous."

Sam glared at him. "It's for the hunt," he said, cheeks turning just a little pink as he fingered the left strap of his suspenders.

"Well you look adorable," Dean said as he reached out and pulled back on the strap Sam wasn't fiddling with. He let go, chuckling when Sam let out an indignant yelp of pain. "I'm serious. You look adorable and that hot librarian is gonna be totally distracted by you while me and Cas burn the grizzly fucker."

"Graat'Zel Fahker," Cas said for what seemed like the hundredth time. He wasn't really annoyed. In fact he thought Dean's version sounded better. It certainly suited the disgusting little beast. Another hunter had taken care of the thing last time, and nothing had gone wrong, so even though it wasn't a hunt they'd gone on in Cas' head, he wasn't worried about it. "And water kills it."

Dean patted Cas' knee. "Water. Gotcha."

Sam hid his smile with his own ice cream cone.

*

The Belmont Public Library in Massachusetts was quiet. It was nearly closing time and a holiday weekend. There weren't many people, which made it easier to keep the public safe and also kill the creature without anyone seeing them do it.

Cas and Dean waited until Sam had the librarian distracted with his charming little-boy-lost smile and enthusiastic interest in the history of the town.

"Okay, that's fuckin' creepy," Dean said as they walked into the Claflin Room. "Who the fuck puts a giant dining room set in the middle of a library? And a fuckin' mannequin?" he asked, pointing at said creepy mannequin. It was a little odd. Okay, it was a lot odd, but Cas wasn't consulted on the decorations.

Cas ignored Dean's griping, and instead focused on the singed corner of the rug just in front of a display cabinet meant to inform visitors about the town's farms and history.

"Display case," Cas whispered.

Dean was already in hunter mode, eyes taking in every detail of the room, but Cas' words had shut Dean's mouth. They were both carrying tanks of water with a hose in one hand and the wand attached to the hose in the other. Dean had a few knives on him and a gun tucked in the back of his jeans, but all Cas had concealed was a knife in a holster around his ankle.

"One," Dean mouthed as he walked up to the display cabinet. He nodded his head two more times, then opened the cabinet.

Everything happened so fast. Cas' eyes hadn't even adjusted to the darkness of the cabinet's interior when there was a flash of fire, like someone was standing inside the cabinet with a fucking flamethrower. He heard Dean scream, and he watched in horror as Dean fell to the floor, shirt and jacket on fire, already spreading to his jeans.

Dean rolled away, but the creature was scared and fighting, fire still practically spraying out in an arc at Dean. Cas aimed his wand and sprayed into the cabinet, a screech loud enough to make his ears hurt coming from the creature just before the thing melted, reminding Cas of the wicked witch from Wizard of Oz.

Cas dropped the tank and turned to Dean, yanking his jacket off and covering him to smother the flames, but it wasn't until he pulled the jacket away, his husband's face badly burned and his shirt melted to his skin that Cas remembered his own grace.

He'd completely forgotten. He'd shoved it back, letting himself forget about it so he could enjoy pretending to be a human, and he hadn't been there for Dean. He could have stopped the flame from ever touching Dean if he hadn't been running around as if he were one of the guys.

"Cas," Dean whimpered, looking up at Cas with desperation in his eyes. His body was trembling, going into shock, his mouth hanging open on what could've been a silent scream of horrific pain. The smell of burned flesh filled the room as Dean gasped and choked on his own charred throat and mouth.

Cas reached out, putting his hands on Dean, one on his chest and one on the top of his head, and within the blink of an eye Dean was healed.

Dean gasped again, this time for a completely different reason, reaching up to touch his own face, his own chest, the pain and desperation in his eyes replaced by relief and gratitude. Gratitude Cas didn't deserve.

"Cas!" Dean said, pushing himself up and wrapping his arms around Cas. He was shaking, thankful to be alive, in no pain.

Cas held him tightly, closing his eyes as he used his grace to check Dean over for any damage, pushing through Dean's entire body just to make sure. Dean was fine other than an elevated heart rate, but the smell of burned flesh was still heavy in the room. It was making Cas sick, and he couldn't imagine what it was doing to Dean. That was the smell of his own cooked flesh.

"C'mon," Dean said, standing up without really letting go of Cas, left arm wrapped around Cas' middle. "Let's get outta here before somebody comes to see what all the noise was about."

Cas refused to let go of Dean, his right arm up around Dean's shoulders, and Dean didn't seem all that ready to break contact either. By the time they made it to the car, they both collapsed into the back seat. They hadn't bothered to bring the water tanks. Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket, but instead of using it, he just sat there staring at it.



"Uhm, guess you didn't heal my phone," he said, eyes glued to the mass of plastic, metal, and glass that had once been a working phone.

Cas took the phone from Dean and tossed it onto the front seat before wrapping his arms around Dean once more, pushing his face into the crease between Dean's neck and shoulder. Dean didn't push him away. Instead he sighed, resting his chin on Cas' head. Cas finally reached into his own pocket and sent a quick message to Sam on his cell phone. The one Dean had given him when he was human.

"I'm sorry," Cas said.

"It's not your fault, Cas," Dean said. "You saved me."

"You wouldn't have needed saving if I'd...," Cas said, but he couldn't even finish the sentence. He didn't want to admit he'd been so focused on wallowing in the human experience that Dean had almost died.

"It's okay," Dean said, rubbing a hand over Cas' back. "I get it."

Cas let out a huff. It wasn't funny.

"I do get it," Dean insisted. "People underestimate me. It's part of the reason why I'm so good at what I do. I know what you were doing and I get it. So don't go blaming yourself for wanting to feel good. I'd hate for you to miss out on more cheesecake ice cream."

Cas pulled back, looking Dean in the eye, confused as to why Dean wasn't upset, why he was brushing it off like it was nothing. "You almost died. The pain you experienced...," he said, shaking his head, stomach clenching.

"It was temporary," Dean said, shrugging. "It hurt like a motherfucker, but if you had really been human, I'd be dead. You saved me. And if you want to shove your grace into a box so you can experience life and only take it out when you need it, I say do it. Life isn't worth living if you can't enjoy at least one thing."

Cas gaped at him, mouth working soundlessly. How could Dean have said that? How could the pain he'd just felt have been worth Cas flitting around like an idiot who just wanted to be a real boy?

But Dean wasn't upset. He wasn't mad. His face was relaxed other than the smile, jaw not even remotely clenched, and there was something in his eyes, something Cas couldn't quite place, but it sure as Hell wasn't bad. Dean really meant it.

Sure, the version of Dean who had been his husband would've said the same thing, but this was ahead of schedule, as far as Cas was concerned. This Dean wasn't ready to sacrifice his own body like that for Cas to shove something useful aside. Or maybe he was. Maybe he never did think Cas was silly for wanting to be human. Maybe Cas had it wrong and should've believed his husband when he told him Cas deserved to feel things, deserved to be what he wanted to be.

Sam opened the back door of the car, crouching down and frowning at the two of them. "You guys okay?"

Dean pulled his keys out of his pocket. The fob had melted, but the keys were fine. He handed them to Sam, grinning when Sam's eyes widened, but Sam took the keys, wrapping his fingers around them.

"Get us outta here before your girlfriend wanders into the room we just destroyed," Dean said. "We'll tell you what happened on the way home."

"Okay," Sam said.

Cas didn't want to let go of Dean. And later that night when they pulled into a motel for the night, none of them said a word about the fact that Cas climbed into bed with Dean, wrapping his arms around him and falling asleep with his head on Dean's chest.

*

It took them just over twenty-four hours to get back to the bunker. They were all tired after taking turns driving, but all of them had been eager to get back to their own beds. Well, Cas was eager to get back to Dean's bed.

Cas was too exhausted from healing Dean to even think about letting his grace out of that box Dean had mentioned. He needed time to recharge back to even the small amount of power he had. He was able to push it back so much that basically he was human, and he told himself it was to heal, not because he wanted to feel Dean warm and alive in his arms.

The fast food they had eaten on the way home had left a sour taste in Cas' mouth. He'd become so accustomed to Dean's cooking that the heavy grease upset his stomach. He didn't have the energy to use his grace to fix the stomach ache.

Cas had to be careful. When the shit hit the fan with the Mark of Cain, Cas needed to be stronger. Crowley was going to need all the help he could get when Cas would go after him. Cas needed the strength to help dampen the spell Rowena had put on him, giving Crowley enough time to counteract it.

If they ended up losing Crowley because Dean had needed healing after being burned, it was worth it. Crowley had been a help, a big one, but he'd choose Dean over Crowley any day. And maybe The Darkness would sweep over the entire Earth, taking everything supernatural with it before Cas even did anything to Crowley. Either way, Dean was worth it.

Cas didn't think he'd ever forget the expression on Dean's face, the look in his eyes when he was lying on the floor. The rug he was on had been burned right along with him. The hunter who took care of the creature the last time must've taken it by surprise, because nothing had happened to him. He hadn't even lost any hair to the creature.

Dean was still in the shower when Cas climbed into bed. He would have liked taking a shower with Dean, but he knew Dean wasn't ready for that yet. He'd have his Dean soon. He had to believe that.

Cas sniffed the pillow, smiling when he caught Dean's scent. He pushed his face into it, imagining Dean coming into the room after his shower, tired but refreshed like he usually was after washing off all the stink of a hunt and the motel rooms.

Dean would have climbed into bed, nuzzling at Cas until he managed to make Cas laugh. They'd kiss, touch, wrap themselves around each other. And Dean would make little comments about how sexy Cas was, how beautiful his eyes were, how perfect his mouth was, how thick and long his cock was before sucking it down, making Cas writhe on the bed.

Cas would beg, just like Dean would if it was his mouth on Dean's cock. He'd beg for more, rest one hand on Cas' head just so he could mess his hair up even more. He'd poke Cas in the side with his toes, squeeze Cas' head between his thighs, laugh when Cas would frown up at him, then tell him how adorable he looked when he was pouting.

He couldn't decide which scenario he liked better, and when Dean walked into the room, tossing his dirty clothes into the basket, Cas rolled onto his stomach, hiding his erection. He hadn't meant to get hard. He was just lost in that world he wanted to get back to. He wanted it so badly he could taste it. He could almost feel Dean's arms around him, his mouth mapping out every inch of his body.

"So fuckin' tired," Dean grumbled as he flopped onto the bed and got under the covers.

Cas was holding his breath, trying to get his erection to back off, because he never slept on his stomach, and Dean might notice, and then he'd ask why, and Cas would blush. And he loved it. He loved being in a body that was helpless to desires. As much as he was scared Dean would find out about the erection, it was still worth it to feel, to smell, to taste. To be human.

He was tired of pretending. Tired of acting like old Cas for Dean's sake. He missed being with his husband, missed that intimacy that he and Dean had. He missed fucking. He missed the times they didn't fuck. He missed his life.

Dean turned the light off and soon they were sharing the pillow, Cas' erection only halfway there. He wanted to hold Dean, reassure himself that Dean was alive yet again after seeing him burned and dying, but his stupid erection wasn't going away.

Fuck it.

Cas squirmed and rolled and grunted as he changed position. Dean chuckled when Cas grabbed his arm and positioned it where he wanted it, then put his head down on Dean's chest. At the last moment, he gave up all attempts of hiding it and just threw his left leg over Dean's thighs. Dean had to have felt it, but he didn't say anything, didn't pull away, and they just stayed like that.

It felt so good. He could imagine they weren't in the bunker. That they were back at their own home, in their own bed with their own sheets and blankets. The blanket that they'd found at a thrift store, the one Cas had touched, said it was soft, that he'd wanted it because it would keep them warm, and Dean hadn't even questioned the fact that it was covered in orange and brown flowers. The thing was obnoxious, but he'd still taken it up front and paid for it.

Suddenly Cas couldn't breathe. He choked, pushing his face into Dean's chest. He couldn't stop thinking about the good times, the bad times, and the way Dean had looked up at him, the smell of burned flesh in the air, gasping as he tried to make his body breathe, tried to make his lungs work as the life drained from him right there in front of Cas' eyes.

"Hey, hey," Dean said, running his right hand over Cas' arm, his left over Cas' back.

But Cas couldn't stop himself. He was hyperventilating, broken and lost in a world where he was just fucking things up, stuck merely dreaming of a world he might never have, crying on the chest of a man that he was pushing too fast. He was selfish. He wanted it all, and it was probably going to cost him that world he wanted so badly.

Dean had almost died. It would have been his fault. He had almost killed Dean. So what if it was the creature that had burned him? Cas could have stopped it from happening in the first place if he hadn't been so fucking selfish.

"I'm fucking everything up," Cas said into the material of Dean's shirt as he forced himself to breathe somewhat evenly.

"Everything's gonna be okay," Dean said. "We all fuck up. It's the price you pay for being human. We all pay it, but it's worth it."

Cas lifted his head, his face screwed up in confusion. "How can you say that? How can you say it's worth it when-mmmph."

And just like that Dean was kissing him. Cas melted into it, moaning first, then letting out a tiny whimper before realizing exactly what he was doing. He pulled back, eyes wide.

But Dean was smiling. Fucking smiling at him. Cas' head was spinning. He considered it might have been a psychotic break, but even if it was, it was worth it to have Dean smiling at him, in his arms, and fuck, Cas could still feel the sensation of Dean's lips on his own.

"It's too soon," Cas whispered.

"Too soon for what?" Dean asked.

"You're going to freak out," Cas said, realizing how ridiculous it was even as he said the words.

"Do I look like I'm freaking out?" Dean asked, smirking.

And no. Dean didn't look like he was freaking out. He looked just as relaxed and happy as he'd been the first time they'd had their first kiss. And if that wasn't a mindfuck, Cas didn't know what was.

"No," Cas said, almost petulantly.

"I was trying to let you do this at your own pace," Dean said, letting out a chuckle, "but I couldn't take it anymore. You looked so upset."

"Huh?" Cas said, tilting his head to the side a bit.

"You think I didn't notice?" Dean asked, raising both eyebrows in surprise. "You thought I didn't see any difference between the you that walked into that witch's house and the guy who walked out?"

Cas' jaw dropped, and he just stared at Dean, unsure of what to do, what to say. If this was a spell, some sort of wonderful dream he'd stepped into, he really hoped someone didn't wake him. Been there, done that, didn't like the jarring time shift.

Dean snorted. "Dude, I know you better than that."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Cas finally asked.

"You seemed freaked out by the whole thing," Dean said. "I was giving you time to work your way through whatever it was you were going through."

"But...," Cas started, but he really didn't have anything else to say.

"I went back and got the book," Dean said with a sheepish look on his face. "We were so worried about you that we forgot to burn her shit, so I went back, the book was sitting there where we'd left it, so I snagged it and brought it back here."

"You read it?" Cas asked, and he hadn't meant to sound so shocked. It was pretty insulting. But he was fucking surprised.

"I'm not just a pretty face, you know," Dean said, then winked.

Cas let out a laugh that sounded more like a honk. "You read it," he said, more to himself than Dean.

"I don't know the details," Dean said, "but whatever happened in the time you were stuck in your own head really changed you. From what I read in that book, after a fuck-load of research and translating, I got the impression it was a potential future."

Cas' stomach clenched. "Potential?" he asked. "That's all it was?"

"Well, potential because if you did things differently, it might change small details," Dean said, shrugging.

Dean knew more of the spell than he and Sam did. He'd translated more than Sam had been able to in the few pages he'd looked at quickly.

"You were so different around me after we got back from the house," Dean said. "I figured our relationship changed somehow in that headtrip she put you on. You looked at me differently."

"I thought I was...," Cas said, then chuckled at himself. "I suck at hiding things from you."

Dean grinned. "Yeah, you do."

"I'm sorry," Cas said.

"I understand why you did it," Dean said. "I would've freaked out too. I don't even know how long you were stuck in there, but it had to have been a shock. Like getting thrown back in time."

"Nine years," Cas whispered.

"Fuck," Dean said, letting out a long breath as if a weight had been placed on his chest. "Well, you can stop pretending around me, okay?"

"Okay," Cas said, unsure if that meant he could let his guard down completely or just forgo hiding the fact that he'd lived years inside his head.

"I'm assuming you don't want to tell me about some of the things that happened because you're scared of changing the future," Dean said. "But if there are things you can tell me, I'd like to hear them."

Cas sighed. "Even small things I've done changed the outcome. We're still heading in the same direction, it seems, but I don't know if I've ruined that future. If it even was a future."

"I've still got the book if you wanna read it," Dean said. "I think it'll put your mind at ease."

"Why?" Cas asked, a flutter of hope in his stomach.

"Because the witch combined three spells and a curse," Dean said. "She had notes in the margins and in her notebook. It was meant for you. She tailored the whole thing just for you."

"I don't understand," Cas said, frowning.

"I think she was tired," Dean said, shaking his head. "She'd been practicing magic for years, had been hurt a number of times by different creatures, a few humans, and her life wasn't really all that great. If I would've known, I wouldn't have killed her because she meant no harm. She'd been tracking us. Figured out what you were and that we're all hunters. That world you've got stuck in your head? It's a future she figured out could happen if she showed it to you and only you. I don't know exactly what she saw, but she'd had visions for years and didn't really describe much of it. She knew it would mean a better life for her daughter and granddaughter, so she lured us there and let you live out the next few years in the hopes you'd get everybody there."

Cas rested his chin on Dean's chest. "I wasn't sure what happened. Sam suggested it was the real future because of her psychic abilities, but he didn't know the spells and he didn't mention the notebook."

"You told Sam but not me!" Dean said, feigning shock as he poked Cas in the side.

Cas let out a chuckle, but sobered quickly. "You're okay with this?" he asked, and his Dean would've known he was asking about everything that it could possibly encompass. The world, the universe, and everything in it. He knew this Dean might not get that.

"I am," Dean said confidently. "I'll admit I was a little thrown when I first put everything together, and even then, I wasn't sure I had it right, that maybe I was picking up on signs that weren't even really there, but..."

"They were there," Cas hurried to cut him off. "I just didn't want to rush things."

Dean smiled. "You didn't. You gave me time to work things out for myself."

"And it's killing you that I'm not telling you everything, isn't it," he said instead of asked, a sly grin on his face.

Dean groaned. "It is. I know you're scared you'll fuck things up if you tell, but the suspense is killin' me."

Cas smiled. This Dean was more and more like his Dean than he ever had been before, and it was calming his nerves. That future he'd seen might be within reach after all.

"We were happy?" Dean asked, a bit of fear in his eyes.

Cas understood. The Winchesters and anyone associated with them had been knocked on their asses so many times that hope was something looked at cautiously, like it might bite if anyone became too complacent.

"Life wasn't a fantasy," Cas said. "Things still went wrong, people still got sick and died, but overall I'd say yes, we were happy."

"Do I still look hot a decade from now?" Dean asked, grinning.

Cas chuckled. "Even more so," he said, and he really meant it.

"You've already had a first time with me," Dean said, tone of voice almost wistful.

"A lot of first times," Cas said, suddenly worrying that Dean would feel as if he'd been cheated out of experiencing Cas' first times.

"Anything we hadn't done yet?" Dean asked, upper lip twitching just a little.

Cas looked Dean in the eye, saw that there was more of a twinkle of mischief than hurt or concern, so Cas grinned. "You wanted to go to a bed and breakfast, but we'd never gotten around to it."

"Shit, I wanted to stay in one of those places?" he asked, wincing. "Ugh, those places are so over the top and cheesy. No way I would've wanted to go there!"

Cas could tell he was lying. Dean loved over the top and cheesy. Cas shrugged. "I guess I'll have to wait nine years to go to one then."

"Eh, maybe you'll wear me down faster than that this time," Dean said, reaching up and running a finger under Cas' chin. He looked Cas in the eye. "I know this has to be hard for you. If there's anything I can do, just say so."

Cas wanted to kiss. He wanted to hold. He wanted to fuck. He wanted a ring around Dean's finger. He wanted his husband. "Can I just sleep like this?" he asked, fingertips lightly touching Dean's chest as he brushed his chin against the material of Dean's shirt. "Will you let me?"

Dean smiled. "I can do that."

Cas returned the smile, chancing a quick kiss to Dean's chest before he snuggled in. As they both drifted off, Cas hoped being with Dean, being this close would keep the nightmares away. He didn't want to relive those few minutes in the library where Dean almost died. He wanted to put that as far away from them as possible

He didn't have to worry. He slept like a log.

_____

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