Destiel Oneshots

Love of My Life {Destiel}

Fix it Fix, where they save Cas from the empty! (also thank you so much for the comments  that I don't get the time to reply to! I really  appreciate them, and all the votes! I hope you're all having a good weekend!)

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They were supposed to be okay, everything was supposed to be okay after they saved Cas. That's how it'd worked every other time he came back, no matter how bad life spiralled around them, no matter who else they'd lost, no matter what big bad they were facing; Cas would come back and it was as if Dean had breathed for the first time. Cas returning had always been his moment of hope, the reminder that no matter what happened, no matter who left him, the angel would always be there.

This time it's different. The pain can almost be felt lingering through the bunker, there's days where it becomes so thick, so evident, Dean finds even himself suffocating. Cas is there. Everything should be okay. But Cas isn't really there. He doesn't leave Dean's bed, he doesn't talk. It'd taken weeks for him to even make a noise, and when he did, it was almost worse than the silence.

It happened one night a few weeks after they'd saved him from the empty, and a few days after Dean had accepted that something was truly wrong with Cas. That he wasn't just shocked, or healing from the cut across his neck, but something that none of them could explain and Cas refused to explain. They'd both been in Dean's bed, Cas asleep and Dean staring at the roof, inches of space between them the way it was every night; Dean had never found the strength to reach out and Cas had never shown any desire for Dean to.

The room had been silent.

Only their shallow breaths filling it, until all at once the screaming began.

It had torn the breath from Dean's lungs, the heartbreak soon replacing it as Cas's screams had become choked sobs. The kind so similar to Dean's own after he'd returned from hell, endlessly filled with pain, as if you were drowning in it, unable to feel anything else. So desperate for even a moment of relief. So broken it could barely be considered human.

Dean had reached out, and for the first time filled the space between them. He pulled the other closer and held on as Cas sobbed into his chest, Dean's own voice feeling raw as he whispered promises, that Cas was safe, that nothing was going to happen, that he was going to be okay. Though the last one Dean wasn't even sure he believed.

From there things went from bad to worse. The times Dean managed to get Cas to eat became fewer, and the nightmares became more frequent, and in the midst of it all Dean's hope slowly crumbled. It's months later he finally breaks, when the weight of the pain finally crushes him and he has no other option than to cry or scream. Unfortunately, screaming had always been easier than the former.

"You know we could of really used you out there," Dean grumbled as he unzipped his duffle bag and began pulling his clothing from it. No matter how aggressive each moment was it did nothing to calm the adrenaline that still raced his heart from their failed hunt. He could still feel the women's blood against his clean hands. See the fear across her face. Hear her screams filling the silence that Cas had failed to break. "Or Eileen, but she was too busy playing babysitter for you."

Dean placed the gun onto his dresser with a loud thud that did nothing to calm his rising frustration before turning back to their bed where Cas was still sat, staring into his lap. He looked just as sick as when Dean had left, and whether that was reassuring or not, he wasn't sure. His skin pale, even the thin material of the led zeppelin shirt he wore seeming to way down his shoulders. The only progress that had been made since Dean had saved him was the cut across his neck that had healed into a pale scar.

"Comeon man," Dean insisted, stepping closer. Even with his heavy footsteps Cas didn't look up. "You can't just keep sitting here, you gotta start taking care of yourself."

He stopped at the edge of the bed. "If you can't do it for yourself do it for us. Sam needs you. Elieen needs you. Jack needs you. I-" Dean tightened his jaw, clenching his fists at his sides. "I didn't save you just for you to kill yourself, you son of a bitch."

"Seriously man," Dean insisted, his voice raising, the adrenaline boiling in his chest, "You know how long we spent looking for you? How many fuck ups we made? How many times we were goin to give up." His whole skin burned, the months of pain overflowing as he quickly began screaming at the other, anything to fight off his own forming tears. Anything to get Cas to reply.

"Fuck you!" Dean screamed, "fuck you, you selfish son of a bitch! Fuck you, fuck you!" Dean squeezed his eyes shut forcing himself to take a breath before he opened them again, still Cas looked down, his face casted in shadows from the dim lighting, the blankets thrown over his lap.

"You don't know how much it hurt," Dean finally whispered, his voice raw, the pain raw. "Watching you die. Every time was worse than the last, and every time I swore it wasn't going to happen again," Dean continued, "but every time- Cas I can't do it again, please man."

Finally Cas looked up, and Dean inhaled. Most days there was a distant look to Cas's eyes but now they were filled with nothing but pain, glossed over and rimmed red. Dean almost wished Cas kept his head down.

Slowly Cas raised a hand and with the same cautious movements brought it to Dean's cheek where he had a cut from the hunt. At first his fingers only grazed his skin, as if expecting Dean to pull away, but when he didn't Cas touched the cut again, this time trailing it softly.

Dean watched, as if any movement would cause Cas to stop. He watched as Cas's eyebrows knit together, as the pained expression across his face became distress, as his lips pressed together, and as the first tear rolled down his cheek.

"Might be getting too old for this," Dean half joked, "I'm gettin' sloppy."

Cas's hand dropped and without knowing why Dean reached forward, taking Cas's hand in his own. It had been as natural as when they'd first saved him and Dean had brought him into his own room rather than the infirmary, or when Dean had given Cas his t-shirts and sweats to wear, or anything else that had happened between them since the empty.

This though, was by far the most gentle thing to happen.

So careless and tender Dean could almost pretend everything was okay.

"Cas," Dean whispered, slowly he sat down on the edge of their bed, adjusting his grip so they were always holding hands. "I'm tired of watching you do this to yourself. I know you're new to the whole being human thing but- man, you've gotta start trying."

Cas looked down to their hands and Dean didn't continue. He had nothing else to say, nothing else to do. Part of him wanted to keep screaming, throw something to give him relief from the bubbling emotions, yet he was too tired. Any fight he had left gone.

He just wanted Cas.

"Cas-"

"Dean."

Dean's lips parted. Cas's voice was raspier than he remembered, and the word had barely been even a whisper but still Dean found himself unable to reply. Lost for words, as he glanced across Cas's pained expression that still rested on their hands.

"I-" Cas continued, slowly and quietly, as if each breath brought him pain. "I was not made to be human."

"I know," Dean said, when Cas didn't continue, "but it was either human or the empty, didn't seem like that hard of a choice."

Cas squeezed his eyes shut and it was before his grip around Dean's hand even loosened that Dean could feel the shift in the room. The hairs on his arms rising as even the temperature had dropped to match the sudden dread, the guilt, the pain, the words that hadn't been spoken yet Dean knew he didn't want to hear.

"It wasn't a hard choice," Dean repeated as if that would somehow make everything okay. "Right?"

"I wasn't made to be human," Cas repeated.

"So what? I should'a just left you?"

Cas didn't look up.

"Accepted you were dead and moved on?"

"Pretended I was okay."

"Pretended everything was okay."

"Pretended the love of life hadn't died?"

Cas's hand fell from Dean's grip, and the most pained, heart broken voice, Cas whispered: "yes."