Cas shows up on his doorstep laden with plastic bags and tries to tell Dean he's sorry.

"You got nothin' to be sor-" Dean chokes out, taking in the sight of the lost-looking angel for the first time in months, before his eyes dart to one of the bags on the right. "Is that pie?"

"I gave the angel tablet to Kevin Tran," he explains. "I didn't want to show up here empty-handed."

"It's fine." It's pretty damn far from fine, though, with Sam near death in the other room and Crowley somewhere out there getting more and more desperate, but seeing Cas again, it all suddenly clouds away. "It's fine. Why don't you come in, put those bags down?"

Cas doesn't cross the threshold of the bunker, though, just looks at Dean with those sad eyes. "Dean," he sighs, "You should know. I'm not okay. I'm- broken. Again. Or, still. If you want me to, I'll walk away right now and never bother you again. Just let me drop off the bags, because you need… beer and-"

"I don't care that you're broken," Dean tells him, and then flinches when he sees Castiel's face fall. "Dammit, not like that. I care. I care about you." The words eke themselves out like prisoners finally seeing the light of day. "But whatever's goin' on with you, I want you here."

Cas nods, slowly. "Because you need me." Dean knows he's remembering the last time they saw each other, the showdown in the crypt, maybe the last time Dean had been completely honest with anyone around here.

"Yeah," says Dean, and then there's a clatter as all of the bags drop from Castiel's hands and crash to the floor, beer bottles rolling away and chip bags spilling out on the floor as Cas's arms swing up around Dean's neck and shoulders and he's pulled into a tight hug.

Surprised but not upset, Dean responds by twining his arms around Cas's back, pulling him closer because Cas is here and safe and alive, and with his head tucked over the angel's shoulder he almost doesn't hear Cas mumbling, "I need you, too."