Coda to 12x23 based on this scene.
The door opens with a creak, drawing Castiel’s attention from his hands. They have been mindlessly picking at a loose thread on his trench for however long he’s been sitting here. Dean enters, that same distracted, tired look on his face that’s present much too often nowadays. It takes a moment for Dean to realize he’s not alone in his room - that Castiel is sitting on the edge of his bed.
Dean sighs, a quiet thing that makes his shoulders slouch as if the weight of the world was set upon them.
“You’re avoiding me.” It’s blunt, Castiel realizes. It’s the end of a long day, another hunt come and gone, and he knows Dean’s tired. But he’s come to his end with trying to get Dean to talk to him or even look at him. Something has been wrong ever since he came back. Sam seems perfectly fine; welcoming Castiel back with friendly smiles and conversation outside of working a case. Dean’s another story, though. Whenever Castiel walks into a room, Dean leaves. When they brush past each other in the kitchen, Dean flinches as if burned. There’s hardly any talking. Next to no eye contact. The times Castiel tries too hard to pull more than a few words out of Dean, it only results in a snippy remark. But Castiel can’t stand this wall that’s been built between them any longer.
When Dean doesn’t say anything, Castiel gets to his feet and approaches him.
“You and Sam are all I have. There’s no one else. So the way you’ve been brushing me off, snapping at me, just –” Castiel huffs a breath, feeling himself getting worked up. “Look, I don’t know what you’re so angry at or scared of and I can’t, for the life of me, figure it out because you’re avoiding me. But I’m scared too, Dean. I can’t deal with what happened alone and – and if you’re – if you won’t –” Castiel cuts himself off, words failing him inelegantly. “Please, Dean, I need…”
Castiel begins to reach out to put his hand on Dean’s shoulder just to be able to ground himself, but Dean’s hand flashes up to stop him from going any farther. Castiel glances at their contact, the grip on his wrist a little too tight, before he looks back into Dean’s troubled eyes.
“You died.” The words are soft. Then, as if saying them triggered something, anger builds within Dean’s expression, his voice becoming louder. “You died. You fucking died and I then I had to see you with your wings burned into the damn ground.”
Castiel’s rendered speechless, unable to do anything but stare into those heated green eyes.
“You wanna know what I’m scared of? I’m scared of everything, Cas! I’m scared to move, I’m scared to – to breathe. I’m scared to touch you,” Dean yells, a pain resonating underneath the anger. Emotion is making it hard for Castiel to take even the smallest of breaths. Then, in a gentler voice, Dean continues.
“I can’t lose you, do you understand that? I’ve already seen you – I’ve seen you die too many times, and it’s getting harder and harder to survive after that.” Dean drops Castiel’s wrist to point accusingly at him, the intensity returning to his eyes. Their faces are too close now, but Castiel doesn’t dare back away. “And that’s your fault, Castiel. You – you made me love you, you made me let you in. And then you fucking died in front of me!”
Castiel swallows thickly. Dean loves him.
He waits for Dean to continue, but it seems all the words have been drained out of him. Castiel takes a small step forward, setting his hand on the side of Dean’s face, a pang of – of something hurting him when Dean leans into the touch and closes his eyes. Castiel closes the space between them to press a soft kiss to Dean’s lips. It’s a second later that he realizes what he’s doing, and he’s about to pull back and apologize when Dean presses back, returning the kiss. Castiel feels wetness collide along the hand on Dean’s cheek. Despite Dean’s anger, the kiss is gentle and tender with only a hint of desperation taking form in the way his hands fist themselves into Castiel’s trench to pull him closer. In all the times Castiel’s imagined kissing Dean would be like, this was never one of them.
Castiel breaks the kiss after a moment, entirely overwhelmed by the past sixty seconds, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans his forehead against Dean’s as they breathe together, Dean’s a little heavier as more tears slip down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” Castiel whispers.
Dean breathes out a shaky breath. “I know.”
This time it’s Dean who connects their lips together in another kiss, one that tastes of tears and longing, before he’s wrapping Castiel into a tight embrace and his breath tickles the side of his neck. Castiel brings his arms to wrap around Dean’s neck, clutching tight to his shoulders. He’s not sure he’ll ever be ready to let go, but for now, this is the extent of Castiel’s world. No words need to be said anymore. This is all that matters.
