20. Chapter 20

The by now familiar feeling of grace and an equally familiar voice singing softly were the first sensations that Dean really recognized. It took a considerable amount of effort to force his eyes to open, and he realized that he was sitting on the floor of the kitchen in the nest. Or rather, he was sitting propped up on enough blankets and pillows that he could barely feel the hardness of the floor under him, his bee tucked in close by his side,. Castiel was standing at the counter, busy with something that Dean couldn't see, and the sound of Castiel's voice filled the kitchen, rising and falling on a melody of words that Dean's human brain couldn't understand.

He felt as exhausted as he had when he first dug himself out of his grave, like he could've slept for another hundred years. Memories of the past few days swept over him in a bunch of disjointed, confusing flashes, but there was no way he had the cognizance to make sense of it all right now. He clumsily kicked out a foot, hitting one of the pillows that had been supporting his legs. The pillow tumbled off the stack and skidded across the floor into the back of Castiel's foot. The angel turned around immediately, though not without a grimace of pain, one hand moving to splay protectively across his stomach.

Right where he'd been stabbed.

As the memory of that awful moment crashed into him, Dean felt his breath hitch. The room went a little blurry. He remembered. The demons. Watching Castiel be stabbed, seeing him fall to the ground as the demon taunted them both. And Dean, standing off to the side, not reacting. Just standing there staring dumbly, like he had at every other moment in his life when he should have reacted. Like the time the shtriga came for Sam and their father scared it away. Or the time Jake Telley stabbed Sam in the back while Dean and Bobby watched. Or the multiple times Ruby had led his brother down a dark path, and Dean hadn't done a damn thing to stop it.

"Dean, honey, shh. It's okay." Castiel was beside him then, kneeling down and gently pulling Dean against him. Dean resisted for a few seconds, torn between resisting the comfort because he didn't deserve it and clinging desperately to his angel. The desire to make sure that Castiel was okay won out and he threw his arms around Castiel, pressing his face to Castiel's collarbone with a shuddery gasp.

"Sorry, m'sorry," he sobbed, hating the way the tears rushed down his face without his permission. It was stupid and childish, but he couldn't make them stop.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

"They stabbed you. I didn't stop them, m'sorry," Dean whispered, more details filtering into his mind. Gabriel and that other angel had showed up to smite the demons. If it wasn't for them, there was an excellent chance that Castiel and Dean would both be dead right now. So much for this whole nestling thing making him a more experienced hunter. All it had done so far was make him even more of a liability, not to mention a drain on Castiel's resources.

"Dean." Castiel's hands tightened on his shoulders. "That was not your fault, okay?"

Dean shook his head, opting not to speak in the hopes of catching his breath, because it was humiliating how broken his voice sounded right now. He dug his fingers into Castiel's shirt, hoping that the pressure might be enough to make them stop shaking. Against his will, he was remembering more about the past few days. Not all of it, but some: little flashes that made sense. He remembered Gabriel carrying him and talking to him, remembered feeling cold and damp between his legs until Castiel wiped him down and left him feeling dry and safe. He remembered sleeping in between Castiel and Gabriel, and leaning back against Castiel while Gabriel helped him drink from a cup because he couldn't do it on his own.

Fuck. In the beginning he'd agreed to this because he hadn't really thought it would ever get this far. But thanks to his little mental vacation, the angels had been treating him like an actual infant. Mortification made his face burn and he was pretty sure he could never look either Castiel or Gabriel in the face again. They'd fed him, bathed him, changed his diaper, and all because he wasn't strong enough to face down a little something like a demon attack. Dean had always wondered about himself, but he had never thought that he was so damn weak. It was disgusting.

"That's enough."

The sharp flare of grace was enough to snap Dean out of his silent self-loathing. His eyes snapped open when Castiel pushed him away and then grabbed his chin, forcing their eyes to meet. Angel and nestling stared at each other for at least a minute in complete silence. It was easily one of the longest minutes of Dean's life. But no matter how much he wanted to look away or apologize, he couldn't. All he could do was sit there and look back at Castiel, shocked into silence.

"The demons were here because of me," Castiel said, his voice quiet but no less firm. "It was my lack of care that brought them here. They were following me from the moment I left Balthazar's, but I was so eager to get back to you that I didn't notice. The nest is even more heavily warded than the forest, and that's why they waited until we left before they attacked. I was the one who should have been more careful. I know better than to trust that any amount of warding is enough to keep a demon out; I should have scanned the area before we left to make sure that it was safe."

"But I -"

"Be quiet and listen to me, Dean. I understand that part of the reason you agreed to become my nestling was so that you could be a better hunter. And someday, you will have the grace to back that up. But in the meantime, it is not your fault that your reaction time was slowed. Even if you had been operating at full strength, there was nothing you could have done. You didn't have a weapon and you were outnumbered." Castiel's grip was so tight now that it actually hurt a little. It was like he was willing his words to sink in through touch alone.

"As for what happened after the fact... you have been building up to a breakdown since I raised you from hell. All of that stress, the nightmares, the torture... it was literally more than the human mind can handle. I'm shocked, frankly, that you were able to keep yourself together for as long as you did. You were smart. You waited until you were with me and Gabriel, when we could watch over you and protect you and love you. And that's what we did, Dean. I didn't do a single thing for you over the past three days that I didn't want to do. The only thing that soured the experience for me was that you weren't able to consent to it, because you were trying to recover yourself.

"But the fact that you were capable of recovering on your own, without any outside help, proves to me all over again just how strong you are. This changes nothing about you, Dean. You're still a hunter, still Sam's big brother, still the same man. All this -" Castiel let go with just one hand to gesture to the space around them, including Dean himself "- is just giving me the opportunity to show you how much you're loved, to give you some time to not have to take the world on your shoulders, to be cared for. It may be in an unconventional way, and maybe it embarrasses you and makes you ashamed because of how much you want it. But it doesn't change who you are."

At the end of his speech, Castiel was breathing hard. His blue eyes were boring into Dean. For his part, Dean still felt like he couldn't breathe. He finally tore his eyes away, glancing down at himself. The sight of the t-shirt and diaper filled him with loathing, but it wasn't as strong as he would have expected it to be. Because although the diaper was a sign of how weak he was, it was hard to protest that it was a sign of how much Castiel cared. The angel could have easily left Dean in a room all by himself, drooling and nonresponsive, to shit himself and get dehydrated until he came back to himself. But he hadn't.

Instead, he'd gone out of his way to take care of Dean. And every memory of Dean had, even if the shame curling at his insides couldn't be denied when he thought about them, was brightened by the obvious affection with which Castiel touched him. There was caring written into every look, every word, every touch, every action. It didn't excuse Dean's weakness, or how he'd failed to react at the demons, but it was proof. Even if Dean didn't understand why Castiel cared so much, this was proof that he did. And maybe he could take it as proof that Castiel wasn't going to get tired of this, of him, and decide to leave.

Castiel must have been reading his thoughts, because he jerked back as though he'd been slapped. "Dean, what - oh, sweetheart, no." He wrapped his arms around Dean, hugging him tightly. "I'm not leaving. Even after you become an angel, I still want to be with you. I was willing to fall so that I could be around you. That's how much I believe in you. I'm not going anywhere, baby, I promise."

The only thing Dean could do was hug him back as tightly as he could. It wasn't the first time he'd participated, but he'd never felt the need to hold on so desperately before. If Castiel had been human, the pressure probably would've cracked a couple of ribs. As it was, he just hummed a few notes of the song he'd been singing before and combed his fingers through Dean's hair. The tenderness of the touch made Dean's throat ache, because he could remember that feeling a lot from the past few days.

"You're okay, Dean," Castiel murmured, his deep voice soft and comforting. "You don't have anything to be ashamed of."

Dean disagreed. The diaper between his legs was cold and damp, and no matter what Castiel said he wasn't really ready to think about what that meant. "Shower?" he asked, his voice hoarse, because the thought of being on his back while Castiel cleaned him up - even if it had happened - wasn't something he was ready for.

"How about a bath?" Castiel suggested, lightly patting his back and moving to stand. He scooped Dean up, bracing him on his hip. Dean tensed in surprise and Castiel stopped short, blinking in surprise. "Oh, right. I'm sorry. I've gotten used to carrying you around."

The thing was, Dean remembered that too. Though Castiel had carried him once or twice before, both he and Gabriel had been carrying him a lot over the past couple days, it seemed - which was ironic, considering how much bigger he was than Gabriel. Castiel's arms were very strong and sure where they held onto him. It didn't feel like he was at risk of falling. It occurred to Dean, at that moment, that maybe this was how Castiel had carried him out of hell: safe and surrounded in an angel's loving grace.

"S'okay," he forced himself to whisper, wrapping his arms around Castiel's neck.

"Alright, then, bath time it is," Castiel said, as though there was nothing unusual about that moment, and carried him into the bathroom.