Castiel is so sure. He's always so sure, and whatever Dean did to the Cas in his reality, this one has never given up on him, not even for a second. It's the first good thing he's felt in weeks, and the thing in him rebels against it, stops up his lungs and squeezes so tight around his heart, Dean thinks it might stop this time, but he leans forward with the last of his strength, vision graying at the edges when he presses his torn lips to Castiel's.