AN: Ficlet time! I already did a Cas amnesia fic recently and wanted to try it from Dean's perspective (gotta work this trope out of my system). No definitive point when this takes place, but it's a canon!verse fic. Alright, I gotta set my goal: under 1500 for sure, ideally less. Let's do this ;)

Cas is concerned.

His grace is much diminished, to the point that he is an angel in name more than anything else. He would give anything to heal Dean. He might even settle to know exactly what's wrong with him, but instead he's stuck waiting on the human scale for him to recover.

The head wound hadn't seemed like much at the time. Although a blow to the head can always be dangerous, it wasn't until he had felt the blood matting down Dean's hair that he had realized just how bad it was. They had rushed the unconscious hunter to the nearest hospital.

It had been left to Cas to finish the hunt while Sam watched over Dean. Although it was his first time dealing with a wendigo, it had actually been relatively straight forward. (And perhaps he had the added fuel of wanting to avenge Dean's injury.) When he returned to the hospital, it was clear from Sam's demeanor that something was wrong.

It appears as though Dean was suffering from some memory loss. "Some" might be too generous of a term. He remembered seemingly nothing about himself or those around him. When he had first woken up, he had apparently been distressed by his predicament, lashing out at the hospital staff. Sam had eventually managed to calm him down, but only just so.

While Dean did not consciously remember details about his life, he must have sensed his connection to his brother. He'd allowed the younger man to soothe him, explain things. The doctors had already checked him out, assured him and Sam that as best they could tell, the memory loss was temporary.

Not that the assurance offered much comfort.

Dean is now asleep in his hospital bed. No tossing and turning for the hunter, as was common when he slept. At least there are no nightmares to plague him at the moment, and Castiel is indeed grateful for that much at least.

Truth be told, he fears what will happen when Dean wakes up. Of course Dean's unconscious would respond to Sam. The brothers have been through so much together. It would take more than a head injury to erase their bond.

But... Cas is a newer, less fixed member of their hunting trio. And their relationship has faced such trials. He hopes, desperately, that Dean will perhaps not remember him but will at least not feel an aversion towards the angel.

"Hey," Dean croaks, startling Cas from his worries.

Cas holds his breath. Moment of truth, he supposes. "Hello, Dean."

Silence has never been something he's dreaded between him and Dean. Now it feels acutely uncomfortable.

"Uh," Dean clears his throat. "Why are you sitting all the way over there?"

He blinks in surprise. The room isn't particularly large, but he is sitting on the chair in the corner. There's one pulled next to the bed, and though less comfortable than his current position, he had opted to give Dean space should he be alarmed by a stranger's presence. At least, that's how Dean would prefer things. Perhaps he had miscalculated, didn't consider how the amnesia would affect-

"Stop overthinking it." He indicates the chair next to the bed. "Just come 'ere."

The meds might be making him dopey, because as soon as Cas takes a seat, he grabs Cas' hand and laces their fingers together. It would be endearing if Cas weren't in shock.

"What's your name?" Dean asks, suddenly shy despite the strangely intimate way they're holding hands.

Cas looks at their hands, intertwined in a way he doesn't understand, before meeting Dean's curious gaze. His mouth is dry so he swallows. It doesn't help. "Castiel."

"Castiel," he repeats. It sounds like it left a bitter taste in his mouth. "Castiel," he says again, but it doesn't seem like it agrees with him. He looks at Cas as though he questions that the name he was given is correct.

"You usually call me Cas."

"Cas?" Although Cas nods in acknowledgement, Dean ignores him, just repeating the name a few times. "Cas. Cas. Cas." He nods to himself, confirming that he approves of the nickname, before laying back against the pillows and shutting his eyes. "I like that better."

His heartbeat quickens and he finds his head fuzzy, unable to really focus on anything more than Dean's little half smile and the fact that they're still holding hands. He's at a complete loss, not sure what Dean could possibly think.

"Dean?" He says it softly, not wanting to wake him if he's fallen back asleep.

He needn't have worried, because Dean immediately opens his eyes. "Yeah?"

"Why are holding my hand?" Cas has always preferred to be straightforward, even if human customs sometimes seem to prefer the opposite. He doesn't care if he comes off as ignorant in this particular case. Really, he just needs to know what's going on.

"Because I like it?" As if things were really that simple. Finally, a frown crosses his face. "Why? Do I not normally hold your hand?"

There's a moment when he wants to lie. Because telling the truth might make Dean let go, and he rather enjoys the pleasant warmth he's feeling now. But lying to Dean never went well, and he doesn't want to be seen as taking advantage when he recovers his memories. Dean would no doubt be embarrassed that he'd behaved in such a way.

"No."

The frown lines deepen and instead of letting go, the hold tightens. "Why not?"

As carefully as he can, Castiel tries to explain. "It is my understanding that holding hands is something that is typically reserved for couples."

Dean stares at him blankly. When there seems to be no more explanation coming, he simply asks, "So?"

"We're not a couple, Dean."

Although he whispers it gently, the effect it has on Dean is profound. He looks devastated at the news. But still, he doesn't let go of Cas' hand. "Why? What happened? What'd I do? Please, let me fix-"

Cas is dumbstruck. "Dean, I don't- We were never a couple."

Now Dean is gaping at him. "What?" he squeaks. "No, no that can't be right- I- Are you sure?"

It pains him to see Dean so distraught, but he doesn't quite understand the source of the hunter's distress. He shifts so that he clasps Dean's hand between both of his own. "I am quite certain. You and I are good friends, but nothing more." Very quietly, he adds, "Why would you think otherwise?"

Dean, the real Dean anyway, would be terrified to answer that question. But this Dean is not. He shrugs and says, "Because I love you."

The fuzzy, warm feeling is back but even more pronounced. Cas' hearing seems tinged with a faint ringing and his vision goes blurry around the edges. He has dreamed of hearing those words from Dean on more than one occasion, but he was never foolish enough to believe he would ever return his feelings. Which may be why he responds the way he does.

"No you don't."

"Excuse me?" Now Dean shifts to anger. This at least is familiar. "I might've needed to be told my own name, but I fucking know some things. And I fucking know I love that Sam guy I met earlier, and I fucking know I love you, and I fucking know it ain't the same type of love either. So don't tell me how I feel, Castiel. If you don't love me back, just say it instead of trying to convince me I'm the one who got it wrong."

Dean finally pulls his hand away, crossing his arms and turning his pout towards the door.

"Dean." The other man doesn't react. "Dean, please look at him." Still nothing. "Dean," he all but pleads, "I would rather not say this to the back of your head."

With a dramatic sigh, he finally turns back around. He won't quite meet Cas' eyes, but it will have to do. "I do. Love you, I mean. But," he warns when he sees the hope flare in Dean's eyes, "it's not something that we have ever discussed. I will not insult you by claiming to know how you feel. But I will caution you that perhaps you will view those feelings differently once your memories return."

"Doubt it," he says stubbornly.

"We'll see, Dean."

The hospital releases Dean a few days later. Things are coming back to him slowly, and it's Sam's hope that a return to the bunker will speed along his recovery.

Cas is soon called away on angelic business. (He finds it slightly annoying that his brothers and sisters still call upon him and expect so much of him, when he barely has the "angel mojo" left to perform the tasks they assign him.) Dean protests, though they of course don't explain the details to him. Sam offers to help, which of course Cas refuses.

It's something of a relief to be away. True to his word, Dean has shown nothing but affection to Cas since waking up. All in all it was a nice dream Cas allowed himself to live in. But Dean's memories are returning, and with it will come the realization that whatever love he feels for Castiel, he either misunderstood the nature of it or will return to not acknowledging it.

It was, however, a pleasant fiction for the time it lasted.

Castiel returns to the bunker with no small amount of dread. He has been gone nearly a month and Sam has texted him often to update him on Dean's condition. Nearly a week ago he confirmed that he seemed to have most of his memories back. Occasionally he would suffer from a lapse of some specific event, but usually reminding him helped fill in the blanks.

Which means, of course, that things will return to the status quo that had been in place before the accident.

He feels like his world is going to crash around him at any moment, that around each corner Dean might be waiting to spring the bad news on him.

There's a part of him that hopes he'll find Sam first, which will hopefully give him an idea of how bad things are going to go with Dean. But his luck was never that good. Instead it's Dean he finds in the library, scowling as he reads some book. Cas gives himself a moment to enjoy the view while Dean still hasn't noticed him.

Eventually the hunter senses his presence and looks up from the book. Their eyes meet and Cas suppresses the urge to run.

"Heya Cas."

His throat feels like it's closing up. He can't speak.

Dean seems to get it. He yawns and puts the book down and motions to the chair next to him as he pulls it out. Seeing no point in avoiding this conversation, Cas sits. Hopefully he won't need to say anything.

"So, uh," Dean coughs. Why does he look nervous? "I got my memory back. Mostly, anyway."

Cas nods. "Yes, Sam had said as much."

"Right." His face drops slightly, as though he wanted to be the one to tell Cas himself. It's not as though he wasn't equally capable of calling or texting him, so he finds it strange. "Well, uh, I guess we should talk about the elephant in the room?"

"Dean," he sighs. He could feign not understanding the phrase, but he would rather get this over with. "I already told you, you're under no obligation to continue-"

"Jesus, Cas! Let a guy talk, alright?" His annoyance is mild, beautifully offset by the rosy blush spreading across his cheeks. Hmm, this isn't what Cas was expecting. "I um, I kinda... I mean, I already knew I was in love with you. I was just kinda... avoiding it?"

There's a sharp intake of breath. Dean ignores it and keeps going.

"But I gotta say... I really liked being able to show it." Dean finally meets his hopeful gaze. "Is there any way we could maybe, uh... keep that going?"

In his heart, Dean Winchester is probably a hopeless romantic. But Cas knows that the other man always feels this isn't something he can do, that his grand gestures will fall on deaf ears. This probably falls short of what most people envision as a declaration of love.

But it is very Dean, which makes it all the more endearing.

He leans forward and kisses Dean, cradles his face and strokes his cheek and silently offers everything he has. And since sometimes Dean needs to hear it, he adds, "Yes, Dean, I think we can arrange that."

This time Dean is the one to initiate the kiss, laughing a bit before giving into it. "Awesome," he says with a blinding smile.

AN: *glares at word counter* uggggh. (though i noticed i was gonna go over before i had cas leave and then was kinda like meh fuck it) i need to figure out what i'm doing wrong - am i just writing too many words, or am i choosing stories that i can't condense into something that short