The Last Spark

Chapter 6

This look was capable of anything, Cas was sure of it. Eyes wide open, eyebrows raised in surprise, long brown eyelashes - all of this created an incredibly harmonious look, so skillfully burning through Cas. Castiel felt a burst of flames as he touched Dean's prickly cheeks, as their eyes met, as Cas finally said what he was thinking.
Something seemed to click in his head, realizing everything that had just happened. He literally burst into tears in front of Dean, yelled at him and accused him of just wanting to take care of Cas in return.

Why did he do it? What's the point of this?

- Cas? - Dean finally broke the silence. The sound of his whispering seemed surprisingly loud compared to the silence that reigned around them, which made Castiel jerk in surprise and automatically look up. With tears in his eyes, the surroundings blurred into colored outlines, even Dean looked like a fuzzy silhouette sitting opposite.

- Hey, why are you crying? - Dean continued, and Castiel could no longer restrain himself. He pulled his arms further away from Dean's cheeks, wrapping them around his neck, gripping him as tightly as a drowning man would grab onto a lifebuoy. Burying his head in his neck, he squeezed even tighter and, inhaling the familiar scent, made a plaintive sound.

- Hey, shh, it's okay, it's alright, don't cry. Come here... - he hugged back. His strong arms wrapped around the angel's waist, pressing him close. Cas was bathed in warmth, a special kind of warmth, just like his home in heaven. Infinite and absolute.

Dean felt like home.

Calmness seemed to immediately start flowing through his veins, giving his brain the command to stop crying, recover, regain control of his mind. Dean paused again, listening to the sobbing fading and leaving until silence occupied the room yet again. Cas's breathing returned to normal and he was finally able to say:

- I hate it when you belittle yourself and say that you are not worthy of something. It's not true. It's not like that at all.
Dean let out a small chuckle, burying himself in Castiel's hair. In response, Cas's body got covered in goosebumps, causing him to flinch and hide his flushed face so that Dean couldn't notice anything.

- Promise me you won't do that again. It hurts me to see you do this to yourself.

- Cas... I...

- Please promise me this, - Castiel pulled himself out of the embrace and sat down again, right across from Dean, trying to read the emotions on his face. In response Dean smiled faintly and nodded:

- I promise.

The next couple of days were pretty fun for Cas. Dean began to actually spend more time relaxing, taking frequent breaks from work, and no longer complaining about tea at all. He nevertheless could feel sick and took not only antibiotics, but also headache painkillers. But such days were gradually reduced, becoming a mere exception, and not a constant. The Monopoly evening had to be shortened a little so that they both could go to bed earlier. Cas at first missed these countless hours of battles with cards and fake money, but seeing Dean refreshed and full of energy every morning, demolished this slight sadness in less then a second.

Castiel gradually started to prepare new dishes in case Dean could eat something except a pie. Even though Dean hadn't complained about such a varied menu, Cas couldn't help but think about how harmful to his health it was to eat only pies for a week. Therefore, a fridge first began to be replenished with a variety of salads and light snacks, and some time later with something more serious, like the soup version number two.

Things were starting to improve for Sam, too. As Castiel heard from Dean's phone conversations, when his shouting could have been heard from any corner of the bunker. He was certainly glad that these "bastards who wounded Cas" would finally get what they deserved, apparently Sam got out on a clear trail and was already in the home stretch.