Apocalyptic Love Songs 6

He felt a hand in his hair and opened his eyes. Castiel was sitting on the sofa, gazing at him and gently stroking his hair to wake him. Castiel gave him a patient smile. “Hello, Dean.”

“Cas,” Dean said, sitting up, and before he could stop himself he was holding Castiel’s face and kissing him. Castiel made a soft sound in his throat and held Dean’s shoulders, and when Dean touched Castiel’s lips with his tongue they parted and Castiel moaned a little louder. Dean tasted his mouth as Castiel kneaded his shoulders, and Dean felt Castiel shiver under his fingers.

Dean pulled back and took his hands away from Castiel’s face, feeling himself blush. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Sorry. I’m just so glad to see you.”

“I am glad to see you, too.” Castiel dropped his hands from Dean’s shoulders and tilted his head, the familiar puzzled expression on his face. “You look terrible.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, happy to put the kiss aside to deal with later. Much, much later. Like, never, maybe. “I’m not healing too well. Or sleeping much.”

“I thought that was the case,” Castiel said, pulling a leather cord from under his collar.

“How did you –” Castiel gave him another patient look as he paused in undoing the clasp. “Yeah. Right. We’re — yeah.” He nodded to the necklace. “What’s that?”

“It is a gift for you.” He held it up and Dean bowed his head so Castiel could fasten it around his neck.

“Oh. Castiel. That’s — that’s very –”

“It’s not from me.” Dean looked up at him and Castiel smiled again. “We have mutual friends. When they heard what Lorcan Murphy is doing to you they created that and blessed it, to protect you.”

“Tell them thanks for me.” He looked down at the amulet that hung from the cord — it was a small disk of malachite, set in silver. “It’s nice,” he said softly. “Malachite. Protection from bad dreams, right?”

“Yes,” Castiel said. “Also for healing, and for guarding people who are in physical danger.”

“Appropriate.” He smiled at Castiel. “Who gave this to you? Someone you trust?”

“Someone I trust,” Castiel said with a nod. “Three someones I trust. The Fisher sisters.”

Dean frowned, confused. “Sisters? I thought they were grandma, mother and daughter.”

“Yes,” Castiel said placidly. “And sometimes they are sisters. It is confusing, but it is their way.”

“But who are they?”

“They are the Fisher sisters. They have other names. Come,” he said, rising, “they gave me more malachite to put where you sleep.” Dean took him upstairs and got into bed, and Castiel put polished stones of malachite the size of golf balls in the windowsills. “That should protect you from him while you’re sleeping.”

“Thanks,” Dean said quietly, leaning back against the headboard. “Could you . . . stay with me a while?”

“For a little while,” Castiel said and sat on the edge of the bed, his hands folded. “Until you sleep.”

“Thanks,” Dean repeated and wished he’d sit closer. “Hey. Um. About earlier.” Castiel looked at him, his face as unreadable as ever, and Dean said, “I have no idea what to say.”

“You expressed affection,” Castiel said. “Mortals do that.”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “But, see, the thing is, I really fuckin’ miss you when you’re not around. Which is dumb because you’re around all the time now, like you can’t get enough of me either.”

Castiel looked down at his hands. He said quietly, “I also miss you.”

“Oh,” Dean breathed.

Castiel raised his head. “But the more important thing is our work, not what we want.”

“Castiel,” Dean whispered, “what do we want?”

They stared at each other a moment or two. Castiel said, “I want to go home. But I’m not sure where that is anymore.”

Dean swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“I was warned. You cannot walk the Earth and remain unchanged.” He gave another of his faint smiles. “It’s blood. Blood makes you feel and hunger and — and live.”

“Angels don’t have blood?” Dean said softly.

“No. No blood.” He was quiet a moment. “We are made of light and thought and energy. I always thought a body was so limiting. How could you function when you were held back by flesh? But, oh, Dean . . .” He looked at Dean, with an expression Dean could only describe as awe. “You are infinite inside.”

Dean reached out and wrapped his hand around Castiel’s wrist, where he could feel Castiel’s pulse pumping under his warm skin. “You’re infinite too.”

Castiel looked down at his wrist, then back up at Dean. “Close your eyes, Dean. Rest.”

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