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Socks left on the floor, spending obscene amounts of time cleaning the Impala, drinking a little too much, eating pie as a meal replacement, being grumpier than Castiel if woken up too early. Yet, everyone thought Cas was the grumpy, non-morning person, unable to go three minutes without some obscure reference, mostly avoiding using his words to share his feelings.
Yeah, Dean could list his flaws just as easily as anyone who could psychoanalyze his choices and decisions.
And well, with the world slowing down, Jack as God, and semi-retirement, he's had plenty of time alone for enough self-reflection for even Dean to be able to really see what was messed up with him. No amount of time reflecting on his flaws, though, led to anything changing. Cas was still gone, Dean was still alone, and he just didn't know how to go one like this.
There was a hole in his chest. No deeper than that, his soul. As cheesy as that made him sound, Cas being gone felt like a constant aching hole in the depths of his soul. He lost count of the nights he didn't fall asleep as much as blacked out from his straight from the bottle drinking.
Shifting slowly to his side, almost going into a fetal position, his thoughts remained on Cas. If only Cas could see him now. Would he even recognize me? Would he still feel the same? Would he say the things he did before he left again?
Dean could feel tears falling down his cheek onto his pillow, but he didn't wipe them away. At this point, there wasn't any telling when the crying would hit. Some days he felt so numb he didn't think he would ever feel again. Maybe today's the day I don't wake up. Some days he felt so angry, the feelings flashing hot and sharp like lightning through him. What gave him the right to think he could say those things then- to think Dean didn't feel the same as him? And then leave!
He couldn't decide which days were better. He pulled his duvet covers tighter around him, trying to get his mind, or at least his body, to rest. He breathed in deeply, held it for a moment, then slowly released his breath. Closing his eyes, he tried to keep his mind blank, but it wasn't working. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was the tan splash of a trenchcoat, black windblown hair, and deep ocean blue eyes filled with love despite being filled with tears. Dean didn't want to think of that night, so he forced himself to think of different memories.
We'll make it up as we go. I think I feel something. I'll always be there when you call. That's not true. I was being bad cop. You asked what about all this was real? We are. Years of moments building and building up into the love Dean could never say aloud. Castiel deserved someone who would shout it from the rooftops. Dean couldn't even whisper it to himself. The enormity of his feelings overwhelmed him. How Cas could ever feel the same about him was laughable.
Until it wasn't until Cas confessed his feelings. Thinking he couldn't have what he wanted. Because Dean couldn't find the courage and say how he felt. Has felt it for longer than he could remember. But he knew how he felt. He knew what the feeling was. It was something he never had with anyone, not this deeply. There were others he cared for and loved in their own way, but with Castiel, it was profound. It was terrifying, the depth of his feelings for his best friend.
And he didn't want to ruin what he had. He didn't want to ask for more than he deserved. But he could have, Cas made it clear he could have crossed that line, and it would have been fine; it would have been wanted. He thinks of those blue, blue eyes and imagines them shining with laughter, crinkles at the sides, happy. Dean likes to believe that those moments meant as much to Cas as they did to Dean.
Dean doesn't fall back asleep, just stays in that weird limbo of almost asleep but almost awake. He knows it's getting to be time to get out of bed. Pretending like he slept through the night and that he's not seven layers of hungover and exhausted.
He steadies his breathing, lets the tears fall, and falls into his memories, any positive one he can remember keeping him company in the early hours. He's broken out of his limbo when the door to his room slams open, hitting the wall in its force.
"Dean. Dean! You have to get up it's important. You need to come see this!" Sam all but yells as he walks to the bed and rips the duvet off of Dean.
"Sam, just go." Dean can't do this. "I don't care."
Sam pulls at his arms getting him into a sitting-up position, even if it's a little slumped.
"No Dean I mean it. Jack showed up but wasn't making sense. He was pacing and talking to himself. He started talking about getting him back, and how both the pain your soul was pushing into the cosmos and the lack of emotion from Cas' soul was too much." Sam sounded out of breath.
"Jack finally stopped and just told me, "I'm going to get him back." And he just kind of froze in place. He's in the war room." Dean slowly sat up, looking at Sam's earnest expression.
"Dean, Jack is getting Cas back. For us. For you." Dean swung his legs off the side of the bed, his heart racing in his chest. He doesn't even change or think too much about it. Just moves quickly to leave his room out into the main area of the bunker. He doesn't want to let the hope out, the small part of himself that continuously wanted to be freed. He'd all but drowned it with his binging, but it was still there. Crawling out to see the light.
Dean was in the war room before he could really think about it. Jack was still there, frozen in place. "Jack, are you okay?"
Jack didn't move, and his eyes didn't open, but he responded, "I needed to get him back. It didn't feel right not having him here. I didn't want to interfere more than necessary but everything was wrong without him. I miss him more, and I know you do too."
Dean could feel his face warm up but didn't deny how right Jack was. "But Jack this can't be safe, he would never have wanted you to put yourself at risk for him."
Jack finally opened his eyes to look at Dean, and once again, the similarities between him and Castiel were hard to ignore. "I am God. If I can't do this one thing without messing up then I shouldn't have this power. This will be my last alteration, and then I will continue to be hands-off."
Dean could feel the hope wrap around him like vines on a trellis, squeezing his heart. "If you're sure you aren't putting yourself at risk then I am all in for your idea."
Jack closed his eyes again, "I just need to concentrate. Once I find him then I'll open the veil to the Empty. I'll get him out for us."
Jack continued to stand in place, and it could have been minutes. It could have been hours. Time meant nothing to Dean as he watched their kid work to find Cas.
Finally, Jack's eyes opened, but they shone bright with grace. Dean had to shield his face from the light. "I found him," Jack said, his voice deepened with power. "I am going to go in for him. Wait here."
The swarming tendrils of black goo showed themselves against the wall, and Jack took a few steps towards it, then stepped through the wall into the Empty. The black goo disappeared after Jack's form was through.
Dean could feel himself holding his breath. This wasn't how he expected today to go. It wasn't how he expected the rescue to go if they could figure it out. Jack deciding to be hands-on was probably the best route this could have taken short of Dean offering his soul again for Cas' return.
Dean didn't know what to do. The longer it took Jack to return, the more he panicked about what would happen. He didn't even get the chance to take a shower. He knew he looked like death warmed over. Actually, death probably looked better than he did right now. But he couldn't bring himself to leave the war room. Sam sat at the table, not saying a word, but Dean wasn't up for much conversation right now. He was strung too tight, waiting for Jack's arrival back, hopefully with one dark-haired angel in tow.
Dean finally sat down in a seat next to Sam. Crossing his arms on the table, he laid his head down on the makeshift pillow. How much longer would this take? Obviously, he would wait hours if it was necessary, but the idea that Cas would be there in front of him. Physically for the first time in months. It was too much for Dean to handle.
What would he say first? Would Cas even want to talk to him, want him close? Dean knew he wouldn't want to part with Cas once he was back, but would he be smothering Cas if he didn't give him space. Dean's mind was racing, and the wait was making it worse for his poor mind.
His thoughts continued to spin, but then he heard it. The same noise that lingered with the memories of Cas' confession, his dying. The black goo returned, opening into a portal again, and Jack fell through. Cas' body leaning heavily on his, they both were sprawled on the ground in front of the wall. The portal closed behind them, with a sense of finality that Dean really wished meant this was over.
He launched himself out of the chair, seeing Cas there was more than he could bear, and he threw himself at Cas, who just sitting there next to Jack. Before he could think about it, before he could stop himself, his arms were wrapped around Cas's neck, bringing the man into his embrace. All but strangling him with the flood of emotions flowing through him at seeing Cas back with them.
He had so much to say, but all that came out of his mouth was Cas' name. A repeated litany of Cas, Cas, Cas. He could feel the hot tears falling down his face. He held on tighter. Initially, Cas froze at his embrace, but he could feel Cas relaxing as he wrapped his arms around Dean. It felt like the weight that was holding him down these last months all but disappeared, but it was difficult to catch his breath.
"Dean. It's okay. Breathe." Dean felt the sobs being torn from him. He couldn't stop them. It felt like he was dying himself.
Cas shifted as if to move away from Dean, and he couldn't let that happen. "No don't leave again. Stay. Stay here. With me." Dean tightened his hold on Cas, his body unwilling to let any space separate them.
"I'm not going anywhere Dean. I promise you Jack got me back. No force will be strong enough to keep me from my family now."
Dean knew he wasn't acting like he usually did. But the thought of Cas not being there with him was too much to handle. They stayed like that for a while. It couldn't have been long. Sam and Jack stayed, but it was long enough that when Dean was finally able to unwrap his arms around Cas' neck, he felt the heat warm his face. But he could now look at Cas' face.
For the first time in months, he was able to look into the deep blue eyes he missed more than he ever did before.
"I love you too. You complete asshole." Dean breathed out; it wasn't what he thought he was going to say, but he couldn't hold it in anymore. "You said you wanted something you couldn't have. But you idiot, you can have it. You can. Just don't die on me again."
Cas' tired eyes brightened, the bags were still there, showing his exhaustion, but he looked radiant after hearing Dean's words.
"I don't appreciate you calling me an idiot. It worked; we saved the world. You did what you had to do. But I'll try not to die anymore." His gravelly voice replied, and Dean couldn't stay this far away any longer. He threw himself back into Cas' arms, burying his face in Cas' neck.
Cas rubbed his hands over Dean's back as if soothing a child, and it felt so good that Dean didn't care what was happening around him. Not when Cas was physically here in Dean's presence. He let Cas talk with Sam and Jack while still holding Dean. He didn't catch a word of their conversation. This didn't solve everything. Dean and Cas still had so much they needed to talk about, but right now, Dean could care less about what they should do. He just let himself breathe in Cas' ozone scent and take in the warmth from his body while everyone talked around him. There would be time to talk later.
Right now, with Cas' hands still rubbing soothing circles on his back, Dean was exactly where he needed to be.