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flightlesscas · 9 years ago

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ONE HUNDRED WAYS TO SAY ‘I LOVE YOU’ (x) 79. “I’ll still be here when you’re ready.”

It had been nearly three days since Castiel had finally turned back to Castiel. Three days of sleepless nights, yelling and murmured accusations from Dean. Three days of silence from Cas.

Even now, Castiel was as quiet as a mouse, sitting stock still and staring down at his hands on his lap without any sign of movement. It was maddening. And terrifying. And Dean had ran out of things to do. Apparently screaming at the guy wouldn’t work, nor begging. All Dean could do now was accept it for what it was, even if it was the most difficult thing to do.

Dean opened his mouth and shut it. He’d been sitting next to Cas now for about ten minutes and he still didn’t have a clue what to say or how to start it. Everything was a fucking mess. That was an understatement.

“I’ve been so pissed at you for not fucking talking to me,” Dean mumbled, choosing to go straight to the point. “But it’s not about me, is it? You’ve been through some shit. The only other person who could understand a bit of what you’re going through is Sam and he’s telling me to leave you the fuck alone until you’re ready. So I’m gonna listen to him. For once,” Dean huffed, rubbing his hand tiredly over his face. He felt like he’d aged ten years the past few weeks. He swore new wrinkled had formed.

“I get it,” Dean continued, even though he didn’t get it. He didn’t get any of it at all. He didn’t understand why Cas had done what he’d done and he didn’t know why Cas wasn’t talking now. At least to try and explain what the fuck he’d been thinking when he’d said yes to Lucifer.

“You don’t want to talk right now. You need some time. Or whatever,” Dean said, failing miserably with his words. He was never good at this shit.

“I’ll still be here when you’re ready,” he offered quietly, his voice a quiet rumble.

There was no sign on Castiel’s features that hinted he’d even heard a word. No flicker of emotion in those baby blues, not even a blink, or a slight curve of the corners of his mouth. Nothing. And the longer Castiel kept quiet and still, the longer Dean wondered whether he was truly broken. Lucifer had inhabited him for a long time, longer than he had of Sam and Sam’s brain had almost turned to jello. Dean still remembered what the guy who’d had Raphael in his skull had turned into. He’d been nothing but a sitting duck, dribbling his non-existent life away. Sure, Cas was an angel, but that didn’t mean he was going to be okay after this. But Dean had been counting on Cas’ angelicness to save him. And he was still counting on it. Cas had to be okay, he had to be.

After a few more seconds of silence, Dean sighed, long and drawn out. “Alright buddy,” he muttered, squeezing Cas’ shoulder once more before standing up. Maybe Castiel was gone. Maybe this was all that was left. If that was the case, could Cas still hear him? Or was there nothing left and the nicer thing to do would be to put a blade through his skull. Even if it was, Dean wasn’t doing it. Stubbornness was his strong point and he wasn’t giving up on Cas, even if it was years.

Just as Dean was about to open the door and leave Cas to it, whatever it was, Castiel finally fucking spoke.

“I was so stupid.”

Dean froze. He turned on his heels, looking back at the man who had been a statue only two seconds ago. Castiel hadn’t moved, besides a slight tip of his head, making shadows cover his hard features.

“What did you say?” Dean asked slowly. Had he just imagined that or had Cas finally fucking spoke? Or was Dean now hallucinating out of sheer desperation? It was possible. Maybe even more likely than the former.

Castiel’s hands wrung together, almost like he was trying to hurt himself, like that would solve everything. Like it would turn back the time and stop Lucifer ever becoming a problem. If only.

“I thought –“ Castiel’s tongue darted out of his mouth, wetting his lips, “I thought I was doing the right thing. He said he could defeat her. He was our only chance.”

“Cas.” Dean shook his head. He wasn’t sure what else to say. None of it made sense to him. He’d been so fucking sure, when Sam had told him Cas was no longer Cas but Lucifer, that Cas had been forced into it. Maybe Lucifer had been smart and got in without permission, he was the fucking Devil after all. But he hadn’t been tricked or forced, Castiel had said yes on his own accord. And it didn’t make sense.

Thankfully, Castiel didn’t wait for Dean to speak any more. He just continued to rattle on, voice quiet, slow and broken. “He had defeated her before. And the only way for him to do it again was for him to have a vessel. I wasn’t going to let him take Sam,” Castiel spoke with determination, though Dean noted that Cas still hadn’t looked up, still hadn’t gazed into his eyes yet.

“And I wasn’t going to let him use any vessel out there because none would be strong enough. So I said yes, because I – I knew my body would be capable of holding him and he wouldn’t have to use Sam,” Castiel explained.

Dean bit the inside of his cheek. He was angry, he realised. Angrier than he’d thought he’d be. “We didn’t need him, Cas,” he replied coolly, trying to keep calm. Fuck, he really hadn’t noticed how fucking angry he was until now. He thought he’d be concerned, disappointed, or downright confused, but at the moment, all of that was fucking forgotten. He was just fucking pissed. Angry at Cas for letting Lucifer in, for letting himself rot away in his own body, for leaving Dean yet again.

“Yes we did,” Castiel argued. “At least that’s –“ he sighed, “that’s what I thought. We needed to kill Amara, we needed her gone.” Finally, Castiel looked up at Dean. There was no remorse there now. Whatever had been going on in his head when he’s said yes to Lucifer, he still believed in it.

Castiel’s eyes flashed with importance, reminding Dean that he could be crushed like an insignificant ant by the man standing in front of him. He used to constantly think that when he looked into Cas’ eyes, back when they were strangers and all they had in common was the hand print on Dean’s shoulder. But that thought had slowly become smaller and smaller over the years, when it had become more and more apparent that Cas was fully blown dork in Dean’s eyes..

But every now and then Cas would get a glint in his eyes, or would kill a monster with barely a flick of his wrist, and Dean would be reminded of what Cas could do. It always took Dean’s breath away, catching his heart for one, two, sometimes even three beats.

“You needed her gone,” Castiel continued. “She was sending you to the brink, Dean. She needed to be stopped.”

Dean shook his head. Was Cas really saying that he’d done all of this for him? Because that wasn’t fucking fair. Cas couldn’t put this on him. He couldn’t say that he’d let Lucifer into his fucking skull so Dean would be saved. He couldn’t put that on Dean’s shoulders. Because then it would just re-remind Dean that he had this weird fucking thing with Amara and Cas had done all of this to help him get out of it.

“So bringing out Lucifer into the world again, you thought that would be a good idea? So we’d have two baddies to deal with instead?” Dean’s voice was rising and rising. Even if Cas had been doing it to save Dean or whatever the fuck he’d been thinking, how did he think that letting Lucifer out would truly help them? Help Dean? Letting the angel out that had nearly killed Dean – no, more importantly – the angel that had tortured Sam. Why would Cas have thought that would have helped Dean?

“I –“ Castiel opened his mouth to try and give more of an excuse. But Dean didn’t let him.

“Fuck.” Dean’s hands balled into fists. He was surprised he hadn’t kicked the wall yet. “I am so fucking pissed with you!” Dean yelled. Now the initial relief was gone, the worry that had had him fretting over Cas ever since they’d brought him back to the bunker, emotionless and silent, the ball of fury in his gut was rising and rising.

Castiel’s gaze faltered. “I know.” His shoulders sunk “And I deserve that,” he said, clearly sincere. Even though he believed in what he’d done, he still seemed sorry, embarrassed even.

“I didn’t think it through. All I thought about was killing Amara. I thought then you and Sam could deal with Lucifer. I had faith in you and I would have tried my hardest to help you –“ Castiel continued.

“Help us kill Lucifer while you were still tied to him?” Dean said flatly. Because that’s what they would have had to have done. Cas wouldn’t have been able to cast him out. They would have had to have killed Cas alongside him. And this time, Cas might not have come back, even though Dean always believed he somehow would. It was Cas’ thing, to come back to Dean, not even letting death stop him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I let Lucifer back out of the cage. It was an insult. To both you and Sam. You sacrificed so much to get him back into the cage and I knew that. And I brought him back. I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel pleaded, though he didn’t understand. He didn’t fucking get it.

“That’s not even the fucking point, Cas!” Dean yelled, slamming his hand against the wall, so hard that it made it shake under his palm. Oddly, it gave him flashes of his past life of when he was a demon. Great. Just what Dean fucking needed.

“You think that’s why I’m so mad at you? Because you let Lucifer out? If that was why I was so fucking mad, I would have killed Sam by now because he was the reason all three of us were in that cage in the first place! You really think that’s what the problem is here?” Dean couldn’t stop himself from shouting. Now his vocal chords were protesting as he screeched, he couldn’t stop fucking using them.

Castiel blinked slowly. “Of course. Why else would you be?” He maddeningly half shrugged, a tiny movement of one of his shoulders that made Dean want to hit the wall again.

“Oh you dumb son of a bitch,” Dean murmured under his breath, in disbelief. “Why else would I -?” Dean’s voice rose even more, catching slightly. If he were an angel, the static would have flooded the room and cracked everything like Dean’s heart felt. “You basically killed yourself! Saying yes to Lucifer was signing your fucking life away.”

Castiel’s face was still blank, a terrifying mirror of what must have been going on in Cas’ mind. “I didn’t matter.”

Dean recoiled, stepping back as if Cas had punched him. He might as well have done. It was like a fucking stab to the gut. Honestly, he would have preferred to have been hit than hear those fucking words come out of that mouth. “What? How the fuck can you –“

“I didn’t matter,” Castiel repeated, like he didn’t fucking realise what he was doing to Dean by saying that. “What mattered was killing Amara. And when that was over, you would have killed –“

“I would have killed you!” Dean yelled. He was so fucking mad that he was close to tears now, a rippling effect inside his chest that was threatening to burst out. He’d kept all of his worries inside the past few weeks, ever since Cas had turned into the Devil.

“You wanted me to kill you, Cas! You wanted me to find a way to end you. How the fuck can you think that was okay? You’re sitting there saying it didn’t matter that you knew you were going to die.”

Castiel still didn’t understand, though he looked confused at Dean’s reaction. His mouth was down turning at the corners and a small little wrinkle was forming between his eyebrows. “But it doesn’t –“

“It matters to me!” Dean’s voice broke. “It matters to Sam.” He pointed behind him, wherever the fuck Sam was hiding out in the bunker. Fuck, he’d probably left the building after hearing Dean’s yells. “For fucks sake, it matters to me, Cas. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m expendable,” Castiel said matter-of-factly, like it wasn’t the first time he’d said that. He truly believed it, Dean realised with a thud of his heart.

“Not to me you’re not,” Dean stormed. Before he knew what he was doing, he was rushing forward and kneeling in front of Cas, hands bracketing Cas’ face tightly. He forced eye contact, hands shaking against Cas’ skin. “Don’t you fucking say that. And don’t you ever fucking do anything like that again. Don’t you do that to me. You don’t get to fucking do that. After everything, after everything we have fucking been through, you have the nerve to look me in the eye and say you’re expendable?”

Castiel blinked at him. Nothing more.

Dean’s throat went thick as his fingertips dug into Cas’ cheekbones. “You are fucking important.”

“I am? You think that?” Castiel asked, one of his hands involuntarily coming up to grip Dean’s forearm, like he was worried Dean was going somewhere. His voice was small, almost like he was a small child asking for approval from his parent. It made Dean remember how he was with John, desperate to hear acceptance from him, proudness. Desperate to hear that he cared about him without it being forced out of him because one of them was about to die. Dean knew exactly what it felt like and he was doing the exact same thing to Cas. He was letting him feel unwanted. Unnecessary to part of Dean’s life.

“This is my fault,” Dean realised. “You think this because of me. Cas.” He pressed their foreheads together, letting one of his hands slide back to rest on the nape of Cas’ neck. “I’m so fucking sorry, Cas. I’m sorry.”

Somewhere along the conversation, the lines had blurred. Instead of Dean expecting an apology from the angel, he now expected to grovel to Cas.

“I know sometimes I’ve pushed away. Or I haven’t –“ Dean’s eyes fluttered shut, “I haven’t been there for your problems like I should have been. But that’s on me, that’s cause I’m a shit friend. It doesn’t mean anything about you. You are not expendable or unimportant.” He leant out of their embrace, letting his thumbs smooth over Cas’ skin. Seeing Cas look back at him through those piercing eyes instead of Lucifer was almost jarring, but like looking at home. God, he’d fucking missed him.

“You are one of two of the most important people to me. One of two, Cas. And I need you to promise me that you will never do anything like that again. I need you to do that for me. Because I can’t lose you. You hearing me?” Dean bit the inside of his cheek, unable to put into words how much he really couldn’t lose Cas. He couldn’t do it again. He’d lost him so many damn times. If it happened again, Dean was worried it would actually kill him this time.

“I –“ Castiel swallowed. He was still quiet, still unsure. And he still looked fucking confused at what Dean was saying. “Okay.”

Dean huffed tiredly, “You still don’t believe me do you?”

Castiel opened his mouth and closed it, jaw hard as he squeezed Dean’s arm tightly. If he carried on holding as tightly as he was, he was going to leave a bruise like he did oh so long ago. He didn’t say anything, but Cas didn’t need to. It was clear what was going on in his head. He truly didn’t believe Dean. Not one fucking bit.

Dean sighed, tired but accepting. He’d been in Cas’ shoes. He knew what it was like to think that it didn’t fucking matter if you lived or died. There was nothing in particular that Dean could do to change Cas’ mind, it was clear. Once your brain had talked itself into hating it’s existence, there was nothing anyone else could do to change that. The only person who could get Cas to love himself was Cas. But that didn’t mean Dean couldn’t try and give some kind of helping hand.

Gently, and ever so fucking slowly, Dean pressed their foreheads together again, nudging their nose awkwardly together. Castiel didn’t do anything to stop him, though Dean was sure he heard Cas’ breath hitch. But there was no sign of Cas telling him to back the fuck off.

“Cas,” Dean whispered, barely audible. He wasn’t sure what else to say. Now, all he could think and breathe was Cas. After another shaky breathe and a squeeze of Cas’ fingertips against Dean’s skin, Dean caught Cas’ bottom lip between his mouth. It was a soft kiss, barely even anything at all. But it was enough for Dean. After how many fucking years, it was enough.

“You believe me now?” Dean mumbled against Cas’ mouth, worried to push back because that would mean he would have to see what Cas was saying on his face.

“I –“ Castiel started to speak but then stopped.

“Don’t ever do that again to me, you hear?” Dean asked, gaining courage and leaning back so he could catch Cas’ expression. There was something on there indescribable, something that Dean wasn’t sure he’d seen on there before. But it wasn’t disgust. Or terror. His eyes looked confused, but there was warmth there too. A softness that had Dean internally breathing a sigh of relief.

Castiel didn’t speak, though his gaze never stopped raking over Dean’s face. And then he nodded, albeit a small one. For now, it was enough.

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #flightless writing #look i wrote a thing #after 6 months of writing nothing oops #i don't even think anyone even looks at my blog anymore no one cares #but oh well #i've written something so *shrugs*

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