I want to live. I want to love. I think I am ready.

memories of warmth on a road not taken

 D E A N

The days alone in the bunker go by slowly, almost too slowly for Dean's liking. The books have given him nothing. The food doesn't taste the same anymore. His nights are restless. He can't concentrate on doing anything, he can't even sit down to re-watch his favorite movies. Not even the alcohol he consumes seems to work. The only light in his days is Miracle, who seems to sense his sadness and tries to cheer him up. But not even Mir can make him forget reality. His head is so far away, his thoughts only on a pair of bright blue eyes. Dean is lost.

His hands keep turning pages of books, his eyes keep searching the words, but not his mind. His mind is on the many memories of the past twelve years, that he never thought he would need to hold on to, to be able to continue on. The memories of all the years he spent in hell, were blurry and distant in his mind. What he remembered were those eyes. And then the voice that spoke to him.

Memories from when they first got to know each other.

Memories of everything they had been through together.

Dean doesn't really know when his feelings for the angel started to change, or if they had just been there all along, but he was too stupid to see it. But, he remembers when he first thought the thought. That he might be in love with Cas, not just loving him as a friend or a brother, but that he was in love with him. He tried to deny it for such a long time, after first exploring the thought. He suppressed those feelings because he knew the angel didn't love him like that. He knew Cas didn't feel the same way. Except, the angel had felt the same way.

He remembers the year in purgatory, how he spent a whole year fighting monsters and whatever else he faced there. The memory of longing for his best friend, having to find him and keep him safe. He was an angel, and still, Dean was determined to protect him with his life. It was sometime during that year in purgatory, that Dean started to really think about what his feelings for the angel meant. He spent a year looking for the angel, but also for an answer that had always been right in front of him.

And when he came back, without him, not having been able to save Cas, all Dean wanted to do was give up. He no longer had something to live for. He had a reason in Sam to stay alive, but it was Cas who had given him a reason to live. When Cas finally returned to Dean, he knew the answer. He knew he loved Cas in a way that scared him more than anything because he knew he would always be alone in feeling that way. Except, the angel had felt the same way.

Dean hid those feelings as if his life depended on them never being seen. Now, he wishes he hadn't done that. He wishes he had taken that road instead. Wishing he had dared to turn onto the road that scared him more than anything.

He should have taken the road he hadn't dared to take. A road that would have led him to warmth and love that he had only ever dared to wish for.

He had almost told him. Dean had almost told Cas that he loved him, more than once. But in the end, he hadn't. He wishes he had.

When Cas had been controlled by Naomi, and he was about to kill Dean. When Dean was pleading for Cas to fight it, to fight back, he had almost said the words. The words had been on his lips, but they were never spoken. And then Cas broke free, something had broken the connection, and Dean almost, for a moment, though maybe his feelings were returned. He almost said the words then, but he was too much of a coward. So he tucked them away, both the feelings and the words.

And then when Dean had been resurrected as a demon, nothing could save him. Sam had tried everything to bring back Dean. But nothing worked. Dean had believed Cas to be dead, so he had given up and let the demon take over. And then Cas was there. Cas was alive. And so Dean started fighting. Sam had cured him, yes. But Cas was the reason Dean started fighting. Fighting against the demon. Cas was the cure. And yet. Dean was too much of a coward to tell him.