And Then I Found You

Chapter 7

It was two days later, the day before Dean's birthday, and his coronation, and he was more miserable than ever. His father had informed him that he would be announcing his engagement to Lady Lisa Braden in the morning. And Dean had resigned himself to his fate, much to his brother's dismay.

Sam had urged Dean to fight for Castiel. To go to him, to talk to him, to try and explain. To talk to their father. But Dean couldn't. It was hopeless, he knew. He knew better than to think that Castiel would listen, that he would forgive him. That he would love him.

And he was a coward. He knew that too. He was too afraid to tell his father the truth. To tell his father that since he was fourteen years old he'd known he was gay. That he'd never bee interested in girls. That he never would be. He knew Lisa. She was kind, and pretty, but he didn't love her, and he never would. Still, she had agreed to the arrangement, with no knowledge that her future husband would have no sexual desire for her whatsoever.

And once again Dean felt ashamed, and guilty, and like no matter what he did he was letting someone down. That he could never truly be himself. And it was suffocating him.

But he couldn't tell his father. John would never accept that he had a gay son. And the Kingdom would never accept that they had a gay Prince. So his entire life, just like the past three weeks with Castiel, would be one giant lie.

He looked out his bedroom window, watching the rain, and tried not to think of sapphire eyes, and thick chapped lips brushing against his, and rough, strong hands cupping his face gently.

He tried not to think of how it would feel to fall asleep next to Castiel every night, and to wake up next to him every morning. To run his fingers through Castiel's thick, dark hair, the other man's head resting on his shoulder or on his chest, Dean's arms wrapped around him, holding him close. Tried not to think about how it would feel for Castiel to stroke his cheek softly and say, "Good morning, Dean," in his deep, gravely voice.

And he wiped away the tear that slid down his cheek as he heard a knock on the door.

"Come in," he said.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Sire," one of the servants said, poking their head in. "But there's a young woman at the gate begging to speak with you."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows and scooted out of his bed. He didn't know any young women. "Who is it?" he asked.

"She says her name is Anna," the servant said, sounding perplexed. "She said she's the sister of someone named Castiel."

Dean almost knocked the servant over in his rush to get out the door.

He insisted that the guards let Anna inside. It was pouring rain out after all and the young woman was soaked. She was shivering violently as she spoke to him, her teeth chattering. He wasn't sure if it was the cold or her nerves that were causing her to tremble.

"You are Castiel's sister?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm sorry to bother you, Your Highness," she said, when they were speaking in private, "but my brother . . . I didn't know what else to do. He's . . ."

Dean's stomach dropped when he saw the tears filling Anna's eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "What is it? Is Castiel okay?"

Anna shook her head. "I don't think so," she said, sobbing now.

And Dean's heart rate spiked. "What do you mean?" he asked, stepping closer to her. "What happened?"

"I know you don't want anyone to know about you and my brother, Sire," Anna said carefully. "But, I just wanted to tell you that he's been happier these last three weeks than I've ever seen him before. And I know now that that was because of you. The rest of the Kingdom believes my brother was throwing himself at you, that you didn't return his affections, and he's pretty much been outcast for it . . ."

Dean swallowed. He stepped closer still and rested his hands on Anna's shoulders, looking into her tear filled eyes. "Anna, what happened?" he said again.

"My mother," Anna stammered. "She sold him to Bartholomew."

Dean stepped back, his eyes wide. His chest rose and fell, and he sat, unable to comprehend what Anna had just told him.

"No," he said, burying his face in his hands. "No." He'd messed up so royally. It wasn't bad enough that he'd lied to Castiel and led him on, but now Castiel was being forced to serve a man he despised because of Dean. Because Dean was unwilling to admit who he was, to admit his feelings for Castiel. Castiel had taken the brunt of all of his mistakes.

Damn he was such a coward.

"Sire, please, you have to help him," Anna pleaded.

"I don't know what I can do," Dean said, helplessly, looking up.

Anna stepped closer, her eyes earnest. "I'm probably speaking out of turn here, Your Highness, but, do you love my brother?"

Dean couldn't hide the look of shock on his face at the girl's bluntness. But he found himself nodding.

"Yes," he said, and he felt years of heartache and pain, and inner turmoil unraveling inside of him at that simple acknowledgment. Yes. He loved Castiel.

Anna smiled. "Then show him," she said.

And a moment later, Dean was standing in the throne room, trembling, Sam by his side, supporting him like he always did. Because Dean was finally going to tell his father the truth.