Smoke

An hour in to the attempts to work the counter-spell around for Cas, Dean found himself stroking his thumb along the sharp angle of Cas’ cheek. He paused for a fraction of a second, decided if anyone had a problem with it they could blow him, remembered which people that would mean, and changed his mind to just not giving a damn if he was seen.

Another twenty minutes and another failed attempt later, he leaned closer to Cas’ ear and started talking.

“You hear me?” he asked. “Used to think you could always hear me, but then there was that whole being human thing, and I’ve not been sure about how well prayers work for you since. Don’t suppose it matters. Not like you always listen to me, anyway. And I don’t blame you, Cas. I’m not mad at you. Maybe I’ve been too hard on you for not doing things the way I want you to, but I’ve been trying to do better.”

He had, as well, after searching through his memories of Cas for any reasons the guy might have said ‘Yes’ to Lucifer. Getting Cas back had been a second chance, and Dean had been trying to take it.

“Still a dick move, taking off on a hunt without me,” Dean said. He couldn’t quite keep the growl out of his voice. “I told you, a few hours more and I’d have been there. And then you wouldn’t have gone into that place alone, and I wouldn’t have walked in to find you slashed open.”

And now he was blaming Cas for his own injuries. Talk about dick moves.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know that sounds like I’m having a go at you, but I just want you to learn to be safe, all right? This can’t be the last time I talk to you. You get that? The last time you say my name will not be in some crappy concrete room with your Grace spilling out and distance between us.”

“Why?” Bela asked, from far closer than Dean had realised she was. “Do you want to hear him say your name from much closer? Maybe from under you?”

Dean closed his eyes and reminded himself that Hannah was keen on Bela, for some reason, and they needed Hannah to help Cas.

“What do you want, Bela?” he asked. “You come to tell me again how lucky I’ve been?”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Bela said, pulling out a chair next to Dean and joining him. “You’ve never really known who I am. And I have no reason to want your angel to die. I have my own angel now, and I get how special they are.”

Dean pulled his hand away from Cas’ face and after a moment’s thought slid it down his hand until he reached the guy’s hand. He hesitated.

“Just hold his hand,” Bela said. “It’s not as though everyone in Hell doesn’t already know.”

“What?”

He paused with his fingertips on Cas’ wrist.

Bela huffed.

“Those rumors? A lot of them were about the two of you. And from what Hannah’s told me, Heaven has the same gossip. The Seraph and the Righteous Man. You should both be on a book cover with your shirts open and your hair flowing in the wind.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Dean said.

“Really? Because I heard he defied Heaven on your say so. I heard he took on the souls of Purgatory so you could stay with your girlfriend and play at being suburban. I heard he gave up an army, that he almost let borrowed Grace burn him through, that he helped to remove the Mark, even when it meant having a spell almost tear him apart, all for you. Is any of that untrue?”

Of course it was. Bela wasn’t making any sense.

Except… Cas had done those things. Not just for Dean. He’d turned his back on Heaven in the first place because he knew it was the right thing to do. Still, some of those things did sound closer to being for him, maybe, than he normally let himself think about.

When Bela didn’t say anything else, he shifted his hand until he had Cas’ held securely.

“That’s what I thought,” Bela said. “Now, Hannah thinks she might have one more counter-spell ready. You hold on to him. We might have him back to you soon.”

She stood, clapping Dean on the shoulder before she went, and Dean had more trouble than usual summoning up insults about the woman.