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It was supposed to be an easy hunt—just something to get them off their asses and help them forget about those British Men of Letters douchebags for a little while. It was supposed to be a milk run to get their heads back in the game.
It wasn't supposed to go wrong, wasn't supposed to result in Sam rotting away from the inside-out, wasn't supposed to mean watching Sam cough up blood and writhe like he had when he was detoxing from all that demon blood. But past transgressions are far from Dean's mind. No, he's too busy going through the rollercoaster of feelings stemming from the facts in front of him.
He has the cure to Sam's weird, deadly illness from that goddamn witch, which is a good thing, and they have all the ingredients except one: 'anguished angel tears'.
Normally, anything 'angel' is no problemo to get since Dean's best buddy is an angel that's startlingly willing to help out with their every whim, but the 'anguished' part makes a pit appear in Dean's gut, 'cause he doesn't think tears of joy are gonna work. Not that Cas is even much of a crier anyway.
The only time Dean remembers ever seeing him all watery-eyed was when he was completely hopeless about God abandoning everybody, back during the first apocalypse. They've come a long way since then and have definitely had more bad experiences than good, but despite it all, he can't remember ever seeing Cas cry.
Sam groans from the couch, miserable, and Dean swallows, smoothing down his brother's scarily long hair before he walks into the kitchen to fish out a vial they keep for spell ingredients, knowing what he has to do even if he hates it, knowing there's no time to try in vain to find another cure when this could be the difference between Sam living and dying.
"It's okay, Sammy," he mutters to himself, like he's said so many times before when Sam was sick or hurt or scared and their dad was nowhere to be found, when he was the only thing keeping Sam from freaking out even if Dean himself was freaking out on the inside. "It'll be okay."
For a moment, he considers calling down another angel, one that maybe won't care so much, but…angels are generally emotionless winged dicks, and Dean knows anything he says to them will slide right off with water. No, if it's tears he needs, there's only one place to get them, as much as he hates to do it.
"Cas?" he prays, voice unexpectedly hoarse, conflicted even though he knows he doesn't have much of a choice. "Hope you got your ears on. Need you here ASAP, buddy. It's important. It's…it's Sam."
He can't help but slip in the small pet name, even though he knows what he's gonna have to do soon. He's tired of hurting Cas, would never hurt Cas again if he had a choice, but he doesn't have a choice. He can't live without Sam, and Cas…well, Cas is a tough little dude. He'll…he'll be fine.
That's what he tries to tell himself, at least, though he doubts the truth in it. Cas has always cared way more than he should about them and their problems. Dude's an angel and he burdens himself with the little problem of people whose lives are probably just a blip in his radar, something the other angels would never even bother with.
But Cas isn't like the other angels, never has been. He's always been…softer, which is good for some things, but bad for others. He gets into all kinds of trouble trying to keep them from having to worry about something, picking up on that stubbornness and an inability to communicate from them, the Winchester fatal flaws. But beneath that, Cas cares and he gets hurt by things, even if he doesn't show it.
Dean just hopes Cas won't get too hurt from this, that he'll still be there for Dean to explain everything. For the first time, a tiny part of him is glad Cas can't just flap off anymore…
Maybe it won't play out like that at all and he's getting all worked up for nothing. Cas is still an angel, even if his mojo is super weak these days. Maybe…maybe he'll be able to heal Sam. It's a drop of hope, but Dean doesn't really put too much faith in it, knowing deep down that it's not gonna happen that way no matter how much easier it'd be. Besides, since when do they ever get what they want?
It feels like hours before the Bunker door creaks open. Dean spent the time alternating between drinking himself into a stupor and trying to keep Sam from deteriorating, trying to keep him comfortable. It doesn't make it any easier when Cas comes into sight, frazzled and worried, clothes and hair disheveled like the good old days, a frantic look in his eyes.
"Dean," Cas begins, and Dean swallows from where he's sitting in the library, Sam resting fitfully beside him, "I came as fast as I could. What's happening? Is Sam all right?"
"No. He's burning up from the inside-out. Witch spell. Be dead in a few days."
Cas' face is stricken and he wastes no time in going over there, pressing his hand to Sam's head, eyes closed in concentration. Dean holds his breath, hoping Cas'll be able to heal him, but that hope shrivels up and dies when Cas pulls away, looking guilty. That look makes him want to do nothing more than pull Cas into a hug, to assure him it's not his fault what he can and can't do, knowing that Cas picked up on a little too much from them and that he probably won't believe it anyway.
But it doesn't matter. He knows that isn't what he has to do, not now. No, no matter how horrible it makes them both feel, he knows what he has to do.
Dean shakes his head, standing, bitter at that witch for making him have to do this. "Can't heal him, huh? Figures."
Cas looks up, startled. "W-what?"
"Seems pretty on par that you can't heal him, doesn't it? You can't seem to do much of anything these days." The angel glances away for a second, and Dean forces himself to add, hating himself more by the second, "What took you so long, Cas, huh? You used to be able to get here in a snap, and now…"
"I…I can't fly anymore…"
The sorrow, the heartbreak in his voice makes Dean want to curl up in a ball, knowing how touchy of a subject Cas' wings are and not wanting to poke at the scars that having a vital part of Cas stripped away have left. But maybe if he hits deep and fast, that'll mean less pain in the long run. That thought and the idea of Sammy dying are the only things that keep him going.
"Uh huh. And whose fault is that?"
"I-I was tricked. Deceived by Metatron—"
"Another thing that happens more and more. Always getting screwed over by somebody, aren't you? Ever wonder why?" He looks Cas in the eye, hoping they're already wet with tears, but no dice. Right… "'Cause you're too damn trusting. You'll trust just anybody that walks along and says two encouraging words, never realizing that they're all a bunch of lies, you poor stupid son of a bitch."
"Dean, I…I'm sorry that I can't heal Sam," Cas murmurs, voice fragile. "You know I would if I could—"
"But you can't," he interrupts harshly, willing the angel to break now before he gets in too deep, but Cas stays strong. "You can't do much of anything anymore. No wings, no healing, no grace, no place in Heaven—are you even an angel anymore? Then again, you make an even crappier human…"
"Dean, you're…you're upset," Cas breaks in tentatively, nodding to himself, obviously desperate to believe his own words. "You're upset and intoxicated. You don't…you don't mean this."
"Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night," Dean snaps back, and Cas looks like he was slapped, making Dean feel like a stone just dropped in his stomach. "Everybody else does nothing but lie to you. Should've figured you'd start lying to yourself too, right?"
The angel is quiet at that, making intense eye contact with the floor. Dean ducks his head to meet those big blue eyes, desperately hoping to see tears there now before he has to go any further, but he has no such luck. Instead, he just sees Cas giving him a kicked puppy look that makes him wanna kill whoever dared to put that look on his best buddy's face.
"I don't know what it is with you, man. Kick you out once and you just keep on coming back, don't you? Impressive, considering you can't even fly anymore. Seriously, what kind of an angel can't fly, man?"
Still no tears. Swallowing, he goes for the throat, hating himself more and more by the second, but a glance at Sam pushes him forward. He can't lose Sam, he just can't. He can only hope he won't end up losing Cas in the process.
"I guess you're just waiting for somebody to spell it out, huh?" he asks, voice shaking a little, but he forces himself to keep going. "You're quickly losing your worth, pal. Your powers are nearly gone, so why do we even keep you around? These days, you're just a burden hanging around like a-a dying dog with a bad limp. You keep it for sentimental value, but man, you're just waiting for it to drop over and stop being such a pain in the ass."
"I-I… I won't allow you to take your frustrations out on me, Dean," Cas says with a determined jut in his chin, but his eyes are definitely shinier than they were a few seconds ago. Almost… "I'll help you look for a cure. We have many books in the library—"
"Don't you get it?" Dean snaps, knowing how close he is, fingers inching towards the vial in his pocket. "We don't need you, we don't want you, so why can't you get that through your thick, feathery skull?"
The rapidly forming tears build up, but don't fall. "D-Dean…"
"Why don't you just go, Cas?" His fingers wrap around the vial. "And take your feelings for me with you."
The tears finally spill with a choked off noise that makes Dean's heart ache, a feeling that only gets more painful when he steps forward, only to see Cas take a shaky step back, like he's…afraid of him…
In all the years and through all their fights and all the times they've butted heads, not once have either of them really been afraid of the other. Even when they first met, Dean just felt weirdly…safe in the presence of the supernatural creature he never even knew existed until then, felt in awe when Cas showed his wings whereas he probably should've felt threatened. And now…
It breaks his heart in two, but Dean can't worry about that now. Instead, he keeps pressing forward until Cas is against the wall, letting out one shaky breath after another that Dean forces himself to ignore as he presses the vial to Cas' cheek, collecting the stream of tears that are running down his face.
"D-Dean, what…?"
He cuts off Cas' hesitant whisper, murmuring as he gently pats the poor guy's shoulder, "Shh…"
The fight seems to leave the angel all at once, with Cas just letting him collect a vial of his tears, a sob spilling from his mouth after a moment. He wants to assure him it's okay, that he didn't mean it, but he can't, not until he's certain he has enough. The sight of Cas' broken posture kills him, but he can't do anything about it now.
Instead, Dean tries not to think about any of that and runs off to add the anguished angel tears to the spell he'd half prepared earlier, frantically mixing the key ingredient in and hating that witch more and more by the second with every little noise Cas makes, noises that he's trying really hard to ignore for the time being.
The potion starts glowing, which he can only hope means it's working, but he doesn't have a lot of time to experiment, so he feeds it to Sam anyway without testing it. To his relief, some of the tension leaves Sam's oversized forehead as his abdomen starts glowing like the potion had been. Then, after a moment, it's all over and Sam slumps back to the bed, breathing easier.
Dean pats his brother's limp shoulder and tells him to rest before turning back to find Cas, hoping he didn't run off like Dean had told him to, though when he catches sight of the angel, he almost wishes Cas did leave, even if he instantly hates himself for the thought almost as much as he does for the look on Cas' face.
Devastated is a way to describe it in one word. Cas is still just standing against the wall, but he has his arms wrapped around his torso in an imitation of a hug and there are tears running down his face, expression crushed in a way he's never seen on the angel before and wishes he never did. Their eyes meet, and another horrible sob spills from Cas' mouth. Cas…
"Cas," he rasps, and Cas' eyes drop away again. Cas never avoids eye contact… "Cas, I…I'm sorry, man. It was for a spell, and…"
He can see his words aren't getting through this time around and shuts up, stepping closer to the angel hesitantly. Once he's close enough, he pulls Cas into a proper hug, a hand on the back of Cas' neck to encourage him to rest his head on Dean's shoulder, because he's a coward and can't stand to see Cas looking like that anymore, especially since he knows he's the cause.
"Sam was hit by a spell that was eating him up and boiling all his organs and stuff, and one of the ingredients for the cure was 'anguished angel tears,'" he explains in a whisper, as if that'll take away the things he said. "I-I knew there was only one way to get it. I'm sorry, Cas. I'm so sorry…"
Cas doesn't respond, but after a long moment, he feels two hesitant arms reach out to weakly hug back. Dean lets him hug for as long as he wants whereas he'd usually end it before either of them could get too comfortable, denying himself the comfort of a congrats-on-not-dying hug or a look-who's-back-from-the-dead hug no matter how much he wanted to stay there forever, holding Cas close.
But Cas doesn't deserve that, has never deserved that, especially not now.
"You gotta know that's not how I feel, right Cas? You gotta know I was just—I was trying to hurt you. For the spell. And I knew how, but that doesn't mean I actually think any of that crap. You gotta know that, right Cas?"
Cas' silence is very telling, and Dean's heart drops as he rubs the angel's back in little circles, trying to soothe him. Cas doesn't move into it or away from it, just standing there stiffly, another difference that Dean can't stand. Cas has always melted into hugs, squeezing as close to Dean physically as possible, and now…
"Cas…" Dean says, voice breaking on the word. "Please, man. You gotta know I don't feel that way—about any of it. C'mon, read my mind. Do your Vulcan mind trick and read my thoughts, buddy."
"I can't," Cas finally whispers, arms squeezing just a little tighter, though not near as tight as he usually does. "I'm too weak…"
"W-well, just look me in the eyes then. C'mon, you gotta know…" The angel doesn't look at him, and Dean's heart breaks all over again. "Cas…"
"I understand," the angel says, which is just about the worst thing he could say. "Sam was hurt. I…I understand."
"And now you're hurt," Dean replies hastily, pulling him closer and hugging him tighter, like he can squeeze all the hurt out. "I never wanted to….to hurt you, but I had to. I-I'll show you the spell if you want. You gotta believe me, Cas, please. I never wanna see you cry…"
Great, now Dean's crying. He doesn't even half care, not right now, not while he's looking at Cas' beat down posture and his shoulder is all wet from the tears he never wanted to see in his best friend's eyes. Freakin' witches…
"I believe you," Cas tells him eventually, pulling away just a little, and Dean swallows at the sight of his puffy eyes. "I just…believe you both times."
"What…what do you mean?" he asks tentatively, worried.
"You're right, Dean. I am useless without my grace, and I'm getting weaker by the day. I'm hardly even an angel anymore…" Cas' voice somehow gets even quieter. "And you were…right about my feelings…"
"Cas, I…"
"D'n?" a new voice pipes up, and he sees Sam struggle to lift his giant head from the pillow. "What happ'ned?"
Dean swallows, relieved to see his brother awake. Cas tenses in his arms and tries to move away, the self-sacrificing bastard that he is, but Dean decidedly keeps holding him close in a hug. Sam will be fine now that the spell's out of his system, but Cas still needs him, so he's not going anywhere.
"You got hit by a spell," he explains. "That witch got you good. Knocked you right on your ass with something that was killing you. You've…you've been out for days, Sammy."
"Huh." Sam shifts around and locks eyes with them, and any other time, he'd probably be springing away from Cas, but right now, Dean doesn't move an inch. "Is Cas okay?"
"I'm fine," the angel says immediately, because he's all but a Winchester these days and that's their catchphrase.
"Physically, yeah," Dean cuts in, disapproving face in place before he glances at a curious Sam. "One of the ingredients was, uh, 'anguished angel tears'."
"Dean. Tell me you didn't…"
"I did," he admits, not hiding a thing even though this is definitely the kind of conversation he would usually avoid like the plague. "I really screwed up, and now I made Cas think all kinds of stuff. And I'm no good at words, so I don't even know how to fix it."
"Admitting to it is the first step to fixing things," Sam offers weakly, and as much as Dean wants to fuss over him the same way he's done since he was four years old, Sam's not the one who needs him right now.
"Cas…you're not useless without your powers, and even if you were, that's not why we want you here—and we do, y'know…want you here," Dean fumbles to say, finally releasing Cas enough to look at his face, reddened from crying. "We want you here because you're family, man, mojo or not. We gave you a room to make you feel more at home in the Bunker and stuff because we want you here, y'know?"
"It's not really the same in here without you," Sam adds with a nod, though they both know words mean way more to Cas when they come from Dean than when they're from Sam. 'More profound bond' or whatever. "This place can be your home too."
"The angels don't want you? It's their loss—but that doesn't mean you don't have a home," Dean continues hastily, desperate to take back every single word he said. "And y'know, driving isn't so bad, right? I know it's not as fast, but me and Sammy, we had some of our best times in that car, and you…I mean, you can do that too, Cas. 'Cause you're…family…and stuff. And I…y'know…you, too. With your…feelings."
That earns him a watery sort of smile that's all tense around the edges. "Dean, you don't have to pretend. It's all right."
"Damnit, Cas! I'm trying to say that I love you!" He pauses, but shakes his head. Now's not the time to backpedal. "I'm a damn coward, okay? But that fact ain't gonna change—the first one, that is—and I know you feel the same and…and I love you."
"Dean…I love you too," the angel states, but Dean can hear the 'but' in there loud and clear, even if Cas doesn't continue.
"But it'll take time to get over this," Sam supplies for them, and Dean should be embarrassed that his little brother is watching all this, but right now, he doesn't give a crap. "Love doesn't fix the hurt. Only time and reassurance will."
Dean deflates a little, but he knows that's fair, so he gives Cas one last hug before moving to step away, only to find that Cas is still holding onto him with a death grip. "Cas?"
"I do need time, I think," Cas says slowly, the beginnings of a squint on his face as he visibly struggles to find the words, "but I…don't want you to leave. Can you stay here for now?"
Dean relaxes a little and hugs his angel again. "Sure, buddy. Whatever you need."
He knows things are far from fixed and that Cas' insecurities won't just melt away with a few kind words—he's just too much of a Winchester these days, for better or for worse—but Dean has hope that things will eventually be okay between them again, that they can possibly become closer from this.
That damn witch knocked Sammy out of commission and made Dean hurt his best friend, but the spell also got them talking, and while he desperately wishes the circumstances were different, he realizes there's nothing they can do about any of that beyond just moving forward. The past may be a mess, but that doesn't mean the future has to be. They'll find some way to work through this, just like they always do—together.