Happiness Is(n't) In The Having

Chapter Nineteen - For You, For Me, For Us

I couldn't leave you guys hanging for too long after I left off like that in the last chapter, even though it's after 5am but whooo caaares I DID IT!!! Just hope my tiredness won't come out lol. Maaaaybe it's a bit over the top dramatic, but...they kinda do that, don't they? Anyway, it flowed out of me like that so here it is.

Weeee, I'm excited, dunno why, should be used to it by now shouldn't I. Gee, okay, hope you like it, love yall! 💙

~oOo~oOo~oOo~

"Where are you going?"

Dean sits up on his bed and watches how Cas strides for the door with his pyjamas in hand, gathered from one of the drawers that Dean had cleared for him some time ago. It had happened gradually, really. No big invitation or announcement, they just hadn't bothered sleeping apart ever since that first night, and the few things Cas possessed naturally found their way into Dean's room to stay there, little by little. Dean hadn't even noticed until he'd found a pair of ridiculously printed socks among the shades of black and grey in his drawer. 

"I thought you might not want me here tonight", Cas says quietly, matter-of-factly, without any emotion or judgement. "So I'm retreating to my room."

He says it like he's informing Dean of the weather, eyes lowered to the ground. It sends a sting of pain through Dean's whole body, and he can feel his shoulders tensing, his throat tightening in panic. 

"What? Don't be silly, Cas." 

They haven't spoken yet, not after he left Cas standing in the room with that little vial of glowing grace in his hand, beautiful and innocent and inexplicably the cause of all this madness. He hadn't been gone long. As soon as he'd reached the library and paced up and down to cool off for a moment, he'd known he had to go back. Cas had still been standing in the same spot when he returned, and Dean had opened his mouth when he entered, unsure what he intended to say, but it didn't matter because the look on Cas' face had made any possible words die on his tongue. 

Instead, they'd just wordlessly proceeded to get ready for the night, and even though the tension had been palpable, words unspoken heavy in the air, Dean feels foolish now that he hasn't even for one second thought about this. Of all the things he'd imagined might happen, from shared apologies to them yelling at each other again, there wasn't a moment when he saw Cas leave.

It throws him off course, that silent apathy, even though he knows it's only a facade. Cas' heart and mind must be raging just like his own, but the surface is quiet and still like untouched water, and Dean wants to cut through it, wants to make it rough and moving, even if in anger. Everything is better than the dead stillness.  

"No."

There's a twitch of muscle next to the angel's mouth at that, and Dean breathes in.

"No, Cas, c'mon."

He sounds far more confident than he feels, surprised that his voice isn't shaking from raw fear. Because that's what it does to him, the image of Cas halfway through the room, motionless yet just on the verge of disappearing. There's fear, and it's drowning and gnawing and irrational Dean just knows he can't let him walk through that door.

He's too used to it already, the weight in this back that makes the mattress dip down, the shallow sound of Cas' breath that soothes him into sleep. He can't even entertain the thought to not wake up to the colour blue. 

"Please, don't."

The angel throws an unsure glance at him, standing in the room, still angled towards the door but unmoving. Dean can see the fight going on in Cas' head, suppressed longing colliding with the instinct to flee and avoid confrontation, suspended in the in-between.