The nest was relatively easy to track down. A few hours research in the town's library records and online real estate and they found an abandoned house surrounded by woods (how original Dean thought) near both previous attacks.
A quick scope of the area and Dean was certain they had the right spot.
Dean raised his machete with one hand and signalled to Cas with the other. Together they slowly inched forward straining their ears for any noises. Dean could hear nothing but his own breath far too steady for someone in his situation. Inching his way to the front door, Dean waved Cas behind him.
Lifting his hand to his mouth Dean whispered, quiet enough that even he himself was unable to hear it “One, Two, Three”. He surged forward using his shoulder to throw the door inward. Blinking he struggled to take in the space before, the sudden loss of light. When his eyes cleared he only had several seconds to take in the small room before him, against one wall there was a hideously patterned floral couch with stains he didn’t want to know where they came from, a Tv on the other and a small kitchen tucked in the corner and off to the side two doors. Before a girl was running at him, arms outstretched, sharp needle-like fangs, already barred.
Dean stepped forward swinging, both hands on the knife as he cut through her head. He barely had time to wipe the blood off his forehead, before there was another vamp running at him screaming. Amateur. Never announce your attack if you're hoping for the element of surprise. The vampire grabbed his knife and Dean pulled the arm linking them forward using his strength to elbow him in the ribs successfully pulling his knife back. The vampire took a step back preparing for another strike, but Dean had managed to swing his blade through his neck before he could.
Dean turned to see Cas struggling to fight a tall muscular man that had wrapped an arm around Cas from behind. Dean stepped forward, but was stopped by a sudden weight on his back. One of the little fuckers had jumped on his back and was now trying to wrap his hands around his neck. Dean fell letting the added weight drop them both to the floor satisfied by the grunt the vamp below him made. Hopefully the creature had cushioned his fall enough he wouldn’t have to worry about his back tomorrow. He struggled to push himself up, giving the vamp time to grab his arm flipping him onto his back. He leered opening his mouth wide enough that Dean could see all of his teeth. Moving. He was moving forward, thankfully Dean still had his machete. He swung upward closing his eyes and lips tightly waiting for the sound of impact. A loud thud echoed along the wood floor followed by Dea’s grunting as the body collapsed on top of him. Wiggling, he struggled to roll the full grown man off his chest.
Pulling himself upward, Dean scanned the area. Cas was on the other side of the room crouched over the decapitated body of the man he was struggling to fight. There was another vamp slowing inching her way towards him from behind, metal glinting in her hand.
“Cas!!” Dean screamed as he ran, pushing his limbs as fast as he could. Cas looked up. The girl’s eyes were paranoid darting between Dean and Cas as she stepped forward knowing she’d lost the element of surprise. She raised the blade, but before she could swipe downwards, Dean swung putting all his force into his arms, chopping off her head.
Dropping his blade, Dean grabbed the front of his shirt struggling to breath. He looked down at Cas where he was still crouched on the floor. If he was a couple seconds later, Cas could be. Dean’s vision blurred and he struggled not to topple over. Cas could have been. He blinked trying to clear the images frantically appearing in his head. The red that bloomed across Cas’ chest, the crumbling of his limbs as his body fell to the ground, the etching in the earth of his beautiful wings that Dean had always secretly wondered what they looked and now hoped he had never known. And blue. Not the comforting blue of Cas’ eyes that reminded him of warmth and summer, but the unnaturally blue of Cas’ grace as it burned through his eyes and mouth. The blue that glowed luminescent and bright in a way no human thing ever could. The blue that stayed behind Dean’s eyelids as he closed his eyes.
“Dean?” Cas spook his voice quiet and concerned. Dean startled looking down staring in confusion, before releasing that Cas must have stood up. Drawing his eyes upward he saw Cas staring at him. Alive, Dean reminded himself. He’s alive. The images in his head were nothing but pictures. But Dean knew that wasn’t true, they weren’t pictures or baseless fears they were memories, because that was real and it had happened. Dean was certain. He’d never be able to forget the weight of Cas’ body in his arms of the dreary lifelessness in the days that followed.
Cas gently placed his hand on his shoulder startling Dean. “Dean are you alright?”
Dean drew his eyes back to Cas frantically searching for any sign of life, soaking in the beautiful natural blue of his eyes, letting himself drown in their shallow waters desperate to let it wash away the other unnatural blue.
“Yeah…” Dean's voice was rough and gravely as he shook his head attempting to clear his thoughts. “I’m fine… Everything’s fine.”
“Dean,” Cas let his arm fall to Dean’s side, before hesitantly wrapping it around Dean drawing him closer. “You do not have to lie to me.”
Dean stared at Cas, eyes wide, before letting himself lean on the other man drawing his own arms around his waist. “I...I…” Dean closed, breathing deeply. “You were… and she was… and you almost and…” Dean choked off, burrowing his head into Cas neck.
“I know." Cas whispered quietly, head tilted towards Dean.
Normally, Dean would have pushed Cas away with a “no chick flick moments.” But he doesn’t, he leans closer to Cas burrowing his head into his neck and lets himself cry. He wondered briefly what his dad would think of him now. How pathetic he’s being leaning on someone crying when nothing even happened. But then he thinks of Sam and knows that it doesn’t matter what his dad would think, because Sam would be proud that he was letting himself feel, that he was crying instead of turning his sadness into anger. He was accepting comfort from others rather than hiding behind violence.
He held Cas tightly and let himself for the first time in a long time feel everything he’d pushed away. When Cas returned he was ecstatic, but it didn’t fix everything. He was still traumatised, haunted by the thought of life without Cas. Cas was alive now, but that didn’t mean he was going to stay that way forever. Having to try to live without him, he realised he couldn’t. He needed Cas, hell he still needs him. It seemed stupid though to fall into these fears, to mourn someone alive and standing in front of him. So, he pushed his thoughts away and chose to only think about the positives. But here in this falling apart abandoned house in the woods littered with bodies, he lets Cas take his weight.
Dean turned eyes searching for Cas, “I can’t live without you. Not again.”
Cas looks back at Dean. “I’m here.”
There’s warmth in Dean’s chest. He wants to tell Cas. He should tell Cas. Now seems as good a time as any, but when he opens his mouth he realises Cas is already speaking.
“We should head back. It’s getting late and you should get some rest.”
Cas lowered his arms stepping away from Dean. Dean shivered already missing the warmth. Unsure what he should do with his arms, Dean lifted them, wrapping them around himself before giving up and dropping them altogether. coughing, he takes a couple steps back. “Yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “we should head back to the motel and we can start driving back to the bunker first thing in the morning.”
Cas nodded heading for the exit. Dean watched him walk away for several seconds, before he began to follow.
***
“Coffee?” Dean groaned, hands stretching above his face in a desperate attempt to shield himself from the light.
Rubbing his hand down his face, Dean yawned “What?”
“Coffee." Cas repeated, holding out the cheap paper cup toward Dean.
Dean reached forward grabbing the coffee from Cas. “Thanks.”
Dean stared at Cas trying and failing to calm the beating of his heart. He’s alive. God Dean rubs his hand down his face; who knew Sam was right it was too early to go back on the case not for Cas, but himself. Was he ever going to be able to get rid of his fear of losing him? Was he ever going to be able to think rationally around the other man? But Dean remembered the pain of the days following Cas’ death and conceded that he was always going to worry about him.
***
The drive back to the bunker was long and quiet, only the bumps of the road and the rumbling of baby’s engine to keep them company. Dean kept finding himself turning to look at Cas’ profile and the strong set of his jaw.
He sighed, opening his mouth before closing it and shaking his head, unsure of what to say. There were so many thoughts rushing through his head, images of the past, the good and the bad between him and Cas. Sam’s words before he left. He wasn’t sure what to say.
He felt compelled to explain to Cas why he reacted the way he had, the fear he’d felt when the girl stood over him blade glinting in the dark.
But as he looked back over to Cas’ he realized he didn’t have to. Cas understood him in ways few others ever had.
If his gaze drew to Cas’ to insure that the man really was beside him then no one needed to know. At least not at that moment. The time would come and Dean would tell Cas, but in this instant he was content to sit in the silence with nothing but stolen glances ensuring his friend was still by his side.