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“How is Sam?”
“Sam? He’s fine.”
“And you?”
“Fine, fine. I’m doing great.”
An awkward silence.
“Is that it?”
A sigh. They really can’t communicate well, not anymore.
“I’m going then.”
Cas felt a hand on his wrist, stopping him as he was about to leave.
“Dean-”
“Can,” the hunter stopped him. “Can you give me time?”
It’s been years since they last spoke, ever since God gave them peace. And Cas, a mortal body.
“Is that not what I’ve been giving you all these years?”
Cas saw Dean’s face and sighed. He might as well give him the chance.