“please don’t leave me.” for the anon, end!destiel angst
Castiel stared at his fingers. They were soft, softer than they should be since his fingers had life in them. They should be roughed and lined, there should be dirt under the nails, scars on the palms and callus on their tips. But they were soft.
He wished he could fight, use them to do something, to help, rough up those hands with anything. But he couldn’t because he had no orders. First, he used to serve heaven and its orders without thinking. Now, he did the same for Dean. Dean was a harsh man sometimes, especially in the last few years, where the rests of his happy self disappeared.
Castiel knew that with it, his own grace had been gone. He’d never told Dean, but his happiness, his glowing soul, the hope in his heart was what kept Castiel from becoming fully, undoubtedly human. And when Dean turned into the stone, cold-blooded fighter he was today, Castiel turned into the human, meditating fool he woke up as every single morning. It wasn’t that he forgot himself or how he used to be- but he couldn’t stay like that when everything else around him changed. When Dean, his tower of strength, his last gleam of hope, changed, there was no reason for Castiel not to.
So he laughed humorlessly, talked about love and peace on earth in which he couldn’t believe in himself, had orgies with girls he couldn’t sense the souls of, smoked until he was high and thought he felt his wings, and cried when there was no one to hear him.
But when Dean showed up, he showed none of that. He would do whatever he could, whatever he had to do, to please him. There was only one thing that had positively changed over the years. His love for Dean never died. He wasn’t sure if it was the old Dean or the new Dean he craved at night, but when Dean went up to him in the middle of the night and slipped down at his side, his naked body cold against Castiel’s, he took him, warmed him up until Dean’s skin was sweaty and his breath quick and desperate and they grabbed onto each other harsh and painful until both of them were coming, sometimes quiet, sometimes muffling their sounds into each other’s skin and whispering their names until they had calmed down.
It was everything to Cas, waking up the next day and watching Dean’s face screwed up in a frown, snoring softly. He would kiss his forehead in the hope of taking away Dean’s problems, but they never seemed to leave.
Castiel was awake. He didn’t want to sleep- not yet, it was too early and he was hoping Dean would come tonight. He hadn’t been there the two nights before. Cas had missed him. He lit another candle and blew at the match, stretched, popping his muscles. His mind wandered off to the idea of getting high if Dean wouldn’t show up- but then he heard a sound from his door.
“Hey.” Dean always said it like that. Soft, gentle. It reminded Cas painfully of the way Dean used to be. But Dean had changed and he knew like no one else.
“Dean,” Castiel said, not turning around. His fingers slid slowly through the dust on the nightstand. “How have you been?”
“Like normal,” Dean answered as he got inside further. “The usual problems. Chuck mentioned we’re running out of bullets, so we’ll have to get some more in a few weeks, days maybe even.” He was quiet for a moment. “You? How are things here?”
It always went like this. Dean asked Cas how he was, what he had done, pretending to care, pretending to be interested in Castiel… Normally, Cas pushed that away and was happy with pretending, but tonight, Cas’ thoughts had wandered to the wrong places.
“Not important,” he sighed and turned, faking a smile. “So why waste any time on… how I feel?” He stepped towards Dean, kissed him without waiting for a reply. He wanted Dean to go with it so they could ignore whatever they were feeling, but Dean pushed him away.
“What?” He asked. “Cas, why are you like this?”
“Like what?” Cas asked, tilting his head. “Needy?”
“I’m not.” He leaned in again, tasting Dean’s lips slowly. “Just missed you.” His hands wandered over Dean’s chest.
Dean seemed to go with it and Cas hoped he’d let it go, but as Dean started undressing him, he spoke again.
“There’s more,” Dean hummed. “I know you. But fine, if you don’t wanna talk, not gonna force you. Not now.” Cas kissed him rougher, pushing him against the wall. He really didn’t want to talk right now.
It wasn’t much later that they lay next to each other, half an hour at the very most. Dean’s arm was under Castiel’s head, but neither of them spoke. Cas had his eyes closed, breathing in Dean’s scent of earth and gunpowder.
“Yeah?” Cas opened his eyes and looked at Dean.
“What’s bothering you?”
Cas didn’t answer, not sure what to say. “Because, you know, if there’s something I could…”
“You can’t,” Cas said way too fast. “What would there be?”
“Alright.” Dean sighed and started to get up. “I can leave you alone, if you-”
“No.” Cas grabbed his arm, pulling him back, feeling desperate to have him next to him. “Please, don’t leave me.”
Dean turned to face him.
“I won’t.” He lay back down with Cas and stroke a lock of hair from his forehead.
Castiel didn’t know why exactly, but suddenly he felt tears in his eyes and blinking them away didn’t help. He knew Dean saw it, too, but didn’t mention it.
“Do you remember us?” He asked. “I mean… How we used to be?”
“I remember how you used to be.” Dean lay down again, his hand finding Castiel’s. He never held his hand, or stroke hair from his face, and Cas was confused by the sudden acts. But he gripped on Dean’s hand.
“I remember you,” Cas mumbled. “And I miss you.”
They found each other’s glance and stared.
“I miss you, too.”
Castiel swallowed. He still tried to blink away the tears, but they only seem to get worse.
“Why did you ask, Dean? You shouldn’t care, y’know. it’s just me.”
Dean gripped his hand more and pushed himself on his elbow to look at Cas.
“But I do,” Dean blurted, biting his lip. “I care- too much, it’s dangerous and I shouldn’t because you… I can’t… If I care like this and I lose you, I won’t…-”
Cas cut him off with a kiss. He tasted one of his own salty tears but he kissed until both of them were out of breath.
“You’re not losing me, Dean. Wherever we’re going, whatever we do, whoever we are, I’m right next to you.”
“We’re a mess, we both know that, but that can’t keep us from fighting for… this. Us.”
“It won’t.” Dean kissed him again. Castiel couldn’t remember if he ever kissed him this caring and sweet and he fell for him all over again.
They fell asleep late, listening to each other’s breathing. They weren’t okay, with more problems than they could handle and half of the person they used to be, once. But together, they had found a thing worth fighting for.