“Dean . . .” Castiel turned over and took his hand.

“Or more like the last meal of a condemned man. Right?”

“You are not going to die, Dean.” He was completely serious, and for Castiel, that was really saying something. “I won’t let you.”

“So you do love me.”

“That is never in question.” He held Dean’s hand to his chest and slowly ran his fingertips up and down Dean’s inner arm. “Whether I should — or will be allowed to continue –”

“Castiel, renegade angel,” Dean said, and Castiel huffed a laugh. “Look. I’m — I’m not okay with dying, not really, but it’s better than letting the world end, right? So whatever happens, it’s what was meant to happen. Right?” He lay back and wound his arm around Castiel, and Castiel tucked himself into Dean’s body, sighing like it was all he needed to find the secret to happiness. “And, thank you for this. For you.” He kissed Castiel’s forehead.

Castiel was quiet for a while, which Dean was used to, and then pushed himself up enough to kiss Dean’s forehead in return. “I know you’re tired,” he said and smoothed out Dean’s forehead with his fingertips. “But will you trust me again? If you stop the Apocalypse, it does not mean you have to die. And I would prefer that you lived.”

“You’re prefer it, huh?” He smiled at Castiel, knowing that it was bitter rather than happy. “You’d rather I didn’t die, if you please?”

“Don’t mock me. I’m serious. I would prefer that you lived.”

“Not mocking you,” Dean mumbled and pulled Castiel’s head to his shoulder. He ran his fingers through Castiel’s damp hair. “Just . . . you’re right. I’m tired. I’ve been tired for a long time. As long as I’m a hunter I’ll keep being tired. And damn it, if I’m such a fucking hero I’d like a reward. That’s part of all the stories, right? The hero comes home and gets the girl or the kingdom or whatever. I’d prefer that. A little peace.”

Castiel breathed slowly in his arms. “I would like to give you that peace, Dean.”

“But it’s not up to you.”

“No. It is not.”

“You know,” Dean said when he got tired of waiting for Castiel to elaborate, “I get why you didn’t want to fuck me now — not just because you’re in someone else’s body but because you’d like it too much, you’d want to keep doing it and so would I, and we’re going to just have to suck up and deal with the fact that we want each other and can’t be together. Which sucks mightily, Cas. Sucks like a hose bag.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Castiel said slowly, “but I agree, nonetheless.” He gave Dean another kiss. “Sleep. The Fishers will be upset if you’re awake all night instead of resting.”

“I’m sick of resting, too,” Dean said. “Stay with me.”

“For a while. I will likely be gone when you wake.”

“Okay,” Dean said, settling in to sleep — and then opened his eyes and said, “When will you be back? You’ll have to come back — we have to find Lilith.”

“Don’t concern yourself with that,” Castiel said and kissed him, and then kissed him again, and he must not have been too worried about the Fishers being upset with him because kisses turned to more with hardly a pause.

***

They say thunder rumbled across the country, but no rain fell.