into the light - destiel

chapter twelve

~cas POV~

pacing the kitchen in the bunker, cas tapped his fingers along the various tabletop surfaces.
his tie was askew, and his hair was ruffled up messily on top of his head.
his blue eyes darted around the room, up, down, up, down, never staying in one place for longer than a few seconds.

I have to talk to Dean. it's been three days...
why hasn't Dean spoken to me? did I do something wrong? did I scare him away?

the Angel began to breathe heavily, his heart pounding and his mind going into overdrive. thoughts were racing through his head madly, almost driving him insane.

go talk to Dean!
dean doesn't want to talk to you.
why doesn't he love you like you love him?
but he does love you! he admitted it!
Angels aren't supposed to feel this way.
you have failed father. he would be so ashamed of you.

cas abruptly stopped walked, directly in the centre of the kitchen.

'father would not be ashamed. I have not failed...myself and the Winchesters, we stopped the apocalypse. we saved billions of lives. father, if you're listening...know that I do not wish to offend or disgrace you. I just wish for happiness...I'm not supposed to feel. but I do...I feel so strongly. especially about Dean...please father, just let Dean be truly happy.'

castiel finished talking to himself, his voice fading from a low mutter into silence. he stared absently at the wall, his thoughts stopping just as suddenly as they had started.

he could feel deans longing way before Dean was aware he was even longing for the angel.

cas felt it in his heart, he felt it in his very essence. whenever Dean felt strong emotions, like love, rage, betrayal, longing, and so many more that he didn't understand, cas felt it in his heart.

he could feel it now.
longing.
Dean was longing for cas, but there was a sense of urgency this time. this wasn't the slow, achy longing cas was used to feeling from Dean. this was a short sharp pain, right above his heart, a viscous and all too apparent need for the Angel.

cas zapped himself from the kitchen right to deans room, and as his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw the hunter, lying in bed, wrapped in his sheets like a baby.

tilting his head to the side in confusion and why the hunter found his position comfortable, the Angel coughed, then spoke.

'dean? what's wrong?'

~deans POV~

three days. it's been three fucking days, and I still haven't spoken to cas.
oh my god...he doesn't want to talk. he's embarrassed...about this...mess. that's what it is. I embarrass him. he can't be bothered with it...he doesn't love me. he never will. I was just kidding myself. lying to myself, to make things seem better. fuckin' stupid. stupid, stupid, STUPID!

'Dean? what's wrong?'

Dean whipped his bedsheets from off his head faster than anything the Angel had ever seen.

'nothing! nothing. nothing's wrong. I'm fine, I'm okay. are you okay? stupid question. but are you?'
'dean, calm down. you're breathing rather fast, it's going to make you sick. yes, I'm fine.  can we talk?'
'sure, I guess. if you want to? you don't have to, not if you don't want to.'
'I want to.'