Dean was going to hang around until everyone left the stadium, but he ended up getting mobbed by Patriots fans, and someone had to go out and rescue him. Castiel doesn't pay any attention to that, instead sitting down with Misha, who instantly rests his head on his owner's lap. Castiel smiles down at him. Someone's brought him out after every concert since Sioux Falls, and Castiel is beyond grateful.

"Hey," he hears Dean's voice say. He looks up to see the boy standing in front of him, holding his arms in a way that clearly shows how awkward he feels right now.

"Hey," Castiel replies, sounding just as awkward. Naturally, an awkward silence ensues, which Castiel breaks. "You want to sit? I feel kinda short, being the only one on the floor."

Dean gives him a small smile at his attempt at humor and sits down as well. Misha walks over and sniffs him, licks his face, and lies down with Castiel again. That's proof that he's tired; Misha never greats new people like that during the day.

"You have a dog?" Dean observes, likely kicking himself for saying something so stupid. Castiel, on the other hand, is thankful he said anything at all.

"Yeah, for a few months now," he replies.

"Huh." Dean holds a hand out, and Misha ignores him, closing his eyes to take a nap on Castiel instead.

It's quiet for another minute or so. They steal glances at each other, but the moment the other person catches them, they both look down at the dog, who's oblivious to the tension.

Finally, Castiel asks, "What are we doing?"

Dean looks at him expectantly, silently prompting him to elaborate.

"What's going on with us, Dean?" he asks. "I haven't even heard from you in months, and now you show up at my concert like nothing happened?"

Dean lets out a long breath as he thinks of how to answer. Finally, he just says, "I don't know."

Castiel waits for him to say more, but he doesn't.

"You don't know," he repeats. "That's it? You just show up here out of the blue when I don't even know if we're on speaking terms or not, and you just don't know?"

Dean sighs. "Never mind. Forget it. You're right. This was stupid."

Dean gets up to leave, just as he did all those weeks ago. Castiel refuses to just let him walk away; not this time. He takes Dean by the wrist, stopping him.

"I don't care how stupid of an idea this was. You're not leaving. Not yet."

Dean gives him a slight smile, so small he isn't quite sure if it's really there or if he's imagining it. He sits down again, and Castiel lets go of his wrist. They lapse into silence immediately.

It's Dean that speaks first. "Why is this so hard for us?"

"I don't know," Castiel replies honestly.

"It was so much easier onstage," Dean adds.

"Maybe that's because that wasn't us."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not the same person with people I love that I am with fans," Castiel explains. "I can only imagine you're the same way; it seems like everyone is. The people onstage, they weren't us. They were just the masks we wear to hide who we truly are."

Dean gives him a small smile. "You really have a way with words. I see why you wanted to write music." He pauses, then adds, "And you're right. That wasn't us. But this is. So where do we go from here?"

Castiel doesn't answer at first, then says softly, "Maybe we should just go our separate ways."

"What?"

"Think about it, Dean. We've fought so much since we met up again. Maybe we were right for each other five years ago, but you were right. I'm not the same person I was back then. I don't know if I've changed for better or for worse, but I do know that I've definitely changed."

"And now you just want to walk away?" Dean finishes.

Castiel looks down at the floor so he doesn't have to see Dean's expression when he nods. "I'm sorry."

Dean doesn't say anything at first. Then, "Man, that's crap."

Castiel looks up in surprise. "What?"

"Maybe you have changed. So have I. So has just about everyone. You think Sam's the same person he was as a freshman in high school? No way. But that didn't mean he and Gabriel had to break up."

"That's different."

"How?" Dean challenges. "How is that different at all?"

"Because I screw up everything I touch," Castiel tells him. "They don't."

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you screw everything up because you make yourself screw it up?" Dean asks. "If you keep thinking like that, of course things aren't going to work out. Things don't just go your way because you ask the universe nicely. You have to fight for what you want, and you know what? Even after everything that's happened, what I want is you, and I'll be damned if I'm just letting you go without a fight."

"You're the one who broke up with me," Castiel reminds him.

"I guess I didn't know how much I had to lose," he replies, his small smile all the confirmation Castiel needs to know he heard the song he sang about him. "I really am sorry about that. It's been tearing me apart since I did it. It physically pained me to hear your name for the longest time, and you seemed to be making headlines a lot."

"Well, I've had it pretty rough, too," Castiel replies, putting his hand over his cut subconsciously, as he seems to do a lot. Thankfully, Dean either doesn't notice or doesn't think anything of it.

"So, what now?" Dean asks. "Do you still want to walk away? Or do you want to see if we can make this work? I feel like it'll be different this time."

Castiel hesitates. He's missed Dean. God, he's missed Dean. But is the high of having him back really worth the possibility of losing him again?

Finally, he says, "I still don't see us working out." He can see Dean's heartbroken expression, and adds, "But I'm willing to fight for it if you are."

Dean smiles, a genuine smile that seems to light up the room. Just like that, Castiel knows he made the right choice.