~ And the fick is done ~
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
"She'll feel it," assured Cas, when this time he was the one crouching next to him, checking Dean's condition. They treated him like a child. Rightly so, in fact. "She'll come."
Dean at the dal didn't quite understand everything. But if this time it was enough to summon and defeat the enemy, then maybe they were finally on the right track. They were all exhausted, in bloody clothes, babysitting to Dean going out of his mind, yet closer to winning. Somehow.
Dean tightened the cord once again, making a knot to support the structure. He put the stick aside.
After a quick inspection of his surroundings - Sam had disappeared into an adjacent room, they were alone - he found the angel's gaze. The blue eyes stared at him with care. Not concern, not reprimand, not pity. Only care that came from sincere affection.
With a frozen hand, he reached for the angelic one that lined up so perfectly with his own. He held back the anger boiling under his skin and sighed more deeply.
"Cas… I'm seriously losing it. And I trust you, I do, buddy."
"Buddy," the angel repeated, and the glow emanating from him seemed to dim.
"Sunshine," corrected Dean. "Sweetheart. Darling… love." Each successive word fell quieter, yet it did not lose its power. On the contrary. Each successive one made him all the more certain. "I'm endlessly stupid. You know it. And that's not gonna change. But I need you to know… That I care, Cas. I fucking care so much."
"Dean, it's not time…"
