dean’s tenderly dabbing a cotton pad against the cut on cas’ temple when he realizes it. it’s not a totally new feeling. he’s always known that he loved castiel as a friend and a member of their little patchwork family, but this - this is different. he’s in love with cas. he’s not exactly sure how long he’s been in love with him, or when things changed between them, but sitting here with someone who’s given up so much - his grace, his wings, god damn immortality - to sit on a ratty mattress after getting his ass thrown around by a rougarou and smiling fondly at dean like he hung the moon, dean’s not sure he cares when it changed. all he cares about is finally stowing his crap and kissing the small smile on cas’ lips.
I’m on the road but I saw people freaking out about injuries and I’m like oh shit but then I see this and then I breathe a little easier BUT THEN A) WHAT THE FUCK WHY IS EVERYONE ELSE HURT B) HOW STRONG CAN CHICAGO’S DARK VOODOO MAGIC GET