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“This is like Icarus or some shit.” Dean mutters, mainly to himself, as he settles behind where Cas sits cross legged on the floor.
Cas exhales a ghost of a laugh. “It’s a romantic notion, but it’s not that applicable to my situation.”
“I don’t know, burning wings sounds pretty similar to me.” Dean winces as soon as the words leave his mouth.
“The wax seals of his feathers melted. Icarus was no angel.” A sigh. “I suppose we are alike in that aspect now.”
The room falls into a tense silence and the click of the lid of the aloe vera gel seems almost unbearably loud. The gel is cool against Dean’s fingers and Cas shivers at the first touch to his skin. The scars spread in two angry red arcs from the top of his shoulder blades, fading away right above his hipbones. What were once deep gashes have healed to narrow lines surrounded by scar tissue, but that doesn’t make it any less painful to see. Dean smooths the aloe over the burns as gently as he can, hoping it doesn’t sting as much as the last time. The way Cas’ hands clench into fists so tight his knuckles turn white prove his hopes are in vain.
He sets a bracing hand on Cas’ hip, trying to pass comfort on wordlessly. The first time they had done this, he had apologized every time Cas flinched until he was asked to stop because Dean, how could this possibly be your fault?
When he’s finally finished, he caps the bottle and watches as Cas’ fists unclench and the blood flows back into his fingers. He presses a kiss to the top of Cas’ spine before he stands up, trailing a hand across his shoulders.
“D’you need something for the pain?” He asks quietly.
“That would be nice, yes.” Cas doesn’t look up from where he’s placed his hands in his lap.
“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Dean doesn’t let Cas get his own pills, at least not yet, too many memories of empty eyes and prescription bottles rolling under a frayed mattress still fresh in his mind.
“Dean?”
He pauses, one hand on the doorframe, looking back as Cas lifts his head.
“If,” Cas’ eyes flick down for a moment, like he’s planning his next words very carefully. “If I was Icarus, you would be my sun.”
“I-“ Dean’s eyes are wide. He doesn’t really understand why his heart jumped to his throat with a sentence that could be easily construed as “you’d be the cause of my death”, but he gets that it’s more than that. It’s always been more than that. “Okay, Cas.”
Cas nods once to himself and as Dean walks away, he feels just a little bit lighter.