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nguyenxtrang · 3 years ago

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I wish I could save you (I wish I could tell you)

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel

Words: 4.7k

Description: Dean mourns Cas, and regrets not telling him how he feels. So, as soon as they get him back, he decides to be more honest than he's ever been.

Ao3

Haven't written them for a year and missed it too much haha might be ooc and parts are forced but idc, I like it hah

***

Dean’s sitting at the table in the bunker library, a half-empty bottle of whiskey and an unused glass next to him, and a knife in hand. He’s in the process of carving Castiel’s name into the table next to their initials, anger bubbling up under his skin, together with growing despair. He’s always so angry, and now he’s not sure where he should direct it. He’s mad at the Empty for taking Cas, at Cas for making stupid deals and not telling him about it, at Chuck for creating this whole mess… But that anger is almost overcome by the crushing feelings of hopelessness and defeat. They won, and yet he feels defeated. They might have saved the world, but the truth is, he lost his.

So, he sits there and drinks. He just wants to stop feeling this way, even just for a minute. He feels on the verge of either crying or punching something, which would preferably result in getting hurt too. He wants to do something. To try to feel something other than his heart breaking a little more every time he recalls his last moments with Cas. Every time he recalls being so stunned and shocked he actually couldn’t tell Cas-

“Hey, you okay?” he hears Sam’s tentative voice from the entrance.

“Peachy.” he grunts, taking a long sip of whiskey straight from the bottle.

“Do you- Do you wanna talk?” Sam cautiously approaches the table.

“Do I ever?” Dean finally looks at his brother with a raised eyebrow, but then immediately regrets it, seeing the concern on his face. Concern for Dean. He doesn’t want Sam to worry about him, he’s fine. Well, he’s not fine, but he can deal with it on his own, like always.

The world almost ended, again, and Sam is worried about Dean. Again. Why is it always him? Why can’t some other bastard suffer for once? What did he do to deserve this? No, seriously, he, Sam and Cas have saved the world so many times now. Why are they destined to suffer? Chuck isn’t even around anymore, and this shitshow continues. Dean genuinely doesn’t know what to do with his life now. He can’t imagine a future without Cas, he never thought he’d have to. Despite the fights and falling-outs, he honestly thought, or even expected, that they’d be together forever, as best friends or… or what he didn’t dare hope for, but as it happens, could’ve had if he wasn’t so stupid.

“Dean.” Sam’s voice gets through his thoughts, and he realizes Sam’s been talking for a while, and a single tear is falling down Dean’s face now. He angrily wipes it away, going back to carving. Sam sits down next to him with a heavy sigh. “I know-” he starts, but Dean cuts him off.

“You don’t.”

“I know it’s about Cas. Obviously.” Sam finishes anyway, and Dean’s hand stills at hearing the name, the tip of the knife hovering over the first line of the letter E. “You know, you can talk to me about him if you want. I know it’s not-” he pauses abruptly, clears his throat, and instead says: “Uh, I miss him too. Will you ever tell me about what actually happened to him?”

“What’s there to say?” Dean asks dryly, taking another sip. “I told you, he summoned the Empty and saved me.”

“Yeah, but-” Sam starts, but Dean interrupts, anger seeping into his voice:

“He made a fucking deal with the fucking Empty. To save Jack.”

“What do you mean?” Sam’s almost whispering, as if he thinks speaking up will spook Dean or something, and he won’t be willing to share anymore. He’s not about to talk about his feelings, though. He missed his chance on that. But he thinks that Sam deserves to know how Cas- how he- how it happened. Cas was Sam’s best friend, too, and they haven’t had the chance to talk about it yet.

“Jack’s life for his. Basically, he, uh, he’s truly happy or some shit, and the Empty comes to collect. More or less.” he tries to sound neutral, but his breath catches in his throat, and he takes another long sip from the bottle, then goes back to carving the name, but despite himself, his mouth keeps moving, his voice quiet. “We were cornered, Billie was just outside the door, about to kill us- I knew I’d have to watch him die again-” his voice breaks and he clears his throat, not even having the energy to feel embarrassed about that. His brother saw him at his lowest multiple times, he doesn’t have to try to hide shit from him or feel embarrassed – or so he’s trying to convince himself. “And then he- well, I guess he had his ‘moment of true happiness’, because the Empty came and took him and Billie, which you already knew.” he shakes his head. “The bastard saved my life and I couldn’t even- Fuck, man.” he takes a deep breath. Thinking about it non-stop is enough to hurt like hell, but talking about it is just too much for him to handle. “Okay, chick-flick moment over. I’m done. Now you know what happened and you can stop bothering me.”

“No, wait, but what did he do? How did he summon the Empty? How did he get happy in those circumstances?” damn Sam and his curiosity.

“He- It doesn’t matter. It’s between me and him. Not like I can do anything about it now.” he chuckles bitterly, gripping the knife so hard his knuckles went white. The blade gleams welcomingly in the faint light of the library lamps, tempting him to wrap his hand around it or run his fingers over it. To draw blood, to feel that pleasant sharp sting. He knows, he remembers, that physical pain could distract him from feeling like his heart was cut out of his chest and left a gaping hole there, even just for a second. “I’m such a stupid asshole.” he adds through gritted teeth.

“Can’t argue with that.” Sam tries for a joke. Dean isn’t kidding, though, and he’s really not in the mood.

“Yeah.” he clears his throat again. “Are we done with this conversation now?” he asks a bit rudely, but he honestly doesn’t give a fuck. He wants to finish carving, adding Jack’s name there, too – he’s not gone gone, but he’s a part of his family – and finish his whiskey, maybe get another bottle to truly numb himself, and then go to bed and quietly sob into his pillow or pass out from drinking too much. And tomorrow, when he’s a bit more sober, he’ll take Baby and drive somewhere he can let it all out, whether by crying or screaming or punching trees until his knuckles bleed. Maybe he needs a hunt, just to channel all that anger into something useful.

“Fine. You mind if I stay here, though? Do some research?” Sam asks, still with that tentativeness in his voice. Dean has no idea what the hell he needs to research right now, it’s not like they have anything to take care of, and it’s pretty late, but he grunts something that’s supposed to mean ‘sure, whatever.’

Then, the room falls silent, save for the sounds of pages turning, books being gently put on the table or back on the shelves, glass clinking against the table, and a knife scraping against wood.

Once both Jack’s and Cas’ names are carved and the bottle is empty, Dean leaves the library, going straight for his room, stopping for another bottle in the kitchen, and leaving Sam still rummaging through books. Dean drinks some more and quietly cries until he passes out.

***

When Dean wakes up, it’s way too early, his head is pounding, and his bladder is way too full after a bottle and a half of alcohol. He goes to the bathroom, catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and immediately turns away, not wanting to see how shitty he looks beyond the red and puffy eyes, which clearly indicate he’s been crying. Then he makes his way towards the kitchen for a bottle of beer – in theory he knows it’s fucked up and really unhealthy that this is his first thought in the morning, but that’s just how he functions, and he’s mourning now, and he really doesn’t give a fuck.

Passing the library he sees Sam still at the table, asleep with his head on the pages of a book opened in front of him. He walks up to him and takes the book out from under his head quickly and swiftly, which causes Sam’s head to bump against the table, and he wakes up.

“You spent the whole night here?” Dean asks, while Sam quietly complains about his forehead hurting now, rubbing the spot where it hit the table. “What are you researching?”

“I’m trying to find a way to bring Cas back.” Sam admits, and Dean freezes, feeling his expression harden. He doesn’t want to start hoping only to be met with disappointment and even more heartache later.

“Don’t.” Dean just grunts, turning to walk away. He can’t get his hopes up. He can’t. If there’s a possibility, he doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t think he’d be able to live if they found a way and then it wouldn’t work out. He’s pretty sure that would send him over the edge – though he is pretty much there already. He’s just one more disappointment away from snapping and really doing something enormously idiotic and reckless.

“Dean.” Sam calls after him. “I know you miss him, and I miss him too. I know it’s a little different for you, though.” he starts and Dean stops in his tracks. What the hell? “And we lost him so many times before, and I saw what that did to you every time. I can’t- I don’t want to see you go through this again. You’re my brother and I want you to be happy. I found my person I can be happy with, and-”

“What do you mean different for me?” Dean interrupts. He knows what Sam meant. He doesn’t want to admit it to his brother, though. He knows each time Cas died they both mourned, but it always hit him harder. He knows why. He’s known for years. He didn’t know Sam knows, though. He keeps standing with his back towards Sam, not able to face him, especially if they were having this conversation.

“You know.” Sam sighs. “Dean, you’re over forty years old. Don’t you think it’s about time you stopped pretending? It’s just me, and I’m not judging you. I’d never. Not about this. And if you weren’t so stubborn and- and repressed, everything could look different.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he insists stubbornly, probably only proving Sam’s point.

Sam’s voice is quiet and reassuring, though a bit exasperated, when he says: “I know that you see Cas as- as more than just a best friend. I see how you feel about him. And he clearly felt the same.” at that, Dean turns around to look at Sam with surprise. Dean knows that now, after Cas explicitly told him, only to fucking- to die after. How did Sam notice it? Any of it? Was Dean just that much in denial about his own feelings he couldn’t see what was right in front of him? “I’m not dumb. Or blind. I’ve been right there through it all. All twelve years of it. I saw the way you looked at each other, the way you were with each other… how hard it was for you especially whenever we lost him. I know.” he emphasizes.

“What’s up with having a fucking feelings conversation now?” Dean asks after a beat, finally moving to leave the library. He feels uncomfortable and vulnerable, and if he doesn’t get out of there right this second, he might just crumble right in front of Sam. And he only allows for that to happen when there’s no one around.

Dean goes to the kitchen and as he takes the first sip of cold beer, Sam enters.

“Seriously? At this hour?” Sam chastises. He rarely comments on Dean’s drinking, usually settling for only disapproving glances, because whenever he did say something in the past, Dean would either brush him off or get angry. This is none of Sam’s business, and Dean doesn’t care. He stopped caring a long time ago, and now that Cas is gone… He feels almost numb, if it wasn’t for the anger.

“Whatever, dude.” Dean shrugs, downing half the bottle. Sam just sighs heavily, the concern and pity fucking oozing out of his expression. Dean knows Sam just wants to help, he’s his brother, he’s worried, just like Dean gets worried about him all the time… but he swears, if he sees that fucking concerned expression for five more minutes, he will punch Sam. Which is why he probably should just go, instead of letting the anger win. He needs to let it out, but not like this.

“Listen, we can find a way-”

“No, you listen.” he lets a bit of the anger seep into his voice and he hates it. “I lost him.” his voice is shaking and he hates that even more. They both lost Cas, but at this point there’s no reason to pretend Dean feels the same way Sam does. “I always lose him. He either gets killed or leaves, and I’m- I can’t do it again.” he’s shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut, trying to prevent the tears from falling. Not in front of Sam. He hates breaking down in front of anyone, especially his younger brother. He’s supposed to be the strong one, the one to take care of Sammy, not the other way around.

“But he always comes back, too. He came back from the Empty once, remember?” Sam says carefully, and that tone of voice, as if he expects Dean to snap, makes him almost do just that, as he briefly considers throwing the bottle against the wall. He doesn’t, though. He takes a few deep breaths and drinks some more, before putting the bottle on the counter next to him. Lately he feels like he’s fighting with every breath not to let the anger out, as if there’s some anger-demon inside of him trying to break free. Well, that’s how he’s felt for years, it just intensified even more now. “There’s always hope.”

“Sam.” Dean looks at his brother with a pained expression, not able to hide behind the mask just yet, it’s way too early in the morning and he’s too hurt, so he allows himself a few seconds of vulnerability. He’ll beat himself up over it later. “If I let myself hope and it doesn’t work out, I won’t survive this.” his voice is quiet, barely a whisper, because he really doesn’t want to admit it. He’s just too overwhelmed by everything, all they went through, all the emotions – the anger, grief, heartbreak, the hopeless love… adding to this the support from his brother, who’s clearly fucking okay with Dean being- with him having feelings for their male – well, an angel, but in a man’s body – best friend… It’s all too much. And he’s too tired to keep hiding it. He’s gone years pretending to be okay, putting on this mask. What’s even the point if he just loses the one thing, the one person, who could make him truly happy? Which is kind of ironic that he was this for Cas, too. Only it got Cas dead, and Dean has to live with it. He doesn’t know how long he can go on, though. Just living from hunt to hunt, no bigger purpose, nothing to distract himself with, with the biggest Big Bad defeated. He’s not even sure he wants to keep hunting, but he needs something to occupy himself and to get that anger out. “I love him, Sammy.” he finally admits, his voice breaking, and a tear escaping and running down his cheek. Sam’s whole expression softens.

“I know. We’ll get him back. I won’t rest until we get him back. And when we do, the first thing you’re gonna do is tell him how you feel. Yeah?” he smiles, as if there’s any reason for smiling yet. As if they’re going to succeed.

“Sure.” Dean wipes the tears and puts on a neutral expression. That was too much vulnerability for a whole year, he feels uncomfortable now. He doesn’t let himself believe in what Sam’s saying, but he figures he might humor him for a minute until they inevitably find out there’s literally nothing they can do. It’s something to occupy his mind and time, at least. A way to keep him from spiraling and completely crumbling. “Where do we start?”

***

As it turns out, Sam has no idea where to start, because there’s not much lore about the Empty. But he’s determined, and Dean hates to admit that some little spark of hope awakens in him, as much as he tries to stifle it. Realistically he knows it’s an impossible task. They go through book after book, anything they can find about cosmic entities, which is obviously not a lot. Not many beings come back from the Empty to report. He knows they for sure will not be able to find any information or get Cas back on their own. That is why they also continuously pray to Jack to get him down here and help, but so far there’s been radio silence. Which Dean really understands. Jack’s God now, the capital G God, which still sounds insane. He has things to take care of, Heaven to rebuild, and millions of people praying to him all the time. Dean’s not sure how that whole praying thing works, but maybe it’s difficult to pick their prayers out of so many.

Eventually he does show up, though, and he promises to bring Cas back. Jack wants that, too, obviously. He says he would never just let Cas stay where he is now. That’s when Dean allows himself to feel hopeful. Jack is God, if anyone can manage this, it’s him. Dean still goes through every book, finds any witch or demon or angel on earth that can tell him anything. He’s frantic and single-minded, focused only on one thing – getting Cas back. He throws himself into it completely and almost obsessively.

Jack is gone for a few days, then weeks, and Dean is restless and needs to keep working. He knows he should wait for Jack, because what else is he supposed to do? There’s really nothing else left. But he can’t just sit and do nothing. He can’t give up. Not when he just started to have hope. He knows that if he stops trying to find a way to get Cas back even for a second, even if there’s literally nothing on earth that can help, he will totally break down and this time he won’t be able to get out of it.

Sam is there through it all, together with Eileen. They both seem worried about him, but also determined to help. They do research, they drive across the country, fly across the world to find some crumbs of information that, unsurprisingly, lead them nowhere.

Until finally Jack comes back after months, and brings Cas with him. He’s just standing there, in the bunker, in the library, right in front of Dean, looking as gorgeous as always, in his fucking trenchcoat, with a nervous smile on his face, looking straight into Dean’s eyes. Dean is frozen. He can vaguely hear Jack explain what exactly happened and why it took so long, but all Dean can think is ‘Cas. Cas is back. Cas is here. Cas. Cas. Cas.'

Dean hears Sam quietly usher Eileen and Jack out of the room, leaving Dean and Cas there, staring at each other. Dean can’t quite believe this is real. Finally, Cas speaks up:

“Hello, Dean.” is all he says, but it’s enough to make Dean crumble. He feels tears start falling down his cheeks, his feet take him to Cas, his hands grabbing the coat and bringing him closer, into a hug, then wrapping his arms around him. Dean suddenly feels like can breathe easily now, as if for the last few months he had this weight of grief and loss that suffocated him, and now it’s released. Cas hugs him back, and they just hold each other, and Dean is overcome with a flood of relief and so much love. His tears fall onto Cas’ trenchcoat, while his hands grip him tightly, still trying to make sure he’s really there. He finally says something, but it’s just Cas’ name, over and over, whispering, his voice shaking. He feels like he’s outside his body, it all seems surreal and unlike him. He just can’t keep it in. If it was anyone else, he’d be embarrassed, crying and showing so much emotion, but it’s Cas. It’s his Cas. Dean was sure he lost him for good this time, and now he’s back. After all, he always is, isn’t he?

“I can’t believe you’re here.” he whispers finally, pulling away only enough to look at Cas. He can look at him, because he’s back, he’s right here, and Dean’s looking at him and touching him and he can-

“Me neither.” Cas wipes Dean’s cheeks gently, their faces really close together. “Jack really struggled with this, dealing with the Empty is very hard and very annoying. But apparently being God has its perks.” he smiles.

“Cas.” Dean clears his throat, puts his palms on the sides of Cas’ face and looks him straight in the eyes. He has shit to say, and he needs to do it before he chickens out, like he always does. Not this time, though. He doesn’t exactly have a way with words, but he’ll try his best. He needs to say it all. His heart hammering against his chest loudly. He’s been through a lot and yet he’s never been more nervous than now. “I didn’t get to say it before, when- because you took me by surprise. So.” he takes a shaky breath, preparing to lay his heart on his sleeve for the first time ever. Cas’ hopeful eyes give him courage to do so. “I love you too, Cas. You can have me. You can have all of me, if you still want that. You-” His voice is quiet, barely a whisper, as he bears his soul. It’s a bit easier than he expected, given his inability to express his feelings, but it’s Cas. And Dean figures he’s made everything too difficult by now, he’ll say what he needs to say to assure Cas how he feels, to assure him that his feelings are reciprocated, he’d do anything. No matter how strange it feels coming out of his mouth. For once, he’ll be one hundred percent honest. “You’re my happiness. My everything. And without you, I don’t feel alive. I need you to stay, and never leave me again. If you’ll have me.” he finishes, not bothering to hide the desperation in his voice, his eyes miraculously stay on Cas’ during the whole speech. Cas is smiling widely now.

“Dean.” Cas brings his hand up to cup Dean’s cheek. Dean loves to hear his name out of Cas’ mouth again. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

“Yeah?” Dean can’t contain a wide, genuine smile that spreads on his face, and it feels so unfamiliar, he doesn’t remember the last time he smiled like that. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw Cas look this happy, either. The self-hating part of Dean wants to interject and ask Cas if he’s sure he wants him, if he’s sure he loves all of him – the good, the bad and the ugly. But he doesn’t, because he knows. He still can’t believe it and it will take him a while, maybe even his whole life, but at least he knows now.

“Of course. I told you already. I just never imagined that you’d want me, too.” he adds quietly, his thumb caresses Dean’s cheek gently, and Dean feels something like sparks of electricity where their skin touches.

“Well, I do. I want to-” he pauses, gathering his courage to say one more, unusual for him, cliche thing he means with all his heart. “I want to spend forever with you. Thoughts?” he adds with a teasing smile.

“I think that would be great. I’m in.” Cas grins.

“Good.” Dean leans in, looking into Cas’ eyes questioningly. Cas’ smile widens even more, if that’s even possible. Dean bumps his nose with his own playfully, before finally, finally, after years of repressing those feelings and actively forcing himself not to even acknowledge them, he finally kisses Cas. And it’s the sweetest, most tender kiss of Dean’s life. It starts out chaste, just lips against lips, before Cas opens his mouth, deepening it. It turned more intense and passionate, but still lazy and unrushed. They take their time just savoring this moment and learning each other this new way. They have all the time in the world now.

It takes a while before Dean pulls away, solely because he just wants to see Cas’ face again, look into those gorgeous eyes he thought he’d never see again. Cas beams at him, and Dean can’t decide what he wants more – to keep looking at him or to kiss him and never stop.

“You came back to me.” he finally whispers.

“Yeah. And I plan to stay right here forever.” Cas tightens his grip where his arms are wrapped around Dean now.

“Here here?” Dean asks, though he’s pretty sure he knows what Cas means. “Because I kinda thought we could maybe leave the bunker. Go somewhere nice and quiet and- I don’t know. It’s stupid.” he cuts off and feels his face heat up. Cas just came back, they don’t have to have this conversation now.

“It’s not stupid.” Cas brings his hand back to Dean’s face, and Dean melts against the touch. “Tell me.”

“I think I wanna stop hunting.” he admits it out loud for the first time. “Sammy and Eileen got it. I’ve been doing this my whole life. I’m fucking tired, man. I just- I just want a simple, normal, boring life. With you.” he says and sees that amazing smile on Cas’ face yet again. This is the first day he’s ever seen this smile, and it keeps showing up, and Dean wants to do everything for it to never disappear. “You game?”

“Yes.” Cas grins. “I would love nothing more than to live a normal, boring life with you.”

“Let’s do it then.” Dean says and he can’t believe how content and relieved he feels at the mere thought of that. Of just settling down, like he always wanted. Best of all, it’ll be with the man he loves the most in this world. He’s filled with so much love for him, he can’t help but say it again: “I love you. It took me way too long to finally say it, but now I’ll keep saying it, over and over, until you get sick of it.” he smiles. “I love you.”

“I love you, Dean.” Cas chuckles lightly. “And I’ll never get sick of hearing you say it.”

“Good.” he just says again, looking into his eyes for one more moment, before kissing him again. He knows they’re gonna have to join the rest of their family soon, talk about everything, they probably want to welcome Cas back, too. But for now Dean wants to be selfish and keep Cas to himself, in his arms, for a little while longer.

It’s crazy to think that just a few months ago, he quite literally didn’t have the will to live anymore, and now, in this moment, he feels more alive than he has in years. He finally feels like his life is properly starting now, on his terms, the way he wants and chooses, with the person he loves. With Cas. Dean can’t wait for forever with him.

Tag list: (tagging everyone from 50 ways and people who said they wanted to be tagged when I post destiel fics on my last 50 ways post a year ago lol sorry if you don't wanna be tagged, just tell me haha)

@proudcasgirl @im-sam-fucking-winchester @nguyenxtrang @manifestingdestiel @enchantinghairdoherringwombat @somethings-are-meant-tobe @cherry-cheshire

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