Chapter Text
A pat on the shoulder.
He opened his eyes.
The hunter was looking at him, worried. And for the first time in months, he was looking back, with his own eyes, not clouded by Lucifer’s presence.
“Dean” Castiel said in his usual hoarse voice. The hunter realised his best friend was back and in a split second his expression shifted.
“Cas!” he exclaimed, looking concerned. “Hey, is that you?”
“Lucifer is gone” the angel simply replied. A furtive yet relieved smile crossed Dean’s face. Castiel went on “Amara ripped him from my body”.
“To where?”, Dean asked .
Castiel genuinely had no idea. He was only glad he wasn’t sharing his body anymore. Dean helped him stand up, the angel took a few steps and there he saw his Father, lying on the floor.
It was the first time he was seeing Him through his own eyes. He couldn’t actually believe it. Castiel had been searching for his Father for six years, roaming the world, and there He was. Chuck. The Lord, His Father, was the so-called prophet, Chuck. Small and vulnerable, Chuck.
And He was dying.
***
Back at the bunker, when Chuck nearly fainted in Sam’s arms, Cas tried to help but he could hardly hide his annoyance. He didn’t want to feel this way, and maybe it was remnants from Lucifer’s resentment, but truth be told: he was pissed.
He followed Sam and Dean in the kitchen. Cas was here now and he had felt so out of it, he wanted back in, urgently. But Dean just stood there drinking his beer. Yet again Castiel felt powerless, useless.
Finally, Dean talked to him, asking him to join on a grocery mission, that wasn’t much but he knew he needed some time alone with the hunter. He would have time to speak with his Father later, right? Right.
***
Riding in the Impala, that was something he had missed. The familiar smell of leather, the soothing sound of the purring engine, and Dean. He had missed Dean. He had craved a conversation between the two of them, and now that it was happening, he couldn’t help but feel terrified. Nevertheless, as usual, he was sporting that ever-stoic face of his.
Cas glanced at Dean when he wasn’t looking, and when he turned his face back on the road the hunter’s stare was like a burn. He was feeling so much shame for his actions that he was dreading his best friend’s judgement. He knew it was coming. Of course, Cas didn’t realise that the long look from Dean was full of concern, not accusations, but he was so consumed by his own guilt that he couldn’t even recognise worry in his friend’s eyes.
“How you doing? You good?” the hunter asked. Cas couldn’t take it, how could Dean be asking that, after everything he had done? He tried to avoid his stare and looked out the window, at the passing landscape. “I mean, you know the whole Lucifer thing,” Dean continued.
Cas felt a sting in his heart. He let out a bitter sigh. “I was just… So stupid”, he said with remorse. “I’m so sorry, Dean,” he thought, but the words didn’t come out. He was trying his best to hold back tears.
“No, no no,” Dean interrupted, “it wasn’t stupid you were right. You were right to let Lucifer ride shotgun. I mean, me and Sam wouldn’t have done that.”
Much good it did us, thought Castiel angrily. “Well it didn’t work”, he said instead. And again, because he couldn’t meet his friend's gaze, he looked out the window.
“No, but it was our best shot, and you stepped up,” Dean said. Cas felt ashamed once again, “I was just trying to help,” he tried to explain.
When Dean told him that he did help, Castiel’s heart sank. How could had he been helping? Him? The expendable angel? The one no-one cared about, the one who was, to Amara’s own words “not even worth the effort” to be killed.
“You know, sometimes, me and Sam have got so much going on that...we forget about everyone else,” Dean said.
Another sting to the heart. Of course they forget about everyone else, how couldn’t they?
“Well, you do live exciting lives,” he said bitterly with a fake smile.
“What am I to you? The broken angel always in the way?” he thought. Amara was right he was full of self-loathing. And just like that Ambriel angel said: he definitely wasn’t the hero in this story. For a fleeting moment, fighting side by side with the Winchesters, he had thought he was being mighty and powerful. He used to be a strong ally, but he had fallen, had done terrible things, and had nearly killed them both, on many occasions. He wasn’t worth a thing. He should have killed himself a long time ago when he was still brave enough to do so. Way before this whole mess with Lucifer.
But now he was just too scared to die. That was it. He was an expendable useless coward baby in a trench-coat. How Dean could even talk to him at that moment was beyond his understanding.
Dean’s voice pulled him out of his internal monologue: “But you're always there, you know?”.
Castiel looked over to Dean still not daring to meet his eyes. “You're the best friend we've ever had,” the hunter continued.
Castiel didn’t make a sound, didn’t move. Those were the words he needed to hear, but they didn’t make him feel better. He just reflected on the many different ways he had let them down, or even betrayed them, over the past years. One hell of a friend he was.
“You're our brother, Cas. I want you to know that.” Dean finished.
Cas was on the verge of tears, not exactly knowing if he felt happy or sad. He replied a mere yet heavy “Thank you”, full of meaning, but he didn’t know if the hunter had caught up on that.
He wanted to add something, there was so much left unsaid. He meant to tell him how he felt, but he knew that if he let it out he might just not be able to stop, pouring his heart out and breaking down.
Dean phone rang anyway and the moment was gone, they had to hurry back to the bunker.
***