"We're not going to win, Cas. We already lost."

In that moment, Castiel would've done anything to carry Sam's fear for him.

It was a familiar feeling, and the angel knew it was crushing him. His pain was so present that it was tangible, leaving pins and needles throughout his entire being.

He hadn't meant to intrude, even though he was now thankful he did. Castiel had been walking down the hall, only to be stopped by a small whimper. Originally, he'd thought it was Jack. It sounded so impossibly small that he couldn't imagine it being anyone else.

Only, after pausing and glancing up, Cas knew it wasn't his son. The door he was staring at belonged to Sam. It was his best friend's — his family's — room.

The Winchesters rarely expressed their feelings. In their eyes, they were a weakness. Not so long ago, Castiel felt the same way. The brothers had actually been the ones who taught him how important they were. Getting in touch with his emotions guided him to make so many right decisions.

Every now and again, the right amount of pain would force them to break the rule. Out of the two of them, Sam tended to break more. His massive strength was undeniable, but his heart was still sensitive. Castiel could tell he felt things deeply. He still remembered the way the hunter faltered during their first introduction. Sam had been so… honored and thrilled about meeting him, but Cas had crushed that when he called him 'the boy with the demon blood.' The Winchester hadn't even tried to hide his distress.

Within a small amount of time, Cas began to regret his malicious behavior towards Sam. Even though he was mostly focused on his brother, he saw the brightness Sam had every time he turned his head. He wasn't the boy with the demon blood; he was the boy with the golden heart. Cas hated that it took him so long to realize that.

He also hated that sometimes, he still fell into those old patterns.

When Cas had his big argument with Dean, he never told Sam he was taking off. He'd just upped and left, leaving the youngest confused and hurt. The angel felt it in every single one of his desperate texts, but he never replied. He just let Sam worry.

Despite knowing how bad things currently were for him — despite knowing it would tear him to pieces — he just let Sam worry.

A small part of Cas was hoping that by coming back, things would fall back into place. That somehow, everything would be fine because they were under the same roof again.

Maybe it would've been the case if Chuck stayed away. Cas could still picture Sam falling to his knees, only half there as he quietly repeated: "I can't."

After that, he should've checked on Sam right away. He shouldn't have waited until days later, when the youngest Winchester was already drowning in the grief Chuck forced him under.

Sam's pain was somewhat his fault. Cas knew he couldn't go back and change anything, but he could help him now. In that moment, the angel could finally do the right thing, and that had to mean something.

Cautiously, Castiel started walking. He didn't stop until he was in front of Sam's bed, where the hunter was currently sitting (and shaking). The entire time, he could feel the Winchester's gaze on him. Almost like he was waiting for an attack.

It made him feel sick in a way Castiel hadn't known was possible.

"Sam… I know you need me to promise you tomorrow." Cas murmured, sadness in his eyes as he stared at Sam's watery green ones. He slowly bent his knees, bringing them to the same height. "But I won't lie to you. You deserve better than that."

A pained smile found its way over Sam's cheeks. He seemed to be set on keeping most of his tears in, even though his lips were trembling from the effort. Cas wished he felt safe enough to let them go.

"What I can promise you is right now." Cas was never good with words, but he was trying. As much as he wanted to make Sam feel better, he wouldn't go about it dishonestly. He held too much love and respect for him to do such a thing. "—Can I touch your shoulder?"

It was a small gesture, but Cas didn't want to do anything without Sam's permission. Not when he was already so shaken up. He knew that even on good days, sudden touches and noises startled him. Over the last few years, Cas had witnessed it so many times.

Too many times.

Sam seemed surprised by his asking, as if no one had ever done that for him. It seemed to distract him from everything else. Cas wondered if he should've been doing that all along.

After receiving a short nod, Castiel gently placed his hand on Sam's shoulder. For once, he didn't jump back. The hunter seemed to notice it too and relaxed into the touch. Almost like it was the first time physical contact hadn't burned. As gently as he could, Cas rubbed his thumb back and forth.

"You, me, Dean, Jack— We haven't lost yet. I don't know what Chuck showed you, but I know fate can be changed. You taught me that."

Sam still didn't speak up. Cas didn't expect him to. The only thing that changed was his breathing, as his lungs seemed to be working a bit more rapidly. He thought about getting Dean, but that meant exiting the room. Cas wouldn't leave Sam like this; not even for a second.

"I'm moving my hand to your face." Confusion hit Sam's features, but after seeing no signs of disapproval, Cas let his fingers cup his cheek. A small shutter passed Sam's lips as his eyes fluttered shut. The angel swore he even leaned into his hand.

Why didn't he go to Sam sooner?

"I know you might feel like you're alone in this, but you are anything but, Sam Winchester. We are all right here and right now, in this moment, we are not going anywhere." Cas gently slid his other hand up, whispering what he was doing before letting it rest over Sam's hair. "And I am so sorry I didn't answer you. I didn't consider your feelings and that was selfish of me. You don't have to forgive me, but I just need you to know that you didn't do anything wrong. The only one who messed up this time was me."

"You weren't mad at me?" The answer came so quickly that Cas almost missed it. Sam finally opened his eyes, desperately searching the angel's for the truth. Cas couldn't have felt more guilty. Had Sam really gone the entire time thinking their separation was his fault?

A tear slipped down Sam's cheek, and Castiel carefully brushed it away with his thumb. He didn't even have to think about it. "Not for a second." Every angry part of him had existed because of Dean. Despite their profound bond, Dean was usually the one that tore him up. Sam rarely did, even when it was merited.

In an instant, all of Sam's defenses seemed to shatter. Cas noticed it as soon as it happened. By the time an actual cry left the hunter, the angel was already sitting down next to him, letting Sam see him before tightly pulling him into his arms.

He expected Sam to return it. Instead, the Winchester crumbled, sinking into his chest and holding onto Cas's shirt like it was the only thing keeping him afloat.

"I'm here," Cas softly reminded him. He intertwined his fingers together, resting his head on top of Sam's. He could feel the hunter nod a couple of times.

Cas didn't know how long they sat there. To get to this point, he knew Sam must've been holding onto so much. He just kept the Winchester in his arms, occasionally lifting one hand so he could brush his hair back.

After a while, the tears stopped and Sam's breathing slowed down. It took Cas a minute to realize Sam must've cried himself out.

His hand was still securely holding onto Cas's shirt. He thought about moving it, but he didn't want to chance waking him. Knowing Sam, it could've been days since he last slept well. Instead, as slowly and delicately as he could, Cas lowered both of them onto the mattress. Sam shifted a little closer. After some quiet maneuvering, he was able to get the blankets over them.

The angel didn't know if tomorrow, things would be okay. Years ago, he thought he held all the answers, but he never had. Some things were predictable, but nothing was concrete. The only certain thing was right now. That moment.

And in that moment, he was holding onto a sleeping Sam Winchester, who was brave enough to feel and strong enough to breathe. He couldn't have asked for anything more.