Twist & Shout

Chapter 7

June, 1972-

Cas got a ride with Sam and Jess to the airport, and the entire way there, he couldn't stop moving. He kept tapping his feet on the floorboard, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater, and  pulling his glasses off to clean them, even though he had just done it minutes prior. Every now and then Jess would turn around and say something to him, maybe reaching out to playfully flip his hair. He would laugh and swat her hand away, and she would laugh too and turn around to say something to Sam.He knew that most men that returned home from the war weren't the same men that they were when they left, but he had hope-he always had hope that Dean would still be Dean, and nothing would have changed. They hadn't exchanged letters, packages, anything, so Cas had no idea what Dean had been up toover seas; he had some idea, but he didn't want to think about that.Jess turned around and reached back to flick Cas' hair again, laughing."You excited?""Of course I am!" Cas grinned pushed her hand away from his hair. He had actually attempted to make it look nice for today, and Jess kept reaching back to mess it up. He had tried to dress up too. He wanted it to be special;he wanted it to be good."Are you going to kiss him out there? In front of everyone?""Don't be absurd, Jess!" Cas barked a laugh, flipping the ends of her hair with his fingers, and she laughed softly, shaking her head. Sam rolled his eyes in the rearview mirror and Jess leaned across to kiss his cheek before turning back to Cas."It would be such a shocker, I bet!""It would, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to do it.""Alright, enough about kissing my brother!" Sam chuckled, parking the car and cutting the ignition off. "We're here, so let's go see him!"Cas stood beside Jess at the airport, and he could feel his hands shaking at his sides for a moment before Jess reached over and slipped her hand into his, squeezing it reassuringly. He squeezed her hand back, and she gently bumped him with her shoulder."It's going to be fine, Cas," she whispered. "He's going to be fine."He nodded and squeezed her fingers again, the sound of a plane roaring in the distance as it went over the terminal.The soldiers filed off of the plane, and Cas kept a lookout for Dean, standing on his toes to look over the heads of some people. He adjusted his glasses, pushing them further up the bridge of his nose, and Jess pulled her hand away from his to point at someone. He followed her finger and then he froze when Dean looked up at him, catching his eyes. His breath caught in his throat, and Dean smiled that wolfish smile of his."Cas-"He didn't hear the rest of what Jess had said because he was already pushing past people, apologizing to a couple of them as he made his way toward Dean, stopping in front of him when he reached him."Dean," he started, but the words got stuck halfway. Dean's smile diminished to something quieter."Hey," he whispered.Cas threw himself forward and wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, and he didn't care who saw them. Actually, he wanted everyone to see them. He wanted everyone to see how much he loved Dean, and how much he missed him, and if anyone didn't like, then they could just turn the other way. He melted against Dean when he felt arms wrap around him, Dean pressing his face into his hair, fingers bunching into his sweater."I missed you so much," Cas sobbed, pressing closer to Dean, and Dean hushed him, held him tighter."It's okay. I'm home now, it's okay." He looked around at the people whispering and loosened his grip. "We probably shouldn't make a scene here," he muttered, patting Cas' back in a more platonic manner.Cas nodded and pulled back, pulling his glasses off to wipe at his eyes, flushing. He hadn't meant to be like that. He swallowed and smiled and looked at him as Sam and Jess crept up behind him. Dean saw Sam and his face went white, as though he'd seen a ghost. He pushed Cas gently aside and grabbed his brother, pulling him into a tight hug that he seemed reluctant to let go of. Cas wrung his hands nervously, watching him kiss Sam's cheek"Sammy," Cas heard him murmur, and Sam ducked his head, squeezing Dean tightly in his long arms, "Missed you, kid," Dean croaked, and when they had separated, Dean cuffed him lightly on the shoulder as he brushed at his eyes with the back of his hand. Sam laughed awkwardly, hugging him again, and Dean obliged, slapping his back and smiling."We're so glad you're home," Jess said, her voice thin, and Dean turned to her, his face splitting into a grin. Jess laughed when Dean lifted her off her feet, kissing her cheek and setting her back onto the ground."God, you just get prettier every time I see you," he commented and Jess shook her head."Did Sam not tell you? I model for Vogue now!" she teased and Dean's eyes went soft as they looked over her."You gonna marry her yet, Sammy?""Dean!" Sam protested, flushing scarlet and Jessica coughed into her hand, glancing up at Sam's face."I'm just sayin' – life doesn't wait," Dean finished, his voice trailing off. He looked around at their faces, a sort of distance crossing his features and Cas stepped forward, breaking the silence."I think Sam can handle it," he chuckled, brushing a hand over Dean's uniform, the material rough beneath his fingers.  He met Dean's eyes, still marveling that he was there.  "Speaking of, Sam and Jess want to go to dinner tomorrow. There's this new place that just opened.It's nice.""Yeah, yeah, that sounds cool." Dean covered Cas' hand with his own, fingers rough on his skin from calluses Cas didn't recognize yet. He dropped his voice. "I just want to go home, if that's alright.""Of course!" Jess said quickly looking between the two of them. "We'll get you home and I'll call tonight to make plans with Cas!"Cas conveyed their gratitude, Dean having decided not to say much else, hefting his bag onto his shoulder and shifting his weight. Cas watched him out of the corner of his eye, heart hammering with excitement and anxiety and an overwhelming happiness.It was no surprise he couldn't keep his hands off Dean in the back seat of the car, holding Dean's hand in both of his, skating his fingers over Dean's knee. Dean kept his arm around Cas' shoulders and held him close against his side, his other hand smoothing over Cas' palm, touching his wrist, his arm, everything. Cas pressed his face against shoulder a moment before he twined their fingers together, squeezing Dean's hand.Sam parked in the parking lot outside of the apartment, and they all got out of the car. Sam helped Dean get his bag out of the trunk, and Dean threw it over his shoulder. He gave Sam a one-armed hug, patting him on the back, and then he wrapped his arm around Jess' waist, bending to kiss her on the cheek."I'll see you guys tomorrow?""Yeah, we'll see you tomorrow," Sam smiled and Jess hugged Cas and kissed him on the cheek, and Sam ruffled his hair. They stood on the street watching them drive off before Cas looked up at Dean with excitement."Ready?" he asked, backing towards the door, and Dean smiled, glancing up at the building and the window on the top floor. He took a small breath."Ready."Dean followed him into the elevator and Cas clicked the button, the door sliding shut. He glanced at Dean expectantly, but Dean didn't move. He kept his bag in his hand, staring at the closed doors as the numbers clicked off on the dial above it, the gears grinding and rattling the lift. Concern bloomed in his stomach, but Cas pushed it down, looking up at the buzzing light instead, trying to calm himself down. He jumped as the elevator whined to a halt, bracing himself on the wall, watching as Dean stepped out first and stopping a few feet in front of the doors, waiting for him.Cas followed, pulling his keys out, putting a hand on Dean's arm, infinitely relieved when he didn't flinch or pull away. He shook his head. Dean was fine. He was fine, he was just tired or something, and what did Cas really expect? Dean had just come home from war, there was nothing wrong with how he was being. His thoughts racing, Cas tugged him to the door at the end of the hall, stopping up short when one of the doors flung open and a little girl came out, bouncing a red ball. She stopped and stared at them, and Dean stiffened, Cas quickly dropping his hand from Dean's body."Molly, if your Gramma catches you out in the hall she'll be mad!" Cas said weakly and the little girl chewed on her lip, still staring at Dean. Cas glanced at Dean's face and he met his eyes and then looked back to Molly. Dean forced a smile."Who's that?" Molly asked, and Cas tried to think of something to say."Molly!" another voice surfaced and Cas waved at Mrs. Gardener. Her white hair bobbed as she hurried into the hall with her dressing gown on, grabbing Molly's hand."Hello, Cas – oh, you must be Dean! Cas said you'd be coming home. I'm Emily Gardener, and this is my granddaughter, Molly!" She held out her hand for Dean to take and Dean shook it gently, nodding, still silent."You're lucky to have such a decent friend to keep house for you while you're away!" she laughed, and Cas smiled, leaning a little more towards Dean, urging him to say something."Thank you," Dean answered softly, and Mrs. Gardener gave a brief goodbye, picking Molly up and hauling her back into the apartment, the door rattling shut behind her. Molly had started to cry in protest, her little white legs kicking as she squirmed, holding the ball tightly against her chest. Dean winced as the tantrum started up, her cries muffled through the walls. "I'm so sorry," Cas rushed. "I completely forgot about them – they moved here in July, and I just completely forgot to tell you."Dean cut him off, placing his hand on his waist, his touch light, just a brush of his fingers. "Cas, it's fine," he reassured, "but this bag is heavy."Cas jogged to the end of the hall, opening the door. He smiled, and Dean took it as an invitation, walking with slow steps to the apartment. He glanced around the door and saw it was basically the same. A few things had changed. There was a new afghan draped on the back of the couch, and a few dishes he wasn't sure he recognized. It was very clean, but otherwise, the same."I tried to keep it as close as possible," Cas hurried, closing the door behind Dean and rubbing his hands together. "I almost bought a new couch a few weeks ago, and there's a new rug in the bedroom, but everything else is the same. Except the plants I guess, those are new," he laughed sheepishly, walking around Dean's side, surveying the spotless apartment. "I killed the last ones unfortunately – I got swamped with school, and I kept forgetting to water them," Dean's bag hit the floor and he turned, grabbing Cas' chin, tilting his head, pressing their mouths together.Cas stood, frozen, for a moment as Dean pulled gently away, still holding Cas' face in his hands."You still talk too much," he murmured, searching Cas' eyes, the lids pulled wide and his pupils dilated from  surprise.Without any warning, Cas surged forward, knocking Dean over the bag. Dean's back hit the counter but he barely felt it – Cas clung to him, kissing him hard, using any opportunity to lick into his mouth. His hands raked at Dean's uniform, pulling it open, desperate to get to the skin underneath. He settled for the undershirt, touching Dean's stomach as he groaned against him."I missed you, I missed you," he chanted against Dean's lips, kissing his chin, his jaw, his neck, anywhere he could get to. Dean's hands scrambled over his back, fingers tightening in the fabric of his sweater, clenching and releasing, kissing Cas back, giving into the fever.Dean didn't know what to say, so he held him, and they panted against each other, Cas so flush against him he couldn't tell where he ended. Dean shuddered, bending forward over Cas' shoulder, the small of his back still digging in to the countertop. Cas held the back of his neck and kissed the side of his face over and over, his other hand clutching as it wound around his back."Oh god," Cas said after a moment, after they had quieted. "Oh god you're finally here, you're home – you're here."Dean breathed against him, tightening his arms. He was there. He was there, he just had to keep telling himself that. He was there, and the war was far away, not Cas. He was home. His eyes fluttered shut as Cas pressed his face into his neck, kissing him there."I love you," Dean exhaled and Cas stilled and a shiver ran through him, passing into Dean's body as well."Are you hungry?" he said suddenly, pulling away, turning to wipe his eyes so Dean wouldn't see. Dean let his arms drop when Cas busied himself with the refrigerator, his glasses bumping as he pushed his fingers under them, sniffing sharply."I'll fix you whatever you want, do you want something? I can make you whatever you want!" he bleated, gesturing at the open door. Dean watched him paw at his face, swallowing thickly."Anything is fine," Dean told him and Cas nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek."I'll make chicken or something, is that ok? Do you want that? Or soup? Do you want soup? I have some left over soup. It was—" he cleared his throat, "it was really good, or I can just make chicken salad if you want that;I'll make whatever you want."When he looked at Dean, his green eyes were so gentle."I don't care," he murmured. "I really don't care. You can make me a peanut butter sandwich if you want. I don't care.""I'll make chicken then," Cas affirmed, nodding to himself, pulling things out. Dean stepped out of his way, and picked up his neglected bag, carrying it to the bedroom. The mattress sank under his weight when he sat on it, untying his shoes and pulling them off. He padded to the closet and clicked on the light – his clothes were in the exact same place as when he left. He could hear Cas in the kitchen: the slight rumble of pots being pulled out and the stove being lit. He blinked, the tears rolling down his face. He wiped them away, and changed his clothes, shrugging into his shirt and a pair of jeans that were baggier than they used to be. He twitched, feeling a phantom mosquito that turned out to be nothing more than a speck of dust from his shirt. He must have lost track of time, standing there, and he shook himself out, walking back into the living room. He didn't know what to do so he sat on the couch. When he glanced into the kitchen he saw Cas standing there, like he didn't know what to do either.Dean got up and turned on the TV. He sat with his legs slightly apart, hands resting between, watching the news, trying to reset his mind.Cas appeared a few seconds later holding two plates."I kept getting distracted," he said hoarsely, and Dean smiled, taking the peanut butter sandwich from Cas' hand. Cas sat beside him, and set his plate on his lap. He didn't eat, but ran a hand through Dean's hair instead."It's a little longer than it was," he commented and Dean smiled around his sandwich, unused to the way the peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth. He finished chewing and swallowed, staring at Cas with tired eyes."Yeah, they don't hound you so much to cut it when you're out there because you're moving all the time."Cas nodded."I can imagine," he continued, and Dean leaned into the touch, the slight drag of Cas' fingers. Cas trailed his hand over Dean's face, thumb smudging at the corner of his mouth, and Dean slid his plate onto the floor."I'm not hungry," he whispered, and Cas' eyes fluttered, Dean's mouth descending on his neck. He gasped, holding Dean's head to him, Dean's arms, thicker than he remembered, stronger, hauling him towards him. His knees parted, Dean settling between them, kissing his neck and his jaw, Cas breathing heavily, at a loss for words, fingers scratching into Dean's hair and his shoulders.Cas' skin was so smooth and white, not nicked up like Dean's, or dark.He brushed his hand down over Cas' stomach, and something in him lurched."What?" Cas breathed, eyes dazed "What's wrong?"Dean stared at his hand, sitting back, away from Cas. He stared at his palm and curled his fingers over it. He could have sworn – but there was nothing there. It was dry."It's alright," Cas soothed. "We'll take it slow." He placed his hand in Dean's and Dean gripped it tightly, twisting his fingers over Cas'.Dean nodded vacantly."I'm tired," he muttered, touching his forehead and slowly standing. "I'm just tired."Cas watched him step over his plate and go to the bedroom, jumping up from the couch to follow him. Dean stripped down in a way that was nearly mechanical, and Cas figured it was, to some extent. Cas stood off to the side, watching Dean pull the blankets back, playing with the sleeve of his shirt. It was only eight o'clock at night."Oh, that's good," Dean moaned, sinking into the mattress, looking around for his pillow; it was under Cas'."Sorry," Cas said quietly as Dean pulled it out from beneath the other. "It smelled like you."Dean smiled and put it back on his side, throwing the other pillow off the bed. He looked up at Cas, his bare chest rising and falling. Cas twisted his hands, halting the movement when Dean sat up, throwing the blankets off of his legs."C'mere," Dean began and Cas walked to him, Dean un-tucking his shirt, kissing his chest through it as he did so. He rolled the sweater up, tossing it to the floor and Cas sighed, holding Dean's wrists as he undid the buttons, slowly peeling the shirt from his body. Dean ran his fingers over Cas' abdomen, shyly pressing his thumbs over the V of his hipbones.Cas bent down, pushing him against the pillows, hands splayed on his chest. He undid his belt with a quick tug and his pants fell, though he had to pull them off his feet along with his socks. He kicked them away and threw his leg over Dean's waist, settling onto his hips. He took his glasses off and put them on the night table, Dean skimming his palm over his side and bumping his fingers over his ribs and around his back, stroking down in broad sweeps.He rocked up and Cas moaned softly, curling over Dean, rolling his hips and seaming their mouths together. Dean's hand trailed to his ass, kneading slightly and Cas sighed again, eyes closing."We don't have to," he murmured, and Dean kissed him."I want to now," he replied, and he did. He wanted to. He ached for him; he ached for his skin sliding slick against his, for the ocean-like wave of his body. He didn't know what to do with his hands though, and Cas didn't mind, kissing the worries from his brow as he slicked his cock for him, leaning back and taking him slowly. Cas' throat hitched a little, but it was nice, he reminded himself. It was nice to feel whole again.Dean was home, and he was there, and he was touching him from the inside out and it was all Cas could ever ask for.Dean dug his fingers into the tops of Cas' thighs, and Cas covered them, rocking back, fucking himself down on his dick, head thrown back."Oh, Dean," he said breathily, Dean watching him, watching him because he was beautiful, and because he was too afraid to do anything else. He kept his hands planted, eyes half open while Cas fluttered his hands over his chest and his neck, moving steadily, obviously trying to reestablish their old rhythm.Cas watched Dean's eyes fall all the way shut, face calm, hips moving slightly to push up into him, but nothing too urgent. It was slow and shy, and Cas touched his face, but Dean still didn't open his eyes.When he came, Cas held him against his chest, carding his fingers through his hair with one hand, the other smoothing up and down his arm and over his chest. Dean cried against his neck, and Cas hushed him, holding him closer, covering him with his body."You're home," he whispered, kissing Dean's temple. "It's okay, you're home."After, he smoothed Dean's hair from his face and trailed his fingers down to his chest, noticing the thin gold chain that had fallen behind his neck while they fucked."What's this?" he asked and Dean caught his hand as he reached for it."S'nothin," he slurred, obviously slipping into sleep. "I'll tell you tomorrow."     Cas withdrew his hand and laid down against Dean's shoulder. It was warm and harder than it used to be because of the corded muscle he'd gained, but it was him. He pressed his nose into Dean's collarbone, letting the realness of him set in.Cas awoke later in the night, blearily feeling around. Delirious from sleep he felt for one heartbreaking moment that Dean was gone, that he had merely dreamed everything. The soreness between his legs told him otherwise, but he got up anyway, tripping towards the sliver of light under the bathroom door as he pulled his boxers on"Dean?" he rasped, pushing it gently aside, and Dean looked up from the where he sat on the closed toilet seat, his eyes red rimmed. Cas opened the door further and Dean held up his hand."Go back to bed," he said quietly, and Cas stared at him."What's wrong?""Nothing, go back to bed."Cas stared at him. It was obviously not nothing, but he didn't want to press. Dean would come round, wouldn't he? He was tired. He was just a little off. He just need time to sort himself out, and eventually, he would talk about it, and things would be worked through, and it would all be understood."Do you want to talk about it?" Cas asked, and Dean shook his head, the gold chain glittering over his chest, a little gold oval hanging from it. A medallion, like the ones his grandmother wore. Cas wanted to ask but he remembered Dean's hand darting out to stop him when he'd tried earlier. Time. He just needed time."Come back to bed with me," Cas requested and Dean sighed."I just need a few minutes."Cas' heart sank a little."Ok," he whispered, slowly closing the bathroom door and then going to lie down again. Out of habit he pulled Dean's pillow towards him. It smelled different.Dean, Cas quickly figured out, didn't need the time. If he did, something would have changed.But nothing changed. Dean refused to talk about the medal. He refused to talk about a lot of things, and he refused to do even more. It had started out alright. They went to dinner, Dean went to the garage, but there came a day where Dean didn't get out of bed one morning, and then the next, and then the next.Day after day Cas would get home from school or his job, and Dean would be facing the wall, eyes closed, but not sleeping, just breathing, his arms curled around his pillow.He hardly ate, and he hardly slept, spending most of his nights in front of the television, or in the bathroom, crying where he wouldn't wake Cas up. On the rare nights he fell asleep, he often woke up screaming, twisting himself into a frenzy, and when Cas reached out a hand to touch him, to get him to calm down, he'd flinch away and moan something he didn't understand.Cas didn't give up. There had to be something he could do, something that would snap Dean out of his stupor, he just hadn't found it yet. He had to keep trying.So he filled the silences. He talked endlessly about school, about the friends he'd made during the anti-war movements. Balthazar, an anthropology major, and his small circle of friends had helped organize protests. Dean would smile softly, going along with it. He'd sit at the table, staring out the window while Cas talked, like he was unable to look at him. Cas talked to Sam about it, and Sam said it was shell shock. They'd just have to wait it out, be patient, keep trying to coax Dean out it. Cas left these conversations feeling like a failure. He knew Dean best, didn't he? He loved him. He had fucked him; he had kissed him; he had waited for him.He had been lonely and distraught, he had pined and waited, and cried with worry. He should have been able to do something. There had to be something, he just had to find it. Something to bring him back, to make him realize he was there. He was sharing the bed with two people: Dean and the war, and he was fiercely jealous and even more desperate to rid himself of the home wrecker, the one who was keeping his Dean from him.He only knew he couldn't give up. He refused to.Cas sat on the edge of the bed, touching Dean's shoulder."I called Bobby. He's got your old racing bike tuned for you – I thought you might like to go down and ride it," Cas tried, trying not to let his impatience show. Dean stared at the wall, not moving."I'm tired," he whispered, and Cas faltered a little, glad Dean's back was to him."Baby, please," he pleaded. "Once you get out there it will be fun. It will be so easy, you'll see. You'll get into the groove again.""I'm not worried about that," Dean said sharply, drawing the covers more closely over his body. "I'm just tired.""But if you get out there you won't be," Cas said, smoothing his hand over Dean's back, "and if you like it, next weekend, we could go to the countryside. You know, like we used to? We could pack a lunch and spend the day out there, just you and I."Dean didn't respond and Cas slid his hand up to Dean's shoulder."Dean?""Hmm."Cas sighed."Please just give it a chance? I know – I know it must be hard, but if you went out again, you'll see. Just try it. For me, please.""I can't," Dean muttered. "I just can't.""But you can. I know you can," Cas tried to laugh, "There are twenty trophies staring right at me that say otherwise!""Maybe."Cas knew that maybe was no, but he played along."I'll tell Bobby maybe."Cas didn't know that when Dean went to sleep Cas coughed up blood. That his body was covered in scabs and bruises that split when Dean passed a hand over him, and all the while he smiled, and all the while he told Dean it was ok, silent mouth moving, mocking the real Cas who was desperate to be heard. They would get through it, his dreams said, and sometimes, most frightening of all, Adam would stand behind Cas and stare at Dean's face with his glass eyes and his stomach barely held in.He trusts you.When he was awake, he could hear Cas' voice growing thinner and thinner, and he was ashamed, and he was broken.He was afraid.Afraid that he would hurt him, afraid that he would break him too, that one day he'd go too far and the weight of the war would fashion itself into a knife and slice Cas open. He couldn't move, couldn't make himself turn around. He was no better than the lazy mother fuckers in his platoon, the men he had wanted to spit on, the men that had killed Adam because they weren't watching close enough.Cas left for school one day and Dean got up. He got dressed. Took a shower, the whole nine yards, but when he stood in front of the mirror he could barely place himself; he was gaunt and drawn in, and there were lines in his brow that refused to straighten, and all at once, with disgust, he realized that this was the face Cas saw, and it was nothing. It was nothing – not a man, not a lover. Nothing. It was the face of a soldier who couldn't fight anymore. Dead weight, pulling Cas under with him. Drowning him.  It wasn't long after that it happened.Cas had come home and at first he had been so glad – Dean wasn't in bed and he was so glad – but then he'd looked, and seen him collapsed against the couch, and he was so drunk he couldn't stand. As soon as he saw Cas he started to cry, and he couldn't stop."They shot him!" he yelled, Cas holding him up to keep him from slumping any further, where he might pass out. "They shot him – they killed him. One of their fuckin' own, they killed him!""Dean, who are you talking about?"Dean shook his head, gasping, snot and tears running down his face."I can't! I can't!" he screamed. "I couldn't save him!" He scratched at his own face and hair, unable to control himself."Dean, shhh," Cas tried, trying to keep him from flailing. "Dean, please, it's alright," he soothed, but Dean struggled, prying himself out of Cas' hands. He stood and fell to his knees, dropping to all fours, and Cas stepped forward to help him up.Dean didn't know how hard he pushed him, but books fell off the shelf and landed at Cas' feet as he slammed against it. Dean, too drunk to realize, sat back, still moaning into the floor."Her boy's dead. He's dead – we killed him. We killed him..." he gasped, curling in on himself.Cas, his head buzzing and starting to tingle where it had cracked against the bookcase, stared down at him, paralyzed. Dean sobbed, dry-heaving, and Cas staggered forward, dropping down to pull him into his arms."It's alright," he murmured, voice trembling. "It's alright, shhh....shhh," Dean quieted, clinging to him, and Cas buried his face in his hair."What's happened to you?" Cas whimpered, "What did they do to you?""They killed him," Dean slurred, "and all they've got to show are pieces of shit.""How do I help you? Tell me, Dean, just tell me," Cas whispered frantically and Dean shook his head."I'm poison," he muttered. "It'll get you."Cas cried, shaking as he held Dean's limp form against him, Dean sagging further against his shoulder, not sober enough to hold himself up."Come back to me," Cas begged, but Dean didn't know who he was addressing.Cas touched him after he'd understood what he'd done. When he'd figured out that he was the reason Cas had a bruise on his back and a welt on the back of his head."I'm okay," Cas had insisted, voice reedy with need. Dean had shook his head. Cas had made some indignant noise, crawling closer to Dean on the bed, forcing his attention, kissing him, even when he didn't respond."I'm fine, it's not your fault," he continued. "It's not your fault – I'm alright."Dean stared at the ceiling and Cas sobbed as he picked up Dean's hand and put it against his chest."Please. We both feel better after, please." Cas tipped his head forward, and Dean knew he was trying not to break. He was trying so hard. Dean didn't know why he tried. He couldn't get it up. Hadn't for weeks; every time he tried he wanted to throw up. He could only see Cas' skin as a blank canvas for him to destroy."Touch me!" he yelled, "touch me, because I don't know...Dean, please, please." He trailed off, and Dean could feel his heart slamming against his ribs, his hands white knuckled and trembling."Please," he nearly sobbed. "I'm alright, I'm alright, so please, just hold me. You don't even have to do anything – we don't have to, just let me feel you, so I know, so I can know..." he paused, stopping himself, watching Dean's face, but it was impassive. Dean slowly pulled his hand out from under Cas' and turned over, facing the wall.The bed squeaked as Cas got up.The dishes broke when Cas threw them.The record that was playing wasn't loud enough to cover his screams.Dean stared at the wall, and the picture nailed to it rattled as Cas slammed a chair in frustration.Cas kept trying because he wouldn't give up. He would never give up on Dean. He would try to get him out of bed during the day, get him to go outside and get some fresh air, but Dean wouldn't budge. He would just pull the covers tighter around himself, mumbling something about 'going out later'. It never happened though, of course, because Dean never left the apartment until Cas was gone, and then it was only to walk down to the liquor store.There were countless times when Cas returned home to Dean sprawled out over the couch, on the verge of passing out, an empty bottle dangling limply from his fingers. Cas would touch his face, smooth his fingers through his hair and kiss his forehead, sweet-talking him up and helping him into the bedroom. Cas thought he could have hated Dean then; he wanted to hate him. He wanted to hit him, to knock some sense into him, but Dean's face was lax, and his eyes were dull and disinterested.Cas couldn't hate Dean. He was gone.He moved like a corpse from one place to the next, letting Cas undress him when he was too drunk to do it himself, so quiet, rolling onto the mattress and falling asleep or staring at the wall. At least, when he yelled, Cas was able to glean something from him.But there was some detail he just couldn't get Dean to expel no matter what he did. The key to unlock the rest and understand it all, the reason he kept that terrible medal around his neck like a noose, suffocating him slowly. Cas consoled himself because he was desperate. Dean just needed time. He just needed to forget; Cas would finally find the words that would wake him up, that would show him he was here and the terrible reminders would dissolve. Like a spell, Cas fantasized; the medal would simply fall from his neck and shatter into a million pieces and Dean would be there instead. Wild and looking at him, not through him.But Cas was tired of waiting.The weight was crippling. He ached. There were circles under his eyes and his voice was wrung out, twisted over and over even though he hardly ever raised it. When he tried to answer questions prompted by professors he was tongue-tied and shy and words swam on the pages of his textbooks, blurring together, shimmering like waves.  He'd drift through the day, and then suddenly find himself sitting on the edge of the bed, crying his eyes out, Dean asleep beside him, and he was lost as to how he had ended up that way. He didn't know why he bothered to muffle himself. Dean wasn't going to wake up anytime soon. The brown bag crumpled by the couch had assured that.How petrifying it was to know he was crying out of relief. Dean was so still beside him, his chest rising and falling so evenly, his face calm and unmarred by the coarse anger of night terrors.The months dragged themselves along, scraping at the walls and the floors and at the inside of Cas' chest. Nothing worked. Cas wasn't entirely alone. Sam did what he could; he attempted reason and calm argument. Dean needed to get back on his feet, he needed to start feeling worthwhile again. Get back his sense of self. Start small, go on a vacation, anything.He'd leave, hugging Cas, his mouth pressed tightly together with a thousand apologies."It's okay," Cas forced a smile, touched Sam's arm. He was getting so good at lying."It's not," Sam replied. "What he's doing – what he's putting you through, it's wrong. I want to fix it, but I can't. He has to do this, and I'll be there for him the whole time, but...""It's okay, we're gonna get through this," Cas assured, and he didn't know who he was talking to anymore. "One way or another, we will. Even if it takes a while."But Sam was gone, and Dean was still in bed, covers pulled tight around himself, facing the wall and ignoring the world around him.It was so strange. It was so unreal at times. Like walking into some bizarre painting, some caricature of life, because how else did he explain it? How did Dean go from laughing, and smiling to this? When did it happen? When did he cleave straight down the middle, a broken shell, something unformed and unfinished lying there, letting the sea knock it aroundDean gave up on himself long before Cas did.They were watching TV together, an old episode of Star Trek or something, and neither of them were paying attention. Cas was rubbing Dean's neck, glad that he was out of the bedroom and they were spending time together. It was almost like they were falling back into their old routine, watching television  before they went to bed.Cas kissed his cheek, the corner of his mouth, anywhere that he could reach, and Dean gently squeezed his thigh where his hand was resting. Cas smiled softly."I love you," he laughed sadly, pressing his face into Dean's neck, wrapping his arms around him.Dean tensed and pulled back, grabbing Cas by the shoulders when he tried to move forward again. His eyes were blank, and his mouth was a flat line. Dean shook his head and gently pushed him away."I'm sorry.""Come on," Cas said weakly, another awkward laugh bubbling up from him. "Say you love me too."Dean stared at him."I'm sorry," he repeated. He covered Cas' hands with his own.Cas shook his head."You don't mean that," he mumbled, smiling. "Don't play around like that."Dean looked at where his fingers touched Cas' rubbing them softly."I love you," he conceded, and Cas felt the flood of relief swell over him. He could breathe again."Do you want to go to that Italian place? We haven't been in so long, so I thought we could go.""It's over, Cas.""They have that chicken marsala you like. Or I could pick some up and bring it home? We could have a night in, I thought. We could try a night in, and then maybe, later we could actually go." Cas' voice caught at the end, but he didn't know why. It seemed like a good idea. To tease Dean towards the outside again.Dean didn't say anything else and Cas didn't really...he didn't understand.Cas fell back against the couch when Dean stood up, walking back into the bedroom to collapse onto the bed, pulling the covers over himself and rolling over to face the wall. He pulled the covers tighter and squeezed his eyes shut. Cas appeared in the doorway, his shadow cast over him."So should I go get the chicken tomorrow?"Dean waited a moment."Sure, Cas," he whispered, and Cas backed out of the room again, going to sit on the couch.He didn't come to bed.Dean woke up alone, and Cas had left for school. He pulled his duffel bag out of the bottom of the closet and began to shove his clothes into it, the motions mechanical and soothing. He liked it – packing things up, putting them away. The duffel was so tidy and when he zipped it up it was neat and evenly packed and had a familiar weight to it. The girl from before -Molly?­­ - was in the hallway, and she waved to him; he waved back before stepping into the elevator.He took a cab to Bobby's garage, and he could see his bike around the side of building, looking as good as the day he left. The garage was closed, but Bobby's truck was parked outside, so Dean tried the handle, not surprised when he found it unlocked. The door to Bobby's office was open, and he walked inside. Bobby looked up, startled, his face brightening when he realized who it was."Dean! Boy where the hell have you been? You look like shit...which is better than what I thought.""I came for my bike," Dean said thickly, swaying a little to let loose some of his nervous energy.Bobby glanced at the bag thrown over his shoulder."You goin' somewhere?" he said slowly and Dean hardened his eyes. He wasn't there to answer questions. He was just there to get his bike. He just wanted the bike, nothing else, and he could see  Bobby gearing up to give him some kind of lecture"Let me rephrase: are you leaving?"Dean didn't say anything."What about-""Please don't tell him," he whimpered.Dean rubbed at his face, and Bobby stood, crossing the room to pull Dean against his chest. Dean cried against his shoulder, and Bobby gently rubbed his back before pulling away, holding him at arm's length."You can't do this to him.""I'm not good for him, Bobby," Dean croaked, swiping at his nose. "I'm hurting him, killing him. I swear I'm killing him.""Dean, please-""You can't talk me out of it!" Dean pulled away, rubbing at his eyes with one hand and adjusting the bag over his shoulder with the other. "Where are the keys to my bike? I need to get out of here."Bobby pulled the keys out of the bottom drawer of his desk and handed them over to Dean, catching him a hug before he got a chance to turn around and dart off.He held Dean's chin still, keeping him from looking away."You need to come back, you can come back. Anytime," he insisted.Dean nodded and returned the hug, squeezing his hand around the keys before he extracted himself and pushed through the door, heading straight toward his bike. He loved Cas, he kept telling himself, and that was why.It was a coward's prize.Cas returned home later in the evening, unsurprised by the silence of the apartment since it was mostly silent when he returned home. Either Dean was still in bed or he was out. His heart sank; if Dean was out there was no point buying dinner. He set his bag down by the floor with a heavy thud, the books weighing it down, and he rubbed the back of his neck, rolling his shoulders. The bedroom was empty when he looked in it, the blankets thrown back from the bed, and he kept rubbing at his neck tiredly, moving back into the living room to turn the television on and sit on the couch.He stared at the screen, the actors, and sighed heavily, tilting his head back. Just five minutes. Then he'd get up again. Just five minutes, and he'd be fine. He was so tired, and it was so quiet. It was so still and his head was pounding. His bones seemed to sink into the cushions, and when he woke up later in the night, he noticed that Dean still wasn't home. He blearily looked around the apartment, adjusting to the dark as he got off of the couch and went into the bedroom, only to find the light he had followed was coming from the closet. The door was halfway open, the light left on, and when he peered inside, he noticed that most of Dean's shirts were gone. The duffel was gone. His shoes. Cas stepped back until he felt the edge of the bed dig into the backs of his knees, dropping down onto it, his legs no longer holding him up."No," he said evenly. The tears burned at the backs of his eyes and he shook his head, touching his hair in disbelief. "No, no, no."He stood up suddenly, moving back to the closet. Maybe Dean had just moved his things, he thought as he searched, pulling his own things out and throwing them onto the floor. He moved to the dresser next, rifling through the half empty drawers. He stood in the middle of the bedroom, his clothes at his feet, and he instinctively pressed his hands to his eyes."Wake up," he whispered. "Wake up. This is a nightmare.His chest felt like it was about to collapse, his throat too tight to let anything pass.A strange broken cry wrestled its way up, and Cas dizzily bent forward, his heartbeat pounding in his ears."You don't mean it," he said to no one. "Don't do this. Dean, please,"He waited for the door to open, for Dean's boots to stumble heavily in, to hear him rustle through the cabinets for a glass of water, but there was nothing. The silence ate up his voice and Cas clutched at his own body, biting his tongue as the sobs shook through him.Cas had tried so hard to keep Dean from becoming someone that he wasn't, and he had failed. He pushed his glasses off of his face and screamed into his hands. He had failed and he had lost Dean to the war, the home wrecker that was always looming over their heads, slowly picking Dean apart until he finally broke. Some part of Cas knew that it was going to happen, but he didn't think it was going to happen so soon. He didn't think – he thought they had time. He thought that was what he was given in exchange for letting Dean go, for trusting something to bring him back. That was the price, wasn't it? Time to fix him. Time to piece him back up, to sew him back together.Time hadn't kept its half of the deal, and Cas wondered with sudden fear if this was the real fairytale. The frightening ones where children got eaten by wolves and witches and no one lived happily ever after. There were no magic spells. There were no words he could say. Dean was gone.Slowly, floor, chest stuttering, and stumbled back to the bed, dropping down onto it. He didn't even bother to properly pull the blankets or undress. He laid his body on Dean's pillow and faced the wall that Dean had spent most of his days staring at, eyes roaming for answers.There were no answers there. It was only a wall; blank and unforgiving.He closed his eyes, the anger making him cry.He didn't want to cry anymore, because crying wasn't going to bring Dean back. But the bed felt so empty without him, and the apartment was so quiet without his screams, without the constant reminder that Dean was right there. Cas laughed bitterly, shaking his head, because it was pathetic, thinking that he would much rather have Dean beside him, thrashing in his sleep, than to be in bed alone.But it was true, because at least Dean would be with him.