Title: Home
Author: snowin' you
Rating: PG
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: Coda to 8x23
Warnings: None
Word Count: 625
Summary: After what happened to Cas in 'Sacrifice', Dean was both happy and sad.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. If I do, it could be better, or it could be worse.
A/N: Thank you my sweetie darkphoenix2345 for beta-reading this short piece.

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"There you are."

Dean made his presence known in order not to spook the man standing on the edge of the lake; his physical body was present, but his psyche lost to this world. Sometimes Cas would spend hours just looking out over the horizon. He wouldn't tell Dean why, but Dean knew what he saw behind those sky-blue eyes: a replay of angels falling like shooting stars.

Cas let out a quiet breath. The weather was brisk and a faint puff of air was visible over his fuzzy stubble. The sun hung low in the skyline. Its golden-brown gleam would soon retreat, giving way to its lightless counterpart. Dean treaded his steps on crisp autumn leaves; their color resembled that of the oversized trench coat Dean held in his arms.

"It's getting cold," Dean said, draping the coat over Cas' shoulders. Cas slipped his hands through the arm holes, pulling the lapels around himself and using Dean's arms as a belt to keep it there.

Dean rested his chin on Cas' shoulder, gazing into the scenic view of the serene lake. They had done this a hundred times before — Cas seeking some privacy, pining for the faraway home he had long lost; Dean invading his space, reminding him of the new home they had found.

It was in moments like these that Dean would be sad yet ruefully happy. Sad because Dean knew how much Cas missed Heaven and how dear he held his late brothers and sisters in his heart. Even sadder because now Cas was fully capable of understanding, processing, feeling human emotions — all the grief, the anguish, the guilt and regrets of failing and losing a family. The saddest was because Cas remembered it all: what had happened back there, what happened now.

Dean clasped him tighter and nuzzled his nose into the nape of Cas' neck, inhaling Cas' earthy scent of skin and soap. Day by day, Cas felt less and less celestial and more and more corporeal. It was true Cas was completely human the day Metatron took his grace away, but for Dean's part, it was a gradual process. It took Dean some time to become attuned to the fact that Cas needed to eat and sleep on a daily basis, that he needed more sets of clothing and needed to be taught how to use an electric shaver. It would take Dean even more time to teach Cas how to cook and drive.

It also took Dean quite some time to realize that, now that his angel had become his ex-angel, it was no longer necessary for his heart to waver every time they argued, dreading that Cas would just poof! and disappear. It took Dean some more time to realize that, with his mojo gone, Dean no longer needed to worry that Cas would go missing in action, again; leaving Dean fidgeting to no end as to what had become of him — whether Cas was dead or alive and well — or wondering whether he would ever return at all and curl up by Dean's side one more time. Even if Cas did decide to go AWOL, Dean was certain that, with all the hunting skills he had, he would definitely be able to track down a big baby in a trench coat.

Dean was guiltily happy because he didn't need to fear over losing Cas again — a fallen angel, grounded here on earth in Dean's embrace.

Cas reached his hand behind to ruffle the back of Dean's head, a simple gesture of fondness Cas had learned from the hunter. His other hand patted lightly on Dean's arms which clung to his waist. He turned his face slightly backwards.

"Dean," he said softly. "Let's get back home."