Static Radios and Broken Lights

3: The Definition of Like

"Sam," I heard Cas stand up. "Can I speak to Dean alone?"

I looked up at Sam as he got out of bed. "Sure," He threw on a jacket and slipped into his shoes. He winked at me, then looked back at Cas. "I'll go get some breakfast. Do you want any?"

"No, thank you," Cas said.

"Alright, bye," I heard the door open and shut, then Baby's muffled engine roar.

My eyes slowly went from the ground up to Cas. He didn't look angry or disappointed. But he didn't look happy. His face was kind of hard to read, believe it or not.

He kneeled in front of me, and I braced myself. "Dean," He said gruffly. "What exactly did Sam ... mean? "

I let out a small sigh of relief. I rested my arm on my knee and held my forehead. "It's alright, Cas. It doesn't matter."

He huffed and shifted his weight off his legs. "It matters to me," He said. "I am not a child, Dean. But I don't understand this." He pouted for a few moments, watching his feet. "What is the definition of 'like' as Sam used it?"

I scooted towards him before I could stop myself. I wanted to reach out and hold his face. I resisted and held my own hands instead. I shook my head and met his gaze. "I don't know how to tell you."

"But you want to," He said. "I can feel it. You want me here so desperately, but you resist. Why?"

"I don't know," I said honestly.

He searched the floor as if it held the answers. "Is there a way to show me?"

I shrugged slightly and chuckled. "There is," I said. "But I don't think you're ready for that just yet."

He nudged my foot with his. "How do you know? Don't decide for me."

I rolled my eyes slightly. "Fine," I looked into his curious eyes. "I'm not ready to show you."

He huffed again. Impatience did not suit him. "I just don't understand, Dean."

"I know," I tried to sound comforting. I sighed and avoided his eyes. "Sam meant that I had -- have --" I cleared my throat and forced myself to look at him. "I have romantic feelings for you."

His face was blank until the words sunk in a little bit. His eyebrows raised slightly, and he kept his eyes trained on me. "But," His head tilted ever so slightly. "why?"

His question caught me off guard. At first i didn't know what to say. then I realized that was exactly it. "I don't know," I said honestly. "I'm just as confused as you."

"But I'm not female," he continued. "In reality, I don't have a gender. This body isn't mine," He gestured to it. He touched his cheek, "This face isn't mine. This voice isn't mine. I don't understand, Dean."

"I don't think those things matter," I said. I shrugged a little. "I mean, they don't hurt. I like this appearance." His expression was still bemused. "It doesn't really matter what you look like to me. I like you for you."

He looked down at his body. "I think I understand," he said after a few moments. "But what am I supposed to do with this information?"

"If I'm being honest, I don't know," That didn't seem to help him, so I elaborated. "You probably won't understand, but when a person likes someone, they usually want to be with them."

His expression closed off, becoming completely unreadable. "You want to be with me," he repeated quietly, as if only he could hear it. "What am I supposed to do then?"

I shook my head. "You don't have to do anything. I only told you because I wanted to know how you feel about me."

His brows furrowed, and I looked away with regret. When I looked back to let him speak, he was gone.

With that, I finally stood. I felt small tears roll down my cheeks. I wiped them away and sniffed. I pushed away all of those thoughts.

did i do something wrong? is he ever coming back? does he hate me now? i messed up. i messed up. i shouldn't have forced that on him. he doesnt understand. i wish he'd come back. i wonder what he sounds like when he has sex. i ruined this, didn't i? i wish i had kissed him, just once. i wish he'd come back.

i wish he'd come back.

I called Sam, and he came back ten minutes later with donuts and coffee. I chugged the hot coffee, burning my tongue, but I didn't really care. He set the small box of donuts on the table and avoided asking questions.

I stared at the floor, absentmindedly eating a donut. The silence was deafening.

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