[ cas just shakes his head. of course it wasn't supposed to go this way. it was never supposed to go this way. but if it's one thing that cas has learned since meeting sam and dean, it's that things so rarely ever do go the way you envision. what's that human saying? the best laid plans of mice and men?
to this day, cas still doesn't have any idea what the mice have to do with it, but the point still stands. what happened.. there's no fixing it, and there's no use griping over it, either. cas will carry his regrets with him forever, but it's about time he started focusing on what's right in front of him. he's always been too pragmatic for his own good.
his brow furrows, though, once dean goes on. ]
I'm right here, Dean.
[ not lost, and not going anywhere. cas frowns in that sort of thoughtful way, his eyes hooded when he lifts them to dean's face. ]
And it wasn't for nothing. Don't cheapen it like that. We fought as hard as we could, and you know.. there's merit in that. To the very end, you gave it your all.
It's a fact that Dean wants to throw down so badly it hurts, as if he hasn't said it already, as if Cas somehow doesn't know. But he knows he does, that saying it again won't suddenly make it have the right kind of weight, the kind of meaning he needs to give it that will suddenly break him free from the torment of his failure. Because Dean? Dean is a sore loser, and someone who still can't see past his failures to the other side.
It doesn't help matters that his choice was the one that shoved Cas into his own death, and Dean can do nothing but sit in that. Can do nothing but stare at Cas like he might vanish on the spot, a perfect image of the damage he caused.
Even if Cas is here, even if he thinks he isn't going anywhere, Dean is sure he knows different. Because what could happen once could happen again and all Dean can think is he's not damn well letting it. He's not letting his own mistakes destroy what they have, and he's not losing Cas to a failed mission. He won't, he can't, there's no way.
Jaw set stubbornly, Dean just stares back, trying to find words he can offer, trying to find something beyond the meaning set behind his eyes. ]
[ cas holds dean's glance for a good long while, something unreadable ghosting behind his eyes - something like pain, perhaps, or loss, or deeper furious worthlessness. cas had known right away what dean had meant for him the moment he sent them through those doors; he wouldn't make it out alive. he was fodder. he'd give his life and get shredded by crotes and demons like lumber fed into a wood chipper, for just one narrow shot at bringing down the devil.
he'd made his peace with it, honestly. from the moment he fell, cas had been ready to give up his life for the greater good if necessary, willing to give everything he had to attempt to set things right. he's still willing to do that.
.. but something about dean's face, his eyes, about being sacrificed - it had seemed so easy for him. there'd been no goodbyes, no thank yous, no anything, and the selfish, proud side of him had been offended by that, hurt by it, thought maybe he deserved more from dean for all he had given up for him. some.. recognition for all they'd been through together, for the final sacrifice he was willing to make, ready to die at dean's behest, but he hadn't gotten anything, just a dead-eyed stare and a cold death sentence.
so to get that now - cas isn't really sure how to parse it, or even what to make of it. he only has to assume that dean's got a long list of regrets, like all the rest of them. ]
Yeah, well. [ he starts with a shrug, glancing away at last, toward the floor with hooded eyes. ] I was happy to do it. You know that. Whatever it is you need from me, Dean, you know I'll always give it.
[ He was ashamed. Ashamed of how badly he wanted to win, of what it was going to take to do what he thought would kill the Devil. Dean hadn't wanted any of it to end up the way it had and to finally have to realize who would need to die so he could finish the task - it was enough to kill him entirely. Too many parts of him were already dead but this, this would finish him off.
And he'd known that, but hadn't done a single thing to change it. He hadn't wanted to see the way Cas would look when he told him, hadn't wanted to have that conversation. It would have been too much to cope with and so he simply didn't give Cas what he deserved, killing himself instead by ounces.
That's not to say it was the right choice; Dean doesn't know what would be at this point. It's why he can't stand the idea now that he was ever the leader of their little pack, a man who was given the privilege to make decisions, ones that would get far too many people killed. Those lives were in his hands, Cas' most of all. And he'd fed him to the flames, tossed him under, given him away when all Dean ever wants is to keep him close.
Dean doesn't know what else to do in the moment, watching Cas turn away, the shrug of his shoulder, all indication that it means by far more for Cas than he wants it to. It's not as if it doesn't to Dean, he just doesn't know what to do with it, how to make it better, if it's even possible. And besides, there's another question within that, and Dean scrubs at his face for a moment, trying to suss out what he might even thinks he needs anymore. Which he isn't going to surmise within seconds.
Not quite, at least. ]
I used to think I knew what I needed.
[ And now, the only thing he can think of, is Cas himself. ]
[ becoming more or less functionally human has taught cas a great many things. living as a mortal, seeing the world through their eyes, from their perspective.. it's really an entirely alien thing, and only a few years ago, he and dean had been such enormously different creatures that it's really a wonder they became friends and allies at all, and that cas has been able to really come to grips with what it means to be human.
so it's easy for him to answer this way, with a wry sort of smile twisting his mouth. ]
I'm pretty sure no one really knows what they need.
[ heaven knows cas sure doesn't. knows what he wants, sure, but what you want and what you need are not the same things, not mutually exclusive. what cas needs.. damn, he can't even begin to wonder what it might be. probably a good long rest. who knows. he shrugs, nudging dean's shoulder with his own, trying to keep things light. ]
[ Dean's not sure - he's guessing that somewhere out there are people that know what it is they're looking for. Really and truly know; haven't somehow gotten all fucked up in all the other crap. Someone has to at least, they cant all be floundering in the way Dean's always seen. But maybe that's just a dream, and idea of a life he never got to lead. Dean doesn't know.
Considering he's fairly sure the real problem is whether or not you deserve whatever it is you need. And in his case, he's not so sure he does. But that's always been the case, for his whole damn life, not just since the Apocalypse threw down on their world. He wasn't sure he deserved any of it years ago, but now? No even more so.
Rolling his eyes, Dean bumps back, putting his weight behind the gesture- fully aware that he's not always the best at keeping things toned down. But he can attempt it, at least. ]
Yeah, well- I gotta worry about something.
[ He's spent the past five years worrying relentlessly, he doesn't know how to stop. ]
[ maybe that's true, but cas doesn't think it's most people, thinks the majority of humans just stumble their way through life, trying to do their best, to achieve what they can, to live up to some sort of code. there are likely the privileged few with conviction enough to know exactly what it is they want, but in the end, human beings are so complex, there are so many moving parts..
well, he has to commend those that do really know what it is they want out of life, though he thinks perhaps that is a less colorful way to exist.
nevertheless, dean's not so far gone that he can't be a little playful, at least in his own begrudging way, and cas smiles again when he feels that rough nudge, then exhales hard and rattling, like he's dropping a weight. this conversation might not have been easy, still isn't settling right in his ears, but at least it's done, and he knows everything that he needs to know. ]
Or what? You gonna implode if you don't have something to fuss over, huh?
[ It's true, Dean isn't completely frozen solid, though at times he'd much prefer if everyone thought he was simply for his own benefit. It makes it easier on him to believe it just as much, to convince himself he's the big man on campus that doesn't have to feel. It's simpler that way, everything hurts less, and he wouldn't have to be sitting here steeping in a mess of his own emotions.
And yet here he is, doing just that. A thing he used to do by far more often.
But sometimes, Dean forgets just what a comfort Cas is. What a comfort he's always been, and has only grown to become even more so. Dean gets a little too dead behind the eyes some days, convinces himself a little too well that he doesn't need to feel and always ends up in the wrong place because of it. He can't help but curse himself for it now, hear the heaviness in Cas' breath and tell himself that he did this. He built these walls and he buried himself within them.
Which is why he feels the impetus just that much more loudly to do something about it, lifting a careful palm to Cas' shoulder, touch smoothing sideways. It's meant to be something of an apology, all the things Dean hasn't said yet, the things he probably missed, fucked up, and everything in between. ]
[ not that cas is really one to talk, worrier that he is, but he likes to think that there is a healthy medium, a sound place somewhere in the middle where one can worry enough to be effective while also not driving themselves (and their friends) out of their minds. dean lingers on things, cas knows it, he's always been that way, long before the apocalypse, likely long before cas even knew him, but there's a difference between holding loosely onto some regrets, and beating a dead horse until it's a bloody heap.
but he won't lecture dean. not really. never really would. he can only plant seeds and nurture them, hope they take root, and if they don't, he tries again.
for now, though, cas just yawns and stretches his arms out ahead of him until his spine gives a satisfying pop, before he's unfolding himself to rise up to his feet again, but not before smiling warm and patting dean's knuckles where they linger on his shoulder. ]
Anyway, I'm beat. I'll leave you to uh, settle in.
[ Dean has always been and will always be one to think something over until he's decimated it completely. And even then, he'll continue, worrying and mulling and regretting until there's nothing left, until all he's left with are the remnants of what he was so upset about to begin with. It's in his nature to find ways to blame himself, to take on the weight and the guilt, a well worn path that was constructed for him in his youth and he simply took on because what else was he supposed to do?
And all of this is no different. He's still regretful, still apologetic, still wondering why he feels like the world has ended despite how they're both right here.
But Dean finds himself self conscious in an instant as Cas begins to move about, feeling far too big for his own skin and quantifiably nervous. He finally pulls back his hand to plop his palms against his knees, staring off at nothing in particular for a moment before he nods and looks to Cas. ]
[ it's more than obvious to cas's eyes that dean's jittery, and cas can easily commiserate with the sensation of not fitting into your skin, feeling that itch; sometimes he still feels it, isn't sure it'll ever go away.
so he finds it difficult to resist the urge to reach out and touch, to smooth a hand through dean's hair in a way he knows might be comforting, but dean's edgy, he's tight and wound up, like a cornered animal, and cas knows when not to overstep his bounds. there was once a time when dean was a touchy-feely guy, when he was always clapping cas's shoulder or tugging at his tie, being physical in a way that just seemed so natural and cas was too awkward then, too clumsy in his vessel to be able to properly appreciate it.
sometimes it still comes through, dean's warmth, but it's a guttering candle flame in comparison with the inviting, roaring hearth it once was; dean's gotten colder, distant, gone to places even cas can't reach. but then, they all had, all of them back home, no one could live through what they endured without losing something important and precious along the way. ]
Yeah, yeah.
[ he says, shrugging boneless and easy, before he's meandering to the door and pausing halfway through to glance back toward him. ]
[ Sometimes Dean feels as if he's two people. The man he used to be, the one that came before, and the thing he is now, a man who no longer knows how to move through the world in quite the same way. And Dean is sure of it, knows that at times they compete for space in a way that leaves him to flicker between worlds, leaves him uncomfortable and exposed, not knowing where to put his hands or which words he should let slip free. It's as if it peels back spaces that haven't been seen for years, only to have them shut down again in an instant, Dean left with nothing but the remnants of actions he used to slide into out of sheer habit.
But it makes him uncomfortable, pulls him too tight, and he always ends up right in the same place that he'd left. The one where he simply doesn't. Doesn't know how or what to do or how to respond, and so he holds himself back, amplified and waiting for the next opportunity to do it all over again. To fail and close himself off, to where he doesn't have to question his motives simply because they weren't there to begin with.
It doesn't mean that he doesn't want. Because he does. Prolifically. He just doesn't know how to say it when he gets caught up in the delivery.
Lifting his gaze back to Cas, all Dean feels is that incremental creeping of implosion, the one where he wants to bury himself somewhere deep until it dies down. He never quite knows what it is, just knows he can't do anything about it, and so he nods and tries to push his own thoughts away. ]
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no subject
Date: 3 Jun 2016 07:21 (UTC)to this day, cas still doesn't have any idea what the mice have to do with it, but the point still stands. what happened.. there's no fixing it, and there's no use griping over it, either. cas will carry his regrets with him forever, but it's about time he started focusing on what's right in front of him. he's always been too pragmatic for his own good.
his brow furrows, though, once dean goes on. ]
I'm right here, Dean.
[ not lost, and not going anywhere. cas frowns in that sort of thoughtful way, his eyes hooded when he lifts them to dean's face. ]
And it wasn't for nothing. Don't cheapen it like that. We fought as hard as we could, and you know.. there's merit in that. To the very end, you gave it your all.
no subject
Date: 3 Jun 2016 12:52 (UTC)It's a fact that Dean wants to throw down so badly it hurts, as if he hasn't said it already, as if Cas somehow doesn't know. But he knows he does, that saying it again won't suddenly make it have the right kind of weight, the kind of meaning he needs to give it that will suddenly break him free from the torment of his failure. Because Dean? Dean is a sore loser, and someone who still can't see past his failures to the other side.
It doesn't help matters that his choice was the one that shoved Cas into his own death, and Dean can do nothing but sit in that. Can do nothing but stare at Cas like he might vanish on the spot, a perfect image of the damage he caused.
Even if Cas is here, even if he thinks he isn't going anywhere, Dean is sure he knows different. Because what could happen once could happen again and all Dean can think is he's not damn well letting it. He's not letting his own mistakes destroy what they have, and he's not losing Cas to a failed mission. He won't, he can't, there's no way.
Jaw set stubbornly, Dean just stares back, trying to find words he can offer, trying to find something beyond the meaning set behind his eyes. ]
I couldn't have done it without you.
no subject
Date: 4 Jun 2016 10:41 (UTC)he'd made his peace with it, honestly. from the moment he fell, cas had been ready to give up his life for the greater good if necessary, willing to give everything he had to attempt to set things right. he's still willing to do that.
.. but something about dean's face, his eyes, about being sacrificed - it had seemed so easy for him. there'd been no goodbyes, no thank yous, no anything, and the selfish, proud side of him had been offended by that, hurt by it, thought maybe he deserved more from dean for all he had given up for him. some.. recognition for all they'd been through together, for the final sacrifice he was willing to make, ready to die at dean's behest, but he hadn't gotten anything, just a dead-eyed stare and a cold death sentence.
so to get that now - cas isn't really sure how to parse it, or even what to make of it. he only has to assume that dean's got a long list of regrets, like all the rest of them. ]
Yeah, well. [ he starts with a shrug, glancing away at last, toward the floor with hooded eyes. ] I was happy to do it. You know that. Whatever it is you need from me, Dean, you know I'll always give it.
no subject
Date: 4 Jun 2016 12:23 (UTC)And he'd known that, but hadn't done a single thing to change it. He hadn't wanted to see the way Cas would look when he told him, hadn't wanted to have that conversation. It would have been too much to cope with and so he simply didn't give Cas what he deserved, killing himself instead by ounces.
That's not to say it was the right choice; Dean doesn't know what would be at this point. It's why he can't stand the idea now that he was ever the leader of their little pack, a man who was given the privilege to make decisions, ones that would get far too many people killed. Those lives were in his hands, Cas' most of all. And he'd fed him to the flames, tossed him under, given him away when all Dean ever wants is to keep him close.
Dean doesn't know what else to do in the moment, watching Cas turn away, the shrug of his shoulder, all indication that it means by far more for Cas than he wants it to. It's not as if it doesn't to Dean, he just doesn't know what to do with it, how to make it better, if it's even possible. And besides, there's another question within that, and Dean scrubs at his face for a moment, trying to suss out what he might even thinks he needs anymore. Which he isn't going to surmise within seconds.
Not quite, at least. ]
I used to think I knew what I needed.
[ And now, the only thing he can think of, is Cas himself. ]
no subject
Date: 5 Jun 2016 12:38 (UTC)so it's easy for him to answer this way, with a wry sort of smile twisting his mouth. ]
I'm pretty sure no one really knows what they need.
[ heaven knows cas sure doesn't. knows what he wants, sure, but what you want and what you need are not the same things, not mutually exclusive. what cas needs.. damn, he can't even begin to wonder what it might be. probably a good long rest. who knows. he shrugs, nudging dean's shoulder with his own, trying to keep things light. ]
So hey, try not to worry about it so much, huh?
no subject
Date: 5 Jun 2016 12:52 (UTC)Considering he's fairly sure the real problem is whether or not you deserve whatever it is you need. And in his case, he's not so sure he does. But that's always been the case, for his whole damn life, not just since the Apocalypse threw down on their world. He wasn't sure he deserved any of it years ago, but now? No even more so.
Rolling his eyes, Dean bumps back, putting his weight behind the gesture- fully aware that he's not always the best at keeping things toned down. But he can attempt it, at least. ]
Yeah, well- I gotta worry about something.
[ He's spent the past five years worrying relentlessly, he doesn't know how to stop. ]
no subject
Date: 6 Jun 2016 08:05 (UTC)well, he has to commend those that do really know what it is they want out of life, though he thinks perhaps that is a less colorful way to exist.
nevertheless, dean's not so far gone that he can't be a little playful, at least in his own begrudging way, and cas smiles again when he feels that rough nudge, then exhales hard and rattling, like he's dropping a weight. this conversation might not have been easy, still isn't settling right in his ears, but at least it's done, and he knows everything that he needs to know. ]
Or what? You gonna implode if you don't have something to fuss over, huh?
no subject
Date: 6 Jun 2016 12:15 (UTC)And yet here he is, doing just that. A thing he used to do by far more often.
But sometimes, Dean forgets just what a comfort Cas is. What a comfort he's always been, and has only grown to become even more so. Dean gets a little too dead behind the eyes some days, convinces himself a little too well that he doesn't need to feel and always ends up in the wrong place because of it. He can't help but curse himself for it now, hear the heaviness in Cas' breath and tell himself that he did this. He built these walls and he buried himself within them.
Which is why he feels the impetus just that much more loudly to do something about it, lifting a careful palm to Cas' shoulder, touch smoothing sideways. It's meant to be something of an apology, all the things Dean hasn't said yet, the things he probably missed, fucked up, and everything in between. ]
Haven't had the chance to try it out.
no subject
Date: 7 Jun 2016 06:05 (UTC)[ not that cas is really one to talk, worrier that he is, but he likes to think that there is a healthy medium, a sound place somewhere in the middle where one can worry enough to be effective while also not driving themselves (and their friends) out of their minds. dean lingers on things, cas knows it, he's always been that way, long before the apocalypse, likely long before cas even knew him, but there's a difference between holding loosely onto some regrets, and beating a dead horse until it's a bloody heap.
but he won't lecture dean. not really. never really would. he can only plant seeds and nurture them, hope they take root, and if they don't, he tries again.
for now, though, cas just yawns and stretches his arms out ahead of him until his spine gives a satisfying pop, before he's unfolding himself to rise up to his feet again, but not before smiling warm and patting dean's knuckles where they linger on his shoulder. ]
Anyway, I'm beat. I'll leave you to uh, settle in.
no subject
Date: 7 Jun 2016 12:32 (UTC)And all of this is no different. He's still regretful, still apologetic, still wondering why he feels like the world has ended despite how they're both right here.
But Dean finds himself self conscious in an instant as Cas begins to move about, feeling far too big for his own skin and quantifiably nervous. He finally pulls back his hand to plop his palms against his knees, staring off at nothing in particular for a moment before he nods and looks to Cas. ]
You know where the door is.
no subject
Date: 8 Jun 2016 05:42 (UTC)so he finds it difficult to resist the urge to reach out and touch, to smooth a hand through dean's hair in a way he knows might be comforting, but dean's edgy, he's tight and wound up, like a cornered animal, and cas knows when not to overstep his bounds. there was once a time when dean was a touchy-feely guy, when he was always clapping cas's shoulder or tugging at his tie, being physical in a way that just seemed so natural and cas was too awkward then, too clumsy in his vessel to be able to properly appreciate it.
sometimes it still comes through, dean's warmth, but it's a guttering candle flame in comparison with the inviting, roaring hearth it once was; dean's gotten colder, distant, gone to places even cas can't reach. but then, they all had, all of them back home, no one could live through what they endured without losing something important and precious along the way. ]
Yeah, yeah.
[ he says, shrugging boneless and easy, before he's meandering to the door and pausing halfway through to glance back toward him. ]
Anything you need, you know where to find me.
no subject
Date: 8 Jun 2016 11:26 (UTC)But it makes him uncomfortable, pulls him too tight, and he always ends up right in the same place that he'd left. The one where he simply doesn't. Doesn't know how or what to do or how to respond, and so he holds himself back, amplified and waiting for the next opportunity to do it all over again. To fail and close himself off, to where he doesn't have to question his motives simply because they weren't there to begin with.
It doesn't mean that he doesn't want. Because he does. Prolifically. He just doesn't know how to say it when he gets caught up in the delivery.
Lifting his gaze back to Cas, all Dean feels is that incremental creeping of implosion, the one where he wants to bury himself somewhere deep until it dies down. He never quite knows what it is, just knows he can't do anything about it, and so he nods and tries to push his own thoughts away. ]
I know.