The Year of Redemption

Chapter 39: Falling For You

Dean stood up and put his dishes in the sink. He poured himself another glass of wine, emptying the bottle. Cas stood up as well, watching him. To be honest, he seemed like he was getting a little tipsy, even after all of his derisive comments about the "cheap, fru-fru alcohol." Of course, he had drank almost the entire bottle by himself.

Another song came drifting through the static of the radio: "I don't want to be the kind to hesitate/ be too shy, way too late./ I don't care what they say other lovers do, I just want to dance with you..."

Dean started tapping his foot along to the beat. "George Strait, a classic!" he exclaimed and started humming along as well.

The melody of the song began to play, and Cas listened intently to the lyrics. He came to a silent decision and walked over to stand directly in front of Dean. He held his hand out. "Would you care to dance?" he asked sincerely.

Dean stared at him, as if he was trying to figure out if the angel was being serious or not. Cas kept his hand out insistently. After a combination of shaking his head, rolling his eyes, and taking more of a swig than a sip of wine, Dean set down his glass and put his hand in Castiel's. "Why not?" he said, almost sarcastically, letting Cas pull him towards the center of the kitchen floor.

"One condition," Dean stated after they had stopped in the middle of the kitchen and Cas had awkwardly taken Dean's other hand as well. The angel tilted his head, giving the hunter an inquiring look. Dean moved Castiel's right hand up to his shoulder, then put his own left hand on the angel's waist. "I get to be the dude," he stated. Then he started swaying, moving the angel along with him.

"That makes sense to me," Cas remarked matter-of-factly, following Dean's simple movements to the left and right.

Dean narrowed his eyes, looking at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Castiel glanced down at Dean's feet, copying his small steps forwards, backwards, and to either side. Cas decided that Dean must have done this before and was just repeating a well-known routine. "You always act so tough," the angel replied, still concentrating on Dean's feet, "like you're the one who needs to protect everyone else," he finished, looking back up at the hunter. He waited for some sort of quick retaliation from Dean, but there wasn't one. So he added truthfully, "I admire that."

Dean stared at him for a long time. Finally, he spoke up. "I have to protect them," he said, averting his eyes but still swaying with Cas. "I have to at least try. It's the only thing I know how to do." They slowed down, barely moving back and forth now. "It's the least I can do after everything," Dean said more quietly. His eyes focused on the angel again, and it was as if both of them were having the same exact thought.

Castiel's hand moved instinctively down to Dean's left shoulder, and they froze in place. The spot felt familiar to them both. They read the same memory in each other's eyes – the same loneliness and pain and regret. They were both thinking about one thing: the day Dean was pulled back up, the day he was rescued from his sins in Hell. Both of them were there. Both of their lives were at stake. And both of them were saved that day.

The memories in Dean's mind flashed back, good and bad – from being rescued from Hell to everything that had happened since then. Dean's body shuddered involuntarily underneath Castiel's grip. "Sorry," Cas whispered, quickly moving his hand away and back up to the top of Dean's shoulder.

Dean met his eyes. Cas could swear – at that moment – that he could see the universe in them: an infinity of memories and thoughts and emotions, all swirling around without anywhere else to go. He understood: they'd been building up for too long. Dean needed to let them out. He longed for Dean to finally give them some sort of release.