Standing Together

Chapter 84

A/N I'm only 16 chapters ahead now and I'm spending too much time on twitter to catch up to the ~25 chapters I used to have prewritten whoops

Also YESTERDAY WAS TAYLOR SWIFT AND JOE ALWYN'S TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY AND SHE WENT TO HIS MOVIE PREMIER AND THEYRE ADORABLE AND IM SO EMO

"So, you still have another album to make, don't you?" Dean asks randomly one day.

"Eventually," Castiel replies.

"When are you going to start working on it?" Dean asks.

Castiel shrugs noncommittally. "Eventually."

"Have you written any of the songs yet?" Dean asks.

"Not really." He hasn't written any songs since the terrorist attack. He hasn't really wanted to, which is definitely a first for him.

"Are you going to soon?" Dean asks.

Castiel shakes his head. "I just want to enjoy my vacation for a little while longer."

"Well, I think you should write a song soon," Dean says. "What's the fun in living with a songwriter if he doesn't write any songs?"

"It's probably a lot like living with a football player that doesn't play football."

"That was a low blow, man," Dean says.

"Sorry," Castiel mumbles.

"You know how you could make it up to me?" Dean says with a hopeful smile.

"How?" Castiel asks.

"By writing a song."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "You're just not gonna shut up about this until I do, are you?"

"Nope," Dean says proudly.

Castiel sighs. "Fine, but it's not going to be a song for you, and you're going to realize it's a lot more boring than you'd think."

"I am totally okay with that," Dean replies.

They head to the living room, and Castiel brings his notebook and guitar to the middle of the room. He sits down on the floor, his back to his fiancé.

"You can sit on the couch," Dean says. "I don't bite — unless you want me to."

Castiel chuckles. "I'm good, actually, but thanks. I think."

Castiel closes his eyes, trying to pretend he's alone, just him and his guitar. That's how he likes to write, and it's harder than he thought to do it with someone else in the room.

He tries to think of something happy to write about, something that he wouldn't mind showing Dean when it's done, but his mind keeps going back to the same thing every time.

The terrorist attack.

He's always written to make himself feel better. There's somethings about putting the feeling into words, getting it out there, that's almost freeing, in a weird sort of way. But he's never had something so heavy weighing on him before. Is this just going to make it worse? Is it worth living it again to write this song?

But if that's all he can think of, that's what he'll have to do.

~~

"Done," Castiel says, putting his pencil down on his notebook with a satisfying thump.

"Wait, seriously?" Dean says in disbelief. "But you haven't actually said anything. You just kinda mumbled a lot."

"Yeah, that's how I write," Castiel says. "I can hear it in my head. I don't need to sing it out loud unless I'm recording it 'cause I want it on the album."

"Can I at least hear it once?" Dean asks. "Because I kept waiting for the big reveal and this was really anticlimactic."

Castiel looks down at his notebook, scanning the lyrics briefly. "I don't think..."

"Please?" Dean begs. "I wanna hear it."

Castiel hesitates, then asks, "If I do show you, do you promise not to get all sympathetic or therapist-y?"

"Yes?" Dean says uncertainly. "Now I'm kinda concerned but yes?"

"If you're already concerned —"

"No, no, I take it back," Dean says quickly. "I'm not concerned. Go sing."

Castiel takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for this, and then starts singing.

I can't close my eyes
Without seeing it again.
The fire, the blood,
Can't get it out of my head.

Every time I sleep,
I see it in my dreams.
Their terror and their fear
And the echo of their screams.

And I can't help thinking
It was my damn fault,
It was my damn show.
They got so close
And I didn't fucking know.

Months and months have passed
But I'll never forget it.
Everyone's asking if I'm okay
But I know I can't explain it.

So I hide away,
Drift from view.
And when I come back,
I'll pretend I'm good as new.
Cause what else can I do?

The blast of fireworks,
A loud crack of thunder.
My old nighttime soundtrack
Now sends me running for cover.

But I know I can't complain.
Some had it worse than me.
Some lost limbs, some lost lives.
I just lost my sanity.

"I should've helped them.
I should've stepped in.
I'm no angel.
I'm just a coward in hiding.

Months and months have passed,
But I'll never forget it.
Everyone's asking if I'm okay,
But I know I can't explain it.

So I hide away,
Drift from view.
And when I come back,
I'll pretend I'm good as new.
Cause what else can I do?

I'm sure everyone thinks
That I made it out fine.
But just 'cause my heart still beats
Don't mean I'm still alive.

Castiel looks up at Dean when he finishes. Dean opens his mouth, then closes it again silently.

"You're being weird," Castiel says, and he can't help but feel a bit nervous as he waits for a response. This is one of those songs that he never would have shown anyone if the situation had been different. Even if it was someone else in Dean's place, he's not sure he would have sung it.

"I just don't know what to say," Dean says. "I don't know what I can say. The whole 'not getting sympathetic' thing is really hard."

"That's why I wanted to keep this to myself," Castiel says.

"Can I at least give you a hug?" Dean asks.

Castiel puts his guitar down and climbs up on the couch, wrapping his arms around him. Dean hugs him tightly, and Castiel buries his head in the crook of Dean's neck.

"Thank you for trusting me with that song," Dean murmurs. "I love you."