Happiness Is(n't) In The Having

Chapter Thirteen - There Are No Words

Oh my God, guys, I practically just pushed out all of this in one go. I had a discussion with a Destiel hater on tumblr this evening (I know I just shouldn't let them pull me into arguments, but I can't help it ok, not with someone calling Cas abusive and putting Dean in the hetero box, no fucking way - oh damn, I'm already doing it again, I'm sorry, I'll stop now). Anyway, it just got me riled up so much that I had to flee into the comforting realm of fanfic. So then this happened. Dunno if my agitation made it better or worse, but well. It certainly helped the speed of my writing bc I definitely didn't plan to finish this chapter today. But good for you, I guess!

I. Am. So. Fucking. Nervous. Dammit. Please, please, like it. And if you don't...maybe just lie and pretend you did? No, don't, but...urgh, I just want you to like it really badly. Nevermind, I'm fine.

Oh, yeah, almost forgot. I'm sorry for the alternating PoV in this one...I usually try to keep it consistent but I just couldn't make it work for me any other way. It's mostly just the beginning and the end where I switched, but...yeah. Just so you're warned. Hope it won't be too confusing and no one's too annoyed with it xD

~oOo~oOo~oOo~

Cas stands in the room like a lost puppy.

Awkward.

Dean has no clue how to begin this. He just knows it won't work like this - he a mental mess on the edge of his bed before they even started, Cas standing at the door like he's only waiting for Dean to fuck up so bad he can grab the handle and flee.

"Look, man, this is gonna take a while so maybe you wanna-"

Dean gestures to a chair, the same that he's told Cas not to sit on a few nights ago, but he can't even think about Cas sitting with him on his bed right now, he really has enough shit going on to distract him, thank you very much. To his relief, Cas follows without a word, silently crosses the room and shrugs his coat and suit jacket off and places them over the chair's back - and damn this has no right to be so hot, like why is this hot at all, come on, Dean. Oh wow, you're gonna see him in a long-sleeved shirt now- ohmygod calm down, what the hell-

"Dean." Cas is shifting uncomfortably, still on his feet. He seems lost without the usual armour of his coat. His eyes wander around restlessly before they're caught by the opposite wall. The wall that still has red marks and wet patches decorating it. Dean follows his gaze and curses himself. How the fuck could he forget that before bringing Cas here, he's so stupid, fuck-

"Dean, did you- Is this how-?"

"I-" He just breaks off. What can he say, anyway? It's all too obvious. Why the hell didn't he think of making his room presentable first? Ah yes. Because he hadn't planned for Cas to be here now, to do this now, that's why. "That's not what we're here for, Cas", he simply states evasively. "It's healed now. You fixed it. I'm good." You always have to fix what I fucked up.

Dean looks anywhere but at Cas, feigning interest in the blank white walls. The ones that aren't splashed with the undeniable display of his shame, that is.

It's one of those moments Dean is reminded that Cas is an angel. All that power that resides under the silent cover of his vessel. He's like lightning in a bottle. Sparkling and electric and enticing. Beautiful. Dangerous. Cas had been created millennia ago, had been on earth for over ten years, but he could still be so awkward (and adorable) at times that Dean forgets that he's that old supernatural being.

And here they are with Dean -cool, tough, confident 'best hunter there ever was' Dean- palms sweating as he tries to talk about feeling that scare the hell out of him. And Cas, the social awkwardness made flesh, all calm and collected.