#sana congrats bestie! <3 <3 <3

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

for day one of @sobernatural ‘s 2k celebration: “you did what?” // acceptance // blue

A month ago, taking Cas and running seemed like a good idea, or, at least, it seemed like the only idea. The other option was to just send Cas out into the world on his own, a freshly grace-less former angel in a hoodie, and Dean couldn’t do that.

(He’d thought about it, for a second, though, so maybe this was his punishment for considering leaving Cas behind. That’s what it would have been, even if Cas had been the one leaving.) 

And maybe it’s still a good idea. It’s just the two of them, picking occasional fights with the rare specter, trying to stay away from the powers searching for Cas, and Dean, calling Sam and trying to keep the peace, watching crappy TV and hitting every diner in the more obscure parts of middle America. 

(He feels like everything is starting to fall around him, but then again, it always has been.)

But all that has stopped. They’re at a standstill, because Cas has gotten some kind of cold or sinus infection. Dean’s not sure, and they can’t really go to the doctor, since Cas is technically a different person, but Dean’s been plying him with tissues, cough medicine, painkillers, and a lot of water for the past three days. He can’t tell if it’s helping.

Dean sits on the edge of the motel bed, sinking the mattress down, the springs old and creaking. Cas cracks his eyes open, revealing a sliver of blue. He needs a shave. 

He needs a shower. 

Hence Dean waking him up.

“I don’t want to,” Cas says, his voice creaky and rough from coughing and disuse. 

“It’ll help you feel better.”

“That’s what you said about the cough medicine.”

“Well, I didn’t say it was magical. I just said it would help.” Dean offers a hand to Cas. “C’mon.”

Cas didn’t really come with pajamas (it occurs to Dean that maybe they could go shopping, now that Cas wears different clothes every day), so he’s been wearing random sweats and an old undershirt that Dean dug out of his closet. Cas shoves the covers back feebly, and Dean thinks that maybe he should find something clean in his duffel for Cas while he’s in the shower. 

Cas bats Dean’s hand away and fumbles his way to the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him. A minute later, Dean hears the water start, and he grabs his key (this motel is old-school and still uses physical keys, not cards), heading to the front desk to request new sheets and raid the vending machine for cold water again. 

When Dean gets back, the water’s still running, but it’s ‘been less than fifteen minutes, so he thinks nothing of it.

Five more minutes pass.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Cas is gonna be upset if Dean checks on him, Dean knows that, can tell that Cas doesn’t like being human but won’t say it. It wouldn’t offend Dean, being all fragile and breakable is the worst.

(Last week, before Cas got sick, Dean had to teach him how to reset a broken nose. It wasn’t fun.) 

But he has a feeling that the water’s gone cold, which means Cas isn’t in the shower because he wants to be.

Dean hesitates for a moment at the bathroom door before pounding on it. “Cas? You okay?”

No answer.

“Cas?”

Silence.

“I’m coming in, dude.” Dean eases open the door to find, as he suspected, Cas huddled in the corner of the shower stall and the water still running. 

“I couldn’t get up,” Cas finally says, voice barely audible over the shower’s spray, and Dean wonders if maybe Cas did answer him a minute ago but he couldn’t hear it. 

“Let me help you, then.”

“You don’t need to help me.”

“Yeah, I do.” Dean opens the shower stall and turns the water off before offering Cas a hand. He tries not to look (but also not-not to look) as he pulls Cas up to standing. 

Cas pushes past him feebly, and Dean calls after him, “There’s clean clothes on your bed.”

He waits about five minutes for Cas to be clothed again before exiting the bathroom. Cas is sitting on the bed, rubbing his eyes, wet hair sticking up in every direction, and when he sees Dean, he averts his gaze. 

“Cas,” Dean says, sitting opposite Cas on the other bed. “Talk to me.” 

“You don’t need to help me.”

“I already told you that I do. You’re—“ Dean stops. Best friend is close, but not quite there. Brother? Completely wrong, Cas is nothing like Sam. Less than a year ago, Dean’d almost let the word love spill out, begging Cas for his life, and he guesses that’s—“You’re you,” Dean finishes lamely.

“And me is…you would say that I suck.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“I mean, the slang. I suck.”

“Cas—“

“I’m not useful anymore.” Cas has a bit of blanket in one of his fists, squeezing it. “We’ve spent half a week here, vulnerable, just because I got sick.”

“I’ve been sick before.” Dean shrugs. “Doesn’t make me less useful. And you don’t have to be useful. You can just—“

Cas interrupts him. “You said you needed me.”

“…What does that have to do with this?” Dean feels his pulse quicken as he thinks of the crypt and the angel tablet and Cas slipping out his angel blade, poised to kill. 

Poised to kill him. 

“You need me, and I’m not useful.”

“I didn’t—“ Dean stares at Cas, bewildered. “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re not a weapon or something. You’re—“ He’s stuck again. “You’re you. That’s what I meant.”

“And I’m an angel. Or, at least, I was.” Cas’s grip on the blanket grows tighter. 

“You’re more than that. I mean…” I wish I could tell you what I mean, Dean thinks. He’s not even sure that he’s accepted it himself. Because he knows how this works—acceptance, in his line of work, of someone’s importance to you means that they can be used against you. Means if they’re gone, you’re gone. 

(In his heart, he knows it’s too damn late to escape that. But he can pretend.)

“I mean that you don’t have to be an angel to matter,” Dean finally says. “You just matter to me.” It’s lame, and not quite right, but it’ll do for now, because Cas’s brow smooths, just a little, and he lets go of the blanket and grabs one of the new water bottles. There’s this chasm between them, unspoken, but it’s getting smaller, bit by bit. 

He hopes. 

Maybe one day, he’ll know how to say what he needs to say—what Cas needs to hear. 

#offbeatwrites #it's sappy I know #one thing about me is. I'mma fix season 9 #sobernatural2k #sana congrats bestie! <3 <3 <3