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The drive back to the bunker was a tense one, to say the least.
Dean was stiffly driving and Cas was for once sitting in the passenger seat, which he rarely does when Sam is in the car. The only reason he was granted the passenger seat was because Sam was sleeping off a headache as a result of a concussion. Cas had enough grace to just heal him from the concussion part, but not the after-effects of the initial injury or his sprained ankle.
About halfway through the four-hour drive, Cas had told Dean that he had recharged enough to heal the large, deep gash on his side. Now, in the past Dean had been hesitant to be healed, but recently this hasn’t been much of a problem. Especially since they had decided to acknowledge that they are more than best friends.
But for some reason this time Dean had stiffly told Cas that he wanted to wait until they got home.
Cas wanted to argue, saying that there was no good reason to wait. But quite frankly he was tired and frustrated. And he can see by the way Dean is acting that he is on edge and the last thing Cas wants to do right now is accidentally start a fight with him.
So he silently nods his head and leans it against the car window all the while watching Dean with a focused gaze filled with worry. Dean seemed to be too spaced out to notice Cas’ eyes on him, simply holding a dead stare onto the road.
They drove the remainder of the drive home in complete silence.
When they arrived at the bunker Sam was asleep, and after they parked Dean was immediately out of his seat and opening the backseat door at his head.
He gently shook his brother’s shoulder, “Ok Kiddo, time to get to bed.”
Sam grumbled and stood up, and although he could probably walk on his sprained ankle, Dean still swung Sam’s arm over his shoulder to help him walk inside.
As they walked Cas quietly offered to fix Sam’s ankle in the morning after he healed Dean and slept. Even though Cas could probably heal Sam’s ankle now, he doubts it would be a good fix with this low of grace. It’s more practical for him to heal Dean’s superficial wounds tonight and sleep in order to charge up on enough grace to fully heal Sam.
As the minutes went by Cas was only getting more and more concerned about Dean. He excused Dean’s quietness in the Impala to Dean just being tired or the drop of adrenaline after clearing out the Vampire nest. But as the silence followed them into the house, Cas was beginning to think that it was neither of those things.
Dean wordlessly brought Sam to his bedroom while Cas waited in the Kitchen, knowing Dean would return there before they went to sleep.
When Dean finally walked back through the doorway into the Kitchen, Cas finally got a good look at him for the first time since they got home. And immediately his mild concern transformed into full-blown worry. He had a blank and glassy look in his eyes and his hands lay limp at his side. His face was tilted towards the floor, he had stopped walking when he got into the kitchen. Cas feels his period of observation end as Dean raises his down-turned gaze to meet Cas’, and the look in his eyes makes him ache.
“Oh, Dean” Cas’ eyebrows raise in concern, “What’s wrong?”
Dean doesn’t respond, only flinching slightly at the question and returning his hardened gaze toward the floor.
Cas’ eyes widen slightly in confusion, he is wracking his brain for what could have happened today for Dean to be this shaken. When they left the bunker earlier in the day everyone seemed to be in regular spirits. Sam had gotten a call from a hunter a state over tipping them off about a small Vamp nest. So they all decided to do a day trip there to take care of it and then drive back after. Cas had sat in the back on the way there, Dean blasting his music and Sam complained to him about his “shit singing”.
But besides the brotherly bickering, there were no real arguments between the brothers. So Cas can’t imagine that something like that was bothering Dean.
As far as the actual hunt went, it was nothing special in Cas’ opinion. Sure they got a little thrown around, but when do they not? The other hunter had already told them where the nest was, so it was just a matter of going in and taking care of it. They were able to easily take care of the five vamps they were told were there. The trouble started when two more they were completely unaware of grabbed Dean from behind at the same time Sam was thrown across the room by the other. And although Sam did pass out, Cas and Dean were able to take care of the two vamps and he was able to heal Sam from his most concerning injury.
To any normal person, these events may have caused a lifetime of trauma, but from Cas’ perspective, this hunt was probably one of the least difficult and least harmful ones they had done in the past couple of months.
He just couldn’t figure out what could be bothering Dean this much.
Dean looked as if he was struggling to produce words, but he still muttered, “Nothing…I’m going to bed.”
Now, if this conversation had taken place a year ago, Dean would have said this and then immediately turned to walk away. But today after saying this he stands in the doorway and his eyes flicker towards Cas almost nervously.
Cas knows what Dean is waiting for, and he feels a small spread of fondness at the fact that he is too nervous to ask himself.
“Would you like me to join you?”, Cas already knew the answer, but he still waited for an answer.
Dean nodded slightly and then retreated down the hallway.
Cas sighed and slowly followed Dean to his bedroom. As he walked he thought he was beginning to accept what he expected earlier was happening with Dean.
The first time Cas had seen Dean act this way was maybe nine months ago. They had spent the evening together and Dean’s room and fell asleep in each other's arms. This is one of the first times this occurrence had happened. But it just happened that this night was also one where Dean would have one of the worst nightmares Cas had ever seen come from the eldest Winchester.
He had awoken Cas with harsh thrashing and gut-wrenching screams. Cas had been terrified, he had never seen Dean react this horribly to a nightmare. He was harshly scratching at his skin as if he was trying to rip himself open and for all Cas tried, he just couldn’t wake him up. It took Cas using his grace to wake Dean up to finally pull him out of his terror-filled sleep. Usually under no circumstance would Cas use his grace on Dean without his permission, but he just didn’t know what else to do.
As soon as Dean had woken up he fell into a fit of harsh tremors. Cas had held him close and whispered reassurances to him as Dean gripped his biceps so hard he swore he could feel nails pierce his skin. In Cas’ mind, this was a justified reaction to a nightmare of that velocity, to be this upset after it seemed to be expected. What was not expected, however, was that Dean refused to talk for the rest of the day.
This was one of the first times Cas had figured out that under extreme stress, Dean’s mind would fall into a state of self-preservation, one that lacked the ability to speak. Dean would still speak a few words, just a simple ‘yes’ and ‘no’ here and there. And if it was something really important, Dean could force himself to speak in sentences, but it was apparently very hard.
When Cas inquired about Dean going into a non-verbal state, Dean had told him, ‘Sometimes it just gets real hard for me to talk, like my voice is broken or something- I don’t know, Cas’.
Cas had expected this answer and didn’t push as it seemed it was a sensitive topic. Instead, he put his efforts into trying to be extra gentle with Dean in these times of silence and now was no different.
Cas shut the door behind them as Dean began to shed his flannel and shirt to Change for bed. He knew tonight was one of those nights where they would worry about showering and brushing their teeth in the morning, as they were too tired to do anything but go to sleep. Cas watches Dean for a second before going over to the pile of his neatly folded clothes by the wall opposite Dean’s dresser. They were both dancing around the subject of having him use one of Dean's drawers.
He pulled on a pair of sweats and decided to skip on wearing a shirt, mostly because he knew the skin-to-skin contact sometimes seemed to soothe Dean.
When he turned around he caught Dean just as he was standing in a pair of fresh boxers while pulling a T-shirt over his head. But before he had pulled it all the way down, Cas caught a glimpse of the harsh scratches left by the vamps during the hunt. In the distraction of Dean’s silence, Cas had forgotten he needed to heal him.
He started to step towards Dean, Hand outstretched, “Here, let me heal you before we sleep”.
He didn’t expect Dean’s eyes to dart up before his brows turned sharply in and saying a harsh, “No”, while taking a step back.
Cas stopped walking and put his hand down, his brows furrowed, “What? Dean, why?”.
Dean simply grumbled before turning his back to Cas and walking over to the bed and starting to pull back the covers.
If Cas wasn’t concerned before, he definitely was now. As Dean was pulling back the covers his entire body was stiff with tension, but there was a slight shakiness in his hands, unnoticeable if you weren’t looking for it. It put Cas on the edge. He could recognize Dean’s spells of silence for what they were; a coping mechanism. Dean would stop talking because he was under stress and his mind and body needed a way of dealing with it. Dean will stop talking for a day or so and then when he feels comfortable enough he’ll start verbalizing again. Cas was pretty neutral to this coping mechanism, sure it made him nervous sometimes because Dean was less inclined to voice his needs. But if anything Cas was grateful Dean had a means of coping that wasn’t in direct correlation to the deterioration of his liver.
This moment, however, was different. It made his skin crawl in anxiety that Dean was so upset about something (unknown to Cas) that even his own silence couldn’t soothe him. He knows that it must have something to do with Dean’s wound, that is the only thing that is currently different.
“Dean”, He says, praying the anxiety in his voice doesn’t read as frustration, “Why won’t you let me heal you?”
Dean doesn’t answer, but Cas can see the way his jaw clenches and he turns his face from him.
Cas moves towards the bed from the opposite side, hoping to look Dean in the face. He knows Dean heard him the first time, but he can’t help but question another concerned, “Dean?”
He could see the way Dean began to tremble, the way his troubles started to worm their way out of his skin, bubbling out the surface. He was standing still now, looking down at the bed, “Let it go, Cas.”
Cas is starting to feel frustrated, he was getting worried that something was seriously wrong with Dean.
“No Dean, I’m worried. I don’t understand why you won’t let me heal you, I need you to tell me.” He pleads with Dean, he’ll be willing to let Dean go to sleep with the wound if he must. Cas would never forcibly heal him without his consent unless it was life or death. But he needed an expiation.
And although Cas’ tone was gentle, Dean still managed to find leverage to hurl his anger at, even though Cas knew that the anger was simply a product of emotions Dean couldn’t sort through. “You know what Cas? I don’t have to tell you shit! My wound, my business. So why can’t we just go the fuck to sleep!” Dean spoke harshly to Cas.
Cas’ patience was dwindling, his own anxieties alongside the tone of Dean’s voice bringing tension into his response, “ I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t speak to me that way, you know I am only trying to help.” His voice was firmer than when he previously spoke.
Dean turned fully towards Cas now, walking to the other side of the bed and taking a few steps toward him, “Well I didn’t ask you for your help! You’re not entitled to healing me whenever the fuck you want! So just let it the fuck go!” His face is red as he spits these words in Cas’ face.
The angel knows that Dean doesn’t truly think that Cas feels entitled to his body. Cas feels as though he has had millions of conversations with Dean around the subject of consent. Hoping to instill a more firm understanding of bodily autonomy in Dean. With that being said, it still hurts to hear the one you love accuse you of thinking such things.
Cas takes his own step forward just as Dean had done before, “You know I don’t think that, why are you acting like this? You’re scaring me, why do you wish the wound to remain untended?”
Dean lets out a groan of frustration, before finally spitting out, “You just don’t understand Cas, this-“ He raised his shirt to expose the gash, “is what I deserve.”
The angel sighs, exasperated, “Why would you say something like that? Why would you deserve to remain like-“
“I have one job on this Earth, Cas. Do you know what it is?” He points to the hallway, “To keep that kid safe, and what did I not do today? Keep him safe! I was fucking stupid and didn’t look behind us and nearly got him killed. It’s unacceptable. If he has to go to sleep hurt, then I will go to sleep hurt too.”
Dean’s eyes look glassy, his face red, and his body trembling.
Cas is shocked, he knows these words coming from Dean are ones that are not his. The last sentence he spoke was straight from the mouth of John Winchester. A man who put the weight of the world on his eldest son. He doesn’t know what triggered Dean to fall into this mindset, what happened for him to be upset enough to fall back to the default settings of his mind, set in place by his father.
Cas sighs and shakes his head, “You shouldn’t talk about yourself in such a way, you are not a machine. You are worth more than-“
“Shut up! I am worth jack-shit. I am here to do one job and I couldn’t fucking do it! You hear me Cas? I couldn’t fucking-“
“Dean, you need to stop!” He hates how harsh his voice sounds.
But Cas can tell by the patterns in Dean’s speech that if he keeps speaking like this he will only work himself up more. Cas knows that when Dean’s mind isn’t clouded with fear and anxiety, that with some pushing he was capable of communicating his feelings. What was happening now wasn’t healthy communication for Dean. Each of the yells of Dean’s shortcomings to Cas were ricocheting right back to Dean.
It never failed to amaze Cas just how many ways Dean could torture himself.
He could tell that Dean had worked himself into a panic. His chest heaving and fists clenched, the way he swayed in place. Cas tried to reach a hand up to his shoulder to stabilize him, concerned he may fall. But Dean jumped at Cas’ action, taking a large, swaying step backward.
With each second this continued Cas became increasingly more anxious, “Dean, it’s all ok. I just need you to breathe, and maybe sit down.” His voice was shaky.
The angel's previous harsh tone knocked Dean out of his yelling, but it didn’t seem like he was hearing him at all, responding to Cas in a way irrelevant to his suggestions, “I did it Cas, I messed up.” He wasn’t even making eye contact anymore, just staring, glassy-eyed at the floor.
He could tell Dean was getting dizzy, his panic taking too much from him, and Cas thanked every deity ever believed that Dean decided to sit on the floor in the same spot he had been standing in. Cas followed and sat on his knees next to Dean.
On the floor Dean allowed Cas to be closer to him, and Cas didn’t know if he should be grateful or more concerned about it. But it gave him the closeness to see the few tear tracks that had run their way down his face.
Cas didn’t know what to do, he had never witnessed Dean have a panic attack this large before. His voice was shaky as he pleaded, “Love, I need you to try and breathe for me, ok? I need you to try.”
This Dean did seem to hear, because he let out his first harsh sob and confessed, “I can’t do it Cas, I can’t do it. He hates me, I almost killed him, I almost killed S-Sam.” Loud sobs filled with heartache poured from his mouth.
Cas shook his head, “No, Dean, Sam is fine-“
Dean cut Cas off with more vocalized hurt, “No, no, no, I- he almost- I was stupid, I didn’t look behind me and he almost got Sam!”
Dean actually looked into Cas’ eyes while saying this. Hysterical in the way he spoke. Looking up at Cs from his criss-cross position and confessing these things like they had been pried out of him. Like his guilt was an admission of fault.
Cas never knew the true extent of the depths of feelings before he met Dean. He thinks privately that there could not have been a more underqualified angel to raise this righteous man. That it was simply inhumane to throw him into the depths of Dean Winchester. Who felt things so deeply it could kill? Every action, memory, or thought of Dean’s was attached to a string and tied directly to his heart. So that while Dean walks around his life, his soul would be crushed and squeezed and tested.
Nothing could’ve prepared Cas to share these emotions with Dean.
But now it does allow him to have some insight into what this is.
The damage done to Dean by John Winchester haunts Cas, but it hurts him, even more, to know that it haunts Dean too. It is one of the cruelest things a person can do; Raising a child at the brink of death and expecting them to know how to live. Cas has the privilege of pushing the deep thoughts of what John did to Dean into the back of his mind, he knows Dean doesn’t possess the same privileges, as he was made out of what John had done to him.
Cas knows that their God is evil because he allows people to do this to their children. He allowed John to do this to Dean. To instill in Dean from infancy that there was one thing he was meant for, and that was Sam. To never teach Dean the boundaries of care, and to never warn him that giving it all to someone else will leave you nothing but a skeleton with wailing dreams locked in a cage.
Dean logically knows things now and knows that some of the things his father taught him are wrong. But the sad thing about knowledge is that it only adds to feelings, to instincts.
Cas knew that the only road Dean’s instincts led was straight to John Winchester’s grave.
Dean’s cries eerily rang through the air, crying openly like a child.
Cas closed his eyes, ‘no one would ever love this soul as much as I’ He thought privately. Because he knew the harsh cut lines of sadness in his heart were just expressions of how much he loved the man sitting in front of him.
He looked at Dean and gently said, “May I sit with you?”
Dean looked up at Cas, and it seemed to the angel that the panic may have faded and the sorrow started to sink in. Dean merely nodded a pleading yes.
Relief washed over Cas’ body as he sat next to Dean, especially when he immediately leaned into the warm skin of Cas' neck and gripped his sweatpants. Wetting Cas’ shoulder with his cries.
Cas held Dean, one hand on the back of his head and the other rubbing up and down his arm.
They sat in silence for a few moments, the only sound being Dean’s sniffles.
After a while, Cas began to talk softly, “I have seen so much Dean, I have seen so much life. I thought that Humanity was a book that I had read cover to cover, with no more secrets and no more knowledge to be learned. Immediately after I raised you I had a mind-numbing realization that I had been wrong. As I grabbed the atoms and began to align them to form you I saw into the depths of something I previously wasn’t equipped to see. The moment I raised you, you showed me colors I couldn’t see with anyone else.”
“I had doubted that this potent emotion I was seeing was truly real. Preferring to believe it was simply a glitch and willing myself to see you as I saw the others. But I should have known better that the humanity and love that you hold is stronger than any angel’s will. And with each step you walked and with each word you spoke you confirmed my suspicions that you were the most amazing person I had ever met.”
Cas could feel himself getting lost, getting drunk in the retelling of Dean.
Dean shifted, seemingly uncomfortable, “Cas, cut it out”
“I promise I have a point.” Cas smiled and squeezed Dean, he could feel tears sting his eyes, overwhelmed by how much he felt for Dean.
“So you have to know that when I built you I was very well-versed with your soul. As I held it in my hand I felt the true essence of everything you are. The bravery, the love, the intelligence, the kindness. And while I say this to you I beg of you to believe me Dean, never even once, did I feel your soul convey that your purpose here is to be a tool.”
Dean shivered.
“Your soul did not hold the shape of someone who holds no value. On the contrary, I have never seen a soul be bathed in more worth than you, Dean.”
Dean never responded, but he did calm down.
They sat there for even longer, neither wanting to move.
However they did eventually, Dean still seemed shaken and he still wasn’t talking. But he had made it through his panic attack, and Cas’ words seemed like they affected him.
Cas made him drink a bottle of water and take some pain meds before they went to sleep. Knowing that his post-crying headache would kick in soon.
Cas layed down on his back and Dean slung an arm around his bare waist, pressing his face into Cas’ neck and breathing deeply. Enjoying the warm skin of the angel.
As they lay there in the darkness of the room, Cas asked one final time, “Dean, may I heal you?”
He felt Dean nod into the crook of his neck.