but i'm singing like a bird about it now [ ch: seven ]

Dean realized the other day that he’s finally okay with Cas healing him again, physically. Cas explained what he meant when he said Dean had humanized him. How the first thing Dean wanted, even if he didn’t remember Cas in The Pit, was to name him. Sure, Anna had called him Cas but Cas had taken to the nickname out of a longing and a yearning to be Dean’s before he understood fully; because that’s a human thing to do. To yearn for something that he only knew of a human desiring was a desire to be humanized and by someone he loved.

Later, he realized he knew Dean didn’t keep him like a pet but like his person. Apparently, one of the things Cas had binge-watched at some point was Grey’s Anatomy which checks out; of course the person who loves him most would learn how not to fuck it up by watching people fuck up love upwards of twelve times to Sunday. Dr. Sexy had much healthier models, Dean protested. Either way, Dean is revelling in this: it's nice to openly love Cas. His ribcage has shaken loose many a confession and his storage locker of feelings is no longer at hoarders level. It’s honest work. It’s nice. The only nice not nice thing is...how he feels about the bunker now...now that they’re victorious Dean realizes he no longer wants to be a warrior, Man of Letters, soldier, instrument, or sword. Who needs a sword when you’ve got a little spoon available? He would honestly rather be a “little spoon” or Cas’ “jetpack.” He likes sleeping on his stomach and feeling Cas half on top. It’s anchoring. Anyway, these are the phrases he and Jack are learning on “Twitter.” Surprisingly they’ve both learned a lot about emotional intelligence and healing from following the accounts Sam suggested.

He’s always been the tech savvy one but now that Sam was dead-set on creating NAHN, the North American Hunters Network, they needed a place to send out coordinates and tips. He also wanted to make sure there were ways to spot supernatural beings that weren’t a threat and resources for those who wanted to live peacefully amongst humans. He wanted to stop the stigma and unnecessary bloodshed. They had lost a lot of hunters over the years, like Travis, who just wanted to kill whatever walked a little funny. And they met supernatural creatures who didn’t always act like monsters, and wanted to live a life of coexistence like Garth and Benny; Sam understood, and wanted things to change. He was tired of their numbers dwindling when they didn't have to.

Dean couldn’t blame him at all. The next generation was coming whether they liked it or not, he had Claire and by extension, Alex and Patience to think about. So he was supportive of Sam also starting a collaborative blog, Charlie was super on board. Sam said that a website would be tricky, with IP tracking and servers that could be shut down and all that. On the plus side, the government would just think the page was a spoof account since Sam also started a “subreddit” or something.

Anyway, speaking of (not) fucking up love, Dean is learning to “re-parent” himself and also apologize to Jack. Now that Jack is basically the new god, they seem a bit above it all and entirely too serene. More often than not now, they give Dean that alien vibe that Cas used to give from time to time. But he’s still doing his best and whenever something comes up in therapy, he tells Jack the new things he’s gonna fix. Jack nods at him like a proud dad which is sometimes off-putting. But role-reveral is kinda the point, that Dean should be okay giving the kid autonomy and free will and all that. He wonders if he’s accidentally parentifying Jack but then rationalizes...the kid is God, what more damage could I do by healing?

His therapist suggested re-associating experiences or something so he took Jack fishing and told the kid he’s proud of them a bunch of times. More than my dad ever did but not enough... it was a start, one Jack seemed pleased with. Apparently it’s helping them be more confident in their designs and decisions up in heaven. Cas filled him in one day on some of the changes and commented on it. They both were sitting in the Dean Cave, on the lover's couch (Sam's words, not Dean's), when Cas decided to casually ask if, when Dean arrives in heaven, would he like the bunker to be there or perhaps a home of his own design, perhaps the one from their dream world. It’s then that Dean can no longer take it and blurts out, "I wanna move out." He ducks his head and continues as Cas looks at him rapt by his next words, "Every time I walk past the door to the dungeon, hell, even being down that hallway, I wanna crawl out of my skin all over again.” He chances a look at Castiel.

Cas considers this for a few moments and then smiles a small smile while saying, "You know, I've always adored poetry, music, and more recently movies and art districts. I've been listening to music a lot when you're asleep and would love to live somewhere where I could have a windowsill garden and access to a painting studio of sorts. So...I'll go with you, wherever there is access to those things. Anywhere in the world, Dean. I could take you anywhere. You don't even have to worry about distance to Sam and the others, I could be your international Lyft driver." Cas wears a proud and self-satisfied smile. Dean thought this was gonna be the start of a really tough conversation, those he was used to. He's coming to realize that butting heads is something he and Cas only did because they didn't talk enough. Now that they're speaking more regularly through all of their emotional states it comes with a scary amount of ease. Dean is still amazed, almost disbelieving at times.

"You wanna be my world Uber, Cas?" he quips, just to test the waters. He does that a lot less but old habits are tough to break.

"Yes, but first, I'd like to show you something here." Cas relents a little in his smile. "I had wanted to show you earlier but we seemed to have let time get away from us recently, which I honestly like. More than I realized." Dean didn't have any reason to be suspicious, which was also scary somehow.

"Well, what is it?" Dean shifts closer, hoping that will calm the cacophony in his chest.

"A film, I think...you might like the main character but I can't be sure. It's based on a play, actually….”, Cas hesitates, “Actually, the uh, both of the uhm, it was written by...mmh…w—"

"Spit it out, Cas."

"Queer men, older queer men. I'm...I don't know how comfortable or uncomfortable that may be seeing a story told to illustrate a universal experience. It's not—"

Dean interrupts, "Let's do it, let's watch. Is it in the theaters? S’that why you're nervous? To be around people? If you wanna see it, babe, I can elbow past a few homophobes, no problem," Dean adds, in case this will be the Event that Proves to Cas that he’s a Better Man Now.

Cas chuckles, “No, Dean. It’s been out awhile, it just didn’t seem like...your… genre? Preference?” Cas gives him a measured look, somewhere precisely between the one he wore when he called Dean a role model that one time and the many times he elected to go with him into whatever fight they were facing. It just screams I’ll always go with you.

“Well, love, times are a-changin’ I have taste and I’m gonna show it. Just ‘cause it’s not a western or something doesn’t mean I won’t like it,” Dean says, unconvincingly. Cas’ face makes that clear.

“Alright.” The DVD materializes in Cas’ hand and Dean looks at the cover.

“Trippy, haha. Nice, are they brothers?” Dean asks, checking the artwork.

“One man, actually, we initially meet him as a boy.” Dean looks at the actors' faces.

“Damn, that’s one hell of a casting, they look pretty similar. Not to be racist or anything.” Dean wonders distantly if Victor would have liked this film. He thinks about him from time to time, the night they had in the jail, in quiet, in private, but not necessarily in shame.

“While I can’t tell you whether that’s racist, I can tell you that they did absolutely do an excellent job casting, all the actresses and actors are brilliant in this. Most of the actors and creative input came from Black people so I would assume that assumption is null and void.” Dean cocks an eyebrow up,

“Wait, you’ve already seen it?” Dean asks.

“I wanted to make sure it was appropriate.” Cas squirms a little. Dean can’t help but think he has that face he makes when he doesn’t wanna say too much more.

“Did a new rating come out in theaters? ‘Not suitable for newly out guys’ or something?”

Cas rolls his eyes and shakes his head like Dean said something corny which he can admit might be the case.

“I wanted to make sure it spoke to an experience you could relate to,” is all Cas chances. Dean feels the need to hedge again.

“I can relate to the experience of a Black guy, Cas. I’m not an idiot.” Cas puts his own head in his hand.

“Dean...it’s not the race aspect, though some of those experiences will be unique to the characters, it’s more so the reticence of the main character and his reactions to homosocial intimacy and affection. There’s...experiences…he...he faces violence, social and otherwise. I don’t want to trigger you or make you feel shame and I didn’t want the film to do that either. It’s very important to me that you feel safe in your media experience today and you do the same thing for me in some ways when we watch films. I’m just taking a page out of your manual,” Cas states with a newly high chin, like he’s not willing to argue and just wants to enjoy the movie. Dean’ll give him that.

“Okay, okay, yea, okay, that’s fine. Thanks, Cas. Sorry, I just didn’t want you getting the wrong idea about me.” Dean clears his throat and looks down at the disc. “He’s...uh, cute.” He points to the man closer to their age on the right of the split face visual.

Cas chuckles, “Yes, Trevante Rhodes is a very attractive man. So is the man he is based on, an excellent creative and playwright. I think you’d like him.”

“Well, what, did you meet him on your angel business?” Dean asks, willing away feelings of jealousy.

“No, I observed all his other work and made summations based on his writing. Mr. McCraney is a genius,” Cas says like that was an absurd thing to ask. He pauses for a moment and looks at Dean, really looks. Dean wonders distantly how it got so warm in the Cave. “Dean, I only have eyes and love for you above all else. No need to be jealous.” Oh no, he sees me. Dean thinks.

“Right, well, yea, that’s...uh, nice. Thanks. Me too, Cas…me too.” He lifts a hand to stroke the side of Cas’ head and chances a nose kiss. He feels goofy for it but the face Cas makes more than makes up for it.

“Shall we begin?” Cas asks as he gently rises to figure out the DVD situation.

“Yea, go for it. Should I, uh, get popcorn or am I gonna end up crying into it?” Dean asks, trying to think if this is something he can talk to his therapist about later this week.

Cas presses play and sits down next to Dean, lining himself against his body so he can feel when Dean tenses and relaxes without conspicuously looking at him for the entire film. Dean can tell, he can always tell when Cas is doing something to accommodate him. So he relaxes as much as possible in case the angel wants confirmation he’s okay with this and so he has a good baseline.

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Seeing Dean this attentive to a film is fascinating. Usually his inattentiveness or hyperactivity activates, but he’s so honed to the screen. It would probably be best to unpack at the end, Cas muses as the music starts, the opening music makes him tense a bit at hearing the slur in the song but Dean puts a hand on his leg and says, “It’s okay if they say, just the rest of us, shouldn’t…” Dean's thumb starts to rub at Cas’ knee absentmindedly, ”Damn, that’s a nice car,” he mumbles. He bristles when he hears the kids call the running child they are chasing the f-slur. He only relaxes when he sees Mahershala Ali’s character again. “I respect that guy, wish I knew someone like that at that kid’s age,” Dean says to himself. This open narration is clearly for Cas; Dean is indulging him. He can sense where Cas is taking this and is going along with it for both of their sakes: growth.

“He reminds me of you,” Cas whispers. Dean sits up, looking surprised. He eventually tears his eyes away to protest but the scene changes to Juan and Chiron in the diner and Dean’s fingers give Cas’ knee a squeeze when he realizes: he’s a surrogate father to all the waywards along the way and Cas sees him for it.

“Hey, that’s the chick from Pirates of the Caribbean,” Dean mumbles as the movie scene changes again. “Great actress, now I’m excited.” He settles back into the side of Cas. He tensed when the boys wrestle, probably hoping they didn’t hurt each other. He mirrored Juan’s same proud smile when he taught Chiron how to swim, and when Juan explained to Chiron that he has to decide for himself eventually who he wants to be, Dean exhaled like something was lifted from his shoulders. He didn’t speak again until Chiron’s dance class. “That kid’s got moves,” he said, with a soft smile on his face. “I’m glad he’s got that.”

The bathroom scene put a look of confusion on his face. Like he was seeing something that should have been a secret. He said nothing. When the TV went missing in Chiron’s house, Dean’s face hardened and he shook his head. But still, he said nothing. His face stayed hard as Juan confronted Chiron’s mom. At the end of the scene he said, “Juan’s more like Bobby. Not me. Fed the kid, taught him things, defended the kid, kept him safe.” Cas looked at him, solemnly.

“Isn’t that what you’ve done for Claire? Jack?” Dean’s eyebrows bunch together the way he gets when he wants to insult himself. But he doesn’t, he doesn't even shake his head, he just leans further into the couch. Leans harder against Cas. When Chiron asks Juan what the f-slur meant, Dean suspends his breath in anticipation. As Chiron gets up to leave, he whispers, “No, Little, c’mon, he didn’t know, he wants to help. He’s the best thing you got, don't leave.” Cas chances a glance and sees Dean is tearing up. He realizes now that Dean has always supplied excuses to the failure of caretakers, except for himself.

Dean tenses as Terrel makes fun of Little, “He was probably one of the kids in the bathroom scene, what a coward,” Dean guesses. He says it with the bitterness of experience. Cas decides not to pry. When teenage Kevin arrives, Dean goes quiet for the entire exchange, his attention entirely absorbed by their dynamic. As Kevin leaves, praising Chiron for keeping his secrets, Dean goes red in the face and squirms. He says nothing. He crosses his arms when Paula bids Chiron to leave his home for the night for her escapades. Although Cas is aware of John’s abuse, he doesn’t know all of the ways he neglected Dean. He notes it for discussion later.

Dean seems to really enjoy the exchange between Chiron and Teresa, “She’s kinda like Bobby too,” he chuckles sadly to himself. Cas deduces he doesn't consider Teresa to be like Ellen because Ellen probably wasn’t aware that Dean was anything other than heterosexual. The longer the movie goes on, the more Cas feels he owes Bobby a more and more tremendous debt for keeping Dean loved and alive. He seemed to have fulfilled a lot of roles for Dean over the years. Too many to go unnoticed.

In the next scene, the dream scene, Dean looks away as he tenses. Perhaps he’s had dreams of that sort. He stays tense through the scene with Paula in her drug induced verbal abuse tirade. Cas reaches for Dean’s hand and he relaxes a little. “Wearing the same clothes as he came home in, the day before, I...I’ve been there. The kid just...deserves better,”he mumbles to Cas. Cas nods his head, wanting to preserve the moment for what it could mean for Dean.

When Dean sees Terrel looking at Chiron in the classroom, he seems to confirm for himself. “Yea, that kid was definitely in that bathroom when they were all young.” Cas can’t help his curiosity, he asks:

“How can you tell?” Dean looks at him and seems to remember Cas isn’t human. The sadness in his eyes isn’t stemming from that knowledge, they're past that; it’s clear it’s an empathy for Chiron.

“That’s the kinda rage a guy only has when he’s shown you something you don't want.” He looks down and away like he’s said too much. His jaw clenched. Cas worries he'll go nonverbal.

“Should we pause? And talk?” Cas asks.

“No, man, I-I’m fine, let’s keep going.” Cas worries at his own lip but continues to watch with him.

Dean laments about Juan dying when he finds out, “I hope to Jack they worked things out before Juan passed. That Little—sorry—Chiron, forgave him, that Juan apologized or something, I hope they didn’t leave it off like that.” Cas understands Dean is self-correcting to honor Chiron’s self-identification, he feels proud. Dean stays tense though as Terrel and his minion Pizzo continue their assaults, Cas can see his hands have balled to fists. He rubs circles into Dean’s knee and hopes that is less distracting and more calming but it’s hard to tell as the next scene is the scene Cas felt most anxious about Dean watching.

As Chiron approaches the beach and sits, Dean relaxes. “Man, I'd love to hit the beach one day.” When the boys discuss Chiron’s nickname, Dean swallows around nothing and looks nervously at Cas. He doesn’t say anything but he eventually tears his eyes away and looks back at the screen. He doesn’t seem to breathe deeply until after Chiron looks back at Kevin when he’s out of the car.

Dean says, “Cas...am I Kevin or Chiron?” He looks like he’s in a trance of sorts.

Cas knows this would be the wrong moment for this observation given the scene approaching and doesn’t say anything. He just holds Dean a little tighter and whispers, “keep watching.” Dean clears his throat and watches with a grimace as Chiron’s mother dotes on him in her drug induced and sleepy state. He looks away at the screen as he calls him her “only.” When he realizes Terrel was setting Kevin up to get in trouble and makes the connection that Terrel would pick Chiron to be knocked down, his breathing picks up, “No,” he whispered. His head starts to slowly shake, he is…invested. Cas reached to pause the movie, Dean pushed him back into the couch. He says nothing else. As the blows land, Dean begins to cry silently, glued to the screen. He seems mesmerized by Chiron’s ability to rise and face Kevin with a high chin. “He’s...he won’t stay down.” He whispers to himself. Cas has never seen him like this. The tears are streaming down his face but he’s open, he’s not hiding, he’s not even trying to. Something in Cas’ chest swells threefold. Dean is quiet the entire time that Chiron ices his face and enters the classroom. When Chiron picks up the chair, he nods sagely like he knew it had to be done. He shakes his head at Kevin’s inaction in front of the school. And slumps into the couch as Chiron is driven away in the cop car.

When the third and final portion of the movie shows an older Chiron, nicknamed “Black” doing another face icing bath, Dean remarks to himself. “He built a lot of muscle around that heart of his, built himself into something that won’t break easily.” Cas can only guess that Dean had done the same over the years in his own way. “Beautiful car, he got his taste from Juan, probably,” Dean mutters as the scene changes, hearing the exchange between Black and the new stranger, Dean blushes. Probably noting how Black deflects from talking about women when Dean as a viewer understands Chiron’s desires.

When Kevin called Chiron out of the blue and used his nickname, Dean squirmed in his seat slightly, face trying hard to decide against an embarrassed smirk, but otherwise was quiet. His breathing picked up when he realized that Chiron was dreaming about the voice he had heard but otherwise reticent. The set of his jaw changed, he looked away from the screen as if experiencing first-hand embarrassment instead of second-hand.

Dean was rapt in the conversation that Kevin and Chiron shared, smiling slightly when Kevin said he was a cook. “Like me,” he whispers and chuckles sadly. Cas mentally notes to ask Dean later in the day if he thought about wanting to pursue diner work after they move out of the bunker. It might be cathartic for him, he muses.

As Paula offers Chiron her gut wrenching apology, Dean cries in complete silence. When he finally meets up with Dean won’t stop squirming. He’s stock still as the song Kevin wants to play fills the air though, in the car to Kevin’s place his eyes are brimming with tears. As Black tells Kevin that he was the only man to ever touch him and they meet in the middle of the kitchen, Dean begins to cry again and leans into Cas and curls up into him, face still facing the screen.

“I got you, I got you,” Cas says, stroking Dean’s back. He doesn’t stop saying it until Dean begins to wipe his tears and burrow into Cas’ chest, allowing himself to be held. Like this, Cas will always welcome him in. The reverse is also true, Cas knows that now. The screen mirrors the tenderness and affection they embody in that moment. Dean chuckles wetly and when the screen moves to credits, he damn near crawls into Cas’ lap.

A few minutes pass as Dean gets his breathing to steady. Only then does he whisper, "I get him, Chiron, you know? The heart holds on to something and no matter how many times you tell it to run away if it goes the other direction,” he chuckles sadly. “I’m glad he had the courage to say something. Just wish he did it sooner. Or Kevin was braver.” He says it like he means to tell Cas the same. Cas leans in and kisses him lightly.

“Luckily, they both had patience, it’s a virtue for a reason.”

Dean smiles at him like he rebuilt the world for him, and in a way since Dean was Cas' world, so he supposes he did. "Chiron deserved sooner." Dean takes Cas' thumb into his palm and wraps his fingers around it, intent on not looking Cas' in the eye anymore. "So I'm Kevin and you're Chiron, I guess? Since I made you wait so long."

"Dean, you didn't keep me waiting, you just took your time. 12 years to a being who watched the first humans speak is barely a moment passed."

"Still...it was too long." Dean kisses his thumb, solemn.

Cas kisses away the scrunch of Dean's eyebrow and says, "I think we both have qualities in the pair. Kevin didn't have the language for his feelings but also acted on them faster. Chiron held a facade of masculinity but also revelled in being renamed by a beloved. We're a both/and aromantic couple, Dean."

Dean smiles wide, seemingly alleviated. "A couple, huh? I like the sound of that." He hesitates for a moment and then reaches clumsily over Cas and into the dresser drawer near the couch. "But…," He takes a breath. "I like the sound of ‘married couple’ a lot better." Cas gasps and his eyes go wide as Dean leans back and opens a small black velvet cube, Dean rushes, "If you don't want a big party or anything that's fine, I just—"

"Yes," Cas says, "Absolutely, yes, Dean—" Cas takes a good look at the silver band, inset are yellow diamonds, a few onyx, and white diamonds in an order that resembles a bumble bee.

“Ya like it, honeybee?” Dean asks, peppering kisses all along Cas’ ear and hair. He’s nervous but he’s putting on confidence for Cas. “Wait, no, stop looking at it like you’re gonna eat it, man. Here.” Dean takes the ring and puts in Cas’ finger. “Try it on for size if you don’t like—”

“Dean, it's perfection.” Cas can barely contain the mirth he feels now. He doesn’t know if thank you was appropriate, it might embarrass Dean. Although the gesture is meaningful to Dean, Cas was a seraph, and Dean was legally dead. That aside, it felt more than it was all the same. He takes a breath before addressing Dean.

“I’m going to tell you something about me you still don’t know.“ Dean nods, zooms into Cas’ immediate periphery, and holds Cas’ face in the cradle of his palms.

“Lay it on me, babe.“ Dean looks at him seriously.

“Along with being the angel of Thursday, I am also the angel of tears and Solitude. I never thought I would have any of this love you give me, let alone be able to make some of my own or have a covenant. Dean, you have given me a world of love and joy and I’m so glad you exist.”

Dean sputters, probably trying to let the words sink in without protesting them.

“I’ll sit with that and get you back for that later,” Dean says, giggling nervously. He occupies himself by kissing very sweetly, a promise, a question, Cas answers in turn. He’s okay with Dean needing time to take the weight of his words, it’s always been their way. Castiel decided with great joy, I’m so glad I literally have all the time in the universe.