[ And where was that mentality the first time he'd done it? The second? Castiel catches himself before he can ask it, leaning in closer and really looking at him. He stares hard, narrowed in on the sharp green of Dean's eyes and the fading surprise flush across those features. Why does he suddenly care so much when the last several years had been the mission and only the mission? Ignoring each other and still trying to work together.

Why. ]

Do you even know what you're saying? [ His fingers tremble the tighter he grips Dean's clothes. ] It's impossible to stay safe in a place like this. We have to do everything we can-- I can't do both, Dean.

[ He forces himself to ease up, idly smoothing his hand over the front of his chest and along his shoulder. It does nothing for his nerves, wound so tight he's close to shaking and never stopping. Like so many other things between them, this feels important. This... is shaping them and making them, writing a different story that should have ended months ago. ]

You have to believe that I'll still be here tomorrow. Trust me.