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He could feel the grit and grime against his fingers when Dean took his hand, layer upon layer of filth building up over each day spent in Purgatory. If Cas focused, he could let himself feel every molecule – separate the dirt from the sweat, the blood from dead skin – but he didn’t. He simply squeezed back, feeling the warmth against his palm.
“How many more of them, Benny?” Dean asked, his other hand adjusting his grip on his makeshift weapon, ready for whatever the answer may be.
Cas heard the vampire inhale sharply through his nose. “That seems to have been the last of them,” Benny replied, the For now left unsaid. Despite the seemingly endless woods, monsters were never out of shouting range. Every fight only attracted more.
For a moment, the three of them stood there, listening. The wind passed through the forest like a whisper, just strong enough to rustle the trees and undergrowth in its path, the sound indistinguishable from an encroaching foe.
Eventually, though, when nothing was enough to hold their attention, their adrenaline began to wear off. Exhaustion hit them full force.
Sleep was different in Purgatory. Cas and the Leviathans exempted, everyone still needed sleep in this realm, but it was a fleeting and dangerous thing. There were no days in Purgatory, only the same constant grays, so the only real way to know when to sleep was when your body could no longer keep you upright. Existing in a constant state of fight or flight could keep the body going for a good while, but it only made the crash down more brutal. Even then, even with your body collapsing from exhaustion, sleep was still elusive. Every cell in your body rebelled at the vulnerability of sleep, making it brief and fitful. Cas suspected that the ferocity of the monsters in Purgatory was only partly a survival instinct – it was the natural result of a mind without rest.
Cas could feel Dean’s weight against his side. Dean trembled almost imperceptibly with the effort of staying upright, threatening to join the bodies scattered around them on the forest floor.
“We should rest for now,” Cas suggested, strategically avoiding looking at Dean lest he take it for a challenge. He squeezed Dean’s hand once more before letting go, but he didn’t move away.
“Just what I was thinking,” Benny said nonchalantly. Cas looked over to see him picking bits of gore from his fangs with a fingernail. He swiped his tongue across them once more before he retracted them into his gums. “I’ll take watch this time.”
Cas rolled his eyes. “Don’t be stupid,” he said “I don’t even need sleep. I’ll watch over you.”
“Well, vampires don’t need as much sleep as humans, anyway,” Benny dismissed him, already walking away to find a strategic place to settle “Go… meditate or whatever it is you do.”
He could feel Dean lean even harder into his side and knew he didn’t have time to argue. Cas narrowed his eyes towards Benny’s retreating back, but dutifully guided Dean until he was half-propped against the trunk of a nearby tree, his back slotted against the curve of its massive roots. Before he could leave Dean to his rest, he felt himself being tugged back, an insistent hand pulling on the sleeve of his coat.
“Stay,” was all Dean seemed to be able to get out. His eyes were barely open, his eyelids fluttering weakly in time with his breathing.
Cas knew he didn’t have to stay – Dean would be asleep in less than a minute, no matter how stubbornly he tried to stay awake – but he had never been good at refusing Dean. So, with a bone-weary sigh, Cas arranged himself into a sitting position against the foot of the tree. Dean pressed into his side, head resting against his hip and hands still fisted in his coat like a child with a blanket. Within moments, he was completely asleep.
It was moments like this that made it hard for Cas to leave, even though he knew he should. He had no intention of escaping this place, and every moment he spent with Dean only put him in more danger, only worsened the stain on his grace. But, even as Cas knew that he didn’t deserve redemption, didn’t deserve Dean, he was nothing if not a selfish creature, at his core. He’d never been good at doing what he was supposed to.
Dean was different in Purgatory. He had always been a man that operated mostly on instinct, and it was only amplified here. There was no time for second-guessing in Purgatory, no time for petty human doubts or crises of morality. You did everything you could to survive, or you didn’t. When Dean was threatened with violence, he met it with the same. When he was tired, he slept. And when Dean needed comfort, needed someone to soothe his raw soul – he took it.
Cas hadn’t been aware of all the arbitrary human rules that had existed between them until Purgatory had torn them down. No more aborted, awkward glances, no more griping about personal space. Cas had already known every curve of Dean’s hands from memory – he had rebuilt them himself, after all, when he had pulled Dean from Hell – but now he knew them by the touch, by the feeling of Dean’s fingers slipping into his. He knew the feeling of the dip of Dean’s shoulder against his face when Dean pulled him into a hug, breathless with relief. He could feel Dean now, his warmth pressed against the length of his leg, snoring softly, warm and familiar.
Every little thing he learned about Dean – information given freely, by a Dean with fewer inhibitions – made it harder for Cas to leave. Because he knew, when the time came, he would anyway. It wasn’t fair to Dean, but Cas couldn’t help digging his own grave deeper. It would only make his penance more painful, yet still he dug, savouring the feeling of sunlight for as long as he could before the ground swallowed him whole.
By some small miracle, Cas felt Dean stir against his side a few hours later, before any approaching monsters could force him awake. Dean suddenly tensed against him like he always did, finally registering his surroundings. Cas knew the adrenaline would already be rushing back into his veins, warping the world around him and pushing him to move on.
Cas let himself bring a hand to the side of Dean’s face, his thumb rubbing soothingly against his temple. “Don’t worry, we’re safe.”
They both knew it was a lie. There was no safety in Purgatory, only suspicious reprieves from violence. Still, Cas felt Dean relax against him, if only slightly.
“You should go back to sleep, while you still have the chance,” Cas said, unable to stop his fingers from running through Dean’s hair. “I’ll watch over you.”
“Nah, I got my four hours,” Dean said, shrugging off Cas’ hand as he sat up “I’m good.” Dean didn’t move to stand, though. He stayed pressed into Cas’ side, leaning against the tree.
Feeling overwhelmed by the closeness now that Dean was awake, Cas tore his gaze away before they could make eye contact. Instead, he scanned the forest around them. There was no movement. He could sense Benny nearby, a vague awareness in the back of his mind, but that was all.
“It’s too quiet,” Cas said, looking around. “Something’s wrong.”
“Like what?” Cas could tell from Dean’s tone that he was rolling his eyes. “What are they doing? Plotting?”
Cas had to admit it was paranoid. Purgatory wasn’t the place for any plan more elaborate than kill or be killed. Still, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of dread.
“They’re after me, Dean,” he said, still refusing to meet Dean’s eyes “Every moment I spend with you puts you in more danger.”
“We’ve been over this, man.” Dean’s voice was low, exasperated. “I’m already in danger. I’d rather have you.”
I’d rather have you, cursed or not, Cas’ memory supplied without permission.
Cas made a frustrated noise, finally turning to face Dean. He had miscalculated how close they were. When Cas turned, they were sharing the same breath. “Something’s going on, Dean.”
“Something’s always going on,” he said, softly, as if worried his voice would carry over the sound of wind and shatter their current calm “Why is it impossible to think we might actually catch a break? Why can’t you let good things happen?”
Cas had a sudden suspicion that they weren’t talking about getting out of Purgatory anymore.
Dean glanced down at this mouth. Unlike on Earth, Dean didn’t let his gaze fall away, smothered by his own self-consciousness. Dean’s eyes lingered on his lips, before raising them with deliberate slowness to meet Cas’ once again. Cas didn’t need to breathe, but he felt his chest burn with the air caught in his throat all the same.
Dean held his gaze for a moment longer, flicking questioning glances between Cas’ eyes and his mouth. When Cas said nothing, Dean began to lean in. It was slow, despite everything, giving Cas every chance to turn away.
“Dean –” Cas began, but the protest died on his lips. I can’t. I don’t deserve this. This will only make leaving harder. Cas may have been strong enough to leave Dean when the time came, but he wasn’t strong enough to refuse this. Not when he knew he would never get another chance. Dean had paused at the sound of his name, but before he could move away, Cas closed the rest of the distance between them.
Kissing Dean wasn’t like what Cas had imagined it would be. He’d had lots of time to imagine it, in that seemingly endless year after the aborted apocalypse, when Cas had spent stolen moments watching as Dean settled into a normal life. With no God, no apocalypse, no purpose, Cas had let himself imagine what “settling down” could even look like, for someone like him. Living a humble human life, one with apple pie and mortgage, seemed absurd for an immortal being. But as he watched Dean – raking the leaves, humming to himself as he cooked, washing the Impala on a lazy afternoon – something in Cas’ chest ached to experience it. With him.
In reality, Dean did not taste of sunshine and apple pie. The bark of the tree was digging against their sides and Cas could feel the grit on both their faces rub together as they kissed, scratching at their skin. He knew his beard could only be adding to the discomfort, too rough against his face.
Still, despite everything, the kiss itself wasn’t rough. The surface-level abrasiveness gave way to tenderness, Dean’s lips moving against his own, slow and gentle. Cas felt Dean’s hands brush against his cheeks, fingers settling just behind his ears, cradling his face. Overwhelmed, Cas couldn’t help the raw, broken noise that escaped his throat.
“Easy, there,” Dean murmured between kisses. Cas could feel his smile against his lips. “I’m not going anywhere.” Cas fisted his hands in the front of Dean’s jacket, holding him there anyway.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” came Benny’s amused drawl, suddenly much closer than Cas had thought. Cas startled out of this kiss, looking around for any monsters that could’ve approached while he had been distracted. The forest was as silent as ever, deceptively still.
“Like you don’t know,” Dean tossed back easily, no evidence of any of the shame that had weighed him down in the real world. It made a knot form somewhere in the vicinity of Cas’ stomach, grieving for the Dean that could only exist outside the expectations of human society. “We need to start moving?”
“There’s only a few wolves and a shifter upwind I can smell. No leviathans.” Benny crinkled his nose in disgust. “They shouldn’t know where we are yet. Best get moving now, though, while we have a chance to cover some ground.”
Dean nodded in agreement, and Benny set off immediately. Moving to follow, Dean took Castiel’s hands in his, slowly working them out of their grip on his jacket with a small smile. He held them for a moment, giving them a reassuring squeeze.
Cas suddenly couldn’t take it anymore. “Dean, I –” Dean promptly cut him off with an exaggerated peck on the lips.
“We can talk about… all this later, okay?” Dean said, looking shy for the first time since they’d been here. “I promised I’d get us out of here.”
Cas didn’t have the heart to contradict him, and so he dug his grave deeper once more. “Okay, Dean.”
Dean grinned and, despite all the dirt and sweat, it was the most beautiful sight Cas had ever seen. He could bask in the sun just a little longer.
Dean picked up his weapon before standing up, his other hand still clutched in Cas’, pulling him along beside him.
~*~
When Cas came back from Purgatory, they didn’t talk about it. There was always something more pressing – figuring out how he had made it out, locating the missing prophets, rescuing Kevin from Crowley. Even when Cas showed Dean that memory of the portal, of Cas pushing away Dean’s outstretched hand, they didn’t talk about it.
Cas could feel it hanging in the air between them, like smoke. Eventually, they would have to deal with it, when the smoke grew too thick and choking. For now, though, they were stubborn, and were determined to take shallow breaths until they physically couldn’t anymore.
It finally came to a head during that odd case in Oklahoma, in that motel with that sickly yellow-green décor. Dean had sat on the edge of the bed across from him, their knees nearly touching in the space in between, and said “Talk to me.”
When had Cas ever been able to deny Dean anything?
So, he talked. He talked about his time as God, he talked about Heaven, he talked about guilt. He didn’t talk about Purgatory, not yet. Not until there was nothing left hanging over them.
“Because if I see what Heaven’s become, what I – what I made of it,” Cas finished “I’m afraid I might kill myself.”
Cas could tell he’d caught Dean by surprise. He didn’t speak, but Cas watched as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. Finally, “Do you really believe that?”
Cas had nothing to say, which was answer enough.
Dean dropped his head into his hands, slowly dragging them down his face. He didn’t meet Cas’ eyes, instead leaning back on the bed to look at the ceiling. Eventually, Dean hunched back over, forearms resting on his knees and hands clutched together between them.
“Listen, Cas,” Dean started, looking mostly down at his hands “We’ve all done some shit we regret. Hell, I’ve done enough to never get a good night’s sleep for the rest of my life.” Dean huffed out a laugh, hollow and humourless. “But it doesn’t matter, does it? It isn’t up to me.”
Dean met Cas’ eyes. “I may not think I… deserve to be saved,” Dean said, and Cas could hear his own words in his head, an echo of an old conversation “But I have people that care about me, and I keep going for them.”
Slowly, as if approaching a startled animal, Dean leaned forward to place a comforting hand on Cas’ knee. He opened his mouth, but quickly shut it again. Words that had come easy in Purgatory were harder now, Cas knew. This was a world of unspoken rules, of consequences, of relationships more complicated than just enemy or ally.
“Don’t you think,” Dean tried, voice rough “even after all we’ve done, that we deserve good things sometimes?”
“Dean –” Suddenly, Cas was back in Purgatory. He was leaning against the trunk of a dying tree, pressed against a man he knew, without a doubt, that he didn’t deserve, but wanting him anyway. Selfishly. Right until the end.
Maybe Dean was right. Maybe Castiel deserved penance for all that he had done, but it was a road without end. With no God listening – who was there to give him absolution? To what end was he depriving himself of the things that made life worth living? Maybe forgiveness was enough, for now. Maybe they could forgive each other.
Cas’ train of thought was interrupted by the sudden absence of Dean’s hand on his knee. Dean rubbed his hands against his own thighs, suddenly full of nervous energy. Cas looked to him expectantly until Dean met him with self-conscious smile.
“It’s fine,” Dean assured him, unconvincing “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it. I get it.”
“Dean –”
“Nothing’s changed,” Dean cut him off, standing to pace the room “It didn’t mean anything. What happens in Vegas, right?”
“Dean, listen, I –” Cas stood up, ready to grab at Dean’s turned back. He needed Dean to know that everything had changed, that it meant everything to him, that –
Sam chose that moment to return, oblivious to the tension in the room as he pushed open the motel room door. “Hey, I got something.”
They talked about the case and, for a moment, it was almost like nothing had changed. Except Dean never did meet his eyes, and Cas didn’t meet his. Even later, in moments alone, Cas couldn’t seem to find the opportunity to bring it up again, and Dean was all too content to not provide him with one. All the shame that hadn’t existed in Purgatory had built back up between them, harsh and isolating.
Cas had gotten out of Purgatory, but it seemed that he would be serving his penance all the same.