Dear Castiel,

This is dumb, Dean decides. He's a grown man, writing a letter to another grown man, a former angel, actually, and it's dumb. It's dumb that Dean can't work up the nerve to say these things out loud, for fear of not saying enough, or not saying the right thing at all. In truth, Dean's still working out how he feels about all this. About Castiel.

He twirls the pen between his fingers, chews his lip, looks down at the nearly empty sheet of paper. Is "Castiel" too formal? Dean crosses out the tiel, leaving just "Cas".

Dear Castiel,

Is this weird? Writing you a letter, I mean. I don't think it is, but even if this is weird, you understand why I have to do it this way. You know me, better than anyone, probably, and you know that most of the time what I'm thinking is a lot different than what I say. I guess it was easier when you were an angel. You could just read my thoughts and understand what I meant even when what I said didn't make much sense. But then, you not being able to read minds kind of forces up to face up to this...this thing we've been dancing around for years. Which is, I don't know. I'm not really sure how to feel about it, but this probably for the best. Basically, Cas, I can't live without you.

If you don't feel the same things that I'm feeling - that I've always felt, well, then things just got a lot more awkward between us. But I'm pretty sure you already know. I've said it before, not the big three words, exactly, but I tend to hide it in phrases that are easier to say. Remember last year? In the crypt? I told you I needed you. And in Purgatory, when I said I wouldn't leave without you. I say it all the time, Cas. And I know you hear me. You know how I feel, I'm pretty sure. But I'm going to say it, for real this time, so everything is out there. I'm in love with you, Cas. It took me a while to figure it out, but I am. I always have been, and I always will.

You confused me, at first, and to be honest, you still do. I don't like guys. I'm not gay. But somehow, and I don't know how, really, you're different. You're Cas. I don't get it. All I know is that I really can't stand it when you leave, and I've never wanted to spend the rest of my life with someone, but then here you are.

I don't know for sure if you're in love with me, too. I like to think you are, what with the whole giving-up-everything-for-me, but maybe it's platonic love, like me and Sammy. That's fine, if that's what it is. I like being your friend, Cas, really. I like showing you new things and making you laugh and hearing your perspective on things and watching movies together. I really like all of that. But, on top of being your friend, I'd also really like to kiss you. And maybe even other things, if you want.

Right now, I'm not even sure if giving this to you is the right thing to do. Mostly, I'm scared. This is, by far, the scariest thing I've ever done, demon hunting included. Just know that right now, while you're reading this, there's some major, killer butterflies in my stomach. Wait, you probably don't get that reference and you're probably worried about killer butterflies in my stomach now. Calm down, it's just a saying. I'll tell you about it later. Well, I'm just rambling now. I think I've said all that I needed to say.

I guess that even if you don't feel the same as me and nothing at all comes out of this, it's for the best. I've been meaning to tell you these things for so long I think I'd probably explode if I didn't get it out soon. And I couldn't stand it if you never knew. If you died, and I never got to tell you...it'd suck, Cas. It'd suck so much.

I love you. So much it scares me.

There. Dean reads over the letter a few times, smiling a bit imagining Cas's face as he reads the part about the butterflies. And Dean wasn't kidding about that part. His whole stomach is in knots, and as he stands up and stuffs the letter into an envelope, his hands shake. Dean writes "For Cas" on the envelope, and looks at it. He's really doing this. He feels like he might be sick.

Sam and Cas are in the library, nerding out together, and so Dean figures the coast is clear. He walks down a few doors from his room and across the hall, opening Cas's bedroom door. Dean flicks the light on, and grins at the mess that Cas has left inside. Cas is probably the messiest person Dean's ever met, including himself.

Dean steps over a stack of books, placing the letter on Cas's pillow. He sighs. Here it goes.