Uncle Cas

All of our bridges burnt down

All of our bridges burnt down

Castiel was really sad to say that he hadn't gotten through to Dean before he had had to leave. Even now, the day after, he thought about it. About talking to the closed door, too nervous to open it without the boy's permission.

He sighed where he sat on his couch, eating a bowl of soggy cereal in an apartment that smelled like sex even an hour after his one night stand had left. It had been the right thing to do though: leave. He had needed the break from the Winchesters to get into his own mindset. So why was he already missing them?

He looked listlessly at the pile of work folders that lay in a heap on his kitchen counter and sighed again. He loved his job but right now it didn't seem... important. He rubbed his eyes and spooned down the last of the milk, deciding to get at least some work done before he headed back to the house and to try to talk to Dean again.

Just as he set the bowl on his coffee table he heard keys in the front door's lock and stilled. There was only one other person that had a spare key so he wasn't the least surprised to see John open and close the door.

"Hiya." John mumbled and pocketed his keys.

"Hi John." Castiel answered and didn't bother to close his robe, instead opting to lean back on the couch. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

John shifted and then apparently decided to step further into the combined space of kitchen/living room/entrance of Castiel's small apartment.

"It's lunch." He answered and sat down on the other end of the couch.

"Still." Castiel mumbled and refused to acknowledge that he hadn't known what time it was. Christ, had his lay really stayed that long? Granted, it had been a beautiful man and they had had fun both yesterday night and this morning but still.

John shrugged. "Bobby won't miss me. I just came over to see how you were doing." He wasn't looking at Castiel and it made Castiel squint his eyes in suspicion.

"Very well thank you." He answered and had no illusion about John not being able to smell what had transpired on this very couch just a couple of hours ago.

John nodded a little. "Dean came out of his room after you left."

"Good." Why did that statement hurt?

"I think he's sorry." John chuckled but it sounded joyless and it grated on Castiel's mind. "I didn't think the pre-teens would come so soon."

"Why are you really here John?"

"What do you mean?"

Castiel sighed heavily. "Don't mess with me, I have a ton of work to do and a bad hangover, I'm not in the mood to play games with you."

"I'm not playing." John sounded angry now and Castiel thought that was good. Better angry than sad.

"Then why would you say something like that?" Castiel asked calmly, despite feeling like screaming, and trusting completely that John would understand what he was talking about.

Castiel was torn. He didn't want to talk about this. He wanted to talk about this. He just didn't know. John was confusing him and even more so now that they were alone, in Castiel safe-space. Better to just get it over with, rip the Band-Aid and take the burn.

"I just..." John looked down at his hands, clearly catching on. "I just miss you."

Somehow getting the confirmation made everything worse, so much worse.

"You don't get to say that." He grit out and John looked at him with surprised eyes. "You can't say that to me now, after all these years."

"Cas..."

"No John." Castiel stood up and moved to stand on the other side of the kitchen counter, feeling better with some space between them. "You had me John, you had all of me but I wasn't enough, I was... wasn't..." he stopped, leaning against the counter and hiding his face by ducking his head, shamed by the tears that hobbled his speech. He heard John moving towards him.

"Cas, I'm sorry."

He felt a hand on his shoulder but slapped it away, angrily facing John. "No, you know what? To hell with your excuses. You decided that you didn't need me the day you chose Mary over me. You got her pregnant and you chose her and I stepped down because I loved you and I wanted you to be happy but it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do." He slapped away John's hand again when the other man reached for him again. "You killed a part of me John." He spat out and took ridiculous satisfaction in John's scared face. "So don't you dare come to me now and talk about regret. Don't you dare tell me I made that sacrifice for nothing, you have no right."

When he was finished he was breathing heavily and he was angrier than he had ever felt. So much for repressing his feelings with meaningless sex.

"You're right Cas." John said eventually. He at least had the grace to look Castiel in the eye the entire time, Castiel would give him that. "You're right and I'm a coward. I..."

Castiel pressed his lips together in a thin line when John stopped talking.

"I think you should leave." He hissed when the silence had continued for too long.

John just nodded and walked to the door. Castiel didn't even turn around to watch him leave.

"Do you..." John cleared his throat and Castiel closed his eyes to steady himself. "Do you want the key back?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

Castiel supposed John nodded but he didn't turn around to look at his friend.

"Are you coming for dinner? The boys will... we'll miss you."

It was cheap, Castiel thought, to use the boys against him when John knew how he loved them but at least he had tried to save face and Castiel hadn't ever been able to say no to Sam and Dean.

"Tomorrow." He answered curtly because even if nothing of this had ever happened that still would have been the truth.

"Okay."

And just like that he left and Castiel knew that was supposed to be it. They were supposed to be over their ten-year crisis now because they had decided. The agreement was that they would be friends but the underlying statement was that they really couldn't live without each other. Because really, when John had agreed to dump Castiel for Mary, what had stopped Castiel from just ditching Lawrence altogether and move far away? God knows he spent enough time in LA with his work to call it his second home. But he couldn't because they had decided. And because they had needed. And Castiel still needed and he would be damned if he let John fucking Winchester take that away from him by being a coward.

He sat down on the couch again, his heavy head in his hands.

This is my fault, he thought despairingly. I let this happen. A belief that would haunt him forever.