"I won’t hurt Dean."
"You will. You are.”
and it’s not even the blood on his fist that makes her right. Or the flinch of Dean closing his eyes and gritting his teeth when Cas extends his palm. It’s the wide breath of his irises when he understands that Cas is leaving him again. It’s the ache in his mouth when Cas tells him there’s something Cas still can’t give him, still won’t give him, after everything they’ve…
It’s that Dean’s heart is always broken and Cas knows how to fix it, but he won’t. The little crackling of ions and electricity sparking out because Dean thinks Cas is saying he doesn’t trust him.
“I need you.”
—I need you too.—
But Cas is holding the undoing of Heaven in his hands and it’s not what everyone thinks it is. It’s not spells or the atomic maps of celestial bones. It’s just one chapter out of a very long book. The last chapter. And God’s name isn’t in it. Nor Lucifer’s. Or Michael’s.
Castiel. Bold and broken as dawn. And Dean Winchester.
The last sentence doesn’t talk about Happily Ever Afters.
He runs because angels are given a finite number of free choices in their lives. And his are all used up.