“So is that why you say ‘yippie-ki-yay’ sometimes?”
Dean looked up at Cas as the sounds of gunshots blasted through the screen. Dean had finally convinced Cas to watch Die Hard with him. Admittedly, it hadn’t really taken that long; Cas had agreed after Dean’s third complaint, trying to suppress a smile as he set up the movie,
“You bet.” He chuckled as Cas looked back at the TV, tilting his head the way he always did when trying to figure something out. After a minute or so, Dean opened his mouth to ask what was on his mind, but Cas spoke first.
“You’re…similar to him. In some ways.”
Dean raised his eyebrows. “Who, McClain?” Cas nodded in confirmation.
“Wow. I’m honored you think I’m that badass,” Dean chuckled. Cas nodded and returned his focus to the screen, the pair falling back into comfortable silence again. But as the movie continued, Dean kept replaying what Cad had said. The words echoed through his head as a henchman was strangled with a length of chain, and he flinched when the body hit the wall. Cas glanced his way but said nothing.
When the credits began to roll, Cas turned away from the screen, waiting for Dean to get up and go to bed so he could…do whatever angels did instead of sleeping. But Dean stayed put, fidgeting with his shirt, and Cas waited patiently.
“What-” Dean dared to glance up at Cas. He was entirely focused on Dean, who quickly looked back down at his hands. “When you said that I was, uh, like McClain - what did you mean by that?”
Cas thought for a moment. “Well…I felt that you shared some similar traits.”
Dean thought back to the man being strangled by chains, of the explosions and gunshots and violence. He wrung the hem of his shirt in his hands, a strange guilt pooling in his stomach.
“You are both smart.” Cas’s words startled him out of his thoughts. Smart? Dean was a lot of things, but “smart” definitely wasn’t the first to come to mind. Cas pushed on. “You are. The main character, McClain - he was put in many difficult situations, but he always came up with a way out. And his enemies underestimated how smart he was, and it just…reminded me of you.
“And you’re persistent.” Cas smiled softly. “I used to see it as bull-headed stubbornness, but it’s more than that. It’s finding hope, finding solutions, even in the direst of situations,” he said, gesturing to the screen.
A little part of Dean whispered that it wasn’t true, that he was just a violent killer, that Cas was lying to him. But when he met the angel’s gaze, it was full of sincerity, and the voice seemed to quiet down.
“But really, most of all, you care about your family. You would do anything to protect them.”
Dean stared at Cas, in his bumblebee pyjamas and one of Dean’s old band tees, his eyes full of love and his voice full of sincerity. This wasn’t about some movie, this was about how Cas saw Dean. Cas saw Dean. He saw all of him, the good and the bad and the ugly, and he loved him anyway. And in that moment, he caught a glimpse of how others saw him - not angry and violent and unlovable, but someone learning how to heal, someone trying to shed the anger he had carried all his life, someone smart and kind and good.
Dean knocked his knee against Cas’s, a silent acknowledgement that he understood what Cas had been trying to say. “Thanks, Cas,” he whispered. The angel smiled softly in return. Dean yawned, not wanting to end the moment but too tired to fight it off. Wordlessly, Cas stood and offered his hand. Dean took it gratefully, his slightly numb legs thanking him for the extra support.
“Oh, and you both look nice without a shirt on.”
Dean flushed beet red and coughed, choking on his breath, but it was worth it to hear the low rumble of Cas’s laugh as he made his way to bed.
